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Walking into their kitchen, the Doctor rubbed at his eyes a bit, still waking up. A smile found its way onto his lips as he finally set eyes on Rose. Still in her oversized nightie, she stood facing away from him, chopping something on top of the counter. He feared it could be more pears. That had been a particular favorite of hers recently.
Stepping closer, he was relieved to see she was cutting up an apple. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his hands over her stomach, hoping to catch a kick below his fingertips.
“What are you doing up? ‘Bed was getting cold,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck.
“Sorry. ‘Craving,” she explained in short order. She was very focused on the task at hand.
He made a ‘mm’ sound and turned his face, kissing her pulse point. “Me too,” he said. She let out a shaky breath. That was another one of her constant cravings as well.
“’Least this one doesn’t seem too weird," he mused. "Not yet, anyway.”
“Emphasis on the yet,” she turned her head a bit and smiled at him.
“Oh, no,” he said, overly dramatic. “Will I be scarred again?”
“Nah, it’s not that bad. Not really,” she said.
“Care to elaborate?”
“Apples as you can see,” she began.
He nodded. “With...?”
“I’m still deciding. Can you see if there’s any spaghetti left in the fridge from earlier?”
“What?” his voice took on an incredulous tone.
“Just for the sauce,” she said, her face taking on a more defensive look that he adored. He kissed her cheek.
“Can you, please? I know it’s cliché but I feel like I’ve got a watermelon hanging off me.”
“Always for you,” he said, running a hand down her arm as he moved away.
“Get me some cream cheese too! And strawberry jam!” He laughed but did as he was told.
When he returned to the counter she was waiting excitedly.
“Oh, and can you get me the big mixing bowl?” she pointed up. “Someone put it away all the way up there. I wanted to get it earlier and couldn’t. I usually stand on a chair or jump but clearly, neither is an option for me anymore,” she said, looking down at her round stomach.
He did as she asked, reaching up, opening the cabinet, and fetching the bowl he knew she wanted. He presented it to her.
“It’s not fair that you can just reach that without any effort. You didn’t even have to stand on your toes,” she sighed. He chucked.
“That's what makes me useful. Your knight in shining armor.”
“Something like that,” she smirked, already opening container lids. She quickly dumped all three unfortunate ingredients together. After a good stir, she took a seat and started dipping her apple slices in it.
“That is truly disgusting,” he said, but affection was clear in his voice and expression as he shook his head in wonder.
“And I’m carrying your giant child so you can hush. That’s who this is for! I never wanted this stuff before. It’s the baby. He’s the one with the weird alien taste. It's clouded my brain.”
“She has done no such thing. ‘Has to contend with you same as I do,” he shot back. They’d held off finding out the gender so far, which meant lots of arguing over whose intuition was right. He had a theory that Rose secretly agreed with him and simply continued to insist that the baby was a boy to further devil him.
“Hey, watch it. You’re both lucky to have me,” she squinted her eyes at him, taking another bite.
“Yes, we are,” he said, grinning then. He took the seat at the bar beside her, scooting it closer than would ever be necessary as he did so, resting a hand on her back. He rubbed small circles at the base of her spine. He knew she’d been having back pain from the extra weight.
He rested his head on her shoulder, feeling tired again after another night filled with cravings and labor scares and morning sickness. He had no right to complain, so he never did. Rose was the one going through everything firsthand. And he’d contend with every little inconvenience and much bigger ones since it meant they’d soon be meeting their daughter. Any day now.
Just as he felt himself begin to nod off, he was brought back to the present at Rose’s voice. “Can you get me the pickle jar?”