Nerd Flirts XIII

Adam

"Hey?"

"Oh, hi," he mumbled to Oswin after entering without talking to her. She was sitting on the sofa with her feet up – or foot, as it were – and there was a notable absence of an infant in the room. But his head was pounding and he had made a beeline for the freezer, hardly noticing her in his periphery.

"You okay?"

"Do we have any ice?"

"Ice?"

"I need some ice…" he opened the freezer and looked around.

"You're a walking ice cube, babe," she reminded him.

"I know, but – I have a headache…" he found very little of use to him in the freezer and switched to the fridge where his eyes fell on a can of fruit cider he had there. It was this he grabbed and pressed to his forehead, which did very little to alleviate the headache. Hopefully the alcohol in it would do better, because he intended on opening it to drink shortly.

Oswin craned her neck and watched him with concern as he left the kitchen and came to sit down on the sofa with her. She lifted up her twisted leg carefully and set it back down again propped up on his lap once he had lowered himself onto the cushions. As soon as he met her eyes properly he knew she was worrying more than she should be.

"It's nothing," he said, "I had to use the infospike today."

"You did?" she was surprised, "And it hurt?"

"It was just exhausting. And embarrassing."

"Can I have a look at it?" she asked as though she was actually qualified to examine the infospike, like it wasn't significantly more advanced than anything from her own history, and like she had any background in medicine.

He really must be tired if he was being so snippy with Oswin, even if it was just in his head… Though he was already handing over the keyring with the spike controls attached so that she could open the door and see his brain. He had to lean forwards to let her squint at it. He took that opportunity to open the can of cider.

"Well, it looks… like a brain. Hmm. Maybe we should scan it?" she suggested, pressing the button on the keyring to close his head up again. And it better stay closed for the rest of the foreseeable future, he thought.

"No, no, it's fine. I just had to do something kind of difficult with it, that's all. And I don't have any practice since I only used it once before."

"Really? What did you do?" she entreated him, growing eager, leaning on the back of the sofa and watching him fondly.

"Hacked into a supercomputer and overwrote its programming and saved the lives of thousands of people who were being used in some Illuminati social experiment," he explained, "They had this AI, see, only it wasn't an AI at all, it was just a normal computer, but all the people on this spacestation had been tricked into thinking it was a real AI. Called Max. Responsible for giving out rations of food and medicine depending on people's randomly assigned social capital. And the prosthetic deaths – all the faux-rich citizens had these kind of Deus Ex style augmentations and limbs that were complete robot, cybernetic limbs. But they were rigged with poison and the scientists overseeing it could just trigger the poison to release into the bloodstream whenever they wanted."

"Right. So, you need to back up and tell me about the fact you overwrote the programming of a supercomputer with your brain!?"

"I mean, I thought you'd be interested in the fake AI and the prosthetics stuff."

"Oh, I didn't hear anything after the first sentence. That stuff sounds interesting and all, but maybe save the anecdote for a time when I'm not swooning over my incredible boyfriend?" she said, "You reprogrammed a supercomputer with your brain, Mitchell. That is so hot I think my vagina just multiplied. Our sofa cushions are going to be soaked through in a matter of minutes."

"Yeah. I mean, you're disgusting, but, yeah."

"I'm impressed! And proud! Can't I be proud of you for being a hero? Saving people? You've got to take responsibility for how amazing you are." She was beaming at him so warmly that he thought he might defrost. Under her gaze he grew a little restless and then drank some more of his cider, thinking.

"What about you, then?"

"Oh, I'm amazing too, for sure."

"I don't mean – like, how's your day been? When did the baby leave?"

"Just under an hour ago. Juliet told me I can absolutely babysit again because I did such a good job, so you might be seeing more of Nalyt. He'll learn how to talk soon. It's kind of nice, you know? Actually being on good terms with some of my family again. Plus, I really like babies. They're a guilty pleasure. Do you like babies?"

"Uh… I feel like that's a very loaded question you're expecting a specific answer to." She narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't really know."

"Would you want to have kids?"

"Erm…"

"If we could, I mean. Just hypothetically." He drank more cider and didn't answer. "I'm not trying to trick you, babe. I'm only wondering because I think you'd be a really good dad, that's all."

"Oh… do you really?"

"Yes. Because you're so calm and patient. And you know how to cook. And you're wonderful. Plus, even if you do get bored of them, you're rich so you could just, like, hire a nanny or whatever," she shrugged, "Then you could leave them alone and ruin me for a few hours."

"Wow, nice to see you care so much about our imaginary future children." She leant her head against the back of the sofa, watching him. "Honestly, I've never thought about it. Never thought I'd have the opportunity. You know, with a girl."

"The 'opportunity'?"

"That none of them would want to have kids with me. None of you. After getting to know me."

"Mitchell, you're killing me. If I was still alive I'd let you fuck me every day until I ran out of eggs, that's how willing I'd be to birth them. I mean, how painful is childbirth, really? Obviously quite painful, but I'm betting most of the women who say that haven't had their brains removed and put into a Dalek. Hurts a lot getting your brain removed."

"Yeah… I mean, you'd-? What?" She smiled at him and did not repeat herself. He found himself wondering if he'd actually heard her properly. Knowing her, he probably had, but liked to think it was his brain chip playing tricks on him. "If only we weren't both undead. Though, I think I'd want to be at least thirty before I had kids. Wait until I don't have to look after my sister anymore."

"Mmm… it's good I can't have any, really," she sighed.

"Why?"

"Well, you know."

"You're really good with them, though. Nalyt and Ellie both think you're great, and most of your brothers."

"Yeah…" she smiled sadly now and looked away, growing sincere. "I just worry about me. If I had one of my episodes, and I couldn't look after them, because I just wouldn't… and then you'd have me and some kid, or kids, to worry about. I like babysitting, but at least that's not risking any longterm responsibility I might not be able to manage. As much as I'd like to. I prefer it when 'creations' of mine have off-switches." He reached over and took her hand at that moment, realising that she actually was a little upset by the fact they were never going to have children. Unless they made weird, simulation children. Or stole DNA from past versions of themselves to artificially grow a baby. Neither option was something he legitimately entertained, not even for a second; he still felt he was too young and they hadn't even been together long enough to start thinking about that. "Sorry I'm going on about kids. It's just this thing with Martha, that's all. Got me thinking."

"Oh. Her cancer."

"Her…? What?"

"She's, like, ill, right?" Oswin stared at him. "Me and Nios were talking this morning, and we figured she's terminally ill, or something."

"Terminally ill?" Oswin asked him, deadpan.

"Uh…"

"She's pregnant."

"Oh." For a moment he was only thinking about how he had been wrong, but then the true realisation dawned on him. "Oh! No way! Seriously? That's so cool!"

"Yeah. That's why she's so worried. She doesn't want to shit out some mutant, alien monster. Like that cat, with the tentacles."

"I like the cat with the tentacles… are you allowed to tell me? Isn't it a secret? Their business?"

"I don't know. I'm not going to tell anybody else, unless Clara reads my mind, but she never does that unless she's worried about me. I never keep things from you, though. Why'd you think she has cancer? You can mind-fuck a supercomputer, but you can't work out that Mickey and Martha are gonna have a baby?"

"Well… I don't know… I thought she was being weird around the baby because she was thinking about her own mortality, or something." She laughed at him.

"You're mad. No offence."

"Is it gonna be a super-baby?"

"They don't know yet. Martha keeps scanning for mutations. Do you want to help me build an incubator?"

"Build one? Can't the TARDIS?"

She paused and then began slowly, "I don't want to sound like a pessimist, but somebody has to say that… well, maybe it'll develop some kind of powers that put Martha in danger. But we have very advanced technology, and where I'm from you can basically remove a fertilised egg and grow it externally. Which obviously sounds like a very cold kind of science and it absolutely won't be what either of them want, but what if something happens? It would be nice to have the equipment there already, just in case. Better safe than sorry." She stopped talking, but he sensed she had something else to say so he waited. "It's just that – if someone has to take on the responsibility of talking about the worst that can happen, I'll gladly do it to help Mickey and Martha."

"Do you think something bad might happen?"

"Honestly? I… have no idea. Not a single clue. I think we just have to wait and see and be careful. But I hope it goes well, obviously. It'd be great to have a TARDIS baby. Apart from River. A TARDIS baby who isn't a psychopath."

"They're going to raise it on the TARDIS?"

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant. Another weird time-baby, I mean. They told me they're going to leave once they can find somewhere to live."

"They don't have anywhere?"

"Uh… they said they don't want to bring up a baby in London. Not one sort of… at-risk. I mean, you can't blame them, Amy was kidnapped while she was pregnant and had River stolen." He sat thinking to himself, turning the can of cider around his hands.

"I told Nios I was thinking of selling my house."

"You're what? Selling your house?"

"Thinking about it. Very recently. I was gonna talk to you about it tonight, anyway. But then… well… it's in the middle of nowhere. A ten-minute drive outside the nearest village with a train station, half an hour away from a city with a big supermarket… if they're looking for somewhere secluded to live."

"Babe, they're not going to take handouts, believe me. They're not those sorts of people."

"I could rent it to them, I mean. I own Other Clara's house, after all – I built it from scratch to keep her safe, and she's got Jenny there 24/7 to look after her as well. I could at least offer. It seems stupid having that house there sitting empty and I thought I'd get a flat in Cambridge, near the HQ, just in case I have to go down there – and so Ellie has somewhere to stay. What do you think?"

"Me? I think you're the sweetest boy in the whole world, and if you want to offer to rent them your massive fuck-off mansion, then go ahead. We're all lucky to have you here on the TARDIS. Not just me. Everyone. Although I am especially lucky."

"I should do more to help people."

"Why don't you just… make a list? Let's both make a list of things we should do, even. Projects, goals, that kind of thing. A shared list. And in the middle, we'll have a cute, shared column, of things we do together. Because we should do more things together. You did promise to help me with Eslilia… I think if we had a list, we'd be able to be more effective, you know? As a duo. We're both supposed to be geniuses but we never do anything genius together."

"…Okay," he grinned, "In a bit. After I've had something to eat. We can make an incubator for the baby if you think it's a good idea."

"Personally, I just can't wait to see what kind of a kid this baby turns out to be…"

"Yeah."

"I hope it's hot when it grows up."

"Yeah… although, also, no."

"It definitely will be. Martha's gonna be a MILF, too."

"I think I'm gonna go and cook something… in the kitchen… away from you."

"What do you think they'll name it?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe they'll name it after me."

"I doubt that, somehow."

"You're right. They should give it a name starting with 'M.' To keep the theme going. What about 'Moswin'?"

"Okay. I'm ignoring you now."

"I love you, too."