Woot! Woot! Doctor Who Fanfiction. This will be an Eleventh Doctor romance story because, don't get me wrong, Ten will always hold a special place in my heart, but there's just something about Eleven that I can't help but love. Besides, there's not enough lovers of Eleven. Thus, this. Now, as much as I love River Song, she will not be in this story because one, it will have mentioning of the original plotline, but will not be following it and two, she is just too perfect for the Doctor, that I couldn't bring myself to tear them apart in my story. I hope you all understand. Do not worry, though, there shall be enough rivals for our dear protagonist. Anyway, here's the first chapter. Hope you enjoy it. Please, review. Oh! And if I get anything wrong pertaining to Torchwood please tell me and I shall correct it. Thanks.

Disclaimer: I do NOT Doctor Who; it is rightfully owned by Steve Moffat. All I own is Ryan Hicks, other OFCs, and the plot.

Warning: Eleventh Doctor and OFC romance, crude humor, swearing, mild sexual content, violence, some gore, some historical inconsistencies, and drug and alcohol references.


:1:

I'D ADMIT THAT not all of my plans were exactly full-proof, let alone considered brilliant. And I'd admit that the plan I was going through with right now was no exception to that. Absolutely not. Actually, if I was going to be completely honest, this plan was probably my dumbest one yet. Not to mention, my most illegal. Nevertheless, if I succeeded, it would be my most acclaimed one.

I was going to break into the British government's database. I was going to obtain all of its information pertaining to the secret organization Torchwood. I was going to get that perfect grade on my archaeology class thesis paper. My form was xenoarcheology and the subject being the existence of aliens and the secret organizations that are hiding extraterrestrial activity on Earth thus, Torchwood.

My professor had been very hesitant to give me permission to write my thesis on Torchwood because, to most people, it was just a myth, especially to us Americans. I understood his apprehension, as there was very little evidence of the organization; there was pretty much close to nothing on it. However, that's if you didn't know where to look. If you looked hard enough, one could find exactly what they needed. I knew where to look because I had been studying xenoarcheology since I was young.

Torchwood had been around for more than two centuries and had been covering up alien and supernatural activity since then. There were very few witnesses to the activates of Torchwood, only handful, which I found near impossible so I had a theory that they had something to erase the person's memory of them—that was a story for another day, though. Either way, the witnesses' statements were difficult to decipher and very misleading making people believe they were just crazy—something that wasn't entirely improbable. Not to mention, Torchwood was incredibly discreet. The only cases that I had obtained any kind of information from were the couple of times a few years ago when alien activity had occurred worldwide, but that was because I had seen it with my own two eyes. People tried denying that the planet hadn't been almost invaded twice, but even a blind person had seen what had happened; it had been all over the sky and on the television. Even Torchwood couldn't hide what had happened.

Long story short, Torchwood and aliens existed and I was going to prove such in my paper, but I needed the evidence. And the only way I was going to do that was getting it from the direct source AKA the Torchwood database. And that meant I had to hack into the British government's and worm my way through it to the Torchwood one.

A very tricky and illegal thing indeed.

Thankfully, I had a genius for a roommate and a mighty Devil-may-care attitude.

"I hope ya know how nuts this all is." pointed out my aforementioned genius of a roommate, Corey Angies from his place before my laptop.

"Well, its not like you disagreed to it." I countered in the same Know-It-All tone as him, my arms crossed over my chest. I was standing behind the blonde at my bedroom's desk, impatiently waiting.

"She's got ya there, babe." my other roommate, Jordan MacDonald's piped up. The petite brunette was perched on top of my unmade bed, idly kicking her legs back and forth.

Corey shot a glare over his broad shoulder at his girlfriend, yet said nothing and continued to clack away at the computer's keyboard. "That doesn't make this any less nuts. I only agreed to it because Ryan told me to use her laptop, so it'd trace back to her and not to me."

"And if I promised to pay you fifty bucks." I added bitterly. I was going to miss that fifty bucks. "Besides, it won't get traced, not if you do it correctly."

"Yeah, if." he retorted huffily.

Childishly, I stuck out my tongue at the back of his head.

"But are you really sure about this, Ry?" asked Jordan, her big brown eyes looking up at me worriedly. "I mean, Dr. Yeager gave us so many other topics to research. Ones that would be so much easier,"

"And less illegal!" exclaimed Corey.

Jordan and I rolled our eyes; he was such a whiner. Jordan went on, "You're one of the best students in the class, you'd get an 'A' on anything you did, so why this?"

"I don't want an easy 'A', Jordan." I admitted truthfully. I raked a hand through my thick, strawberry-blonde locks. "I want to do my thesis on something I have interest in, on something no one's ever done before. All those other subjects are boring and overdone." Noticing my best friend's frown, I quickly added albeit awkwardly, "Uh, no offense, hun."

"In other words, she wants to show off." the only male in the room interjected again, baby blues focused on the computer screen.

Scowling, I whacked the back of his head. He yelped and glowered back at me, rubbing his now throbbing skull. I just returned the look evenly before pointing to back to my computer, saying, "Fifty bucks." He snorted indignantly, but returned to working.

Fifty bucks was fifty bucks, after all.

"All right, I'm in. I've hacked into the Torchwood database." Corey finally announced after another hour of waiting, sounding exasperated, but quite proud of himself as well. Excitedly, I shot up from my place beside Jordan on my bed of our shared apartment and rushed to the desk; if I was a dog, my tail would've been wagging. Corey turned, spinning slightly in my wheelie chair, and pointed a slightly thick finger at me sternly. "Now, only look at the files that you'll need for your research, nothing else, and be quick about it 'cuz I could only manage to get you half an hour before the British government discovers that they've been hacked. Got it?" he explained slowly.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I rolled my eyes beneath my glasses, my eagerness taking over and making me fidget. "Now, move." I ordered, shoving him from my chair.

"I'm being serious, Ryan. thirty minutes. Only what you need." He shoved me back.

"Okay! I get it! I'm not a dumbass!" I returned his shove with another shove, but harder.

"Ryan,"

Another shove.

"You're wasting time, Corey!"

Another shove.

Sighing deeply in frustration, Corey gave up and stood. "C'mon, Jordan. Lets leave the psycho to her work." he grumbled. I promptly flipped him off from over my shoulder, sitting down, and brushed off the trepid expression Jordan gave me before exiting my room with her boyfriend.

She had no reason to be worried, I was a big girl, I knew what I was doing, no matter how ludicrous my plan was.

I was going to get that perfect grade, no matter what.

Wiggling my fingers and beaming like a madwoman, I pulled my laptop closer to me and got to work.

And my God, the stuff I learned. I had officially hit a Gold Mine, I had found the Holy Grail, and any other way you could describe the information I found.

For starters, I had found the usual basic stuff like when Torchwood had been established (1879) and where institutes were built (England, Wales, Scotland, and India) and what was it exactly they did. Basically, things I already knew, including that one of the institutes, Torchwood Four, was missing. Second, I found things I didn't know and that was the information that I had desperately needed for my research paper.

As I worked, I jotted down everything speedily on the notepad I always had placed beside my computer. As my eyes danced about, so did my hand and I knew there was a huge grin on my face. I even found out a couple of extra things, seeing I had a lot of time because I was working so fast. For instance, I dipped into a special file titled "The Doctor". There wasn't much in it, except that he was a mysterious man, who seemed to change his face, traveled in a blue box, and was considered an enemy to the Crown.

Eventually, I found all that I could possibly find and had scribbled it down. That being, I was about to exit out of window when something caught my eye.

A file hidden all the way in the corner that read "Top Secret".

As I stared at it, I bit my lip feeling that side of me that loved taking risks and was terribly curious rear its ugly head.

I checked the digital clock on the top right-hand side of my computer. I had two more minutes before I had log out.

I smirked.

That was enough time. That was definitely enough time to give the file a bit of a peek.

I opened the file and instantly began to read.

And what I read made absolutely no sense to me. All I could get from it was that the file had been written by a man called Jack Harkness and that it pertained to the Doctor, something called the Time Vortex, and needles. That was it. It seemed so jumbled and complicated that I had a lot of trouble wrapping my mind around it.

However, before I could go further in depth, a hand shot out, slamming down on the mouse pad and exiting out of the Torchwood database.

"Hey!"

"I said half an hour, Ryan." Corey glared down at me.

I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest. "Tight ass…" I said under my breath.


After listening to Corey chide to me for nearly two hours, including over dinner, I went back to my room to start on my paper. Sure, it was not due for another month and typing up forty-five pages, double-spaced in twelve-point font would be simple for me—not to brag or anything—but all the information I had learned was still fresh in my mind and was begging me to get started. Thus, I went straight to it, organizing my notes, drawing up a diagram of what I wanted in my thesis, and then, writing up the first rough draft.

It was about 2:30 am and I was a quarter of the way done when there came a light knock at my door.

I placed down my pen and turned to see Jordan standing there. I arched an eyebrow. "Hey, what are you doing still up?" I inquired quizzically.

"Its kinda hard when the person next to you keeps talking." the younger and shorter female admitted sheepishly.

I deadpanned. "Is he still bitching and moaning?" She nodded, her embarrassment growing for her lover. I rolled my greenish hues, groaning—Corey was twenty-two for Christ's sake. "He's such a pain in the ass. You'd think after paying him, he'd shut up."

"He just likes to hear himself talk."

"That's true," I laughed with her shortly joining in.

After a few moments of us giggling at Corey's expense, we calmed and Jordan made herself comfortable on my bed, straightening her baggy nightshirt that had originally belonged to Corey. "Ryan, may I ask you something?" she said seriously.

My brows furrowed bemused by her tone, but replied, nonetheless, "Uh, yeah, sure. Shoot."

"Don't you think you're taking things a little too far?" she questioned.

I blinked. "…Meaning?"

"I mean, breaking into the British government's database, fishing through a secret organization's files…y'know, stuff like that."

"C'mon, Jordan. Yeah, it was illegal, but I logged off before my fifteen minutes were up and I have some really awesome stuff for my paper. It's not that big of a deal. The British won't know and I'm sure the professor won't question where I got the information—I'll say I found newspaper articles or something. It'll be fine. I've covered all the bases. No worries."

Jordan sighed, fiddling her massive mane that she had put in low pigtails. "That's not what I meant, Ry."

"Then, what did you mean?"

"I meant your weird obsession with all this extraterrestrial, sci-fi, space and time travel stuff."

"Oh…"

Frowning, I scratched my ear, looking away, looking pointedly to the single picture frame I had on my desk.

It was of a man with a smile that could light up any room, graying black hair, almond-shaped eyes, and a tiny beauty mark beneath one eye. He wasn't a very handsome man, but you could tell, just from that single picture that he had been a kind-hearted and eager man, brimming with life.

I steadily peered back to Jordan. She was looking at me sadly as she had followed my gaze. I gave her a very tiny grin. "Dad loved that kinda stuff and would constantly go on about it. People thought he was nuts. I wanna prove that he wasn't and this is the first step." I confessed softly.

"Ryan," Jordan began.

I cut her off not wanting to hear her apologizes, not wanting to have her pity, having heard it so many times before. "Besides," I peered behind me, out my window at the night sky that was filled with stars and was lighted up by the brilliant moon. "Doesn't everyone dream of what lies out there?" I murmured solemnly, mostly to myself.

Taking a deep breath, I turned back to my friend and forced a grin upon my face. "Anyway, I've got a paper to write and you have sleep to catch up on, missy, so get out."

Seeming convinced by my smile, Jordan laughed, shaking her head. "All right, all right," she rose, giggling. "I know when I'm not wanted." She gave me a quick hug, which I happily returned. "Don't stay up too late, young lady. We have an eight o'clock shift tomorrow that ya can't call out of this time. Got it?

I mocked a roll of my eyes. "Yes, Mother."

She smacked my shoulder lightly, but laughed before leaving, closing the door behind her. I sighed, sinking in my seat once my door was closed, and looked back at my window.


Thank you so much for reading~! Please, review!