Sorry for the delay! My writing time has severely decreased lately with my work hours going up like crazy. This is a short one, I'm hoping to have 3 out this week. Thank you all so much for reviewing and reading, and thank you ten thousand times to my betas silver, aaa, who_in_whoville, kelkat9, and timelord1. I couldn't get a single word written without them :-)

Rose shot up in her bed, breathing hard, images from her nightmare still assaulting her. The same awful creatures she'd fought were crawling through her dreams. Except this time, they weren't after her. Instead they had Martha, Mickey, and even Rose's mum, and no matter how hard Rose struggled, she couldn't get to them in time.

She'd left Henrik's and gone straight home, her mind whirring the entire trip. She had forgotten all about dinner and homework and had gone straight to bed, falling asleep after what felt like hours of tossing and turning. Then all she'd seen were horrific images of the same creatures she'd faced that day torturing her family and friends.

Still, one of them in particular had stood out, and it in fact had been his face that had sent her into her waking panic. He'd been practically snow-pale, his eyes were red and demonic, and he radiated power. He'd been far more terrifying than anything she'd ever seen in her life, and yet, she couldn't ever remember coming across him before.

Rose sighed, scrubbing her hands over her face. Despite her disturbed, relatively short night, she felt rested enough to start her day. She still spent it in a constant state of alert, unable to shake the distracting feeling that she was being watched or even followed.

Even her best friends, Martha and Mickey, noticed that she wasn't entirely herself. They had all met for lunch, and Rose had a hard time following the conversation.

"And then I threw on your old tutu, Martha, remember that one? From when we were five? Sorry, I think I may have torn it. But then I danced through the quad without anything else on and kept singing 'I'm a pretty pretty princess.' The Dean wasn't too happy."

Rose glanced sidelong at Mickey. "Oh you think you're so funny. Sorry, I know, I'm in another universe right now."

"You worried about classes?" Martha asked, taking a bite of her salad. Studying medicine had made the young woman a health nut, and she often lectured Rose on her preference for chips.

"Not...really..." Rose hesitated, not entirely sure if it was a good idea to tell them what had happened the night before. Martha and Mickey had been friends since childhood. Rose had only met them when they'd been in the same orientation group their first term, but they had been inseparable ever since. She didn't know if brilliant Martha or sweet, goofy Mickey would have her sectioned if she told them the truth. "I just...didn't sleep well last night."

"Oh, me either," Martha replied. "Kept getting nightmares about being chased by a giant syllabus, yelling 'final exam is worth 75% of your grade!' I don't need to be a psych major to know what that's all about."

Mickey grinned and seemed about to respond when Rose's mobile started ringing from her pocket. Confused, she retrieved it and noticed that the number was a university extension. She clicked the phone on and, still puzzled, brought it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Is this Rose Tyler?"

"Yes…?"

"Miss Tyler, my name is Donna Noble. Your bag is currently taking up a ridiculous amount of space in my office and it would be fan-bloody-tastic if you could come retrieve it before we all die of old age, 'kay?"

Rose was taken aback but, at the same time, fighting the urge to smile at the sassy woman on the phone. "I'm sorry…how did you get my bag?"

"I don't ask questions, sunshine, I just do as I'm told. Someone might need this chair, you know, the one your bag is keeping well-occupied."

"Right, right," Rose replied. "I'll…come get it now I guess? Where are you?"

"Fifth floor College Hall. Parapsychology Department. Thanks, sweetheart."

"No-" the phone went silent before Rose could even finish her response. She stared at it, confused, before mumbling, "-problem," and sliding it back into her pocket. She shouldered the rucksack she'd been using in place of her usual messenger and turned to Martha and Mickey. "Looks like someone found my bag. I'm just…gonna go, I guess. I'll see you later?"

The both offered casual good-byes and Rose headed in the direction of the building, not one she usually took classes in but still familiar on the small campus. She took the elevator to the fifth floor, which opened up immediately to a set of blue double doors labeled "Department of Parapsychology and Metaphysical Studies. Chair, Dr. John Smith."

Rose sighed. Of course, with the way the past few days had gone, this was where she would find Dr. Smith again.

She pushed open the door and gasped, the room looking disproportionately larger on the inside. It took up two floors and was filled to the brim with bookshelves, tables, storage cabinets, and both comfortable and not-so-comfortable looking chairs. A standard-issue university desk sat tucked to one side of the door, where a red-headed woman was typing briskly at a state-of-the-art computer system.

A separate door sat back a bit from the desk and, as Rose's eyes drifted towards it, she smirked. Dr. Smith was lounging in the doorway, arms crossed, dressed almost exactly the same as he'd been the night before except he was wearing a navy jumper instead of dark hunter green. He smirked right back at her and Rose suddenly had to fight back the urge to wipe the cocky expression off his face by any means necessary.

"You know, you didn't have to resort to stealing," she told him teasingly, crossing her arms over her chest. "If you wanted to get me into your office, all you had to do was ask."

"Oh, I like her," the woman who was presumably Donna Noble said without looking up from her task.

Dr. Smith shot her a look before turning back to Rose. "Well, Rose Tyler, fact is I still had your bag." He picked up Rose's messenger from a nearby chair and held it out towards her. "Would be rude of me to keep it from you. You might miss your copy of Twilight after all."

"Oi!" Donna interjected. "Don't knock it. Taylor Lautner makes a damn fine werewolf."

Dr. Smith rolled his eyes. "Donna, I say this with all due respect, but could you please shut it? Just for a moment?"

Donna rolled her eyes right back but remained silent. Rose stifled her grin before once more addressing Dr. Smith. "As if I would read Twlight anyway. I'm a Harry Potter girl all the way."

"Good," he smiled at her. "Horribly inaccurate anyway, those books. As if vampires sparkle. Complete bollocks."

"And how would you know what a vampire looks like?"

"You do," he retorted, regarding her seriously. "You saw three of them last night."

"Right," Rose snorted. "They were vampires. And I'm the bloody queen. Nice to meet you."

Dr. Smith regarded her seriously, but didn't respond.

"Oh, come off it!" Rose laughed. "Seriously? Vampires? Have you been down at pub? 'S barely noon, mate."

"Donna, could you hold my calls?"

"Hold your own bloody calls, Doctor, I'm going to lunch," Donna sassed back, pushing a button on the phone and shutting down her desktop.

Dr. Smith once again rolled his eyes. Rose had a feeling that this was a regular occurrence between the odd pair.

"You better watch out or your face will get stuck that way," Rose offered.

"Fantastic. Now I've got two women ganging up on me."

"And you need it," Donna told him as she breezed out the blue doors. Rose heard the click of the lock before she turned back to the man in front of her.

"Dr. Smith-" she began.

"Doctor."

"What?"

"Just 'the Doctor'. Or 'Doctor' if you prefer."

Rose shook her head. "That's not even a proper name. I can't call you 'Doctor.'"

"Sure you can. Everyone does."

"Yeah, well, I'm a rebel."

"Fine," Dr. Smith huffed before stepping to the side and gesturing gallantly at his office. "Miss Tyler, if you would follow me into my office, I'd be happy to explain everything."

"Please," she replied, trying hard to reign in her sarcasm as she plucked her bag from his hand and entered the small room. It was dim, with hazy daylight filtering in through the closed blinds, and crowded. The walls were lined with shelves and broadcasted various framed certificates and diplomas, though they were uneven and looked in need of a good dusting.

As she surveyed the room, she realized there wasn't a single bare surface. Everywhere Rose looked, there were oddly-shaped bottles filled with mysterious liquid and labeled with odd, concentric circles that she supposed made sense to Dr. Smith, random bric-a-brac, and several objects that she couldn't even begin to identify except for the small, snowy stuffed owl tucked up on one of the shelves. Even his desk was cluttered with books, scrolls, cogs, bits of wire and what seemed to be an assortment of tools she could never even hope to recognize.

Dr. Smith grabbed the pile of papers off one of the chairs and gestured quickly for her to sit down. He began rooting around in his desk drawers, pulling out a heavy volume before coming back to her and plopping it down on one of the only clear areas of the desk. It was huge and practically ancient, with the word "VAMPYR" brandished across the cover.

Rose could practically feel the blood draining from her face. This couldn't be real. None of this could possibly be real. She felt her jaw drop and she turned to stare at Dr. Smith, who was perched on the edge of his desk and regarding her seriously.

"Little humans," he murmured, shaking his head. "Always last to believe what is right in front of you. You fought them, you watched them turn to dust. You woke up yesterday inexplicably stronger, faster. And yet you still try to find the most rational explanation."

"What do you mean, 'humans'?" Rose blurted out, startled at the fact that she was choosing to focus on that detail. "Are you saying…you're not?"

"Not entirely," he told her. "That all right?"

"Yeah…" Rose replied, surprised at how easily the response came.

She watched as something like relief spread across his face. He pushed back off the desk and leaned against one of his shelves. "I'm a Watcher, descendent from an ancient race of beings that have been helping protect humanity for eons. I was placed here because of you. To train you, to teach you."

"Why me?" Rose asked, her voice sounding small even to her own ears.

"In every generation there is a chosen one-"

Rose gasped, recognizing the words from her dreams.

"She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer."