"Rose!"
The hand slammed down on the table, causing Rose to be startled out of her reverie. She seemed to be daydreaming a lot these days. Maybe because her imagination was a better place to be than her reality.
"Hmm?" she asked her mum.
She was over at the mansion for her compulsory Saturday afternoon visit. Dad had taken little Tony out for a stroll and she had been given the duty of checking that her mum was cooking something edible for lunch.
"This has got to stop, sweetheart," she said, looking at her daughter worriedly, "All this moping about—you're letting your life pass you by."
Rose had heard it all before. She sighed, preparing herself to recite the speech yet again, "I'm fine, Mum. I'm—coping. I just need some more time, is all."
"More time?" Jackie said incredulously, "Rose, it's been eight months! There comes a point when you have to move on."
Rose stared down at the kitchen table, feeling the tears in her eyes threatening to spill. As always, she pushed them down. She'd been crying far too much this past year. She looked up at her mother with hardened eyes.
"It's not that easy," she said quietly.
"I know it isn't," Jackie told her, "But that doesn't change the fact that you should. He's gone, sweetheart. He's not coming back this time."
Rose hated it when anyone talked about him. Luckily, people usually tiptoed around the subject when they spoke to her. Dad and Mickey never even mentioned it, but Mum was different. She chose moments like these, moments where she felt that she had Rose trapped, and then she would confront her about it. She would mercilessly state what the cold, hard truth was, and Rose didn't want to hear it.
She felt something inside of her snap.
"You're one to talk!" Rose exploded. She abruptly realised that she was on her feet. The tears were no longer just threatening to spill, "When Dad died, you never moved on! You stayed in that flat for nineteen years! You didn't even try to find anyone else, because you knew that no relationship could ever measure up to what you had with him!" She paused to take a breath and steady herself, "Don't tell me to just forget about him," she said coldly, "because you know full well that I can't."
Then she bounded out of the room, leaving a dazed Jackie staring after her.
"Well, at least she's showing some emotion," she muttered before returning to the stove.
…
That day had gotten Jackie thinking on a way to help her daughter
Finally, she decided that it would be her mission to get Rose a man. She would be damned if her daughter ended up alone like her when she was older (though, of course, things had turned out fine in the end).
Things with Mickey quite obviously weren't falling back into place as Jackie might have hoped, but a small part of her always knew that this was less owing to the Doctor and more to the fact that Rose just preferred him as a friend. Poor bloke.
But Jackie wouldn't give up. She was determined to show Rose that there were plenty of handsome, clever fish in the sea. Fish who weren't immortal aliens.
That Saturday afternoon, two weeks after the confrontation, Jackie knew that she was going to get it from her daughter. She didn't care, though. She was Rose's mother and she always knew best.
"Mum?" Rose called into the empty foyer. She frowned; the whole family was usually there to greet her when she came to visit. She wondered whether her parents had taken Tony out for his stroll early.
"In here, dear!" a voice called from the living room.
It wasn't Mum's voice.
Even more curious, Rose moved to the spacious living area. When she entered, it was to find Mum and six of her closest friends (or, as Rose liked to call them, her "Posh Posse") enjoying some tea and biscuits while chattering away happily.
"Oh, darling, that shirt is to die for!" Ruth, Posh Posse ringleader, complemented her.
"Oh, umm, thanks," Rose said with a slightly forced smile. She looked at Jackie confusedly, "Mum, since when do you have tea with the girls on a Saturday?"
"I called them and told them that it was an emergency," Jackie said matter-of-factly. The other women all nodded along and made noises of affirmation. All of them were eyeing Rose worriedly. Something was definitely going on.
Rose got an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. "What emergency?"
Esmerelda, famous socialite and highly-publicised philanthropist, gave her a sympathetic look. "Your mother told us everything, dear. We always thought there was something a little—well, off about you, but when Jackie told us about the whole business with you and your boyfriend, we were all so taken aback."
"Older men always cause trouble," April, three-time Miss Britain and full-time trophy wife, nodded with understanding.
Rose was trying very hard not to strangle someone. "Mum," she said in a strained voice, "Can I talk to you alone for a minute?"
"Of course," Jackie said, feigning innocence in a way only she could. She put her teacup down neatly on the little marble table beside the couch, "If you'll excuse me, ladies."
Rose towed her mother by the hand to a spot where she was sure she was out of earshot from the other gossip-girls. "What did you tell them?!" she whispered furiously, "No, hold on, wrong question— Why did you tell them anything to begin with?!"
"Now, don't get your knickers in a twist!" Jackie told her, "I didn't tell them anything I shouldn't have. I just mentioned that you've been depressed over this older bloke for months now and that I was worried about you, seeing as you get so overly attached to people sometimes."
"Overly attached?!" Rose had to work very hard to keep her voice from shooting up three octaves in pitch, "I just got deferred to another universe and had to leave everything I knew, including the man I love, behind. I've been doing a bloody good job at having to start up my whole life from scratch, and now you're calling me out for being overly attached?!" All attempts at keeping her voice down were failing.
"Oh, don't be so melodramatic!" Jackie shouted right back.
Ruth popped her head out from the doorway leading to the living room. "Everything alright in here?" she asked, her eyes growing interested at the thought of juicy gossip.
Jackie smiled at her reassuringly. "Everything's wonderful," she said, showcasing her newly whitened teeth, "I've just been telling Rose here about the blind-date that you were kind enough to set up for her."
Rose stared at her mother in horror. "What?" was all she could manage.
"Yeah," Jackie said with another pleasant smile, "I can't tell you how excited Rose is to be meeting up with your son," she walked over to where Ruth stood and nudged her against the shoulder, "Just imagine what a laugh it would be if we ended up being fellow parents-in-law!"
Ruth laughed in that posh-fake way, clapping her hands together in delight. "Oh, marvellous!" she exclaimed, "Hunter will be so pleased that you agreed! He's had quite an eye for you ever since you arrived, you know."
"Oh, is that so?" Jackie replied before Rose could protest, "Did you hear that, Rose? Well, I'll tell you he's definitely Rose's type, what with him being such an educated man and all. Did you know that Hunter graduated from Cambridge, Rose? Top of his class, too!"
Rose was shaking her head, trying desperately to find a way out of the terrible situation her mother had put her in, but it seemed that there was no escape. Jackie was already arranging a time and a place.
"How about tonight?" she pressed.
She knew that Rose didn't work on the weekends and that giving her as short notice as possible to come up with an excuse for not going was the way to go. Rose had gotten very good at fast thinking ever since travelling with the Doctor, after all.
"Alright, if it isn't too short noti—" Ruth started.
"It isn't," Jackie spoke over her, "She'll meet him at seven!"
…
And seven came.
"Now, you two can stay out as late as you want!" Jackie told her as she drove her to the fancy restaurant where she would be meeting Hunter. Rose contemplated opening the car door and jumping out to make her escape. The people in the movies usually seemed to survive when they did that…
The car stopped and Rose tried to reason with her mother one last time. "Mum—"
"No, none of that!" her mum hushed her, "I want you to be open to this new experience tonight. I want you to go out and actually enjoy yourself. Could you just do that for me, please?"
Rose looked at her mother. She knew that everything that she was doing was out of love. Her mum just hated seeing her unhappy so much. She thought that she was doing good, and maybe she was. Maybe it really was time that Rose moved on.
"I'll try," Rose told her earnestly, "I promise."
Jackie smiled and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. "I know you will."
She drove off, leaving Rose alone, staring at the fancy restaurant and armed only with her small clutch bag. "Well," she muttered to herself, "Let's do this."
She walked in and spotted him immediately. It was hard not to, what with half of the restaurant-goers staring at him. Of course, Rose knew his face. It had been on the cover of just about every magazine she came across these past few months.
Hunter Remington, the headings would read, heir to an empire.
The empire that the articles were referring to was Remington Incorporated, the media corporation that had taken the world by storm after Cybus Industries' shocking downfall. The media loved Hunter for his status as being both devilishly handsome and, apparently, having a heart of gold.
When he spotted her by the door, Hunter smiled brightly. He was quite handsome, it was true. He had dark hair, green eyes and a slightly olive-toned pallor. It was appealing, but it wasn't as though he was a skinny, coat-wearing genius with really, really great hair.
Rose shook her head; she had to be open to this new experience. She'd promised Mum that she would be.
"Ah, Miss Rose Tyler," Hunter said charmingly, "You look absolutely ravishing."
She allowed him to take her coat for her, giving him what she hoped was an eager smile. "Not looking too bad yourself," she replied wryly.
They went over to their table and he pulled out her chair for her. Rose was a little impressed by this; none of the men that had been in her life thus far had been particularly gentlemanly. The Doctor had tried to be on occasion, but etiquette usually flew out the window when one was running for one's life.
The entire evening through, Hunter was perfectly friendly and charming. By the end of the first hour of their date, Rose understood why the magazines were making such a fuss about him; on top of being the future CEO of a major corporation, he was also actually a really nice guy.
Rose enjoyed speaking to him. They talked about a lot of unimportant things: Vacation spots, hobbies, favourite foods, favourite colours—they never delved into any form of deeper conversation. He never asked her about her past or about how she was feeling, and Rose appreciated that. It had been a long time since she had simply just had a nice chat.
When she looked at her watch, it was already ten o' clock. They'd been talking for three hours!
With a bout of shock, Rose realised something else. She hadn't thought of the Doctor once in the three hours that she had spoken with Hunter.
Suddenly, Rose was excusing herself from the table and rushing to the nearest ladies' room. She reached the bathroom and found it completely empty. She rushed in and started splashing her face with water. When she looked at her reflection in the mirror, there were tears in her eyes.
She'd forgotten about him. For just those three short hours, she'd completely forgotten to be miserable about not being with him. She was horrified with herself, feeling the guilt roll over her body in waves. Was that all it took? Just another pretty face and then everything was fine again?
She couldn't believe that she could have done such a thing.
She pulled out her new, high-tech cell phone and punched in the number of the only person who would be dependable in a situation like this. "Mickey," she said when he picked up, "I need you to come get me."
"Rose?" he could hear the distress in her voice, "Why? What's the matter?"
"Just—please."
She felt bad for having to excuse herself with Hunter. She told him that she was feeling ill, which wasn't entirely a lie. True to form, Hunter excused her graciously, even offering to drive her home himself. She told him that she already had a ride and then agreed half-heartedly to Hunter's plans for them to meet up for another date, knowing that she wouldn't really be able to deal with a similar situation again.
When Mickey rolled up, he was looking at her concernedly. "You alright?" he asked her as she got into the car.
Rose didn't answer. She leaned her head against the passenger-seat window as Mickey pulled away, looking out into the darkness of the night.
"I don't know what to do, Mickey," she finally said.
Mickey looked at her briefly, noticing how her eyes had closed and how troubled her expression was, before returning his gaze to the road. "How do you mean?" he asked her softly.
"It's like—" Rose paused, trying to think of an accurate description, "It's like, before I met the Doctor, I was relatively happy with my life. I went to work, spent time with you lot and went back home every day, and it was good. I hadn't thought there was anything wrong with me before, and there wasn't, but when I travelled with him I became better. I was fulfilled," she sighed, and blinked back any emotion that betrayed how broken she felt inside, "When he—left me, I didn't turn back into that old Rose Tyler, the pre-Doctor Rose. He left me as someone who'd felt what it was like to truly be happy, just to have that feeling taken away."
As Mickey drove, the flashing lights running across Rose's face revealed the sparkling tears in her eyes. "And it was too soon," she said quietly.
The car stopped in front of Rose's apartment building. Mickey turned to look at her. "I should probably tell you that you ought to move on," he said, "That you should forget about him and try to be with someone else. Hell, a year ago I would've told you that you should be with me," Mickey shook his head and gave a small smile, "but I'm not going to tell you to do that."
Rose frowned. She didn't know what Mickey was getting at. "Why?" she asked.
Instead of answering, Mickey pulled a small object from his pocket, holding it up for Rose to see. She looked at it quizzically. "Is that my old phone?"
"It is," Mickey grinned, "the Doctor gave it to me to help take down Cybus Industries."
He got out of the car and moved around to Rose's side. There, he opened her door for her. She got out of the car, still confused, and Mickey handed her the phone.
"Dial 100," he told her.
Without another word, Mickey got back in his car and drove away. Rose stared at the car until it became invisible in the distance. She looked down at the old phone in her hand curiously.
Once inside her small studio-apartment (with just enough room for the bare necessities), Rose went to sit by the miniscule dining table. She hesitated for only a moment before dialling the 100 number that Mickey had told her to dial.
She waited for two seconds, only to get an automated answer from the other side of the line. "You have 25 new voice messages," it told her.
"Blimey," she breathed, "I forgot about those." Heart pounding, she pressed 1 to listen to the first voice message.
"Rose, it's me," a Northern accent spoke, "Just calling to tell you to hurry up. I want to get going. Tell Jackie to shut up and let you leave, already."
The message ended with a beep. Rose only had a moment of stunned awe at getting to hear that voice again before hitting the button to play the second message as fast as was humanly possible.
"Rose," the irritated Northern accent said, "It's been an hour!"
Rose smiled as the beep signalled the end of the message once again. He was such an impatient person. Especially in that form. These messages must have been during the period of time in which he stayed in the TARDIS while she visited her mum. After a while, though, he had learned that he could better hurry her along when he came up to the flat with her.
She listened to a few more messages of the leather-clad Doctor that she had met first. Most of them consisted of him nagging her to come back to the TARDIS after visiting the Powell Estate or enquiring where she had wandered off to this time. Then, around message twelve, the voice changed. This voice had an estuary-English accent and spoke at about ninety miles per hour.
"Rose," the first message said, "I need you to come back to the TARDIS. I'm in a bit of a—situation."
Rose chuckled to herself when she heard the message. That had been the day the Doctor had gotten himself so tangled in the wires beneath the console room that he had to be physically cut out of the framework. By her, naturally.
Rose stopped laughing and became silent. That had been her first real laugh in eight months.
She continued to listen to the wonderful messages. They had all been so mundane at the time, but now they were all she had left of him. She was so happy to be able to hear his voice again after all these months, to be reminded of all the wonderful memories she had had with him.
Finally, she came to message number twenty-five. The message was dated later than the others. Much later. It was dated to have been received after that horrible day of their farewell at Bad Wolf bay.
"Rose," she heard him say. His voice was heavier than in the other messages. He sounded older, "I don't know if you'll ever get this message. I hope you do—well, more than hope, actually. I knew that Mickey still had your old phone and I—I had to try something. So, right," he cleared his throat, "I miss you every day. The TARDIS isn't the same without you. I was side-tracked for a bit right after you left, but since then I've been alone. It's been a few months relative time, I think, and it's been absolutely miserable. I wish I could talk to you. Just once. Just to tell you how much I—"
He went silent. The quiet on the other side of the line stretched on for so long that Rose pulled the phone from her ear at one point to check if the message was still playing.
Finally, though, he spoke again. "I'm going to get you back, Rose," he said, determination colouring his voice, "If it's the last thing I do, I'll find you. I won't give up."
The beep signalling the end of the message sounded.
Rose lifted the phone slowly from her ear and stared at it. For the first time in what felt like forever, some new emotion was cropping up inside of her.
Hope.
"Not if I find you first," she said quietly.