Okay, here we go! I just watched all of Life On Mars for the first time recently and completely fell in love with the show (and Sam!), and felt totally compelled to write a story about it. Then the idea for this just hit me - what if there had been someone else like Sam back in 1973, out of their time and confused? I thought it would be interesting to see what the experience would be like for both of them, and so... voila!

Can I also just apologise to you if you are one of the people reading my Doctor Who story Simple Love and have been furiously demanding an update - I didn't do much writing at all over Christmas, and I have a oneshot that I need to get finished (It'll most likely be up by the end of this week), and then I am totally back in the swing and will be writing chapter ten very soon. Just to let you know that I haven't forgotten about it, and am determined to get it done eventually.

So off we go, and, at the risk of sounding like one of those annoying review demanders, it'd be lush to get a few lovely constructive comments to help me improve. Cheers, hope you all like it!

Donna xxx

PS This is the first character I've ever created from scratch, so I hope she turned out okay!

Chapter One - The Brightest Move

"Okay, everyone." Sam said, entering the office to see Ray, Chris and the Guv having a celebratory drink, "I want you lot to know that today, I was proud to be a part of this team. And this team's about to grow."

"I 'ave noticed you putting a bit on recently, Tyler." Ray sniggered, "Been letting yourself g-"

"And by that," Sam cut him off mid sentence, feigning annoyance. But in truth, he wasn't letting anything dampen his spirits after the case they'd just solved, "I mean I've got us our new DC. I've been hunting around a bit, and finally found the perfect person. Just got off the phone with Newcastle CID, and they've agreed to a transfer."

Gene raised his eyebrows, "Blimey, Tyler! You 'ave been doin' your homework. Come on then, what's this lad's name? 'E be up for a session in the Railway, or have you picked another fairy boy like you who'll pass out after two pints?"

"DC Atkinson," Sam cleared his throat, "Will be arriving on Monday. And about the drinking, Guv, you'll just have to ask her yourself."

At this, as predicted, Chris spat a large mouthful of whiskey onto the floor and Ray's mouth dropped open. And, even more predictably, DCI Hunt merely started shouting.

"A skirt?"he yelled, "You've gone to the bother of ringin' up Newcastle for some bloody plonk? Christ, Tyler, you're more off it than I'd imagined."

It took a while, but after a good half an hour more of arguing, broken glasses and name calling, the rest of the team finally agreed to it. Chris was fine as soon as Sam assured him that the new DC would probably wear a skirt most days; Ray just needed reminding that she would be ranked lower than him so he would have someone to boss around other than Chris, and Gene simply needed telling that every other CID in the country had at least one female employee, and he didn't really want the London department to see them as old fashioned, did he?

"Mam, it's Manchester for Christ's sake, not bloomin' Chicago!" Eve reminded her for the umpteenth time, "I promise you I'll be safe. You treat me like I'm a little girl, but I have been in this business for nearly fifteen years now."

She rolled her eyes at Diana, holding the phone a few inches away from her ear as their mother continued to natter away. Her sister stifled a laugh at Eve's bored replies:

"Yes, Mam. No, Mam. Yes, I promise I'll wear the stab vest in Manchester, Mam. Yes, I'll keep my phone on. Yes, I'll ring you as soon as I get to the new place. I love you too. No, that's not me using a tone with you. Okay, love you. Byyyye!"

Sliding the phone shut immediately, Eve flopped down in a seat opposite her sister, "Thirty three years old I am, and our lovely Mother just reminded me not to talk to strangers whilst working as a Detective Constable in greater Manchester. A bloody Detective, solvin' murders and all sorts, and I'm s'posed to worry about stranger danger!"

She let out a laugh, but looked surprised to see Diana with a completely straight face, staring at her over the table, her expression impossible to read.

"What?" Eve asked uneasily, "What's the matter?"

Her sister shook her head slightly, "Evie, why're you going to Manchester?"

"I... You know why." she said, her face falling, "I mean, alright, it's not a promotion, but the money's quite a bit better. Plus they requested me 'specially, which means I can obviously do a good job there..."

Her voice faded out, the weak excuses only sounding weaker by the second.

Eve sighed, and was silent for a moment, before she looked up at Diana, biting her lip.

"I've got to do something, Di." she said quietly, "I need to have some sort of adventure, just anything that isn't sitting in that office all day. I know it's only Manchester, but to me that's like another planet! Everything'll be new and exciting, and I haven't felt like that in so long and I just..."

She stopped for breath, wondering how to get across what she meant without sounding like a bumbling idiot.

Eve sighed, "Have you ever felt like you just need to do something? Like it's the most important thing in the world, but you can't quite tell why?"

She looked up at her sister, who was silent for a few moments - before a smile broke out on her face, her eyebrows raised.

"No!" she said disbelievingly, "I've got to say, babes, you sound absolutely insane."

Eve nodded slowly, giving up trying to get her point across.

Diana stood up, "Well then gorgeous, this is it! My baby sister, off to the underworld!" She said dramatically, kissing Eve on the cheek, hoisting her bag up onto her shoulder and turning to leave, but just as she reached the door of the flat she looked around, "You never know," She added, a mischievous grin on her face, "Could be some right talent in Manchester, and I've always said a fit bloke with a bit o' cash is all a girl needs in life."

"That all you think about?" Eve laughed, "Men and money?"

"Oh, proud of it." her sister replied seriously, "Give us a call then, yeah?"

"Promise." Eve replied, and then Diana was gone in a blur of turquoise jacket and expensive perfume. She took a deep breath, and after waving her sister off, turned to survey the now empty flat. This was it - her fresh start, her new life.

She looked herself up and down in the mirror, having spent hours choosing the outfit she'd be wearing upon her arrival in Manchester. Not in uniform, but smart casual: a slim-fitting pair of black boot cut jeans with a smart purple ruffled blouse, belted around the waist. Her golden-blonde hair was piled on top of her head in a deliberately messy way, and she wore just enough makeup to be sophisticated rather than looking like a tart.

Yes, she had probably made too much effort, she knew - but everyone had always said she thought far too much about things, which was probably why she made such a good detective.

Eve checked items off a mental list in her head: she had her mobile, purse, badge, makeup and hairbrush in her bag, the details of her new address, station and department written down on a piece of paper. All of her furniture and clothing had been sent ahead to her new flat - there was nothing else she needed to do except leave her key on the kitchen table, check every room one last time and leave the place that had been her home for the last four years.

Sliding into the front seat of her brand new Mini Cooper, Eve took a deep breath. This was it - she was finally seizing the day and starting afresh, something new and exciting all by herself. And with one final glance back up to her empty balcony, she turned on the ignition and drove away.

Having only recently passed her test, she was still a relatively nervous driver - she had never felt the need to learn before, living in an area with such good public transport. But she had figured she'd better get her license if she planned to live in a new city and be a valuable member of their team. Driving around town she could just about cope with now, but having her first experience of a major motorway be the journey from Newcastle to Manchester, alone, probably wasn't the brightest move.

Three times she had to brake suddenly at junctions and roundabouts as other drivers went over the speed limit, feeling way out of her depths in her tiny car. But after two and a half hours of managing to avoid certain death, she was beginning to feel slightly more confident... or was that relieved that the journey would be over so very soon?

There were just two more roundabouts left, she discerned from the map, and then she would come off at the next junction and enter the city centre. Simple, Eve decided as the current track on her iPod drew to a close. On shuffle, it selected another random song: Waterloo, the ABBA classic from the long gone seventies and one of her favorite songs of all time.

My my, at Waterloo, Napoleon did surrender,

She grinned, smoothly indicating and coming off at the second junction of the first roundabout.

Oh yeah, and I have met my destiny in quite a similar way.
The history book on the shelf,

Here was the second roundabout, and this time it was the first exit she needed... fantastic. Had she really found this difficult earlier, she wondered as she picked up speed, wanting more than anything to get out of the car and stretch her legs.

Is always repeating itself.
Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war,

Oh, but hang on. A cold chill crept over Eve as she spotted a signpost up ahead, indicating another roundabout 50 feet ahead of her. She must have overlooked that on the map, and had absolutely no idea which exit she needed.

Waterloo, Promise to love you for ever more,

Panicking, and unable to slow down due to the mass of cars on all sides of her traveling what now seemed incredibly fast, Eve reached her left hand over to the passenger seat - only to find that her map had slipped down onto the floor out of reach.

Waterloo, couldn't escape if I wanted t- couldn't escape if I wanted t- couldn't escape if I wanted t- couldn't escape if I wanted t-

Oh god. Now the music was jumping, all she could hear, and that roundabout was drawing ever nearer and looking ever more dangerous.

Couldn't escape if I wanted t- couldn't escape if I wanted t- After a few frantic attempts at switching off the iPod to no avail, she was there, absolutely no idea how to handle this. Eve was a forward planner, always had been, and could always be relied on to be painstakingly organized and deductive in most situations. But one thing she had never, ever been able to deal with was a crisis.

When under pressure, she felt sick, couldn't think straight. And so when she reached the roundabout she did the first thing that came into her head, and slammed on the brakes. There was an uproar around her, and the sounds of horns beeping furiously, angry drivers shouting and countless brakes squeaking mixed with the ever constant and all too appropriate Couldn't escape if I wanted t- couldn't escape if I wanted t-, to form one huge, unbearable roar in her head.

"GO!" She could vaguely hear voices screaming at her, "GO!" And so, as always when under pressure, Eve mindlessly followed instructions: she took off the brakes, driving at a painfully slow pace over the threshold and onto the roundabout.

But, of course, there were still at least twenty cars hurtling around it at breakneck speed, not being held up by an inexperienced driver like the rest of the motorway. Of course they had no time to spot the Mini Cooper, pulling out with no concern for timing whatsoever. It had to happen sooner or later...

It happened sooner, of course. There were just three seconds where the horns and the shouting and the engine and the ABBA were absolutely all Eve could hear... and then there was an almighty CRASH!

And instantaneously, they were silenced. The darkness hit her like a brick wall, and then DC Eve Atkinson could neither see, hear nor feel anything at all.