Authors Note: Thanks to Alpha007 for the suggestion and the challenge to write about this real life mystery. It starts with a bit of scene building for later, so stick with it.

Chapter 1

Celebrity

Mall Road.

Hammersmith, London.

2007.

Rose Tyler opened the official looking letter and read it with a sigh of relief. At last, she was divorced from her philandering husband. Her mum had never liked him, telling her that he was a "wrong 'n". Talking of her mum, it was her day off from the salon today and she wanted to go over and have a cup of tea and a catch up.

She put the letter in her shoulder bag and left her small, luxury flat which overlooked the Thames. It was a bit pricey, but worth it for the view and the proximity to her place of work.

'MUM? I'M HERE,' Rose called out as she arrived in the hallway of her parents flat.

'Oh Sweetheart. There you are. How are ya?' Jackie said as she pulled her into a hug.

'I'm fine Mum,' Rose told her as she reached into her bag. 'And, I'm a lot better since I got this.' She held out the official looking envelope.

'Is that it? The decree absolute?'

'Yeah. I'm finally rid of him,' Rose said with a satisfied smile.

'About time too. I bet you're glad you kept your maiden name. Saves havin' to change everythin' back again,' Jackie told her.

'Well, yeah. But that wasn't the real reason. I mean, I wasn't expectin' to get a divorce when I got married.'

'I was,' Jackie retorted.

'Okay Mum. I know you told me so. But the reason I kept my maiden name was because that's the name the public know me by. My manager said it would be easier, and all the celebrities do it.'

'Ooh. Hark at you havin' a manager,' Jackie teased. 'I still can't believe how your life has turned around.'

'I know. I still have to pinch myself sometimes.'

'Sit yerself down an' I'll make the tea.'

Jackie went through to the kitchen, and Rose sat on the sofa which faced the patio door and the balcony. She looked on the low, glass table and saw blueprints and documents. 'How's Dad doin'? Where is he today?'

Jackie came through from the kitchen with two mugs of tea. 'Oh, that's what I was gonna tell ya. He's gone to a meeting with one of the big house buildin' companies. They want to use his new solar roof tiles on all of their new houses,' she said excitedly.

'Oh Mum. That's brilliant!'

'I know. If he gets the contract it'll mean we can buy that house we've had our eye on.'

'I told you I'd help you with that,' Rose reminded her.

'I know Sweetheart. An' me and yer dad were really grateful of the offer, but y'know we like to make our own way in the world. And now it looks like we can.' Jackie handed her daughter a mug of tea.

'That's great Mum. I'm really pleased for ya. And yer salon's doin' well an' all.'

'Yeah, I know. I've got some really talented stylists now and the word's spreadin'. We're really busy . . . Hey, as yer here, shall I put the DVD on,' Jackie asked with an expectant smile.

Rose feigned a groan. 'Oh go on then. If ya must.' She was pretending to be reluctant, but in reality, she enjoyed watching her 2004 Olympic performance. It was the interviews afterwards that made her cringe.

'Here we are then,' Jackie said, pressing the play button on the remote.

['And next up in the floor exercise is our medal hopeful Rose Tyler,'] the commentator started. ['A popular young lady with a cheeky smile and bubbly personality. Let's see if that comes through in her performance.']

['Yes. That's right Michael. She just missed out on a medal in Sydney due to her inexperience. She was only fourteen then. But she's back now and showing bags of confidence. I think we're in for a treat if the preliminaries are anything to go by.']

Jackie and Rose watched as she started to move around the mat like a Gazelle, with a variety of flips, handstands, and rolls. As it came towards the end of her performance she executed a series of back flips across the mat, culminating in a triple somersault before landing perfectly with an enormous smile on her face and spreading her arms out with a flourish. The crowd erupted in applause and cheers.

Jackie clapped her hands together. 'Oh I love that bit!'

Rose gave her a grin. 'Yeah. I did kinda cream it, didn't I?'

They watched the end of the performance as they sipped their teas, and it came to the scores.

['Now, the Romanian Cătălina Ponor scored nine point seven five from all six judges. Rose only needs to get a nine point eight from one of the judges and she's got the gold.']

They watched the scores going up on the display, with Rose on the split screen watching with her coach. Nine point eight from the Swiss judge. They saw Rose jump up and down with delight, hugging her coach. Nine point seven five . . . Nine point seven five . . . And then there was nine point six from the Mexican judge. On the split screen, Rose's face fell. The gold might just have been snatched away from her. Two more nine point seven fives put the nail in the gold medal coffin.

They heard the crowd start booing, and a slow hand clap started to fill the stadium. The split screen went to a single screen of the eighteen year old Rose sobbing her heart out in the arms of her coach.

['Was that judge watching the same performance we were?'] one of the commentators asked.

'No he weren't,' Jackie told the television. Rose smiled at her mother's indignation.

['He couldn't have been,'] the other commentator agreed. [' That was a near flawless performance, and the crowd know it. Listen to them. Of course, it isn't the first time the judging has been controversial at these Olympics.']

['Yes. When the Russian Alexei Nemov was scored low in the horizontal bar, the crowd booed for fifteen minutes.']

'Yer not gonna make me watch the interviews are ya?' Rose asked.

'Oh but they were the best bits Sweetheart. The whole nation was behind ya. They could see what it meant to ya,' Jackie said.

'I know. But my eyes were all puffy and red, and I was so nervous. I kept fiddlin' with my hair all the time.'

'Yeah. But that's what won everyone's hearts.'

Rose remembered how the networks had interviewed her and her coach. They all thought she should have won the gold. Ironically, it was this injustice which changed her life. If she had won the gold, she wouldn't have been approached by a publicist who helped her sell her story. All the tabloids ran the story, and she was invited to appear on the prime time Graham Norton Show.

She really liked Graham, and she came over really well. The council estate girl who gave it her all and was cheated when she was about to achieve her goal. Graham had seen her potential as a television celebrity and advised her to get an agent. Her agent got her more chat show appearances and a regular spot on Question Of Sport. She stormed those appearances, and was offered the job of presenting the show when the existing presenter moved on.

It was at this time that her boyfriend of six months had decided to ask her to marry him. The publicity and the celebrity profile would do his image and career no end of good. And it did, but it didn't stop him from choosing to continuing his affair with Noosh Jansen, the daughter of the band's manager.

Jackie smiled at her daughter. 'It's funny how things turn out dependin' on the choices y'make, innit.'

'And the choices other people make for ya, yeah.'

Curiosity Research Vessel.

Approaching Beta Pegasi II.

196 light years from Earth.

'Mayday! Mayday! This is Captain Raffaela Ottean of the research vessel Curiosity,' the woman called into the communications panel.

['Roger that Captain. This is Convex Twenty Two traffic control. What is the nature of your emergency?'] a calm voice replied.

'We have had a catastrophic failure of our power system. We've managed to steer towards a level one habitable planet. We are abandoning ship. Repeat. We are abandoning ship.'

['Understood Captain. You are abandoning ship. I am initiating the emergency rescue protocol. Please make sure your emergency beacon is active. I can confirm that there are three vessels within fifty light years of your location.']

'Thank you control. We await rescue. Over and out.'

Raffaela shut down the panel and looked around the bridge. All five crew members were rushing around gathering emergency equipment and supplies to take to the escape pod.

'Come on. You'll have to leave the rest, we're already skimming the atmosphere.'

They ran down the passageway to the airlock and climbed into the compact pod, each person strapping themselves in and locking their helmets in place. Raffaela pulled the door lock lever, and it slid seamlessly into place.

The control panel came to life, and the pilot grabbed the joystick. 'All systems online. Ready to jettison on my mark. In three . . . two . . . one. Release!'

Raffaela pulled a handle towards her and all their stomachs went into their mouths as pod went into free fall.

'Yeeehaaa!' the pilot exclaimed as he fought to keep the pod on a controlled descent vector. 'There's a forest down there. I'm going to try and skim the canopy to soften the landing.'

'Do it,' Raffaela commanded. It started to get bumpy as they hit turbulence, and it soon became a roller-coaster ride. Cracking, zinging noises could be heard from the hull as the pod hit the forest canopy and skidded to a halt.

'Everyone okay?' Raffaela asked. Each crew member signed off, and when she was happy that everyone was uninjured, she popped the hatch.

The tear-drop hatch slid down and a number of branches and vines sprung inwards. Raffaela removed her helmet and unfastened her seat harness, before climbing out of her seat and bending the branches out of the pod. She froze when she saw a pair of natives watching her with interest.

'Oh. Hello . . . Don't-be-afraid,' she said slowly. 'We-are-travellers-from . . .' Probably best not to tell them from the stars. 'A-long-way-away. This-is-our-ship, sort-of.' She was trying to use gestures to give meaning to her words.

The natives looked at each other and frowned, before grinning and looking back in her direction. "Oh dear, This is worse than I thought," she thought to herself. "The natives are idiots!"

The Bell Public House.

Hillgrove Street.

Stokes Croft, Bristol.

It was nine o'clock in the evening, and The Bell Public House was jumping to the music of the live band. The Bell was a bustling city centre pub, hidden away just off the main strip. Stokes Croft had developed into a self-named Cultural Quarter that supported street art and all things made locally. Consequently, a lot of the customers were artist, street artist, and musicians.

'Excuse me,' a young woman asked hesitantly. 'Are you "Legs" from the Torchwood programme?'

Amy Williams looked up and gave an embarrassed smile. 'Er, yeah. That's me.' Amy and her husband Rory had been invited on a long weekend to Bristol by their old friends, Paul and Stephanie.

'I knew it. I said to Sean it was you. Sean's my boyfriend,' the young lady told her excitedly. Amy looked past her to see a young man sitting at one of the traditional wooden tables, giving her a wave. 'Could I be cheeky and ask for your autograph?' She held out a pen, and a copy of Total TV Guide, which had a picture of Blue Watch on the cover, for Amy to sign.

Rory snorted a laugh and nearly choked on his pint of real ale as Amy gave the young woman a warm smile. 'Of course you can. Who shall I dedicate it to?'

She had never minded being the centre of attention. After all, she had been a successful kissogram in the Cotswolds before being spotted by Doctor Smith and becoming a Special Operations Agent. As a kissogram though, she could be fairly anonymous. Now however, she was a member of an internationally known institute, and the public had followed her training with interest.

'Oh. To Liv and Sean please,' Liv said with obvious delight. Amy signed the front cover of the magazine, and Liv went back to her table to show her trophy to her boyfriend.

'Does that happen very often?' their friend Stephanie asked.

'Now and again,' Amy laughed.

'Mind you, you always liked being the centre of attention when you were at school,' their friend Paul reminded her.

'What d'ya mean "the centre of attention"?' Amy asked indignantly.

'Methinks the lady doth protest too much,' Rory said cheekily.

'And methinks my husband doth get a knuckle sandwich if he don't shut his gob,' Amy replied with a smirk.

Rory and Paul had been to school together in Leadworth, and had both attended the University of the West of England in Bristol, where Rory studied to be a nurse, and Paul had studied Music Technology. When Rory qualified as a nurse, he returned to Leadworth and to the love of his life, Amy.

Paul had met Bristolian Stephanie at UWE, and when Amy came to stay with Rory at weekends, they all became firm friends. Paul decided to stay in Bristol when he qualified, and got a job as a sound engineer at BBC Radio Bristol. When Rory and Amy had a long weekend off shift, they had taken up Paul and Steph's invitation to spend the weekend with them in Bristol, where they could visit all their old favourite haunts whilst staying in their comfortable spare room.

Their all time favourite haunt was the pub where they now found themselves. The classic central Bristol, wood-floored hostelry had an eclectic clientèle, being situated as it was in one of the most vibrant, contemporary, cosmopolitan communities known as Stokes Croft. There was an amazing range of local art adorning the walls, and the toilet graffiti art had to be seen to be believed!

'So how's life in London then?' Steph asked Amy as she had a sip of her wine. 'A bit different to sleepy old Leadworth, eh?'

'Yeah. It's great. A lot like Bristol, but all a bit bigger,' Amy told her.

'And I can't believe you're on the telly. You've really landed on your feet you two,' said Steph.

Rory finished supping his real ale and smiled at his wife. 'It's all down to Amy really, and to her parents living in a haunted house.'

'What? The old vicarage is haunted?' Paul asked in surprise.

'Welllll, sort of,' Amy said. 'But that was how I met Doctor Smith, and that was how he came to recommend me to Captain McNab at Torchwood.'

'Oh, that Doctor Smith, he looks SO cute on the telly. What are they like in real life, y'know, him and his wife Rose?' Steph asked her.

Amy gave a coy look to Rory before continuing. 'How do you say it in Bristol? He's gurt lush, and Rose is amazin'. They're a lovely couple, full of fun and mischief. And even though Rose is the Watch Supervisor, y'know, my boss, she's part of our girls night in on a Wednesday night.'

'And those medical facilities look pretty amazing,' Paul said to Rory.

'Oh you have no idea,' Rory said, having another gulp of his ale. 'They can't show you the high tech equipment on the show because it's all classified. But I can tell you it's like being on the set of Star Trek.'

Paul shook his head. 'That's incredible.'

Paul and Stephanie's House.

Shirehampton, Bristol.

The next morning in Paul and Steph's spare room, Amy rolled over towards her husband and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. He roused from his slumber, and a boyish grin spread across his face as he realised what his gorgeous wife was about to do.

'Good morning my flame haired beauty,' he said, lifting his head off the pillow and kissing her on the lips.

'Mornin', my naughty nurse,' she replied with a grin of her own. She eased herself onto his erection and started to grind up and down. Rory lifted his pelvis up and down in rhythm to heighten the sensation and increase their pleasure. They quickly reached their climax, and Amy collapsed on top of him, kissing his neck and nibbling his ear.

She sniffed the air. 'I think we've overdone it Nurse Williams. Cos I can smell burnin',' she said with a giggle.

Rory laughed and sniffed the air himself. 'That's not burning . . . that's bacon!'

They had a quick shower together before getting dressed and going downstairs to the kitchen, where they found Paul sitting at the table with the jug of coffee, and Steph at the stove, frying the bacon.

'Morning you two,' Paul said with a grin. 'How're your heads?'

'Fine, thanks,' Rory replied.

'Did you sleep all right?' Steph asked as she started to serve the breakfast.

'Lovely thanks,' Amy said. 'Although, I think your central heating boiler needs servicing. It's making a humming noise.'

Paul frowned. 'But the central heating isn't on.'

'So what was it? I mean, it didn't bother us at all, it was just like a diesel engine ticking over,' Amy explained.

'Oh, I know what that is,' Steph told them, having been brought up in the city. 'You've heard the Bristol Hum.'