Command Protocol 8526
Darillium, near the Andromeda Galaxy 5347 Day 2613
"Sweetie," I say, rolling around on my silk sheets. My husband in tow, a grin set deep in his eyes.
"Yes my love." He replies, running a long finger down my chest, she gasp, his touch, it's so sensitive, delicate. For an older man. I can't help but chuckle at this thought, unable to control my wildly contagious spirit.
"What's with the beeping?" I ask, halting his trek of my skin, he looks up, raises his eyebrows and listens. He heard it too. A slow consistent beep, quiet, just on edge of noise, easily ignored if you're not paying attention.
"8526, it's the command protocol for the ducks. They must be hatching." He leaps up from the bed and races down the hall, after a few seconds he reappears at the door, ushering my out of bed, "I set an alarm for when the ducks were about to hatch." He says as I look at him in complete confusion. I climb slowly from the bed, taking the sheet and following my husband into the library. He's standing over a large nest of books, pages had been ripped out and woven into a circle, the words forming a warm seat for about half a dozen baby blue eggs, pointing upwards towards the ceiling. The Doctor's hands were clapped together and he has a beam on his face. I creep up behind him and lean on his shoulders; I'm wrapped in a sheet and he's standing in his question-mark underpants and a pair of Nike socks. There's a small crack in one of the eggs, it begins squeaking and shuffling around in the nest. Suddenly, the egg shatters. It sends pieces of broken egg shell all around the wall, mostly hitting with a soft crunch sound. The beeping is louder in here, the Doctor covers his ears whilst running around trying to find the off switch. It's almost deafening.
*SLAM*
He'd hit the switch with such force he'd almost knocked it through the wall and into the corridor. "Darling, be careful." I say as he looks at me with a sheepish grin. Then I lean in closer to the nest, as he makes his way back to me. There's now a tiny duckling roaming around the the paper strips, I reach down and it hopped carefully into my palms. I smile, and glance up at him, "did you plan this?" He nods, then he bends down too.
"Well, I did a bit of tinkering when I came back and Barry lent me some eggs so. I thought you'd like them, *Quack*" He stops and looks down at the tiny mallard in my hands, it was such a brave quack for a little duck. Full of confidence and pride.
After all six of the ducklings had hatched, the eight of them made their way to the swimming pool. I'm carrying four, and the Doctor, two; he suggested we use his bigger-on-the-inside pockets, but I didn't think it was very sensible. They might get dizzy, or worse, lost. The water is a little chilly today, I suppose it's the TARDIS compensating for the ducks prime temperature. One by one they all plop down into the cold, each one making a tiny splash as they land on the surface of the water. Then they trail into a single line, almost dancing.