'Show me

'Show me.'

'Come on, Mickey. You'll see it eventually.'

'Exactly. I'd rather see it now than in the middle of a fire fight when I need to keep my head.'

'Fine.'

A flash of steel in the UV lights of a Torchwood office, a slice through flesh and Mickey's worried gasp.

'Rose.'

'I know.'

'… Well this changes things.'

The day after Bad Wolf Bay, Rose starts up a journal. It's leather and thick with notes and newspaper clippings and drawings and translations. She tucks photos into the front, with nothing but a wish and a prayer and the worn leather strap to keep them from escaping.

There's an aged photo of her bouncing her baby brother, Tod, on her knee, a younger one of the family plus Mickey at Tod's year twelve formal and one of Mickey and his wife with a bulging belly.

The first entry is a thirty page long and winded and not as romantic as it sounded passage of everything that's happened to her up till now, starting with the basement of a retail store and ending with a white wall.

The second entry reads exactly like this:

I don't know what did this to me, or how to fix it. I only know one person who could help and he's far beyond my reach.

And that's the only mention she ever makes of it, because it never gets more detailed than that.

It doesn't surprise Jackie when Rose takes off one day. It didn't take long for her to get itchy feet. The Doctor couldn't stay too long in one place; of course it made sense that Rose couldn't either, no matter how close Torchwood was to the stars. She needed adventure, so much more than what Torchwood could offer.

She bought a car and took a gun and took to the road, just kept on driving until she found some adventure or adventure found her. She discovered that she didn't need the dimension of Time on her side, Space was enough.

And no, it wasn't always aliens, sometimes it was a house fire or a murderer, it didn't matter who or what she was fighting against, just that she kept running.

Mickey calls it a gift, but Mickey could be a real idiot sometimes.

She always manages to swing past London on her travels, or, more accurately, she seems to always end up landing there.

Mickey's got him self an army of kids now, three already and one still cooking in the oven. Rose is welcome any time. All the kids call her Aunty Rose.

Her family begin to accept the fact that she only drops in a few times a year, they don't like it, but they do accept it.

It's not fair, but hey, that's life.

Rose was scrubbing the blood off her perfectly healthy arm when her mobile rang.

'Tod, what's up?'

Tod's voice was hushed on the other end of the line.

'Rose, it's Mum. Just come home quickly.'

Rose won't talk about the funeral. She won't even think about it.

And you're sure as hell not going to make her.

Rose was always picky about who she let near or in her car. She was even wary of who she let in even if it was just a getaway. But right now, she was fuming.

'Go home, Tod.'

'No.'

'I said-'

'I don't care what you said, Rose. I'm coming with you.'

Rose's grip on the steering wheel tightens. 'Do you know what Dad would do to me if I let you come?'

'Who do you think told me to get in your car?'

Tod stayed with her for a few years before he meets this girl, all shy and intellectual with the brightest smile he's ever seen and before Rose knew it, she was cradling their youngest in her arms as their firstborn crawls into her lap.

Tod carried on the family business, search, retrieval and research of alien technology for the protection of Great Britain and Earth against the unknown.

'Have you got any more alien stories, Aunty Rose?' Little Alice asked her, pulling up her sleeve and looking for new scars.

'Good luck, kid.' Rose thinks. 'Tell me if you find any of the old ones while you're there.'

The one mission she did take when she swung past Torchwood again ended badly. There was this storehouse in Cardiff and a hidden alien operation.

Tod offered to come, but Pete says they can handle it. It was just another Daddy, Daughter and Alien invasion day together.

There was an explosion; a huge fireball mushroomed into the sky.

Rose walked out unharmed.

No one else did.

Mickey's got a grandkid, just one at the moment, but they'll keep coming. His kids are getting older; all but one of them looks older than Rose now, but they still call her Aunty Rose. The eldest, Amy, has got an adorable eight month old. Sasha Rose.

They go out to dinner with the family, Rose included. Even Mickey and his wife and horde of five kids come along. They go to a cosy little Thai restaurant that Tod frequents, all the waitresses know them.

'Becky, this is my sister, Rose.'

'Rose! It's so good to finally meet you! I've heard so much about you. I bet Tod took good care of his little sister when you were little!'

Rose fakes a smile but can't help but wince.

It's Tod's fortieth birthday.

Rose ignores it, pushes it under the carpet and hopes it doesn't show up again. She doesn't say anything when Tod backs out of a mission every now and then, blaming his knee or Alice's awards night or Johnny's first day of high school. She doesn't say anything when people start to assume that Tod is her father, it's easier than the truth, anyway.

Then one night, the two of them are sitting in the living room at three in the morning, nursing beers and laughing as they told stories of parent/teacher nights and crazy aliens.

The room goes quiet for a while and Tod takes a long time to say what he has been planning.

'I'm retiring in a few months.'

Rose looks over at him, rolling his beer bottle in a small circle on the table. The grey in his hair and beard catches the light and his face suddenly seems so much more worn and so much like his father.

'A little early to be retiring, wouldn't you say?'

'Not as early as you think.' Tod replies.

For a long time after that, the passenger seat of Rose's car is empty, save for the ghost of her baby brother, older than her and so much more normal.

Alice is fresh out of collage when she approaches her, young and idealistic. She dreams of adventure and travelling. It's amazing how easily she slides into the seat that her father vacated with a wink and a smile. She dreams of monsters and aliens and all sorts of bed time stories she heard when she was young.

If they have to explain, they tell people they're sisters. No one would buy the real story anyway, and some crackpot story would just confuse the hell out of people.

Hey, I'm Rose. This is my niece, Alice. Her father's pushing forty and I could have been his mother. By the way, seen any strange lights up in the sky recently?

Yeah, that'd work.

When enough years pass by, Rose becomes her daughter, because it's easier that way.

But all too soon, Alice becomes anxious for real life, for a home and a dog and a husband.

Rose just lets her go.

Rose meets a boy in France, saves his life, really. And he's so captivated by the stories she tells and the things that are after her that he begs her to let him go with her. Rose lets him, because, lets face it, what good is it seeing the world when you have no one to share it with?

But when she gets a message on her phone, she instantly leaves him in Marseille and drives straight back to London.

Mickey was so old, lying in that bed, surrounded by machines and family. There was quite a crowd, one wife, five children, sixteen grandchildren and one old friend.

"There's nothing they can do." the doctors say. "It's just his time to go."

Time. What the hell do they know about Time? They've never truly experienced Time! They've never seen it with their eyes or held it in their hand! They've never seen everyone they love grow old and whither and die!

That day, she believes what was said outside a fast food restaurant in the middle of the night.

Tod's death was her fault. There was an epidemic sweeping through England, alien based. The last time she saw him was on a gurney, being rolled into the hospital.

'You have to let me see him!'

'I'm sorry, miss. Only immediate family is allowed.'

'You don't understand! He's my brother and I need to see him!'

'Miss, that's impossible. Now just stand back.'

'You, get the hell away from me. You don't know. You'd never know, and I can't…'

The moment she can, she takes the first flight off that forsaken chunk of earth and heads straight for the stars. The way she sees it, she has less than thirty centuries to waste before they build the transport she wants.

They go past a lot faster than she expects.

Rose doesn't count the years, not like everyone else does. She tracks them with the companions she keeps.

She keeps drifting, because if she moves fast enough and doesn't give her name, then she lives in obscurity. No one bothers to track her down in a universe this size, and even if they do find her, what could they do to her?

Funnily enough, the strangest thing about this new version of travelling is the languages she has to learn. Not that she doesn't have all the time in the world to discover them, but the fact that it's nearly impossible to just land on a planet and save it in under an hour.

Not that it's a problem; it just makes things more difficult.

And after hitching a lift on a rundown piece of garbage with an eccentric crew to the outskirts of the galaxy, and landing on a planet where "Rose" doesn't translate into their language, she gives up on her name, simply not bothering to tell it to the people she saves.

Eventually, her name gets lost, and she becomes the stuff of legends.

Rose can't remember a time when she felt happier than the day she got her hands on a vortex manipulator. She immediately skips ahead to a time more advanced where they created a capsule to travel in. She seeks out the Eternals and sets about creating a very specific type of technology that has never before been seen in this universe, except for a funny little park in London so long ago that no one even cares about the history of that time.

When it's built, which is a good couple of centuries later, it looks perfect. Blue and weather beaten and so, so out of place that it's normal. The inside needs a bit of work, and there are far too many rooms and not enough stuff to put in there, but its workable. Give her a few more centuries and it'll be perfect.

There's a woman who flies around the universe in a police public call box. You don't believe me, do you? But it's true. She's found all through history, always the same face, always the same story.

I'm travelling. She says with a smile. Just seeing the sights. You said something strange was going on?

She picks up people to go travelling with her sometimes, ordinary people, extraordinary people, it doesn't matter, it always ends the same anyway. People show up, sometimes slightly out of their times, people with amazing stories about Time Vortex's and Cybermen and creatures from every other planet.

She constantly moves, never staying in the same place for long, but always ending up in London, usually the day before the Great Cybus take over, hiding in the shadows of a ship, so similar and so different to her own.

Anyway, who said Time Ladys don't exist in this universe?

Yay! I'm not dead! Sorry, I got a little (read, VERY) distracted on my original story I'm writing. Only a month in and it's already 25 pages!

I wasn't sure about the style, this is my first try at it. The idea came from a Supernatural Fanfic I read, I can't remember where, if someone knows, please tell me! Written before I saw much of season 4, so I guess I've gotten Jossed.

Please review!