But the joke of this whole thing is, if I choose to insert the OC's I made a few months ago, the baby-her name is Anna-is a blonde.
So he was right the whole time. :I
The Doctor is completely, absolutely, positively sure that the baby will be a blonde. Tegan thinks otherwise.
"I'll tell you again and again until you admit that you're wrong," she teases, over a cup of cocoa. It's cold, and the heating unit in the TARIDS is acting up again, so he's covered Tegan in several layers of fluffy blankets found in a spare closet. Nyssa and Adric are in similar positions, each snuggled in a separate armchair, with a tall stack of books on the table before him. (In fact, the Doctor's not even sure what it is they're looking up this time, but a part of him doesn't want to know.)
"Now you're not even listening to me," she laughs, snapping her fingers inches from his face.
"Sorry, just thinking." He smiles and leans over the couch to kiss her, tasting the chocolate on her lips. He sits back, then, and looks at her, looks at the–blonde, because he said so–child she carries.
The baby's most definitely a Time Lord (or Lady), which is something they hadn't known until a short while ago–until he'd listened and heard a distinctive double-rhythm in comparison to Tegan's own. That had made their hearts soar. Remembering this, he sifts through the blankets to lay his head down on her, to listen to that beautiful double-beat of a Time Lord's life.
Tegan doesn't object to this movement, and adjusts herself on the sofa accordingly. Taking another drink, she grins against the rim of the mug.
"I'd be careful if I were you," she warns. "Remember how you got kicked last time."
He groans. "Oh, how could I forget..." (Said instance had resulted in a painful jab to the nose, which Tegan had laughed over for quite some time. She'd never let him forget at this rate.)
He does feel movement, but it's underneath where Tegan's hand rests, higher up than where he lies. She smiles and taps one bright red fingernail against the area, getting another gentle kick in return. He reaches up to move her hand and kiss the spot, before beginning to rub lazy circles across her belly with one hand. Tegan watches him, smirking.
"You're such a romantic, Doctor."
"It's exciting, though," he defends. "Just think of it–another little Time Lord. I couldn't be happier, Tegan."
She thinks on the matter for a moment. "Well, not technically a full Time Lord, though. After all, I am human."
"But I don't think that it's all that different–after all, our genetics were compatible...but I think this one's more alien, then, with those two hearts."
She nods, and stays silent for a second. He kisses another spot where he feels movement, and she can feel him smirk against her stomach.
"And I'm convinced that this baby will be a blonde."
Tegan groans.
"I'll tell you again and again until you admit that you're wrong," she teases, over a cup of cocoa. It's cold, and the heating unit in the TARIDS is acting up again, so he's covered Tegan in several layers of fluffy blankets found in a spare closet. Nyssa and Adric are in similar positions, each snuggled in a separate armchair, with a tall stack of books on the table before him. (In fact, the Doctor's not even sure what it is they're looking up this time, but a part of him doesn't want to know.)
"Now you're not even listening to me," she laughs, snapping her fingers inches from his face.
"Sorry, just thinking." He smiles and leans over the couch to kiss her, tasting the chocolate on her lips. He sits back, then, and looks at her, looks at the–blonde, because he said so–child she carries.
The baby's most definitely a Time Lord (or Lady), which is something they hadn't known until a short while ago–until he'd listened and heard a distinctive double-rhythm in comparison to Tegan's own. That had made their hearts soar. Remembering this, he sifts through the blankets to lay his head down on her, to listen to that beautiful double-beat of a Time Lord's life.
Tegan doesn't object to this movement, and adjusts herself on the sofa accordingly. Taking another drink, she grins against the rim of the mug.
"I'd be careful if I were you," she warns. "Remember how you got kicked last time."
He groans. "Oh, how could I forget..." (Said instance had resulted in a painful jab to the nose, which Tegan had laughed over for quite some time. She'd never let him forget at this rate.)
He does feel movement, but it's underneath where Tegan's hand rests, higher up than where he lies. She smiles and taps one bright red fingernail against the area, getting another gentle kick in return. He reaches up to move her hand and kiss the spot, before beginning to rub lazy circles across her belly with one hand. Tegan watches him, smirking.
"You're such a romantic, Doctor."
"It's exciting, though," he defends. "Just think of it–another little Time Lord. I couldn't be happier, Tegan."
She thinks on the matter for a moment. "Well, not technically a full Time Lord, though. After all, I am human."
"But I don't think that it's all that different–after all, our genetics were compatible...but I think this one's more alien, then, with those two hearts."
She nods, and stays silent for a second. He kisses another spot where he feels movement, and she can feel him smirk against her stomach.
"And I'm convinced that this baby will be a blonde."
Tegan groans.