From The Light Of The Stars

Chapter 2: How Can I Tell Him?

     She pressed her stomach again, harder this time. Anxiety played at the tips of her fingers, exploring the unusual feeling beneath her hands. There was a firmness there, but not a muscle firmness. It was rounder, harder, and more alive.

     Trembling she placed both her hands on her stomach and looked down. It didn't show. She couldn't be, could she? But what if she was?!

     Her mind whirling Clara turned off the shower and struggled into one of the Doctor's old shirts, which she always wore to bed. The TARDIS would know. She'd ask for a scan, and then she'd be certain.

     She walked into the Console Room on shaking legs, looking at her watch. It was 10:30pm, and The Doctor had said he'd be back by ten. If she was lucky she still had about ten minutes to spare before he came home, late and as grumpy as an old cat.

     She spoke to the TARDIS:

     "Visual interface please."

     An image of the Doctor appeared. Usually she would have told the TARDIS to pick someone else. It was always weird talking to him but not talking to him. But there was no time now. Heck, that was why she was using the interface anyway, she didn't have time to work out the different buttons for herself.

     "Pregnancy scan please. Human - Timelord compatible. And as quick as you like." Her voice sounded loud and brash in her ears, she glanced anxiously at the door, not wanting to be found in the middle of her mission.

     A familiar, though strangely robotic voice replied to her:

     "What would you like to know? Confirmation of pregnancy, date of conception, gender of the child, percentage of human and Timelord -"

     She broke the interface off in the middle of its sentence. "Just confirmation and length of pregnancy and the date of conception thanks."

     A shining circle of light appeared in in front of her, and she put her hand through.

     "Please stay completely still while the scan takes place."

     Bands of light were moving down her body now, collecting around her middle. The Console was buzzing and bleeping, almost as if it were alive. Well, it was. In a way.

     Clara could feel the drips of sweat threading their way down her back. Her muscles were shaking involuntarily: the more she did to stay still the more she shook. A tiny leaf in the winds of time.

     Suddenly the bleeping stopped, and the lights around her stomach faded away.

     "You-" started the interface.

     "Wait no! No no no, I'm not ready. Give me a moment, let me read it for myself."

     The interface fizzled off as the TARDIS made an grumpy little sound. She didn't like being interrupted by anyone, let alone Clara. But just this once she obliged that 'Impossible Girl' and displayed the relevant information up on the monitor. She already knew the results, and after all, her Thief was involved. 

     Clara stood where she was for what seemed like hours. Hair hot against her face, cold fingers twisting themselves into impossible knots. Her head was heavy with anticipation: she couldn't lift it, not yet.  Not yet.

     Suddenly she snapped her body straight, and looked deliberately at the monitor. It was now or never. She wouldn't be alone in the TARDIS again, not for a very long time.

     Clara reeled backwards as the words on the screen came into focus. Slow motion, heart beating, the silent scream in her ears.

     Status: Pregnant.
     Length of pregnancy: 6 months 2 weeks
     Date of conception: 27th March 2069 AD

Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. OH MY ACTUAL GOSH!

The blood was booming in her her head as she stumbled back to her room, and her stomach had dropped to her feet. How could this be happening? How could she be 6 months pregnant and not know it? How was the baby still living?
The questions ran around her mind, like frightened rabbits at the sound of the a gun. So many, so difficult, so impossible. A new thought came with every breath, but soon over and over again one single, terrifying sentence kept repeating itself like a scratched CD . It was all she could think of, all she could ask:

How on earth was she going to tell him? How on earth was she going to tell him? How on earth was she going to tell him, her Doctor, her husband, the father of her child.