Ok, he knew it was going to be big and, by his knowledge of Rose her knowledge of him, he also knew it would involve something domestic.

But this was just ridiculous.

Jackie's flat always smelled funny, he had decided, and the mixture of cigarette smoke and baby sick was starting to make him queasy. He hated kids. A small gurgle erupted from the pushchair as he wearily began to rock it backwards and forwards with the tip of his toe.

Of course, Rose was out partying.

With his credit card.

He sighed wearily and lay back on the couch.

'Another tea?'

'No thanks, twelve's my limit.'

Alright, she was a nice person and, yes, she was the mother of his 'travelling companion' (or as his mind frequently called it 'The-woman-with-which-he-would-like-to-marry-and-have-lots-of-sex-and-babies' however he couldn't quite fit that into casual conversation. Especially not with her mother).

Another sigh as he retreated into the corners of his mind.

Motherfucking abyss more like.

God he hated domestics. He wondered how many times he could say it before it changed and became something which sounded rude. Kinda like 'Cape Horn'

'Cape horn' He said loudly.

'Gay what?'

'Nothing'

He was going insane, he must be. He was in Jackie's flat, babysitting for Jackie's niece, drinking Jackie's tea. With Jackie. Alone.

And he hadn't been bitchslapped yet.

Well, technically he wasn't 'Babysitting' he was 'bonding with Roses family'.

To be fair, he would rather bond with the Slitheen family after a baked beans fest. To be fair, it would probably smell a little better as well.

'Do you mind if I just nip out? There's this man who works behind the fish counter in Tesco's...'

He got that far, and then stopped listening. He was starting to wonder if he would turn gay after all this 'man talk'. Oh god, he'd have to grow his hair. Read magazines. Be interested in things to do with people who weren't about to get horribly mutilated.

He noticed that Jackie had stopped talking.

'Sure, Jackie, be as long as you like'

She smiled at him. The smile he didn't like. The 'flirty' smile.

Jesus.

Rose better hurry up. It must be past midnight by now. She could be getting raped, or stabbed, or chatted up. She could have her drink spiked or aliens could kidnap her or something. He glanced anxiously at the clock on the windowsill.

9:15.

And what's more, he was beginning to sound like her dad.

Brilliant.

He'd spent too long with Jackie. He knew it. He knew he should have accepted the slap of Rose herself there and then. But he had to keep his dignity.

And half his face to be quite honest.

Stupid time lords. He cursed, momentarily forgetting the baby in the pushchair, and the fact loud noises- or swear words- tend to make them cry.

Balls.

Unsure of what to do he gingerly scooped it out of the chair and onto his knee. He'd make a crap dad, he decided.

'Um...don't cry?' He knew it was pathetic before he even finished the sentence. He held the baby at arm's length and studied it carefully.

'Don't cry, please?' It was useless. He was useless.

'OW'

At least it found his pain funny. He prodded the side of his face, making sure that the regular tuft of hair was still intact. Relieved, he put the baby back in the pram and went to raid the kitchen.

There had to be something he could do to stop it from wailing. Anything. He frantically searched the cupboards, looking for something- anything- to feed it with. He was pretty sure they needed milk.

Pretty sure.