Trying something new here: mpreg fic!
Written in response to LJ mpreg Day: Here's my entry. Too short, written far too quickly and utterly unbeta'ed. Critiques welcome 'cause I know this is crap, but I think that with some rewrites and editing there may be hope for it. Oh, and it's gen. In addition to the usual disclaimer (Neither Doctor Who nor any of its characters are mine and I don't have permission to use them) I shall add that I've never written mpreg before. So think of this as an experiment.
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Going To Seed
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It was the oldest con in the universe, Jack thought. "I'm an all-powerful alien. Who just happens to look exactly like a human." Yeah right. Mind you, it had worked well enough to get Jack into the pants of several gullible humans, but that was different. It was justified, he reckoned, because being from a distant time made him at least as alien as if he were from a distant planet. But the Doctor didn't seem to know when to quit. He had to play the "I'm the last of my race, all alone in the universe" sympathy card as well.
Jack wasn't buying it. Can't con a con.
He just wished he knew why. The Doctor didn't seem interested in conning his way into anyone's bed. Not even mine, alas. So why the act?
---
The Forest of Cheem was a beautiful place, but the funeral -- memorial, Jack reminded himself; funerals require a body -- was deadly dull. He hadn't even known the deceased. And the trees, while lovely people in their own way, were disappointingly resistant to his charms. Just as well, he consoled himself. Probably give him splinters.
The deceased, it seemed, was a tree called Jabe. Died heroically, saving a whole space station full of people. Rose tried to explain it to him while they were both being ignored by the trees. But there was the Doctor, man of the hour, in a circle of herbaceous mourners, getting as many condolences as he was giving. Jack looked on in amazement. Maybe he should try that "last of my kind" line sometime.
---some months later---
The Doctor had been moody as long as Jack had known him, but something had changed. He used to try to hide his melancholy with a snarky remark or a knowing smile. Not anymore. Used to be, if he paid attention, Jack could usually suss out why the Doctor was in a particular mood. Not anymore. Now his moods were even more variable than before, and they were utterly unpredictable besides. And he was talking to himself. More. And not talking to Jack or Rose at all, unless grumpy monosyllables count. Not good.
And he spent every waking moment in the laboratory. Not the regular lab, the one that was really more of a workshop, but the one that might, on some planets, be mistaken for a medical lab. That's it, Jack thought, something is really wrong.
Never one to dance delicately around an issue, he just asked. "Doctor, are you okay? Is something wrong?"
He expected a wave of the hand and a grouchy denial. Or "Nothing I can't handle." Or even "None of your business."
He did not expect to hear "Possibly. It seems I'm pregnant."
---
Jack thought of himself as a rather enlightened 51st-century dude, but this was too much. Guys just don't get... "No wait," he said. "Back up. Did you say pregnant?!?!"
"You heard right. Clever ape."
"But how...? Who...?"
"Not sure who exactly-"
"You don't even know? How many people you been fooling around with, Doctor?" The Doctor gave Jack a look and he shut up.
"Ahem. I'm not sure who exactly, but I suspect the, er, father is Jabe. The timing's about right, near as I can tell. I'm running some tests to be sure."
"Jabe? Isn't she dead?"
Yes. Which is why -- and I'm just speculating here -- her kin would have attempted this. Keeping her alive by propagating her, er, seed. So to speak. I suppose I should feel honoured."
Yup, he's an alien. "Honoured, yeah. I can think of a few other reactions I'd have, and feeling honoured isn't even close to the top of the list." The look he got this time was even worse than the last one. "Sorry," he added quickly, "Not thinking. So, what are you going to name the little... guy? Or girl? Or...sprout?"
"I probably won't have to," the Doctor replied sadly. "Jabe's people are quite prolific, er, pollinators, but only because they have to be. Germination rate is very low. Add to that the fact that my kind are -- were -- functionally sterile, and it's rather improbable that this pregnancy's even progressed this far. Viable offspring would be nothing short of miraculous."
Long silence. "I'm so sorry."
"So am I."
---
Once again the Doctor found himself in the Forest of Cheem. He presented the dozen shiny brown seeds to Jabe's next of kin with his apologies. Scans had shown no signs of life. In silence the seeds were planted anyway, in the rich soil on the site of Jabe's memorial. But the silence did not extend to the forest around. Leaves rustled and bark creaked as the ancients of Cheem told again the story of their lost daughter and the last Time Lord.
-
Going To Seed
-
It was the oldest con in the universe, Jack thought. "I'm an all-powerful alien. Who just happens to look exactly like a human." Yeah right. Mind you, it had worked well enough to get Jack into the pants of several gullible humans, but that was different. It was justified, he reckoned, because being from a distant time made him at least as alien as if he were from a distant planet. But the Doctor didn't seem to know when to quit. He had to play the "I'm the last of my race, all alone in the universe" sympathy card as well.
Jack wasn't buying it. Can't con a con.
He just wished he knew why. The Doctor didn't seem interested in conning his way into anyone's bed. Not even mine, alas. So why the act?
---
The Forest of Cheem was a beautiful place, but the funeral -- memorial, Jack reminded himself; funerals require a body -- was deadly dull. He hadn't even known the deceased. And the trees, while lovely people in their own way, were disappointingly resistant to his charms. Just as well, he consoled himself. Probably give him splinters.
The deceased, it seemed, was a tree called Jabe. Died heroically, saving a whole space station full of people. Rose tried to explain it to him while they were both being ignored by the trees. But there was the Doctor, man of the hour, in a circle of herbaceous mourners, getting as many condolences as he was giving. Jack looked on in amazement. Maybe he should try that "last of my kind" line sometime.
---some months later---
The Doctor had been moody as long as Jack had known him, but something had changed. He used to try to hide his melancholy with a snarky remark or a knowing smile. Not anymore. Used to be, if he paid attention, Jack could usually suss out why the Doctor was in a particular mood. Not anymore. Now his moods were even more variable than before, and they were utterly unpredictable besides. And he was talking to himself. More. And not talking to Jack or Rose at all, unless grumpy monosyllables count. Not good.
And he spent every waking moment in the laboratory. Not the regular lab, the one that was really more of a workshop, but the one that might, on some planets, be mistaken for a medical lab. That's it, Jack thought, something is really wrong.
Never one to dance delicately around an issue, he just asked. "Doctor, are you okay? Is something wrong?"
He expected a wave of the hand and a grouchy denial. Or "Nothing I can't handle." Or even "None of your business."
He did not expect to hear "Possibly. It seems I'm pregnant."
---
Jack thought of himself as a rather enlightened 51st-century dude, but this was too much. Guys just don't get... "No wait," he said. "Back up. Did you say pregnant?!?!"
"You heard right. Clever ape."
"But how...? Who...?"
"Not sure who exactly-"
"You don't even know? How many people you been fooling around with, Doctor?" The Doctor gave Jack a look and he shut up.
"Ahem. I'm not sure who exactly, but I suspect the, er, father is Jabe. The timing's about right, near as I can tell. I'm running some tests to be sure."
"Jabe? Isn't she dead?"
Yes. Which is why -- and I'm just speculating here -- her kin would have attempted this. Keeping her alive by propagating her, er, seed. So to speak. I suppose I should feel honoured."
Yup, he's an alien. "Honoured, yeah. I can think of a few other reactions I'd have, and feeling honoured isn't even close to the top of the list." The look he got this time was even worse than the last one. "Sorry," he added quickly, "Not thinking. So, what are you going to name the little... guy? Or girl? Or...sprout?"
"I probably won't have to," the Doctor replied sadly. "Jabe's people are quite prolific, er, pollinators, but only because they have to be. Germination rate is very low. Add to that the fact that my kind are -- were -- functionally sterile, and it's rather improbable that this pregnancy's even progressed this far. Viable offspring would be nothing short of miraculous."
Long silence. "I'm so sorry."
"So am I."
---
Once again the Doctor found himself in the Forest of Cheem. He presented the dozen shiny brown seeds to Jabe's next of kin with his apologies. Scans had shown no signs of life. In silence the seeds were planted anyway, in the rich soil on the site of Jabe's memorial. But the silence did not extend to the forest around. Leaves rustled and bark creaked as the ancients of Cheem told again the story of their lost daughter and the last Time Lord.