A/N: Wow, what an unexpected yet very welcome response to the first chapter. Thank you all so much. I will do my best to keep updates as regular as possible, and this chapter is un-betaed so any errors are my fault. Thank you and reviews are always welcome, and appreciated.

Tuesday, 5:20 PM

Today feels as if it's never going to end. As soon as five O'clock rolls around I can't get out of work fast enough. Earlier, I told Rory I wasn't sure about the party, but knowing that one David Smith, may actually be there I very quickly changed my mind. I can't stop thinking about him, not like I could stop thinking about him before, but now it's worse. It's one thing seeing him while I'm at work, but it's another to see him out in public. I haven't been to a party since Jimmy and I broke up. I should say when he was put in jail, and that's a long time ago. A very long time.

As I come up to my front door I can hear my phone inside start to ring, there is only one person who calls my home phone, and everyone else I know calls my cell. Almost everyone.

Digging through my purse I fish out my keys to unlock the door, Mickey whines excitedly while I try and fight my way inside. "Move you big lug," I grumble, but as usual Mickey ignores me bumping against my legs as I dash for the phone, huffing breathlessly.

"H-hello?"

"Rose? Oh good you're home." The voice on the other end chirped happily.

"Hi Mum, I just walked through the door. What's up?"

"Oh, I didn't catch you at a bad time did I?" The disappointment in her voice evident.

I try very hard not to roll my eyes. I can feel a guilt trip coming on. "No Mum, I just got off work."

"Oh, that's good dear, are you busy? I was hoping you could come over tonight and help me clear out your old room."

My Mum has been bugging me for months to come over and clear out my old bedroom so she can turn it into a sewing room. One of her new pet projects to pass the days. It's only fair that I go help her, but I've been avoiding this for a while now. Part of me doesn't want to lose that last bit of my childhood.

"Uh, I really can't tonight, Mum. I. Um, I'm going out." I close my eyes waiting for the string of questions. Truth is I hardly ever go out anymore. It's not that I don't have the friends, it's that my life is so complicated.

"You're going out?! Where are you going?"

"Nowhere special, just to a party with some friends."

"Oh Rose, that's wonderful to hear. You haven't been out in ages, not since you and Jimmy… well never mind that. Don't worry about your old Mum, go have fun sweetheart."

My Mother never found out what happened between Jimmy and I she always adored him, and I didn't have the heart to tell her how bad things had gotten. That and because Jimmy has been in Jail for the last five years for assaulting me, and a number of police officers. As far as my Mother is concerned I broke up with him, and he left town. It would break her heart if she had known the truth. No matter how horrible Jimmy treated me, he always treated my mother good.

"I will always worry about you, Mum." The guilty feeling slowly rising from the pit of my stomach. "How about I come by tomorrow, I don't work so you'll have me all to yourself. Ya? You can make us a cuppa, and we'll go through all my old junk then."

"That would be wonderful, I can't wait to see you."

"Me too Mum." No matter how crazy she sometimes drives me, I would do anything for my Mum.

"Now you go and have fun at the party, and tell me all about it tomorrow when you get here alright."

"Okay Mum, I will."

"Love you sweetheart."

"Love you too." Sighing I hang up the phone, part of me wondering if I should cancel on the party, and go see her it's been awhile since I've visited I know how lonely she can get. Looking down at Mickey whose big brown eyes look up at me. "I hope I'm not making a mistake." I say knowing full well that my furry friend cares more about if I brought him some treats from work. "Come on, let's get you outside, then you then you can have your treat." Mickey barks and yelps excitedly at the mention of one of his favorite words. The other being walk, but that's just a close second to his all-time favorite treats.

Putting the dog outside and plopping a few scones into his dish, I pop into the shower to start to get ready for this party. I really hope I don't regret this.

Tuesday, 6:30 pm

After my shower I let the dog in making sure he is well fed, and quickly feeding myself. I've learned the hard way never drink on a empty stomach, throwing together a sandwich and a few cookies to tide me over. Then I begin the tedious process of getting ready. We all agreed to meet at my place and take one car over to this… party. Some sort of former-college party for a mutual friend that Rory, and apparently David used to work together. The friends name is Sarah Jane, I had met her once when she came in with my boss Jack. She is a lovely older woman, who I guess is retiring from teaching this year. Not that she is old enough to retire, but from what I heard she wants to travel the world before she gets too old. It's a nice thought, to travel the world, I have always wanted to travel. Unfortunately my life took a different turn, as much as I would love to go to Paris, France or any other amazing places I am very happy where I am. Mostly.

Laying out a number of dresses in all different colours and styles, I decide to go with something nice but not too slutty. I don't want to give David the wrong impression, as much as I would love to tackle him to the ground, and do all sorts of naughty things too him. I am not a slag, so my nice red dress I bought last year when I went to my uncles wedding with do just fine. The dress is sleek and hugs my body in all the right ways, and it shows just enough skin to be sexy but not so much that I look like I'm easy. It takes me almost an hour to put on my make-up and do my hair. It's been so long nothing seems to go right and I huff with frustration. Finally looking in the mirror I'm about as finished as I'm going to get.

Walking out of the bathroom I spot Mickey lounging on the sofa watching me intently. "What do you think?" I ask turning slowly around. The dog cocks his head slightly, then yawns loudly. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," I mutter under my breath.

Tuesday, 7:45 PM

Suddenly there's a loud knock at my door startlingly me and sending Mickey into a frenzy of barking and lunging excitedly. Amy is the first to arrive, since she lives in the flat directly above mine.

"Oh, look at you sexy lady. You know, I've never seen you dressed up before." She winks motioning for me to spin around, so she can get a good look. "Very nice, Rosie."

"Do you think so?" I ask feeling the familiar flutter of nerves slowly building up in my chest.

"Hell yes, you're gorgeous. You know I wouldn't lie to you if you weren't." She's right, one thing about Amy I have come to realize over the years we've been friends, and co-workers is that she's very truthful yet never in a cruel way as some people are. Amy Pond is one of the most outspoken kindest people I know.

Before I can respond the doorbell rings through my flat, I curse turning quickly into the direction I had last seen Mickey. There is a loud thudding crash and thundering barking from my entryway, again but this time he sounds like he's out for blood.

"Mickey!" I grumble. "Come here!"

Mickey, bounds around the living room, like a lunatic nearly knocking my legs out from under me. I open the front door and see Rory and Clara standing together.

"I didn't know you had a dog," Rory says curtly, but doesn't move from his spot on my doorstep, as Clara passes by me making a big fuss over Mickey as he happily jumps up licking her face.

I stare at Rory for a bit holding the door open, he just stands there staring wide-eyed at Clara as she plays with my dog. "Come on in, I didn't think I needed to be so formal." I tease but he scowls at me.

"He doesn't like dogs, sweetie," Amy says stepping up next to me. It's suddenly becoming very crowded in the entryway.

"I love your dog, Rose." Clara giggles, gently tugging on Mickeys floppy ears. "What kind of dog is he?"

"Uhh… he's a Chocolate Lab, Clara. Rory, you can come in, he doesn't bite."

"I'm, uh… I'm fine out here. Don't worry about me."

"Rory…"

"No, really. I'm fine. It's a nice night. You look really nice by the way." his hands are buried in the pockets of his dark slacks.

"Um, thanks." Nice isn't what I'm looking for, but under the circumstances I'll take it.

"Ya." He says giving my dog the evil-eye.

"Oh, Rory he's lovely. There's nothing to be scared of look at this face." Clara babbles grabbing Mickey by the sides of his head pressing her face into his, Mickey happily taking in the affection.

"Right. Let's just… let's go. Please." Rory begs taking a single step back from the door.

Rolling my eyes, I collect Mickey from Clara and check his food and water in the yard. He hates being left outside, but since he had be indoors all day I figure it's better that he's outside burning off some of his energy. He looks up at me, betrayal and abandonment in his deep brown, soulful eyes. I scratch behind his ears with both hands.

"I'll be back boy."

So now my motley crew of friends is assembled on the front porch, Rory leans against the door frame looking smugly collected again. Afraid of dogs! Ridiculous.

"Do I look alright? I'm not overdressed am I?" Three sets of eyes scan over me, head to toe and back.

"I think you look very pretty," Clara says, "If I were a man, I'd sleep with you."

"Perfect. That's… well that's something, isn't it?" I grab my jacket and hit the off the lights, closing and locking the door behind me.

"I like your shoes," Clara whispers in my ear and she and I wedge into the backseat of Rory's car.

"Oh yeah?" It was a last minute choice, and I almost wore my trainers. I normally never go anywhere without them. Then I thought that they would make me stand out a little too much, so I opted for a black pair of flats that I bought a few years ago that I never got a chance to wear.

"Yes, very much. Where did you buy them?"

"Uh, I don't remember it was a long time ago."

"You smell like dog," Rory says, wrinkling his nose.

"I just had a shower." I complain slumping down into my seat, trying to smell the sleeve of my dress. I don't smell anything, but it is possible I guess. My dress has been hanging in my closet unworn for years.

Amy begins to rummage through her purse. She pulls out a bottle of something and reaches back to hand it to me, "Here."

"What? Is that perfume? I don't know Amy." At work we have a strict no scented anything. I guess I've just gotten use to not having to use perfumes, and such. Pulling off the cap the strong waft of perfume assaults my nose. It's not a bad smell, it's just... strong, and not something I would normally wear.

"A little bit might not hurt. You are a bit… musty," Amy offers, twisting around and adjusting the seat belt.

"Musty?!" I'm quickly starting to change my mind about this whole thing. Going to my Mothers is sounding more, and more like a fantastic idea.

"Doggy."

"I like it," Clara says, leaning over sniffing me.

"Okay, fine. A bit. I don't want to smell like a floozy." I snap giving the bottle a single squirt around my neck then handing it back to Amy.

Rory laughs and drives, and Amy turns up the volume on the radio. Clara hums along off key. And I close my eyes letting the music lull me into a relaxing state

Tuesday 8:00 PM

I use to be great at these kinds of things. Parties. Dark rooms. Loud indistinct music. Cheap beer. Me dancing and trying to look sexy. That was before, now I feel like a fish out of water, standing awkwardly in a room full of mostly strangers.

Whenever I went to parties, I would drink and dance the night away, sometime make conversations with a few guys in hopes for free drinks. Then, I start fantasizing about meeting the guy of my dreams, and he would come in and sweep me off my feet. It's what I like to call, my Pretty Woman fantasy. Except instead of a hooker, I was Julia Roberts, a sexy woman who was born and raised in the bad part of town. A girl who never finished her A-levels, and would never amount to much in the grand scheme of things. Then one night after a few drinks, and intense dancing; I would go to the bar and there would be my Richard Gere, handsome, rich our eyes would meet and… Yeah, it was a crazy fantasy. It didn't take long for me to learn that there were more Jimmy's, than Richards' that went clubbing. That most the men that came to parties have only one thing on their mind, and it wasn't sweeping a girl off her feet.

I'm no longer that party girl, it holds no interest for me. I would much rather stay home with my friends watching movies, or playing cards.

I was never one who picked up men at a party. Or hooked up. Or made out. That only ever happened to me once, and that was Jimmy. I wonder sometimes if the years I wasted with him ruined me. I know that's a daft way of thinking, but the thought is always there in the back of my mind. Not all men are Jimmy. I'm ready and very willing to put all of that behind me.

This party isn't like going to a club, it's more like a gathering of people. It feels comfortable more my style if I have to go to a party, this would be the kind I would go too. I feel so old sometimes. Now my Wingmen are here with me to apparently make up for my shortcomings.

They flank me as we enter the building, it's a store with a friendly hand written sign is taped on the glass doors – "Closed early for private party!" White tea lights are wrapped artistically around the black letters of the sign that say's. Noble's books.

The lights are dim the shop feels cozy a place where one can go spend hours looking for just the right book. Nothing like the crazed wild boom of music and crazy dancing of the club. I forget sometimes that I am no longer a teenager sneaking into the bar, that parties now can actually sometimes, occasionally, be really pleasant. Significantly less sweaty and more civil I like this, I can handle parties like this.

Coiled rope lights on the tops of the shelves provide a little extra warm and friendly lighting, and overstuffed chairs are placed about the place with small round end tables, most likely for the customers that enjoy the comforts of reading in such a home style setting. Why have I never been here before? I have a sudden urge to sink down into the nearest chair, crack open one of my favourite books while drinking a steaming cup of hot coco.

Okay. I can handle this.

Rory grabs beer in dark bottles out of a tub of ice and cracks it open.

"Oh, no, thank you, Rory, but I don't drink," Clara says apologetically, "I guess I should have said so sooner."

He shrugs. "Not a problem," he says, holding two open bottles and drinking from one, "I'll just have to find a new friend to give this one too."

"Remember that we are here for Rose, not for us." Amy adjusts his collar, then smirks.

He holds one bottle in the crook of his elbow and presses his thumb against the cleft in her chin in affectionate gesture, and then he's gone.

I get Clara a pop and the three of us make our way towards the center of the store. The main register is there, and most people are clustered around it in small groups.

A pretty blonde woman is playing the guitar in the café area. Her voice is pretty and lilting. She has what sounds like a French accent? It's so hard to tell when someone's singing.

"Maybe we should sit?" I ask the two of them, pointing and what looks like the most comfortable, cozy reading nook I've ever seen. Plush purple and red cushions call out to me. My feet ache from working all day. What I wouldnt give to just sit down for just a little.

"Rule Number One, Rosie," Amy, grabs my arm, "stay on your feet. Tables and couches are for old boring couples and losers who've checked out of the game, not young single cats on the prowl."

"Which is what you are, Rose. A cat. Prowling," Clara offers making clawing motions with her hand.

I groan at the analogy, I certainly don't feel like a cat of any sort. "We're really doing this? You two weren't joking? There are rules?"

"Yes. No. And Yes." Amy winks.

"Is he here yet? Do you think he's here?" Clara twists and looks around with no sense of subtlety whatsoever and I seriously question my Wingmen's wisdom if they're so willingly accepted Clara's help. I love her and everything, but she doesn't exactly have a filter. Or maybe I'm just that desperate.

"Haha. Funny running into the three of you here."

"JACK!" We all say in unison.

Since the day I first met him, I have never stopped thinking that Jack looks like a supermodel. He's just… he is dashing, and suave without being a douche. And, the people he ends up with. Both men and women, I can't help but be slightly envious, okay really envious. Everyone loves Jack, hell I even love him. He's just that kind of guy.

"I didn't know you were going to be here, Jack?" Amy say's. Offering up a flirtatious smirk.

"I know the owner, nice lady. A bit brash, but she's one of the best poker player I've ever known." He laughs and takes a sip of what I believe to be scotch, "We should have a party like this sometime at Harkness I think. Make it an evening of coffee, tea and cocktails," he looks at me smirking, "look at you all dressed up and looking absolutely breathtaking."

"Whuh…" I shiver. When Jack Harkness calls you breathtaking it takes your breath away.

"She really is," Amy offers quickly, smirking behind the mouth of her beer.

He nods agreeably, "so who's the lucky guy? Or girl?"

"I uh, I don't… I mean."

The sound of a bell rings as the front door opens. Clara and I look, heads snapping around. Amy, thank god, is smoother.

It's not him.

"What time is it?" Clara asks.

"Umm," Jack checks his incredibly expensive watch, "10:07."

"Oh," she sighs.

"What?"

"I thought… well, wouldn't it be perfect if he came at 10:00?"

I blush. And feel really stupid, god help me, but that would be perfect. If I wrote this as a book, that's how I'd write it happening.

It would read on Page 200:

Rose runs her hands down her seductively voluptuous body, and stretched. Her firm and supple breasts rise with her arms arm up high.

'Welp. It's getting late.'

'It's only 10:00 pm' Amy shrieked.

Just then, the front doors swung wide and October air flooded in, crisp

and smelling like leaves and pumpkins and that funny nice October smell.

As the doors swung open, and there he was.

He pins Rose with an intense darken gaze.

'You're here,' he growled.

'You're here, too,' Rose replied coolly, sipping her strawberry margarita with an arched eyebrow.

The man in the doorway came forward and-

"Earth to Rose!"

"What?" Bloody hell, I'd be a terrible writer.

"Jack asked you a question," Clara nudges me.

"Pardon?"

"Can you work on Halloween?"

"Oh. Yeah. Of course. I mean, it might cut into my Trick-or-Treating, but… for you, Jack, anything."

"Anything huh?" he grins wiggling his eyebrows, I can feel the blush rising on my face.

"You'll have to wear a costume," Amy said.

"I do?"

"Company policy," Jack said, shrugging and smiling.

"Uh. Yeah… fine. Sure. Of course."

"Okay. Enough shop talk. My date is waiting for me, Good luck, kid." Jack winks at me, leaving us alone as he walks over to a guy in a dark suit who looks at Jack like he's the main course.

I glare at Amy. "What did you tell him?"

"Nothing. He's just… he sees everything, you know."

"Amy!" I groan as I feel a mild headache coming on.

We look over to where Rory is talking to an elderly man and a very annoyed looking redheaded woman in a festive teal dress. He waves us over.

"Wilfred," Rory says as we approach, "Donna, you both know my girlfriend, Amy."

The elderly man shakes Amy's hand, and the woman smiles warmly and gives Amy a strong hug.

"And these two work with her, over at Harkness. This is Rose and Clara."

We smile shake hands, say our hellos, nice to meet you, lovely place you've got. Clara asks where they got so many tea lights. It is actually very lovely. They have a nice place, and I'm having a nice time and drinking and conversing with people. We also meet the guest of honour, and I'm surprised that she remembers me. I wonder how close Sara Jane is to David, but I'm too nervous to ask. I have this nasty habit of turning and staring at the door like I'm paranoid every time someone new comes in, and it makes me think they couldn't be too close or he would be here by now.

Wednesday, 12:00 AM

Midnight comes and goes.

Wednesday, 1:00 AM

One O'clock comes and goes, I start to seriously doubt that David is going to show up at all.

Amy, seems to have accepted this fact as well. The three of us, Amy, Clara and I, now sit all together in the nook, Clara's legs drape over mine as she eats from a plate of cheese and crackers.

Rory, meanwhile, clearly found a new friend to give that beer too.

He is sits on the counter in the middle of the store, holding a glass between his hands and talking, very smirkily with a guy who is casually standing between his legs.

I keep watching them, like a creeper, without meaning to. He kisses Rory, and I look away blushing.

"Doesn't that bother you?" I ask Amy.

"Does what bother me, Rosie?" she asks texting and her face is illuminated by the screen of her phone.

"Rory, and you know."

She looks up and sees them. She watches intently for a moment, then looks back down at her phone, thumbs flying, "Listen, Rose, you're sweet. I love Rory and he loves me, we just like to add some spice to our relationship."

"It's just that, you both just seem… I don't know…"

"Happy?" Clara says, "Compatible?"

"We are, that's why we work so well together," Amy shrugs, "but we like what we have. It works for us it the key to our long lasting happiness. What can I say we love to share."

I look over at Rory and the guy, I can't help it. I keep watching them, which, to be fair, is partly because they are one of very few people left in the shop. And partly that I find two guys making out very hot.

"What I don't love is being the one who has to arrange another means of getting us all home when our ride is clearly too drunk to drive," she says flatly. Her phone buzzes.

"Ahh. Success! A trustworthy D.D. is so hard to find these days, but I've always got one to fall back on."

Amy manages to get Rory's eye for a moment and he smiles at her over the brunette's shoulder. I really don't understand how that doesn't bother her... I couldn't handle it, I'm a one guy sort of girl, and want the same from the guy I'm with.

Wednesday, 1:37 AM

We get up to leave.

We all huddle outside for about twenty minutes, Rory and his mystery man are pressed up against the wall, and I try very hard not to watch. Soon a silver minivan pulls up to the curb. The sliding door automatically slides open.

"I was asleep, Amy," a woman's grumbles from the driver's seat.

"But you came anyway. You're so sweet," Amy hops in first. "I owe you one Mels."

"You owe me more than one," she grumbles.

Amy laughs. "You should come out with us next time."

I see a flash of brown out of the corner of my eye and look.

A mass of wild brown hair in the dark, a long brown trench coat blows in the wind, and the light from the shop window casts a shadow on a lean figure. Oh, god it's him, he made it, and we're here together. And I'm slightly drunk, and he looks so good.

"Hey!" I shout a little too loudly, slapping my hand to my mouth. Don't mess this up Rose.

"Hi." His reply is soft, and I see a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

We just stand there, awkwardly, silently, as van idles in front of me and I'm so nervous and excited and happy that he's here.

"I, uh… I just got here." He said nervously rocking back on his heels.

"I see." I'm grinning like an idiot, I'm just so happy to see him.

"Yep," he makes that little pop sound at the end of the, p, and I melt a little inside. "I'm a little more than fashionably late," he steps closer, my heart is racing.

His hair is magical. Ugh. Shut up, brain!

"Are you in or out?" I hear from the front seat, gruffly.

"Oh, relax, Mels!" Amy hisses.

"Your friends are waiting," he smiles tilting his head towards the van.

This is one of those big life moments. In a movie, this is where the music would swell and I make the big decision, to stay or go. I see myself slamming the sliding door closed and banging on the side of the van. And staying. And talking. And kissing. And… I also see myself mumbling something about how sexy he is, and laughing awkwardly then climbing into the van and hanging my head in shame while Amy throttles me senseless from the back of the van.

"I."

"I'm sorry, Rosie. I'm drunk! Good night, have fun!" Amy cackles, acting much more, drunk than I know she is, and slides the door shut from the inside. Then we're standing here, glowing in the red tail lights as the van pulls away.

Just him and I… And Rory, as we hear him loudly and groaningly making out with the brunette guy. How did Amy manage to forget him? How did I forget him? I mean I know they have this open relationship thing, but to leave her boyfriend drunk with another guy… I'll never understand them, it's best not to try.

Some wingman he turned out to be.