Work Text:
He stood on the wooden porch, leaning against the railing, allowing the night air to fill his lungs. Fireflies twinkled here and there, lazily flitting through the night. The Doctor sighed, feeling rather content. A gentle tug on his jacket caused him to look down. His three year old daughter, Sophie, looked up at him with big blue eyes.
“Hold me, Daddy?” she asked shyly.
He squatted low, smiling at the toddler’s round eyes. “Why are you still up, little one? Didn’t Mummy tuck you into bed already?”
Her eyes were solemn. “She said I could come say goodnight first.”
Of course- he should have known better. She was a timid little thing, cautious and careful, rarely disobeying. She stood in striped pyjamas and clutched her tatty yellow security blanket, waiting for his response.
“Let’s sit on the rocking chair, sweetheart,” he smiled, taking hold of her plump little hand. They walked the few steps over to the second-hand rocking chair and he pulled her into his lap.
“Daddy, you’re squishing my blankie.” She tugged it gently.
He untangled the blanket which was wrapped around her and sandwiched between his leg and the side of the chair. “Better?”
“Thank you,” she said, holding it protectively.
“What did you do today, sweetheart?” he asked her.
“Mummy bought me some new jammies an’ they’re purple an’ there are ponies on them.”
He chuckled. “And what else did you do?”
Sophie put her hand on his jacket and pushed herself up so she could look into his eyes. “We talked about you because you were gone and we both missed you today.”
“Ahh. Well, I missed you too, love. Both of you.”
“Do you go away again tomorrow?”
He shook his head. “No, tomorrow is Saturday. Daddy’s home on Saturdays.”
She nodded and leaned back against him.
He wrapped an arm around her little body and smiled when she yawned.
A firefly landed on the arm of the rocking chair and flashed twice, the soft yellow light reflecting dully on the white paint. She instantly pulled back and wiggled to get down.
“It’s okay. It won’t hurt you,” he said soothingly, holding her up.
“I don’t like them up close,” she whimpered.
He studied her, watching as she backed further away, her hands fisted in tight little balls. “Why do they scare you, sweetheart?” he asked gently.
“I don’t want it to burn me.”
It lit up again, causing her to bury her face in his chest.
“Sophie, love, they can’t burn you. Why do you think that?”
Her lower lip wavered. “’S what the lights do. Fireflies. They make fires.”
His eyebrows raised and he patted her back gently, now understanding her fear. “No, sweetheart, that’s not why they’re called fireflies. The lights won’t hurt anyone. They can’t burn anyone. It’s…it’s how they talk to each other. Instead speaking like you and I do, they flash their lights.”
“They don’t make fires?” she asked softly.
“No. I promise you, love, they don’t.”
“Oh.” Her hands relaxed and she patted his arm. “‘M glad they are just talkin’.”
He put his hand down on the chair and the small beetle crawled onto his finger. It flashed once and Sophie flinched.
“It’s alright. See?”
“Daddy? What’s he saying?”
Rose walked out onto the porch, smiling. “I believe he’s saying it’s time for you to be tucked into bed.”
She gazed up at her mother adoringly. “It’s okay, Mummy, he won’t hurt you. He doesn’t burn when he lights up. Daddy’s fine.”
Rose raised an eyebrow and gave her daughter a smile. “I’m glad to hear that.”
They exchanged amused glances and Rose scooped up their daughter. “Say goodnight, Sophie.”
“Night, Daddy. I love you.”
He stood up and put his finger against the porch railing allowing the firefly to crawl away. Bending down, he kissed the little girl’s forehead. “Goodnight, love. Pleasant dreams.”
She waved as Rose carried her back into the house.
He watched as they entered the house and sank back down into the old rocker.
~OoO~
Rose returned a short time later carrying a plate of biscuits and two mugs of tea. “Snack?” she said, smiling. She sighed and sank into the rocker next to him. “What was she goin’ on about with the fireflies?”
“Ah. She had a rather literal interpretation of their name. She thought the lights caused fires and would burn whatever touched them.”
She smiled. “Poor little thing. I always thought toddlers were fearless, but she’s just…” she trailed off.
He nodded and squeezed her hand.
Rose picked up a biscuit and nibbled on the end. “How was work?”
He shrugged. “Okay- nice weather brings out a lot of sprains and strains, but it wasn’t so bad. The clinic’s never slow, but it seems like there hasn’t been quite as much illness lately- mostly just injuries.”
She picked up her necklace and slid the pendant around on the chain. “Are you terribly unhappy?”
“Rose?”
“I mean, I know we’ve talked about this before, but…but I just want to make sure you’re not miserable. I miss the stars sometimes. You must ache for them.”
The Doctor shook his head. “I do miss it sometimes- just like you do.” He looked around the porch and indicated up to Sophie’s room. “But I wouldn’t trade bein’ her dad for anything. Not even the stars.”
She smiled and sighed, feeling content. “I feel the same way.”
The Doctor sat his hand on top of hers and gave it a squeeze. True, this life wasn’t what he’d expected- far from it; but he had a sneaking suspicion that it was exactly what he needed. And that, stated very simply, was enough.