Oswalds and Roses | A Doctor Who Fanfic

►Chapter 4 - Same Mistake◄

"Claire's husband, he came to chat with Clara and I already, he must have gone to see Jack." Rose stated and strode over to a spot on the floor, reaching her foot forward she gave it a tap. From the floor rose a circular crib, what was the floor had twisted and became the bottom of the crib, a covered piece of padding was already there. "He showed us how to do that."

The Doctor suddenly wondered if there were things like that all over the room. Settling Kayson down in the crib he took a few paces away from it and tapped a random part of the floor. Out from it rose a small, waterfall like thing that had a few goblets resting beside it. The Doctor, unsure of how to get it to go down, started to gently tap it all over until he smacked the top of it with his palm and it went down. Looking around the Doctor decided he would have to be more careful with where he stepped if he didn't want these things to pop up randomly.

"This place is perfect," Rose said quietly. "But do you know how to get back?"

"Not exactly, I might know how to get off of this planet," He stated, it was implied that he did not know how to get back to her universe. He had not the faintest clue. If he had that figured out he would have been there a long time ago.

"Do you mind if I leave Kayson with you? I was thinking I should talk to Claire, she had mentioned something about needing our help." Stated Rose brushing her thumb over Kayson's cheek. The baby grabbed Rose's finger tightly.

Now that Rose mentioned it the Doctor did remember Claire saying something along those lines, it had easily slipped his mind what with everything else that had happened. The Doctor was quick to agree. "Of course, she can stay with me as long as you need,"

"Thank you," Rose gave Kayson a quick kiss before take two steps to her right and tapping the floor. Up rose a shelf like thing with what appeared to hold a pap boat filled with a black liquid, cloths accompanied by pins, and a few, wooden toys. "Arthur showed us this as well, the black stuff is safe for her to drink."

The Doctor stepped towards it and scanned it with his screwdriver. Looking at the readings he discovered that it was a milk like compound that had been harvested from an unknown species. It contained many compounds that would he knew to be very good for human children. He decided he could feed it to her with his mind at ease now.

"Wel, I'm gonna go, I'll see you again soon," Rose remarked before leaving.

The next hour the Doctor spent dotting over Kayson. Playing peekaboo with her, very quietly telling her bedtime stories from his homeworld, changing her diaper, and gently rocking her in his arms. A smile was present on his face the entire time, and that smile was mirrored on Kayson's face. Kayson and the Doctor were laying on the floor facing one another smiling, he reached forward and booped her gently on the nose. Kayson giggled and tried to reach forward to boop the Doctor on the nose.

"Well, you two look rather adorable," Remarked Clara leaning on the frame of the door. The Doctor's face turned to her and he smiled at her.

"Baby Kayson here is rather entertaining to hang out with," The Doctor explained standing and reaching over to pick up the baby. "But I think someone is getting tired now,"

The Doctor, supporting Kayson's head with his hand, set her down gently in the crib. After running his hand quickly over her head to smooth down her small hairs he moved a chair beside the crib and sat down. He used his hand to slowly rock the crib and gestured towards another chair to Clara.

Clara pulled over the chair and sat down slowly, trying to move in the dress she seemed to have been given. It was lilac in colour and had only a few clear gems on the corset. Her hair was simply down, loose curls hung over her shoulders and was secured out of her eyes by small lilac pins. Those eyes. . . those eyes, they had haunted his sleeping and awake hours. He was certain that he could stare into those eyes for an eternity and never get bored. However, at the moment they had that look. Like Clara was picking apart a puzzle in her head and you were the puzzle. It was a look that he had not often seen directed at him. Usually he got the big-eyed, happy look that was accompanied by a sideways smile on her face. But now he was being given the same look that Clara usually gave their enemies, it made him slightly nervous. Clearing his throat he asked with a hushed voice. "Clara. . . what is it?"