Thanks to every reviewer, I really appreciate it! Here's the next update.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

Rose made her way into her office on Monday morning, nearly shaking with anticipation. This was it. Her dad had given her the trust to carry out this mission on her own, and she wasn't going to disappoint.

The Torchwood back home had traced the point of impact when the universes began to collide together. Oddly, they located the source in the centre of London, just a few blocks from Downing Street. They'd already cancelled out the possibility that it was Slitheen, as Rose had suggested.

Torchwood had already secured Rose a job at Harold Saxon's office, an aspiring MP with big hopes for his career. Rose had never met him, but over the weekend she'd searched his name over the Internet, and came up with a pretty accurate description for what her temporary job was going to be like.

She entered through the glass doors slowly, noticing the young receptionists first. They looked up at her, their expressions becoming interested.

"Hello, welcome to Harold Saxon's office. How may we help you?" The chirpy blonde on the left asked happily. Rose smiled. Finding out information wouldn't be too hard if the rest of the employees were as cheery as this receptionist was.

"Uh, hi, my name's Rose Tyler, I'm startin' as Harold's assistant today," Rose responded. The redhead arched an eyebrow sardonically. She gave Rose the one over, her eyes burning with disapproval as she took in the dark roots and the slightly creased clothes. The creases, Rose couldn't help. She'd only arrived in this world on Saturday, and was soon hurried off to a flat. She didn't have time to whip out the iron.

"His rooms right in there," The redhead, who, on inspection, Rose found out was called Tracey, jerked her chin at the office next to the reception. Rose glanced at the door and read the name. 'Harold Saxon'.

"Oh, yeah," Rose laughed, slightly embarrassed, "The room that says his name. That makes sense."

"S'not your fault!" The blonde, Emily, giggled affably, "You've never been here before!" She turned to Tracey, who was checking her nails, completely unamused, "Should I take her in...?"

Tracey shrugged, which Emily took as a 'yes'. Rose bit her tongue before she said something about manners to Tracey. She didn't want the tread on anyone's toes, especially not on the first day. She was there to find out information, and disliking someone wouldn't help. Instead, Rose flashed her a friendly smile, to which Tracey was slightly startled by. She managed a reluctant twist of her mouth, which Rose supposed could qualify as a smile of sorts. Emily ushered Rose over to the door, and knocked on it gently.

"Mr Saxon?" Her voice became timid, put Rose picked up on the flirtatious tone. She stopped herself from laughing, composing herself as she prepared to meet her new boss.

"Emily! How many times!" The door swung open fully, as Harold Saxon stood there, beaming, "Call me Harry."

Emily flushed, and Rose could see why. Although 'Harry' wasn't exactly her type, he was handsome enough, with short brown hair and well defined features. But there was an aura about him that you noticed instantly. Rose couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.

His eyes swerved to Rose, and they lit up with curiosity. Emily noticed, and she looked at Rose, grinning.

"This is Rose Tyler, she says she's your new assistant," Emily introduced them with a flourish of her hands. Harry's forehead creased as he tried to remember, before nodding in recognition. He extended an arm.

"Ah yes! I wondered when you were going to get here."

"Sorry about that. I got lost. I only moved to London on Saturday. It won't happen again," Rose promised, inwardly praising herself. Her lying skills were improving. She hadn't stuttered once!

"It's OK. Thanks, Emily," Harry smiled, before inviting Rose in and shutting the door on the receptionist. He offered her a chair, and Rose perched awkwardly on the edge, not sure what to say or do. "So," Harry began, settling in his chair, "Where did you live before?"

"What?"

"Where did you live before you moved to London?" Harry repeated, a smile playing on his lips.

"Oh, just...further up north. Near Birmingham," Rose responded offhandedly.

"You don't sound like you're from Birmingham," Harry noted. Rose winced silently; she knew she should've planned out a back-story that she could stick to.

"Well, my parents were from London originally. And I didn't actually live in Birmingham. It's a long story," Rose flapped her hand trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably. Whether Harry noticed or not, he moved onto his policies and what he expected from her, as his assistant. Rose tuned out to this, her mind with a man she'd tried to block out for the past year. Maybe he was near. He didn't know she'd come back, but how could she get to him? And even if she did reach him, what would she say? Maybe he's moved on, and maybe he didn't want her anymore. It was...understandable. It'd break her heart, but what else could she do?

These questions and situations began to spill out the box Rose'd put them in when she'd been shoved in the parallel world, but they were too painful to think about now, when it was all possible. She snapped back to reality when Harry had asked her if she understood everything. She nodded.

"Absolutely."

A month later, Rose found herself in a predicament.

She loved her job, despite it being only a cover up for the real mission. First and foremost, she was on a mission for Torchwood, which she'd been placed on in absolute trust from her father. And while she was trying to find out what exactly was going on, she found herself getting sidetracked.

First, there was Emily. Emily had become her best friend during the course of a few weeks, as Rose found her easy to get on with, and took her mind off other subjects. They'd go out shopping together, clubbing together; Rose'd even socialized with Emily's group of friends. But she couldn't open up to Emily, which frustrated her. Back when she was a teenager, her friends had been the ones Rose had relied on to spill her heart out to, but it was impossible to tell Emily about the extraordinary life she'd led. Whenever Emily asked Rose about her family, or her boyfriends, or her friends, Rose's eyes would glaze over as she answered that they were all back in Birmingham, before changing the conversation. Someday, Emily would get fed up with that, but Rose hoped that it wasn't someday soon.

Then, there was Harry. He'd taken her under his wing, the gentleman he was, and taught her everything she'd needed to know about politics. Rose'd find herself being so absorbed in his work, that she'd occasionally forget the real reason she was there. She'd been round his house for dinner informally. Rose found it odd being followed by the paparazzi, as Harry was a celebrity in the political world. Rose had managed, so far, not to be seen out with Harry though, and this was for the best. If any of her old friends looked at the papers and saw her face, too many questions would be raised. The most obvious blared in her head everyday.

"How come you're not dead?!?"

But Harry made up for all that. He made her laugh, and made her feel special again. She wasn't in love with him. She'd told herself she couldn't love again until she'd got some sort of closure from the Doctor. The close bond she had with Harry made Tracey despise her; it turned out that Tracey actually had her eye on him herself, but then Rose'd swooped in and claimed her prize.

But other that that, life was going great, more so than in her other world. She missed her parents, and Mickey, and Jake, and heck, she even missed Rachel, the cow. But she hadn't finished her work. She was still no closer to the answer that she'd been at the beggining.

And she hadn't found him yet.

Rose set down her glass of wine and waited for Harry. She yawned, but not out of boredom. It had been a long week, and she was glad that Friday was finally here. She'd spent the night before fretting about her first real date with Harry. They were doing exactly what they normally did, except this time, it was official. Her eyes roved over his living room, a picture of neatness and perfection. The huge sofa took up half the room, facing a plasma telly in the corner. Rose sunk further into the comfortable chair, closing her eyes and drifting off.

Her eyes fluttered open sometime later, the smell of lasagne filling the air. Harry was hovering over her, grinning.

"Boring you, am I?" He teased, taking a seat next to her. Rose jolted awake and rubbed her eyes.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry! What kind of date am I?" Rose groaned, as Harry handed her a plate filled high with food. It smelt delicious, but it didn't stop Rose feeling bad. Harry chuckled and took a sip of his wine.

"I'll answer that at the end of the night," He winked. Rose flushed, looking down and spearing her fork into the lasagne. They ate in a pleasant silence, the only sound the soft clinking of cutlery as the food was devoured. "What d'you think?" He asked, once Rose'd taken her last bite. Rose nodded, chewing thoughtfully.

"You are a man of many talents," She decided, putting the fork and plate on the coffee table and retrieving her wine. Harry paused, smiling, before doing the same and filling his glass up. He offered the bottle to her, but she stretched and declined.

"I have to drive back."

"You don't have to," Harry suggested, a devilish glint in his eyes. Rose halted; the rim of her glass just touching her lips. Harry cleared his throat upon seeing her reaction, and averted his eyes away, "I mean, if you want to. I've got a spare room if you want. You can stay in there. I dunno," He stuttered. Rose considered this for a moment. Her response surprised Harry, and herself.

"Yeah. I think I will, if you don't mind...?"

"No, it's fine!" Harry insisted.

"Thank you," Rose mumbled, swirling the wine around instead of catching his gaze. He lent back in the sofa, and suddenly, the awkwardness disappeared. They began to chat about work, and what was on the telly, and just life in general. Rose'd previously found this kind of chat with Mickey or Jake or any other colleague to be dreary, but with Harry, it was different. She was actually enjoying the company of a man for the first time in a year. And she had no idea why.

The hours flew by. As it turned midnight, Rose felt her eyelids drooping. She shifted her eyes to the mantelpiece, where a tiny object was positioned in a glass box. She frowned.

"What's that?" She asked, pointing over at the object. Harry followed her gaze.

"Oh that? It's a family heirloom. A fob watch. It's nothing special, it doesn't even work. You can have a look, it you want," He got up and grabbed the box, pulling the watch out and presenting it to her. Rose took it carefully, examining the delicate design. "I've got no idea what the pictures are," Harry informed her, as her finger lightly traced the pattern, "I don't think it means anything special."

"It's beautiful," Rose declared softly, mesmerized.

"Not as much as you," Harry countered shyly. Rose turned the fob watch in her palm, contemplating. If she and Harry were to get together, what would happen?

It'd distract her from the mission. She could practically hear Pete shouting objections in her head, which she tries to ignore. But then, if they did get together, she could also gain information from him. It was a risky move, but Harry was harmless. Definitely.

And the Doctor? Well, he'd probably moved on. He'd want her to be happy.

Rose lay her wine glass to the side and placed a hand on Harry's cheek tenderly.

"Rose, you don't have to-"

"Shhh," Rose ordered quietly, pressing her lips to his.

"Oh my god!" Emily squealed on Monday through their lunch break. Rose put her fingers to her lips hurriedly, so Emily quietened down, her mouth forming a perfect circle of shock. "You and Harry? I mean, I knew you guys were friends and everything, but I didn't know you were like that! What's he like? Kissing wise?"

Rose rolled her eyes, tucking into her salad, "Hey, I don't kiss and tell, Em. And he's still your boss!"

"He's your boss as well, but that didn't stop you getting a little bit...closer," Emily nudged the blushing blonde in the ribs, "Oh, Tracey'll be so pissed off when I tell her! But it's her fault. She should've made her move earlier."

Rose's eyes widened in alarm, "You can't tell anyone, OK? Not Tracey, not your boyfriend, not anyone! This is between you, me and Harry!" She threw the paper she'd been reading on the bench in exasperation.

"OK, fine!" Emily raised her hands in mock defeat, before giggling, "How many boyfriends have you had? Or is Harry the first?" Rose stiffened, toying with her fork as Emily waited for a reply. Sighing, Rose stabbed the salad and knew that she couldn't avoid these questions any longer.

"My first boyfriend was at 15. Mickey Smith. He was absolutely lovely to me, but...I didn't treat him very well," Memories flashed before her eyes, mostly of Mickey's face crumpled with pain and betrayal. "But then I met another man, Jimmy Stone," She pierced the salad again, this time harder, "But he was an idiot, and he left me. So, I dated Mickey again. But then I met this man," Rose couldn't help but smile. She hadn't talked about the Doctor in so long, but it felt natural, "This wonderful, brilliant man and he took me away. We travelled everywhere. I loved it. I loved him," Rose paused, her smile disappearing as her jaw hardened with suppressed emotion, "But then I moved away before I had that chance to say goodbye properly."

Emily's eyes were misty when Rose'd finished. Sniffing, she reached for a tissue, "Oh, Rose! That's so heartbreaking! How long ago was this?"

"A year ago."

Emily suddenly frowned, "But I thought you only moved to London a few weeks ago."

"Uh, I did, but before that I was studying somewhere else. What about you, how many boyfriends have you had?" Rose desperately changed the subject. Emily then proceeded to prattle on about Tom, Daniel, Micheal, Jon, and whoever else. Rose's mind was faraway, thinking about her own experiences.

"So listen, there's this new club thing tonight. I know it's a Monday, and we've got work tomorrow, but you've got to check it out with me! You can invite Harry too, if you want," Emily offered, peeling her banana skin. Rose had to refuse. She still had some serious scoping to do, before she contacted her dad later that evening. Emily pouted, "Why not?"

"I'm really tired, and to be honest, I'm not in the mood for clubbin'," Rose heaved a convincing sigh as she binned her salad cartoon. Emily rolled her eyes.

"Some other time though?"

"Yeah, course," Rose pledged. Both girls got up from the bench and made their way to the office.

What they didn't hear was the TARDIS arriving a few minutes later next to the bench. The Doctor opened the door, inhaling the Earth smell and smiling. He'd finally done it, after two attempts and saving a planet on the way, he'd got the right co-ordinates.

"Oh, this is bleedin' Hyde Park, you idiot!" His companion, the fiery Donna Noble exclaimed.

"It's still London, isn't it?" The Doctor reasoned. Donna fell into a grump, folding her arms and curving her upper lip. The Doctor looked at her and gave up, "Oh, alright. We won't have a nice stroll around London then, just in case we come across an alien trying to take over. Let's not save the world today."

"Oh god, you're so-" Donna didn't finish her sentence, as she noticed an abandoned paper lying across the bench. She went over, "What's happening in London today then? We'll check for any missin' people or any mysterious sightings of strange creatures, then will you be happy?"

The Doctor grimaced, but agreed. Donna opened the newspaper and scanned the headlines. The Doctor glanced away, before something caught his eye. Turning to look at the paper, his heart filled with dread. He grabbed the paper off Donna.

"Oi!" She moaned, slapping him. But the Doctor was too absorbed in the headline. He pocketed the newspaper and marched into the TARDIS, Donna following swiftly behind.

"What is it? What's wrong? Where are we goin'?" She demanded, as he stormed around the TARDIS console, eyes firmly on the controls. Donna gave up as he punched in the co-ordinates for an unknown destination.