Credits: A Who in Whoville for writing 'I've Grown Accustomed To His Face' It gave me the idea for the Parkinson interview. (Check out theTARDIS-Blue Like Jazz series)

Also, her Doctor and Rose characters in that series liking the show 'Alias' made me go and have a look and now I'm hooked ( I streamed all 5 seasons back to back).

Thanks to Thanatosx49 for loving the Alistair character which prompted me to write his back story.

The sub plots got a bit complex and I had a bit of writers block so I watched 'Alias', and the ideas started to flow. I can see the Sydney Bristow character as a Torchwood trained Rose Tyler, all confident and 'kick ass'. I would love to see the metacrisis Doctor as the dashing CIA agent Michael Vaughan, but I'm afraid he would probably be the Techno Geek Marshall Flinkman (complete with runaway gob).

So fasten your seatbelts, It's a bumpy ride.

Chapter 1

The TARDIS slowly materialised in the basement workshop of Dr. John Smith, Northumberland Place, Notting Hill, London. The occupants could be heard chatting amicably as the blue wooden door opened inward.

"You're doing fine Love. A bit more practice on the landings and you'll be able to land on a penny," John said as Rose stepped out with bags of shopping. John came out behind her with the 'baby bag' and their eight month old son Eyulf in a papoose on his back.

Young EJ was chuckling, as his fathers manic movements were like a rollercoaster ride. Rose liked John to use the papoose as it tended to slow him down a bit and make his movements a bit more 'normal'.

"Hi Donna, we're home," she called out to the house computer.

"Hello you lot. Did you have a nice time on Shan Shen?" Donna-the-house asked them.

"It was brilliant," John enthused. "I think EJ still has a cream moustache from the frothy milk shake. I'll upload the TARDIS's recordings to your server later."

"Oooh, that'll be lovely. Thank you."

"How are things here?" Rose asked her. While they were off shift from Torchwood Special Operations, they had spent a week on Shan Shen but only been away from Earth for three days.

"All quiet. You have some post, which is still by the front door. Brendan from next door called around to say they were having a party last night. I told them the noise wouldn't be a problem, and your mother phoned to remind you that it's the Parkinson Party tonight at the Mansion."

"Oh yeah, it's Pete's interview tonight," John said as he carefully extracted his son from the papoose. "What time have we got to be there?"

"The meal is at 7:30 and the programme is on at 9:00." Pete Tyler, being such a high profile, media friendly Millionaire, had been approached by the BBC to do an interview with Michael Parkinson.

"Oh great, that means we can have Saturday afternoon in front of the telly watching the sport. I'll put EJ down for his afternoon nap then," John said.

Rose rolled her eyes. To say he didn't do domestic when he was the 'other' Doctor, this version of him had taken to it like a duck to water. She often thought it was the Donna in him.

"I'll put the kettle on," Rose replied.

They cuddled up on the sofa with their cups of tea. Rose opened the various letters, which were the electricity statement, a reminder for the car insurance and various mail shots for things they would never need. John found some cricket from Sydney, Australia to watch via satellite.

'Not that domestic then', she thought with a wry smile. 'Leave the bills and stuff to the wife'. At least it was sport he was watching which usually kept him quiet.

Rose tended to watch her favourite dramas when he wasn't around. Science fiction shows usually had him in fits of laughter, and a period drama would have him annoyingly point out the errors, telling her he was there so he should know. And don't get her started on murder/mysteries, what with him knowing who did it after all the suspects were introduced.

So the sedate pace of the cricket was fine, and they enjoyed a quiet afternoon relaxing after their hectic week on Shan Shen, before getting ready to leave for the party that evening.

18:12, and the blue Renault Clio reversed out of its allotted parking place and drove toward the security barrier, the headlights illuminating the armed soldier on guard duty that evening.

The driver held their ID out for the guard, who was using his torch to check the seats of the car. He then used it to look at the drivers face.

"You off home tonight?" the guard asked as he looked at the ID.

"Yes. It's my week off," the driver replied.

"Lucky you." The guard handed back the ID. "Doin' anythin' nice?"

"I wish! Decorating."

The guard laughed. "You take it easy, you hear. Good night."

"Thanks. Good night."

As the barrier raised, the car pulled onto the road and headed for London.

In a residential part of London, Nicholas Fisher, or Fishy as he was known at the local constabulary, was out for his evening activity of petty theft.

He was an opportunist, taking anything that wasn't glued, screwed or bolted down. He considered that he was providing a service to the community, in so much that if people weren't careful with their belongings, then he would take them and look after them for you.

One of his favourite opportunities were the traffic lights at the busy junction on the main road, where there was always a long line of traffic. He crossed the road and approached a Renault Clio with just the driver in the car. He took a small hammer out of the pocket of his hoodie.

As he walked past the passenger side, he saw a bag on the passenger seat. With one swift action, he smashed the side window with the hammer, grabbed the bag and ran across the road, down a footpath between the houses and disappeared.

"My first guest this evening is an entrepreneur and self made millionaire," Michael Parkinson said, starting his introduction to camera.

"From humble beginnings on a council estate, where he made and sold health drinks that appealed to the public's taste buds, to an unexpected turn of events that found him appointed director of the high tech Torchwood Institute. Ladies and gentlemen please welcome, Peter Tyler."

The band started to play the theme tune. The studio audience applauded as Parky stood up and Pete Tyler jogged down the curved staircase to the studio floor. He shook Parky's hand and sat in the first 'guest' chair.

"It's Daddy on the telly!" Tony told everyone in the lounge at Tyler mansion.

"Don'tcha think he looks more handsome on the telly Mum?" Rose asked as they sat watching the recorded show.

Jackie was curled up on the sofa next to Pete, she lifted her hand to stroke his cheek.

"Nah, he always looks handsome to me," she said. He leaned towards her and they kissed.

"It took hours in makeup and a tub of Polyfiller to achieve that look," Pete said with a grin.

On the TV, Parky had started the interview.

"Healthy foods and drinks always seemed to be unpalatable. I saw kids drinking gallons of fizzy drinks full of sugar and additives and thought 'what if I could get the taste right, would they drink a healthy drink'?" Pete explained.

"And that was that!" Parky replied.

"Pretty much yeah, although, it didn't happen overnight."

"Where did your catch phrase come from?"

Pete laughed. "That actually came from Jackie. She thought I was a waste of space. The flat was full of bottles and jars of ingredients and she kept asking me when I was going to get rid of it all. 'Once I get the taste right, this stuff will fly off the shelves', I told her. She just looked at me and said, 'I can trust you on that can I?'"

The audience laughed as Pete gave his now famous grin and thumbs up.

"Did you really think Dad was a waste of space Mum?" Rose asked.

"It was like living with Del Boy Trotter," she said rolling her eyes at the memory of the cluttered flat. Rose smiled, she had also seen their flat when the Doctor had taken her back to 1987 in the old universe.

Parky had moved on to the events of February 1st, 2007 and quickly skipped over the gruesome Cybermen attacks, and focussed on Jackie's birthday party.

On the screen behind them, a security camera photograph of Rose and the Doctor dressed as serving staff appeared. Pete laughed and dropped into the cover story created by Torchwood security.

"Rose came over from Switzerland with her new boyfriend to surprise her Mum on her 39th birthday." Pete air quoted the 39 with his fingers, which got a laugh from Parky and the audience. "I got into a lot of trouble for telling everyone she was 40."

Pete looked back at the photograph. "They snuck in disguised as waiting staff, but before they could surprise Jackie... Well everyone knows what happened next." Pete had a momentary pang of guilt and remorse as he thought about 'his' Jackie.

Parky skillfully redirected the interview to keep the mood light hearted.

"You hadn't met Dr. Smith at this point had you?"

"No. I can honestly say that the pair of them turning up at the house was a complete surprise," Pete said with a smile. "In all the chaos, I managed to call Jackie on her mobile and told her to get out of London and go to Switzerland with Rose."

"Those profilers put a good story together," Jack interrupted.

"And they stayed there for three years," Parky said, reading from his notes.

"Yeah, Rose was finishing her studies at college, and I was busy sorting out Torchwood and Cybus Industries. And, absence makes the heart grow fonder," he said with a smile.

"Oh yes, I understand President Jones asked you personally to clean up the Torchwood Institute and Cybus Industries."

"Yeah, I happened to be in the right place at the right time. The two organisations had become very single minded and set in their ways. This meant that they had developed their own agendas, and corruption was rife."

"And you have been very successful in turning them around," Parky complemented.

"I hope so," Pete said. "Torchwood is more transparent now. We still have secrets, but I have monthly meetings with the President to report our status. I wanted Cybus Industries to account for its wrongdoings and changed the profile to a philanthropic organisation, producing goods that benefited society and the planet."

The audience broke into spontaneous applause, many of them having relatives or friends that had been affected by the Cybermen attacks of 2007. Pete just sat silently nodding his appreciation to the audience.

Parky waited for the audience to show their appreciation for his guest before continuing. "And then of course, a year after your wife and daughter returned from Switzerland, your son appeared."

"Yeah, you could say I was really pleased to see my wife again," Pete said with a smirk. The audience cheered and applauded.

"Peter Tyler!" Jackie said as she playfully slapped his arm. "Fancy sayin' that on national TV."

"What?" he said, feigning innocence. John, Rose and Jack were in fits of laughter. Jackie had been in the green room at the studio watching the recording, but still felt she had to protest her displeasure to her guests.

If truth be known though, she wasn't displeased at all. The thought of millions of people knowing they'd shagged like a pair of rabbits when they'd got back from Canary Wharf was quite a turn on.

"How do Rose and Tony get along? There's quite an age difference there," Parky asked, bringing Jackie 'back in the room', and back to the interview.

"They adore each other," Pete told him and the audience 'ahhhed'. "And John spends a lot of time with him, showing him sciencey stuff. He's a really bright lad." Pete had a proud grin on his face.

"And of course, you're a grandfather now. How does that feel?" Parky asked him with a smile.

"Old!" Pete said, which got a laugh from the audience.

"Your daughter and son-in-law attract a lot of media attention, how do they feel about that?"

"You'd probably have to ask them that question, they're very private people and I think they try to ignore it. They don't really understand all the interest in them."

"Well they did make a sudden appearance on the scene and not much is known about them. Maybe they'd like to come on the show and tell their story," Parky suggested. He knew a ratings winner when he saw it and those two would win hands down.

The audience cheered and applauded, showing their desire to have them on the show as well.

"Oh no," John groaned. He was not happy about telling their cover story on national TV.

"The profilers say that if you did the show, the tabloids and gossip mags would lose interest in you," Pete told him as Parky wound up the interview.

"Huh!" is all John said. Rose smiled at his grumpiness before turning to her Mum.

"So were your lives running parallel up to the point where I was born?"

"Pretty much, yeah. It's a bit spooky really how we made similar choices and decisions." Jackie started reminiscing about her life with her 'other' Pete. She and her 'new' Pete had already compared notes on their early lives.

Jackie got to the bit where 'her' Pete was killed, and Rose told how she had cradled him as he died. John pulled her into a hug as she wiped a tear from her eye.

Pete gripped Jackie's hand and looked intently into her eyes.

"You Okay?" he asked her. She smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine; I've got you back now. Tell them what happened to you two in this world after that day."

"Well, it was about a year later and my last ditch attempt to get it right before Jackie threw everything out of the window, me included." Jackie snuggled up to him on the sofa.

"I'd kept notes over the years of all my attempts and thought 'what the hell', let's throw it all together and see what happens. So I put all the different flavours together and made up a batch with sparkling water." He smiled at the memory.

"I couldn't wait for Jackie to get back from town for her to try it, it was brilliant. I suppose you could call it a happy accident. We started bottling it and selling it on Choumert Road market in Peckham, then to the local independent supermarkets. Soon, that gave us enough money to buy more stock. I went to the national supermarkets with samples and talked to their buyers."

While Rose's Mum had been forced to stay in the flat on the Powell estate, scraping a living by hairdressing from home, Pete told them how he and 'his' Jackie had bought a house and a bottling factory in Hounslow. With some clever marketing, Pete's roguish smile and catch phrase, he quickly made his first million.

"The company was in great shape when Lumic proposed a management buyout." Pete visibly grimaced at the name of Lumic. "Overnight I joined the list of the top ten richest people in Britain. That's when I bought this place for Jackie. It was my way of saying thanks for sticking with me and believing in me."

"And did that sarky butler of yours come with the house?" Jackie asked him with a smile.

"Well, no, but that's another story..."

20 years previously.

Sheila Morrison was slouched on the threadbare sofa watching daytime TV. The sofa had seen better days when she had been given it by some well meaning Christian outfit, but what the hell, beggars can't be choosers.

She was watching some young lad claim that his girlfriend had slept with his best mate and that the child wasn't his. Sheila had only had sex once when she got pregnant, so she felt that gave her the moral high ground.

"Should've used an asprin as a contraceptive pill love," she told the teenager on the screen. "Y' hold it between yer knees," she said with a chuckle. Her mother had told her that one and it still made her laugh. Pity she hadn't followed the advice though.

That sperm provider of a man, (she refused to call him a father to her son) had run a mile when he found out she was pregnant. She never saw him again. Benny The Fence said he had heard that he was doing a stretch in Wormwood Scrubs for robbery and GBH.

It was probably for the best that the bastard wasn't around. No telling what he'd have done to his son with that short temper of his and those large fists.

She was interrupted from her viewing by a tap-tap-tap of the letterbox.

"Oh who the bloody 'ell's that?"

She shuffled down the short hallway to the front door and opened it to find the community police officer standing there with a hand on her son's shoulder.

"Hello Sheila," he said in a resigned sort of way.

"What do you want?" She looked down at her son Andrew.

"What's he been up to this time?"

"Well, as he's stood here, he's obviously been bunkin' off school, and Mrs Kaur at the shop says she caught him nickin' sweets, although I can't find any evidence of that."

Sheila scowled at her son. "Get in here y' little sod."

"You'll be havin' a visit from the truant officer and probably social services as well," the officer said as she slammed the door in his face.

"Glad to be of service," he said to the door.

"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT NICKIN' STUFF?" she shouted. "Y' don't nick off family!" She clipped him around the ear. "Y' only nick off yer friends if yer can get away with it, or if yer can do without 'em." Another clip around the ear. "And don't nick on yer own doorstep!" A final clip around the ear to get the message home.

"Mrs Kaur's shop of all places," she said disgusted. "I have to go in there to get me beer and ciggies, y' little git... Go on get out of me sight."

Sheila shuffled back to the sofa, muttering under her breath. Andrew wasn't a bad lad really she thought. He was clever, too clever for his own good at times. Quick witted and with a smart mouth. He could be a real smart-aleck at times.

She often wished things could be different, that she could give him a better life, but she had no job, no prospects and money was tight. All she could do was try and teach him to be street smart so he could survive out there in the big wide world.

Andrew went into his bedroom, his eyes stinging with tears. He wasn't going to cry, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction. He sat on his bed and with a magicians flourish produced a packet of sweets, apparently out of thin air.

Last Christmas, his Mum had managed to nick a Junior Magician Magic Set from the school jumble sale. He was already quite good with his hands; light fingers came in useful when picking pockets.

He had started reading the book and practicing with the props provided in the box. He learned very quickly that it was all about misdirection, making the punter see what you wanted them to see, and not what you were actually doing.

He started doing 'find the lady' and 'cup and ball' at school for kid's dinner money and was making quite a bit of pocket money. A visit to the library got him some books on magic and magicians, and he really started to develop.

One magician in particular caught his imagination, Harry Houdini. He could make audiences think he was in mortal danger of drowning, while he was really sitting on a stool reading a newspaper. That was class, and he wanted to be able to do that.

Apparently he had also been locked naked in a prison cell. Not only did he escape, but he also moved all the other prisoners around into different cells. Genius!