Author's Notes:
This is the first story I've posted on Whofic, seeing as everything else I've tried seems to have the wrong sort of grammar. But anyway (: next chapter.

Jack decided it was probably best for him to go back to the TARDIS and introduce the baby to the Doctor and Rose. Not that it would do much good, with them not allowed to hold him or anything. But, he could leave him in charge of the TARDIS, he didn’t say anything about that, did he? Holding the baby in one hand, he dug in his pocket for his key and opened the door. The Doctor, stood at the console, looked up in surprise.

‘Have you found it already?’

‘No.’

‘Then why are you back?’

‘Because I found something else.’

‘Anything of importance?’

‘Well, it’s a baby.’

‘You brought a baby, on the TARDIS…’ the Doctor frowned, turned to Jack and folded his arms, steely blue eyes full of a quiet anger that Jack had still not got used to.

‘I was going to talk to this caterpillar, and then this kid ran past me, human looking kid, then sped off again. Moments later, I’m guessing her dad came along, gave me this one and then ran off after her. It’s odd, he knew my name and about the TARDIS and you and the fact that Rose Tyler is in here.’

The Doctor frowned some more, and then moved towards Jack, Who immediately backed away from him and ended up against the TARDIS doors, causing the baby to cry in discomfort. ‘Jack?’

‘Sorry, he said you weren’t allowed to touch him. I don’t know why, he just did.’

Huffing, the Doctor stepped closer. ‘As if I’d want to hold him, Jack. What did this man look like?’

‘Um, tall. Brown suit, brown hair, sort of spiky, brown eyes. And a pair of white trainers.’

‘Right. Well, I don’t want him getting in the way of the TARDIS. Go and take him into the kitchen or something.’

Turning away, the Doctor went back to the console, and Jack made his way up the ramp, around the console and into the dark corridors of the TARDIS. The baby was looking around in a delighted away, seemingly unfazed by the interior of the ship. In fact, he seemed quite used to it, reaching out a hand and running a hand along the walls. The hum of the ship changed whenever he did that, it changed to a higher, almost happier pitch. Rose was in the kitchen, in the process of making some form of food, and she turned to him to say hello, but at the sight of the baby she stopped short.

‘Where the hell did you get that from?!’

‘I’m babysitting.’

‘You’re … babysitting…’

Setting the young boy on the table, Jack walked over to the kettle. ‘Don’t act so surprised. I may be good with babies.’

‘You’re an ex-conman, Jack. You’re good at lying and persuading, not looking after little people. I’ll look after him, if you want?’

For a moment, Jack was contemplating the idea, what’s going to happen if he lets Rose touch the baby? But then, something snaps in his mind. ‘NO!’ Rose looked up startled, in the act of reaching for the baby to pick him up, and froze, fingers only millimeters from him. ‘Sorry, the man who gave me him said you and the Doctor couldn’t touch him.’

Jack couldn’t help but notice the look of disappointment that flashed across her features. To hide it, Rose reached for her magazine instead, and sat on the opposite side of the table.

‘I never liked kids anyway.’

All in all, Jack didn’t really need to do much “looking after” the boy. He was quite happy to sit on the kitchen table and stare at the ceiling with a content smile on his face. Rose would occasionally glance up at him from the magazine, and when she did, they’d both look at each other with such a concentrated look that Jack felt just the tiniest bit scared. It was almost like they knew each other. The boys lying on his back, hands stretched towards the ceiling, when the Doctor enters the kitchen.

He was so surprised by the knock on the TARDIS doors that the Doctor bumped his head on the underside of the TARDIS. No one had knocked on his TARDIS. Ever. Grumbling to himself, he walked over to the doors and pulled the doors apart, fully intending to hit the “knocker” with his highest Oncoming Storm glare. Only to find him being the reciprocate of his own Oncoming Storm glare. That knocked him off kilter just for a moment, just enough time for this man, whoever he was, to insert himself well and truly in his mind, sharing memories with him.

‘Hello, past me. I’m you. And I believe you have my son.’