Disclaimer: It's not mine. All the lovely BBCs.

Author Notes: This is set sometime in the future; I've put all the junior agents mentioned in their twenties. There is reference to Blane/Daisy and also some Rose/Frank – it's set in the future, remember people. She's not jailbait at this point! Raymond is the genius teenage inventor who appeared in the series three episode 'The Glove.' I really hope you guys enjoy

OUR FUTURE

Her dad had really wanted her to go to a more prestigious school, somewhere that would focus on and make the very best of her intelligence and get her on the path to that lofty position he felt she deserved. She'd been looking forward to a place like that too. But Rose was glad, in the end, that MI:9 steered her to St Hopes. It had changed everything. And made the best of her, in her opinion. It was a shame he'd probably never know just how important and respected her work was.

She never used to wear nail polish, not until she met Daisy. But Daisy had insisted, during one long period of mission research.

"If we're going to work together, you need some help," she'd told Rose, choosing a colour that apparently went with Rose's complexion without clashing with the MI:9 uniform.

It was a small thing, insignificant probably, but Rose grew to like the way her painted nails looked and that was thanks to Daisy. Rose was trying to come up with a formula that eliminated the strong chemical smell that Daisy always complained about. It was one of her pet projects, in between gadgets and breakthroughs and scientific discoveries. Something relaxing.

Daisy and Blane were travelling the world together now on international assignments. Well, not always together. They were still a pretty radioactive combination. Too long spent in each other's company and they split off in opposite directions at an impressive speed. It was a crazy way to carry out a relationship, if it could even be called that. But it had been almost seven years and they were always drawn back to each other. Daisy would still shriek down the phone about the nerve Blane had to leave before her and he'd left some of his stupid karate DVDs in her bag so he'd come back, wouldn't he? Of course he would.

Blane came to HQ sometimes. He'd be there for a debriefing or during a particularly huge crisis or because he wanted more of the jelly cups the HQ cafeteria served. He'd hug Rose, always awkwardly, and his mouth would draw into that lopsided grin. It was good to see him too.

The teardrop earrings Rose always wore were a present from Raymond. Tiny voice recognition software systems that activated an alarm in HQ if she spoke a certain codeword and could also put her on an emergency private line to Raymond the instant she recited the coding used inside his glove invention.

"You never know when you might need me," he'd told her when he'd handed her the jewellery box.

There was copper wire wrapped tightly around it, the ends twisted into extravagant numerals. She'd hung the wire over her HQ desk. She liked the way they caught the light.

So far she'd only used his direct line once - when disarming the timer of a bomb strapped to the underneath of the Prime Minister's chair. When the Prime Minister had been sat on it.

In the end, they'd managed six months of a relationship before their identically consuming jobs, equally driven needs to have the answers, and utterly different approaches to work separated them. They still regularly collaborated on the larger MI:9 technology projects, when Rose had the free time away from her science department. Currently, they were working with MI:9's engineering crew on the construction and design of a stealth plane, for overseas missions and extractions. And Raymond always brought her favourite doughnuts, plain rings covered in chocolate sprinkles.

Oscar was more difficult. He'd trained agents for a while, like Daisy and Blane used to, and then ultimately went back to active duty. He specialised in child cases, having set up safe houses all over the UK. He wanted to do the same in other countries and Rose had agreed to go through his proposal for the MI:9 board. She would back him, her role as Head of MI:9's Science Department, their youngest ever, would carry weight.

He never talked about his mum any more. Well, there was one time, after they'd met up following Rose's university graduation and another successful mission that had almost derailed the ceremony fatally, and gone out for drinks. Rose had been stone-cold sober, she was the one on call in case of emergencies, and Oscar had leant towards her, his breath warm and beery.

"My dad had an accident, right after I was born," he'd said it like a secret. "Now, sometimes I think maybe my mum……"

Carrie and Rose had met each other's identically startled and horrified gazes and Carrie had quickly jumped in with a distracting story of her own. She and Rose had later agreed to never mention the conversation to Oscar again. Just in case he didn't remember it.

Oscar still wore his hair long, though he'd dyed it a dark brown now, and had a tattoo of a numerical date on his shoulder, in careful curling letters. Rose only knew about it after his file was updated with the information the day she was using the system. She had cross-checked the date and confirmed her suspicion that she'd only told Carrie about; the date was the day Oscar's dad had died. Oscar made sure that the team stayed in touch regularly. He didn't want to lose anyone else.

She talked the most to Carrie almost exclusively over the phone. Carrie was constantly touring with the gymnastics squad she coached and didn't get to come home very often. She'd gathered a lot of interesting intel whilst travelling. It had given her a very hefty MI:9 promotion. When she eventually stopped training young civilians, she was going to become the head of physical training at MI:9.

"Remember to have fun, Rose," she'd warned the last time she'd visited, having dragged Rose out for a pub dinner and then dancing. "Or I'll tell Sergei you're looking for a date."

Sergei was Carrie's assistant coach. He was very sweet, with stumbling English and fluid body language. He was also the brother of Carrie's fiancé, acclaimed Russian gymnast, Theo. Carrie was reluctantly keeping the wedding out of the media. It was just the sort of event that SKUL would gatecrash.

Rose didn't want to date Sergei. He was very nice, but she already had someone. It was just that Carrie didn't know. It was sort of a secret. There weren't any rules against fraternisation in MI:9 and now that Lenny was the boss of the entire organisation, Rose had an inside line to what rules were taken the most seriously. She had done research to be sure.

Frank ate lunch with her everyday. He worked with both her and Raymond on their ideas and gadgets. He preferred working in the gadget and training divisions than in the field, they were where he felt he made the most difference. He'd been an excellent team leader though and Rose had made sure that Lenny knew and updated Frank's file accordingly.

Frank understood her work. He'd sit beside her, his own blueprints and plans spilling over the desk and out of his hands, and ask the questions she needed so that she could see her ideas objectively. Whilst working with Raymond pushed her to do better, Frank helped her to see everything clearer. His conceptual thinking was unmatched and he could see a tiny detail out of place better than anyone else.

He also could tell when she just needed to talk or needed a break, forcing her to put her work down and step back. His hand at her back was all the warning she needed. He knew the best blend of coffee for the occasion too.

"You're a genius, Frank."

"Well, I wouldn't quite say that……."

"I would."

Frank could cook, if chaotically and untidily. His flat wasn't small but it felt cramped with all the inventions and machines he had crammed into every corner. Rose usually found herself squeezed into an armchair, stuffing pouring out of one arm after a laser incident, balancing crockery full of fragrant-smelling food on her knees. Frank would perch on a sideboard and they'd talk well into the night. His flat was closer to HQ anyway.

Sometimes she'd bring her clarinet and play. Frank had suggested she try the blues or jazz. It had been an interesting experiment and Rose liked how some of the pieces sounded. She sang sometimes too, if she was feeling brave enough. Frank turned out to be a good percussionist. It was fun to play together.

He'd given her a ring earlier in the year. A solid silver piece with a hint of delicate design to it. A promise ring. Rose loved it. She loved the look on Frank's face when he'd given it to her even more.

The Grandmaster was still at large. SKUL wasn't weakening any time soon. Rose had at least three new designs to plan and another session on the stealth plane scheduled with Raymond. She wanted to write a paper on one of her electronics theories for a well-respected journal this year and explore some of her own scientific ideas for publication. Daisy had promised some exciting news the next time she checked in. Oscar was visiting tomorrow for his final meeting with the MI:9 board about his international safehouses idea. She had a sabbatical coming up, she was going abroad to visit a couple of MI:9's sister organisations. The output from them was very promising. Frank was looking to oversee the project with her, to take the co-lead on it.

Rose was wearing her hair down today. Frank liked it that way and she liked his smile when he saw her. There was a world to keep safe and Rose Gupta was more than up for the challenge, because she wasn't trying to do it alone.

-the end