Yadda, yadda, I don't know Doctor Who, in any of its incarnations. I'm not even British. Not to mention Russel T. Davies is the man. Onwards!

Chapter 1:

Parallel Earth/Royal Hope Hospital, London.

It had been a fairly normal day in the Hospital. Well, as normal as things could be these days. They were a world struggling with alien politics, and more than anything, the hospitals felt it the worst. Their whole institution was constantly being flipped upside down the minute some alien came in begging for help, and they were required to at least try. Never the less, it usually stirred the rest of the patients up whenever they showed, even when they were well mannered and quiet about their entrances.

Needless to say, when a triad of purple humanoid blurs careened down the hallway, people were just a tad ruffled. The lead, a woman, accidentally tripped over a cart as she went, slipping along the linoleum with feet covered in what could only be described as goop. She called out a barely understandable sorry, echoed by the two male figures directly following her.

The woman turned sideways, sliding to a stop surprisingly well, leaving purple gloopy streaks in her wake as she slide up to the Nurse's desk, bumping into it lightly. The two behind her weren't as lucky. They stopped less gracefully, one tripped over a chair and found himself flat on his back.

"Hel-lo!" She woman sing songed and showed bright teeth.

The nurses were momentarily speechless.

"Excuse me," a nearby woman said pompously, sticking out her chest so that you could better see the tag labeling her head nurse or something equally pretencious, "I'm not sure what planet you came from, but here on earth we require a certain level of," the woman looked the three of them up and down with contempt, "cleanliness in order to see the patients."

The woman bit her lip and clasped her hands together in a plea, "I know, I know, and I'm truly sorry, it's just I got a little excited. If I could just see them through a window or something--"

"--Not possible." The nurse broke in.

The purple woman set her jaw subtly, taking the nurse in for what she was, hands shifting down to fist on her hips in a stance that spoke of bad, bad things.

"Pardon me," she began solidly, though still cordially, "but why not?"

"For your kin-- for you, it just wouldn't be possible."

Just as she had suspected, the Nurse's mere stance told volumes. This wasn't the first she'd run into, not by a long shot. People prejudiced against aliens. She couldn't blame them, in the large. Most everyone there had a negative experience, namely with Cybermen. It jaded people.

Still, it'd been almost five years! Earth had made great strides since then and, call her a crazy optimist, but it should have sunk in by now, with all the races that passed through, that not all non humans were evil, psychotic, hellbent creatures. For this woman to not only obviously detest non-humans, but to also be fatally unobservant about it...

The woman slowly strode closer to the desk, crossing her arms on the tabletop and pursing her lips, eyebrows crooked in a dangerous way.

"Nurse," She got a better look at the tag, "Fischer, I would like you to take a look at this," She smiled and pointed a thin finger at the badge sewn into her sleeve, "I usually don't like to flaunt this, but this is a symbol, as I'm sure you are aware, of Torchwood.

"I," She gestured to herself as if she were speaking to a five year old, "Am a member of Torchwood. These," another gesture, "are my colleages. We," a gesture, "do not appreciate prejudice of any kind. Now, I have spent the day swimming, and do take that literally, in the bodily secretions of a stranded, and mind you, peaceful, slime being. This has caused the current unfortunate circumstance of me being slimy and purple and it's not going away for 48 hours, but I assure you that I am 100 percent human, and that, if I were, in any way dangerous, I would be miles away right now.

"Now," She smiled again, "Nurse Fischer. It seems we have got off on the wrong foot. My name is Rose, and I am going to assume that you are a responsible and courteous representative of this hospital and will look under the list of patients for Tyler, please?"

Rose Tyler smiled cheerfully, displaying her teeth, all the whiter for the contrast. The nurses at the station and some passing people in labcoats all had stopped to watch the goings on with varying degrees of awe. Nurse Fischer did, as her name implied, a fantastic impression of a fish as well. It had been a long day for Rose and she couldn't help but gloat just a little at the woman's response. These days Torchwood was highly known and respected. Looking down on them was about the equivalent of saying Hitler was a rather nice bloke, so the woman had pretty well stepped in it now.

However it made Rose oblivious to the person who had just stepped up next to her until a white coated arm dropped right in front of her vision before fluidly plucking out a chart from behind the desk. Rose followed the line of the arm up to a young and undeniably pretty staff member. The woman was trying valiantly to remain professional and not smile at the situation and failing a little.

She ran a finger down the list and stopped after a second, "Well, Rose. Let's see, Tyler, Jackie? Is that who you're looking for?"

Rose flashed a happy smile, "Oh, fantastic, yes, and thank you so much,--" She looked down at the woman's name tag and almost laughed at herself for the twinge she received. There on her paper name tag in all caps, bold type, "Hello, I am The Doctor."

A slight punch in the shoulder from a recovered Mickey snapped her back to the situation.

"Uh, huh? Sorry…" She smile sheepishly.

The doctor didn't seem put off, "I said that there's no need to worry, it was a false labor. It looks like the baby will arrive right on schedule next month."

"Aw," Rose sighed happily, "oh, that's great, thank you so much…uh…Doctor–" The blonde motioned helplessly at her nametag.

"Oh, right, that. Yeah, I just started, they haven't gotten me my ID yet." The woman laughed lightly, "The name is Jones. Doctor Martha Jones."

--

Rose rested her head on the window, tucking her fists happily under her chin as she looked at the rows of infants on the other side of the glass. Doctor Jones stood back a respectable distance but close enough to deflect any worried anti-purplist grandparents. It wasn't her corner of the hospital, far from it actually, but it was her break and she didn't mind terribly. She was actually greatly enjoying Rose's company in the hour they'd had to chat.

They'd started talking about the hospital at first, particularly the silly policy that kept Rose from seeing Jackie, even though all she really had was a rather pronounced case of indigestion. The conversation about silly policies crossed over into Rose telling Martha bit about Torchwood's even sillier ones. Just little rituals one has to do before speaking to or meeting a certain alien. Some pointless, some for diplomatic reasons. Rose's particular favorite had been the time she'd had to hum the Benny Hill tune and then balance her shoes on her head the entire time she was talking to an Barcian diplomat.

Martha usually wasn't the quiet one of the group, but she found herself amazed somewhat. Not many people heard these stories, and she wasn't about to give up the chance. Their conversations had continued all the way through the walk to the Maternity Ward, which Martha had offered to show her around for the day when Jackie wasn't just being panicky. Apparently, the big bad Torchwood operative had a soft spot for babies, because the minute they stepped into the room, the blonde practically glued herself to the window.

"They're so tiny," Rose breathed, smudging the glass with her breath.

Martha took a step closer, smile across her face, "Do you have any?" She asked innocently. Rose blanched and backpedaled with little grace.

"Oh-- no, no." She laughed.

"Me either." Martha returned cheerfully but sighed, "I know what you mean though, and rest assured, kids these days withstand a lot more than they used to."

Rose could only tilt her head in complete agreement, "More resilient every generation. Everyone is always worried we do so badly when few realize how far we've come."

"Wow," Martha said half in humor, breaking the thick mood, "Deep."

"I know, right?" Rose grinned, "I'm more brilliant than I look." Rose finished, blatantly ignoring basic English grammar.

It'd been a while since Martha had really had a good laugh with someone. Let alone a near complete stranger. The last decade had put a stress on humanity as a whole as they struggled to gather themselves back up and adapt to the new alien presence on the world. Most people had run into one, some for the better, some for the worse. As for Martha, she was cautiously curious. Sure she'd had as many bad experiences as others, but she wasn't dumb enough to think that there were benefits to alien involvement and interaction.

She also had to admit she'd always had a sort of fascination about Torchwood. The organization that had bled out from between the ruble and took it upon themselves to regrow things back to the way they were. Martha had wondered what kind of people would be a part of it. She'd seen them from a distance and had drawn her own conclusions about them, and, frankly, Rose did not fit that mold in any way. She wasn't stoic or alien, she didn't carry a weapon, and honestly, looked far too young to be involved in the first place.

By the time Martha caught herself staring, Rose had noticed as well.

"Sorry!" Martha waved a hand, "It's just…well, you're not what I would have expected from Torchwood. Those other two, yeah." She let her sentence fade for a minute, "and now you think I'm an idiot."

"Don't worry about it. I get that a lot, and have for a long time. I'm older than I look, promise." Rose smiled.

Martha found herself with more questions on the tip of her tongue, and had almost convinced herself to ask them when, she was well and thoroughly interrupted by screams.

Martha and Rose spun toward the noise, both wound up tight. It only took a second for them to let out a sigh of relief as the maker of the sound revealed himself, clinging for dear life on Mickey's back. Mickey was a horribly aggressive piggy back ride giver, and the small boy loved it.

Rose's mouth twitched to the side as she leveled a look at Mickey who was avoiding her look by holding the child's arms and spinning him around in a shallow circle. The boy whooped a yell before collapsing into giggles. Of course, Rose wasn't having that, she propped a fist on her hip and waited until they spun just close enough…and hooked her arms under the boy's and gently lifted him away from the man.

"Come, now. We've made enough of a scene today, I think," Rose chastized, though she was smiling.

The boy wiggled around in Rose's grip and pointed at her, brown eyes wide, "You guys," he said gravely, "are purple."

Rose snorted and bopped the boy lightly on the head with a loose fist.

"…and you stink." He continued matter of factly, Rose instantly dropped him, dramatically but gently.

"That's what you get!" She said, crossing her arms before disolving into a smile and dropping a hand on the boy's head, "I made a friend today, want to meet her?"

He looked at her curiously, "Is she an alien?"

"Nope," Rose took him by the shoulders and turned him to look at Martha, "Jace, this is Doctor Martha Jones. Martha, meet Jace Tyler."

Martha's face dropped into a look of understanding, and she leaned down slightly to look the boy in the eyes. He couldn't be more than four, dark blonde hair, brown eyes, and a wicked wide grin to go with it.

"'Ello Jace," She said, "want to see where you brother or sister is going to be in a month?"

The boy nodded enthusistically and wiggled out of Rose's grip so that Martha could point out how things worked. Rose stepped back a bit, still close enough that she could keep an eye on Jace and far enough away that she could think to herself, pressing her lips together tightly and crossing her arms around her ribs.

This earth had made leaps and bounds, sure, but the people in this world…well, Rose had never seen people so suspicious in her life. It had been the decision when she'd first ended up here. After all the disasters the world had suffered and her father's sudden ascension to a seat of power… it just wouldn't look right if a daughter cropped up as well. Jackie was risky enough, they managed to explain that away after some effort, but there wasn't much one could do for Rose.

To the public eye, she was part of the Tyler's senior officers of Torchwood and that was all she could be. Ironically, she found herself nameless, answering questions with a, "Just Rose." It was kind of…lonely, and yet again she found herself thinking of a particular Doctor.

Five years and his constant presence in her thoughts hadn't lessened at all. They weren't so sad anymore. Sometimes something would strike her and knock her momentarily breathless, but you just have to push it away and keep on living, day after day.

Mickey was giving her that look again, and she smiled to reassure him before looking back at her little brother where he had just asked Martha where babies came from. The doctor assured him that, that was a question for his parents. Rose laughed at the imagery going with that future scenario. Jackie was a bit blunt sometimes…

Then, without warning, the world… Cracked.

Rose took in a sharp but silent gasp. She had a bare second to contemplate how you didn't truly recognize the pieces of your environment until they weren't there. The strong smell of antiseptic abruptly ceased, the soft hum of the air conditioners silenced, even the prickle of air on her skin was gone. She could barely even feel the floor under her feet. Her senses were just gone.

As weird as that was, it was nothing compared to what happened to the world around her. It was as if someone had doubled everything and skewed them just by a hair. No, it wasn't just doubled…and not just moved, it was changed. She stared at the walls breathlessly, noticing the copies of the posters on the wall weren't the same, the signs read different things. Fear struck her as she looked over at Mickey, who, unlike everyone else, had no afterimage.

Then she saw Martha.

The Martha she'd met was still kneeling on the floor, crisp white jacket standing out as she gesture in slow motions to Jace. Semi-transparent, one leg weirdly running through her other self's back, was another Martha, hair pulled back, arms loose at her side, and a wide eyed expression on her face. Rose couldn't tell what she was looking at, but she almost looked…scared.

'We will have it…' Said a voice from nowhere.

The blonde's face hardened, "Who's there?" she was surprised to hear her own voice, though it was warped.

'Have what is ours…'

Rose almost panicked, the doubled word was now smuding, slipping farther and farther apart into distinct forms. Her brother, and Mickey all thinned and distended. The reality of the situation grounded her, and she dipped into a reserve of strength that rarely failed her… and now, She. Was. Mad. No one messed with her friends. In a voice that spoke of ultimate authority, she spoke.

"Stop it." The world pulsed, "Stop. It. Now."

In a flash of gold, the world snapped back as if a rubber band had let go, wobbling almost comically before it settled. The force of her senses returning was almost a physical blow, and as soon as it was done…she sunk to her knees right in the middle of the maternity ward.

All she could do was stare in shock.

–––––-

Earth/Unit HQ, London.

Martha bodily flung herself out of her chair, arm flinging folders and pencils off the table to the floor. After a moment of shock, she propped herself up on her elbows, eyes wide as she tried to comprehend what she'd just seen. The lab around her spun uncontrollably for a second before settling. She waited for her mind to fully return before speaking to no one in particular.

"What, in the hell, was that?"

A/N: Alrighty, I wanted to preface this by saying that this is something of an amusement for me and, as my amusements go, I'm kind of cringing and waiting for it to wheel around and kick me square in the face. I have the plot outlined and I know exactly where I'm going but the devil is always in the details and my muses sometimes decide not to help me. So! I make no promises as to the speediness of this getting out, though I will try.

So, that said, I will be cherry picking things from ye olden Doctor Who times and a few of the audio adventure things but I'll try to maintain cohesion to the best of my abilities, though there is a fairly great chance that I'll miss something.In particular, I'm going to be rummaging around Gallifrey's timeline quite a bit and messing around with the fabric of space itself… y'know, nothing big. So, in advance, pardon any inconsistencies.

As to where everything actually falls: We're in Doctor Who between seasons 3 and 4 but after the christmas special. As far as season 4 goes, well, I'm liking it so far but I won't be able to include it since things would probably implode a couple episodes in, so consider it AU after the third. As to Torchwood, we're hitting that right after "A Day in the Death of." Yay for Dead!Owen.