Well, my lovelies, this is the end of this fic! I know, I know, sad day. (Or at least that's what I'm striving for you to think.)
I hope you enjoy this last chapter, as I certainly do! Hugs and kisses, yo.

"Will you stop making that face, my love? It's just breastfeeding." As the Doctor had quickly discovered, River didn't really bother with blankets. River was not really one for modesty.

Checking to make sure Stormy was asleep, the Doctor muttered, "I'm not really used to someone else doing that."

She laughed at the sullen, if not slightly jealous, look on her husband's face. "She's a baby. This is natural, and what breasts were actually designed for. So don't tell me you didn't expect this. Besides, I'm sure I was breastfed."

"How should I know?" He made a face. "I... I didn't actually... I mean I wasn't... I-I..." The next sentences came out softly. "You and Amy were on Demon's Run. We didn't have time to relax, we were more focused on saving the two of you. So I don't know. We didn't get the time to be calm and do anything like that. River, did I ever tell you that you slept in my cradle?" He smiled warmly, attempting to bring the mood back up from where he had dragged it down to.

"Of course. Don't you remember when I told you who I was? My prayer leaf was in it. That's how I learned your name, too. I read it that day on the headboard of the cradle." She held Stormy out to him, then readjusted her clothing. "Will you burp her?"

The Doctor rather awkwardly laid her against his shoulder and began patting her back. It had been a very long time since he'd done this. He supposed the concept hadn't really changed. The beating of her hearts brought a smile to his face. He wasn't the last anymore. He had a Time Lord family. A proper-ish family. A gorgeous, devious professor for a wife and a cheeky, brilliant girl for a child. For a moment, he thought about what the High Council of Gallifrey would say. It made him grin. Those stuffy old men would be utterly astonished and stuttering like fools. To think the most immature and troublesome Time Lord on the entire planet would be the one to carry everything would probably make them laugh endlessly. But here he was! Holding his mostly Time Lord daughter while his mostly Time Lord wife read some dusty book about Sumeria. Maybe he would take them there sometime. He knew he wasn't going to lead a normal life with any of them, but that didn't stop him from loving his children so much it almost hurt. Besides, it was fun to think that he could always come home to love on this scale. That is if he ever left.

A sudden wetness spread down his shoulder and he froze up. "Er... River...?"

River burst into laughter when she broke her gaze with the book and looked at her husband. Stormy had fallen asleep against him, but he had continued to pat her back. And she had spit up all down the Doctor's jacket. River got up to get a towel, which she wiped Stormy's mouth with before laying her in the playpen. "I suggest you let me wash your jacket and shirt, my love. Stop looking at me like you were just hit with Silurian venom."

While he jerkily stripped, he muttered, "Over a millenium of time and space. Never been spit up on by a baby. Not one of my children has ever done that before." He sullenly thrust his clothes towards his wife's outstretched hand. "Let's hope this first is a last."

xXx

"So what do you do?" The Doctor was peering around his wife's house in earnest curiousity with his arms crossed on his bare chest. There were so many pictures lining the walls, whether the were paintings, posters or photographs. A vibrant painting stood out against the rest- Amy's Sunflowers. He knew for sure that it was Vincent's original, but didn't want to know how she had gotten ahold of it. An unconscious smile broke out when he took in the photographs of the five of them, even the one in Utah they'd hastily snapped in a split-second-decision.

"Archaeology, you know that." The click of the door to Stormy's room was quiet but resounding. River's arms quickly snaked around her husband, causing him to shudder. Her hands were cold, even against his cooler-than-human-temperature skin.

"I meant just being here, settled down... You're usually all adventuring and brandishing a gun and hello sweetie and... well, just mad."

He felt her smile against his chest. The thing he didn't realize is that the smile was bittersweet. "That's not really such a good idea if you're pregnant. But there's no way I'm done with all that. How could I? But I really only get into trouble when I'm with you. So I thought that once Stormy was old enough I would start taking her places. Places we didn't destroy, that is. Or pre-destruction. And I've had a lovely little expedition planned since right before that mess with the Byzantium. It's been put off until next year though, given that I couldn't just leave Stormy all alone."

The Doctor was uncharacteristically silent. His mind was reeling with the knowledge he possessed of River's future at the Library. He didn't know when that was going to be, but now he knew that his daughter would, at some point, be without a mother, and that broke his hearts. It was at that moment he resolved to visit her as many times as he possibly could in her future. After all, he knew they would go to the Singing Towers of Darillium. That would be the last time she ever saw this incarnation. Of course, she would see two of him after the ridiculous mix-up he'd had with three Rivers being in the TARDIS all at once. He had been surprised that the TARDIS hadn't gotten torn apart by the massive paradox. But, then again, she hadn't even seen the other versions of herself.

He didn't know what he was going to do. There had to be some way he could make this work. Take his daughter with him when the moment was right. The moment that was so wrong.

"What's got you so quiet?"

Ah. So she had noticed. "Spoilers." His voice almost broke. But not quite. The way River made him feel, just the pure fluff of it all, gave him hope for the time being. And that's all he really needed when it came to her. She was always his source of hope.