A/N: The prompt for this one was Time Twins, but as babies, so enjoy this little domestic scene!

Four

Both Clara and the Doctor woke up from the squalling coming from across the room. The human let go of her space-husband and rolled over, grabbing her phone to check the time—five-thirty-seven. It had been about four hours since one of the kids last woke up, meaning that the day when the nursery could be a room completely separate from theirs was soon to be upon them. Instead now they were in a sort of suite, where the TARDIS had taken her bedroom and added an extra wing, giving the parents the illusion of privacy, though they were still at their infants' becks and calls.

"He just wants to be held; I've got him," the Doctor mumbled, hoisting himself out of bed.

"I'll be right behind you," she replied. "It's just going to be an early day for us."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure—just go get James to settle down."

"Yes, boss," the Doctor said. He crossed the room and went through the door that connected them to the nursery, finding his son squirming in his cot. It had been a long four months since the twins were born, even for someone who needed as little sleep as he did. Carefully, he picked up James and slid him into the crook of his arm, bouncing him until he calmed. "That's it, lad. Your ol' da's got you."

The baby's eyes cracked open and he stared at his father. The man with wild hair was back, the one who was definitely not Mummy. Okay, so he was Daddy, but it still didn't change that he had been crying for Mummy and ended up with Daddy. He wiggled in protest, calling for his sister who was mere feet away in her own cot and still sleeping peacefully. She didn't wake, which irritated her brother, which meant he began to cry in earnest. This woke her up, both children now shrieking loudly.

"If I hadn't regenerated into grey, you both would make sure I turned it faster than should be Gallifreyanly possible," the Time Dad deadpanned, drowned out by the screaming. He tried soothing the babies with a lullaby from his youth, untranslated and full of meaning, but they wouldn't stop until Clara came into the room. She picked up Alison and was passed James, the twins immediately placated once they were in their mother's arms.

"Nothing like a mum's touch," she snarked. The Doctor pouted and shoved his hands in his trouser pockets.

"How 'bout I go make breakfast?" he asked. "It's that time, yeah?"

"Breakfast would be lovely, thank you," Clara replied. She perched on her toes for a quick kiss and then let him leave, occupying herself with the children.

Raising twins on the TARDIS had been a terrifying thought at first, she was ready to admit, but there were some things about the space-time-ship that seemed to have changed since her pregnancy that Clara was more than welcome to accept. The changing table, for one, was truly a dream come true. She placed her kids down and a one-way force field automatically enveloped each baby, keeping them secure as their mother searched around for clean nappies and clothes. Soon Alison and James were fresh and clean, meaning the force fields lifted them up so that Clara could grab them both at the same time. Both babies nuzzled into their mother's chest, happy to simply be near her.

Walking through the TARDIS, Clara followed the smell of food in order to find where the kitchen had materialized that morning. The Doctor was making crepes for them that morning, carefully using the pan's lid to flip the thin pancakes. Two highchairs were already waiting, along with two bottles sitting on the table. Once her babies were secure and drinking their formula, Clara returned to her fluffy-haired husband, hugging him from behind.

"Smells good," she said into his hoodie.

"Learned from the best," he grinned, though he knew she couldn't see it. "Was stuck in Medieval Flanders for a fortnight once and I ended up befriending a very kindly and rather talented granny. Her skills at the stove would make haute chefs green with envy."

"Sounds like an enriching experience," she replied. After pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades, she sat back down at the table and began to scroll through the news feed on her phone. Despite the fact she was swirling around in the time vortex, she wanted to be up-to-date on everything when she finally did disembark the TARDIS and returned to her normal life. That was a while away yet, though it didn't hurt to stay on top of more things than the Doctor. Speaking of, he placed the plate full of crepes down on the table and sat, grabbing a couple for himself.

"Would you like me to teach you?" he asked through a mouthful of crepe.

"Pardon?"

"Would you like me to teach you how to make these crepes," he clarified. He watched as Clara drizzled some treacle on her crepes, covering them in the sweet, sticky goo. "It's not that difficult, but it does take plenty of practice to get it just right."

"Maybe, when the kids can be left alone for a few minutes, but I'm not ready to go back to Coal Hill," she nodded. She glanced over at their kids—they were still working on their bottles, though Alison was poking James with the end of hers—and sighed wistfully. "They grow so fast, don't they?"

"That's the Gallifreyan in them," the Doctor quipped.

"No, I mean in general," she said. "Babies do that, you know. One day we'll blink and they'll be old enough for school. Blink again and they'll be teenagers. Another blink and they'll be passing us grandchildren."

"It will be a wonderful feeling," he said, voice sad and low. The Doctor allowed himself to be mentally transported through the millennia and universe, to when he first held Susan in his arms. He wasn't yet a Time Lord then, nearing finishing up his overly-long and poorly-completed training, and it was honestly one of the few times in his life where he could have said he was truly happy and not be lying to some degree. "Our babies will always be our babies, but it's worth them growing up to watch them make their own way in the galaxies, conquer their fears, be in love, have babies of their own, whatever ends up suiting them."

"Glad I went in this with an experienced soul behind me," Clara said. She placed her hand on his, squeezing gently. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."