DISCLAIMER: THIS STORY IS HEREBY DECLARED A "FANFICTION." AS SUCH, I HAVE NO RIGHTS TO DOCTOR WHO, THE SEVERAL MEDIA REFERENCES MADE FORTHWITH, ETC., AND INSTEAD STATE THEY ARE COPYRIGHT TO THE DOCTOR WHO FRANCHISE, RUSSEL T. DAVIES, STEVEN MOFFAT, ALL OF THE DOCTOR WHO WRITING STAFF, (MARK GATISS, WRITER OF THE IDIOT'S LANTERN, YOU ROCK), AND ALL OTHER SUBSIDIES RESPECTFULLY.
Author's Nook: Okay, so, this fan fic is respectfully dedicated to my best friend, Neum, my "Clone" and best friend who first introduced me to, (and consequentially, hooked), Doctor Who, Doctors Nine and Ten respectfully. As such, the Doctor/Rose pairing is my favorite, with Donna for the win as super cool companion (Rose is great, but Donna is, well, DONNA!)
And here's where I explain my idea/hopes for the story/reasoning/warning of what to expect:
Having seen all seasons (still catching up with five and six, but what can you do), I have to say, the last episodes of season four were not my cup of tea, (kudos if you can guess why), and, after seeing Rose develop as a character, in addition to this:
Steven admitted that he admired the Doctor for ditching Rose, saying: "You have to hand it to the Doctor for dumping a slightly needy girlfriend by palming her off on a copy of himself…He tried leaving her in a parallel universe and that didn't work!
I went back, and asked myself, "Was Rose clingy?"
In season one, no, in season two, a little…but really, I felt Moffat's comment was a little unwarranted.
She'd almost lost the guy she was in love with/her best friend to a phenomenon she didn't understand; I think that gives her the right to be worried, don't you?
I was relieved when it seemed to disappear after the GITF episode a touch, but in the end, it was painful to admit that Rose was rather clingy in Stolen Earth and Journey's End. That, and it seemed as if she was just an afterthought in the midst of completing the Doctor-Donna story arc. It was quite disheartening and odd (very out of character for Russel T. Davies, who wrote those episodes and created the entire pairing/made it cannon from season one).
(Others might agree or disagree with Monsieur Moffat, but when you think about Moffat's love of the "bad girl" stereotype, (ex: Reinette and Amy, whose characters HE DESIGNED), what does that say about him?)
ANYway…having said that, this fic is similar to what those of you who also watch Tosh.O would call "web redemption" for one Rose Marion Tyler; go get your female defiance and feisty-ness back, missy!
As such, I am stating here and now that this is AU…but not in the way you think! ^_~
Having given you this warning, I hope you enjoy this fic, my first foray into this category.
Sincerely,
QW
p.s: please read and review!
Chapter One
"Stranger Than You Dreamt It"
Yawning grumpily as she hoisted her disheveled self out of her super comfy couch, the groggy young woman fumbled for her shrilling phone. Wincing as the glare of the orange numbers on her microwave caught her bleary hazel eyes, she sniffed in disgust when she saw the time: 3:52 AM.
"Hello?" she breathed out in a tired sigh, her voice serious and monotone from her tired state.
"Mmhmm, hey Mickey, how are you?" she said in a slightly more enthusiastic tone, her tired eyes crinkling in a small smile. "Uh-huh, yeah…mmhmm." Nodding as she slumped against the counter, vaguely listening to his soft timbre as he explained something excitedly. "Wait, wait, slow down. Which species did they claim to be? Sounds about right, yeah. Hold on."
Jumping up with the cordless handset, she tiredly rattled off a few facts from what she could remember as well as several amendments to the Shadow Proclamation. Fumbling for the pad mounted on the wall by her phone, she scribbled down a few things as Mickey continued talking. After a little more conversation, she wished him goodnight, and after hanging up, the young field agent leaned over the phone, her medium length dishwater blonde hair falling out of her sloppy bun and into her eyes as she leaned her head against the cheerful yellow walls of her kitchen.
"Well, hell," she said to no one, "Just what I need."
Lifting her head up gently to bang it lightly against the wall, she shifted slowly to the couch again, flopping down carelessly as she haphazardly pulled the nice blanket over her vest and sweats. "Crap," said the scratchy voice muffled by a fluffy red pillow.
Mumbling as she fell asleep, she bemoaned the seeming twist of fate.
"Bloody hell, Mickey Smith! Today was supposed to be the start of my vacation!"
No one should be up so abominably early, but, well, that's life in Pete's World for ya.
Confused? Let me clarify:
My name is Rose Tyler, and one day when I was 19 years old, I met a mad man with a blue box, a beautiful spaceship called the TARDIS, that could go anywhere through time and space. When I asked, he said he was called the Doctor. No other name, just, "The Doctor."
We had an amazing time together! He was the first of my friends to believe that I could be more than what I was, that I was meant for better things than what I had accepted life had given me after being shot down multitudes of times. Life in a council estate isn't the easiest, even if you're trying hard to get out.
It seemed inevitable that after a while I would fall in love with him, but he never showed any signs that he was remotely interested—I had never hoped there might be something more until a fateful encounter with Glen Miller, gas-mask zombies, and one Captain Jack Harkness. Things didn't exactly progress into the Disney version of romance, but…there was something…a spark, perhaps.
Nothing could come between us: not an entire fleet of Daleks, not Bad Wolf, not regeneration, not 18th century courtesans, and certainly not parallel universes.
Or so we thought…I had thought.
Two and a half years into our journey together, two old enemies of ours—Cybermen and Daleks—came through the Void between worlds. Long story short, I tried to stay behind for him, and wound up nearly getting sucked into Time Lord hell.
But at the very last second, an alternate version of my dad I had met on a parallel world came back and caught me, saving me, but leaving me separated from the one man and the life I had loved best.
He tried to reach me; what we got was a two-minute half-completed statement of what I would like to think was a declaration of romantic love.
That was eight years ago; now I'm a junior field agent at Torchwood London under my best mate Mickey Smith. He's been here slightly longer than me, but I think if Pete has anything to say about it, I'll get my own team soon.
I've nothing to complain about, truly; I have a better paying job, I live in a fantastic apartment, and I have friends in and out of Torchwood. My family is whole and growing; I've two siblings now, Tony and Iris, and I couldn't be happier…
It's not the life I wanted…life with the Doctor, that is.
But—to echo something he once asked of me—it's going to be fantastic.
It has to be.
Sipping the hot coffee she'd picked up at the local Mermaids Coffee shop on her way to work, Junior Agent Rose Tyler smiled at the front receptionists as she placed her palm on the sign in pad and had her fingerprints analyzed.
"Morning, miss," one of the younger girls chirruped as the celebrity daughter of Pete Tyler greeted her in kind.
"Mornin' Maria! Have a great day!" Rose called back as she stepped into the elevator. "It's a Floor 500 day, I can just tell," she murmured into her cup, foot absently tapping in the silence of the elevator as it sped to the fifty-first floor.
Sighing, she greeted her coworkers as she exited and headed over to her team's office down the hall, who had been affectionately christened "Team Spock" by Mickey, (ever the avid Star Trek fan, even if it didn't exist in this universe. Instead, Star Wars, a major television franchise here and not a series of films, was the conquering sci fi mogul).
"Mornin' everyone!" she smiled affectionately as she saw a few of her cohorts had already arrived and made themselves comfy.
"Morning Rosie," Diana Goddard, the transfer from their American sister unit MIB smiled at her from over her laptop as she finished up a report. At the young age of twenty, she had been recruited right out of college after turning in the famous billionaire and alien hunter Van Statten. Rose and Mickey had laughed hysterically when they found out the Men In Black organization existed for real in this universe. Having remembered Diana from her old universe, Rose had smiled approvingly when she'd been transferred in, and the two had been fast friends for the past three years.
"S' too early for a good morning," Owen Harper grumbled from the plush couch as he flourished his newspaper to hide the circles under his eyes.
"Late night, Owen?" Rose smirked as she jokingly kicked his ankle and he scooted aside. Basking in the warmth of the sun granted by the eastward floor to ceiling windows the couch was up against, Rose bent over to read over his shoulder, much to Owen's consternation. "Very late night, Tyler," he smirked, nudging her back, "which you'd get to experience yourself if you ever bother to take me up on my offer."
"Oh, but she wouldn't," Jake announced dramatically from the doorway, bounding in to sit on Rose's lap. "She knows all your affection belongs to me darling, and she'd never be so heartless or cruel."
"You're not my type, Simmonds, and what would Ianto say?"
"That you've all got your minds in the gutter and Diana is far superior company," the man in question mocked as he set down the cardboard coffee holder on her desk.
"A man after my own heart," Diana laughed, kissing him affectionately on the cheek, "you lot could use him as a template for superior male behavior and grooming you know," the petite blonde smirked with an eyebrow wiggle, "after all, and Rose will probably agree with me, men look best in uniform!" Smacking Ianto on the ass as she sang out the last part of her lecture, Diana raised her cup in salute to Rose's own and both ladies smiled knowingly.
"Oy, enough with the office fraternization and theatrics," Mickey, their team leader, mock scowled as he strode in purposefully. He'd changed a lot over the last nine years, Rose reflected affectionately as they smiled at each other in greeting.
After staying behind in the parallel universe now known to Rose and Mickey as "Pete's World", Mickey Smith had found a purpose. Much like Rose, he too had been taken with the misconception that growing up on a council estate with a deceased Mum and absentee Dad meant he had to fill a particular mold. Having his girl "stolen", (a word he continues to use, much to Rose's consternation), by an adventuring extraterrestrial whose temperament ran hot and cold between nonchalance and green-eyed jealousy had awakened the challenger in Mickey.
No longer did he cower in the shadows; no longer was he a tin dog. Instead, the rather muscular young man was one of the top field agents at Torchwood, and very popular with the ladies…or, rather, Diana in particular. Rose and Jake had done nothing short of throw a party when they'd found out the two of them had started dating. Owen had merely thanked God that the sexual tension had been removed for fear he'd spontaneously combust.
"Right," Mickey stated, passing out a few folders to everyone but Diana in their team, "so, two things. Di?"
Diana smiled excitedly, moving over to Mickey's side and pecking him on the cheek. "Mickey and I have some news…I'm being moved to desk duty and will be taking extended leave in a few months."
"What? But you're one of our best on scene forensics officers!" Owen protested, folding up his newspaper. "Best partner I've ever had since Tosh transferred to Cardiff."
"I know," Diana smiled regretfully, "but with my condition—"
"YOU DIDN'T!" Jake and Rose squealed, jumping up to offer both Mickey and Diana hugs, "how far along are you?" Rose demanded, making the pair smiled goofily.
"Two months, or so my doctor says," Diana said, gently touching the almost unnoticeable baby bump under her business shirt.
"Go Mickey," Jake spoke proudly, clapping his friend on the back even as a twinge of regret spiked through him. Even now, his deceased lover remained on his mind.
"Bloody hell," Owen sighed, standing and congratulating the expecting parents. "So, if you're out, Goddard, who the devil is takin' your place?"
"That's what the folders are for," Mickey continued, "her name's Gwen Cooper, and she's tranferin' from the Cardiff Branch. Some troubles with her ex-husband, or so Tosh told me when I ran a background check. He couldn't take it when he learned she was working at Torchwood and he had to be retconned."
Everyone in the room flinched; managing relationships while working for Torchwood were tricky. If a Torchwood employee was lucky like Donna McAvoy down in accounting, then "outsiders" like her husband Lee would fully accept their line of work. Other cases like Gwen Cooper's never faired so well, and tended to become more cynical after such encounters.
"Right, so no one mention that, got it," Rose murmured as she returned to her seat and picked up her dossier on Gwen. Flipping through it, her eyebrows shot up in surprise when she glanced at her new teammate's photograph. "No way…Gwen, you say? Is her full name Gwenyth, by any chance? From an old Cardiff family?"
"Spot on," a gentle lilt spoke from the doorway, "but how did you guess? I know our agents tend to be gossips, but I'm not sure whether to feel flattered or worried." All five heads turned to face the voice and smiled in greeting.
"Oh, a case of spatial genetic multiplicity, s'all. M' Rose," Rose added, stepping forward and shaking a laughing Gwen's hand.
"Oh? Met my doppelgänger, did you? And what exactly was I up to?"
"She can tell you later, gorgeous," Owen interjected smoothly, covering up for Rose. Having worked with her for nearly as long as Mickey, he knew she preferred to forget about a few of the more sordid details in her past. "Owen Harper, at your service," the doctor smirked, kissing her hand, inwardly perking up at the appearance of such a lovely woman.
After greeting everyone on her new team, Gwen let out the nervous breath she'd been holding in since she'd been sent to join her team after a debrief from Pete Tyler, the Director of field agents at Torchwood. Although she'd heard them discussing her (and she'd have to remember to give Tosh a right dressing down later, passing along sordid tales about her and Rhys), she was heartened to see that it was only because they wanted to get to know her and make her comfortable.
"Right, so, that's our—" Mickey began again, only for an alarm to go off in the main office.
"—cue," he finished as he and the others ran to the armory installed on the far side of the office.
"Be safe," Diana wished them as they sped out of the office, her own feet guiding her toward the comm center so she could play Control for their operation.
"What have we got?" Rose asked briskly as she and the others piled into an inconspicuous dark green SUV.
"This is the second thing Mickey and I wanted to talk to you about and why we called all of you in on your day off. Increased signs of rift activity are originating in eastern Ireland, County Galway. I'm sending the coordinates to your smart phones and a flight has been arranged for you from London to Manchester, where you'll switch over and cross to Ireland," Diana spoke authoritatively as she guided the team from headquarters.
"Got it," Jake confirmed, quickly analyzing the mission dossier with Gwen, Rose, and Owen as Mickey drove them to the docks.
"Just a normal day at Torchwood, eh?" Rose joked with Gwen quietly. Trading tentative smiles, the two of them remained coiled, mentally steeling themselves for what was sure to be an interesting case.