Disclaimer: We Don't Own it. I have internet trouble though. Costa has been my Saaaaviahh! ; )

Okay, Chapter 3 was the most epic collaborative effort.

PS. If you miss the Doctor who references, google Matt Smith and David Tennant. It'll enhance this chapter ridiculously. (PPS - Don't Blink!)

Chapter 3 RPOV

I headed over to the SU in trepidation, trying not to give myself false hope. How many student bands had I seen in the last year? They were notoriously awful, and I wasn't expecting this one to be any different, though I suppose going in with preconceived ideas about the poor guys I was going to destroy, was a little bit too harsh. Fully justified after the drivel I'd been subjected to, though.

There was already a fair crowd gathered when I made my way to the bar. I was surprised to see the rowers here; they never usually came to these shindigs. They weren't big drinkers, especially during the season which, if I wasn't wrong, had just started. A couple of them turned as I looked across at them, and I looked pointedly away, because I knew a couple of them, and they were bawdy bastards on the rare occasion they got plastered.

I made my way to the bar and ordered a drink from Leah, one of the girls that worked the bar with me at the weekends. Just as I had paid, the band ambled onto the stage, looking as if they had just woken up. I cast my critical eye over them, scruffy buggers. This didn't look promising, I had to admit.

"Hey, we're Don't Blink. Thanks for coming tonight." The youngest and least scruffy looking spoke into the mic, running a hand slowly through his blonde hair. He wielded his guitar as if he actually knew what he was doing, which immediately stunned me because it was a sight I was unused to. Without any fanfare, or epic introductions, the large room was suddenly full of drums and guitar riffs.

Ten minutes was all it took to change my mind on student bands for good. These guys were brilliant – their songs were funny, very lyrical, almost poetic, and annoyingly addictive. I sat at the bar scribbling away in my unreadable shorthand as another member of the band asked the audience for ideas for improv songs, not fearing the groping hands of the women around him. Out of nowhere, the band launched into a song which seemed to be about apple juice, but had come from one word. Whiskey. I began to look at them in a new light.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sure you all know this piece of music – we've named ourselves because a couple of us," The blonde stared at the drummer and his bassist, his eyebrows raised a little condescendingly, "Have a little bit of a man-crush on The Doctor himself."

"Long live the Tenth!" The drummer yelled, "Matt Smith has shit hair!"

"Who wears a bow tie these days, anyway?" The Bassist chimed in, smirking as he tugged at his own, checkered tie.

"Well, Jerad," The blonde singer muttered into the mic, tugging on his collar, "Looks like I do."

Completely unsure of how to take that, I was stunned by the way they burst into the Dr. Who theme tune, and kept it going adding an extra beat underneath until half of the crowd was laughing and dancing and the other half were staring at the boys bouncing onstage like they were possessed.

I'd never seen a band like this enjoy themselves so much on stage. They were usually so serious and into their "art" to actually have fun in what they do. These guys were a breath of fresh air and I could really see them having a long term career out of this if they kept their shows like this. The audience participation was inspired. I rolled my eyes as I spotted a group of girls had jimmied their way to the front row and were gazing up at the band like stupid teenagers. Which they probably were.

I turned to get myself another drink when my notepad was knocked out of my hand. A tiny dark haired girl bent to pick it up.

"I'm so sorry. I really need to look where I'm going." Her voice was musical and sickeningly cheerful – she looked so ridiculous, that I'd swear she was bouncing as she handed me my pad. "I'm Mary-Alice by the way. Aren't you the girl who writes for the Magdalene paper?" Did she actually breathe during that sentence?

"Hi, Rose." I held out my hand for my pad but she must have misread the signal and took it in her own. I froze, and suddenly she withdrew her hand, her eyes darkening a little bit.

"Oops, sorry, here." She finally handed me my pad. I looked at her eyes to check if she'd taken anything. Everything looked kosher, but it wasn't natural, no one was that chirpy. "What do you think of the band then?" Did she ever stop?

"They're ok." I was deliberately vague. I didn't want anyone to know what I thought until the paper had gone to press. I'd always been like that, but it looked as though it wasn't going to work on this girl.

"I think they're pretty good, you know – I mean, Jasper, the guy who's up there, he's got awesome skills on the guitar, and oh! His Bassist! Very, very Tennant-Who, no matter what anybody says – the same suit, everything – he must be a fanboy," She paused for breath and looked over at Leah, who was staring at the pair of us in a confused, almost downright rude, manner. "Hey! Lee!" She blinked twice and glanced at the Mary-Alice hummingbird-girl. "Can I get two Strawberry Daiquiris please?" A pause, "Put it on the Club's tab?" She glanced at me, "You like strawberries, right?"

"Er, I guess so."

"Good. Drink up." She patted my arm lightly and I looked down at my pad again, wondering if this kid was trying to rob me or something, "Do you want to watch the rest of the set with us?" She waved her arm vaguely toward the area the rowers were sitting in.

"I'd rather not." She glanced up at me, frowning slightly, "I mean, I don't really like plastered rowers. They're worse than plastered fifteen year olds." She laughed again, something I could quite easily get used to, and shook her head.

"No! Silly!" I imagined grabbing her and throttling her as she stood there, grinning, "Emmett and I aren't sitting with them tonight! I'm trying to hide from Jasper." She explained it as though she was trying to explain quantum physics to a two year old – slowly and patronizingly. "We've got a booth at the back. Come on…" She grabbed my hand and practically dragged me toward the low-lit booths at the back of the bar; forcing me to slide in next to a man I guessed was about seven feet tall.

"Oh, hello," He said absently, "You're not Alice." He craned his neck for the tiny girl as though he was concerned somebody would abduct her.

"No, I'm Rosalie."

"Oh." He said, then finally looked down at me, his eyes widening to the size of a coaster. "Hello, Rose. I'm Emmett." He extended his hand, but I merely looked at him, "Sorry, Alice is in a whole crock of shit tonight. I'm a little worried about her."

"Yeah, she's… er," I tried to remember how she had termed it, "Avoiding James? Jason? Jasper!" I clicked my fingers as I remembered. "I think she went back to the bar to get our drinks."

"Oh, right." And that was it. We were silent for a while, but it wasn't awkward, and, unlike the hummingbird, we didn't need to fill it with mindless chatter. We watched the band, and I started to take notes less and less as I looked at him. First, I just glanced – it was pretty nice to be able to sit next to someone like him without the whole 'I'm gonna try to cop a feel' thing going on, and I wouldn't lie and tell you he was unattractive. "Do you like them?" He said at the next lull in the music, Hummingbird-Alice still missing in action. "The band, I mean."

"They're a scruffy breath of fresh air." I shouted back, over the opening riff of only the second cover of the evening, or so they said, "And they like the Doctor, always a bonus."

"Don't Blink," He said, as though he was mulling it over, "I like them, they're good."

And as though it was some kind of jinx on their ability, there was a faltered, flat note, and the singer, Jasper, I think Alice had said, stopped singing and stared out into the crowd.

"Oh. Shit." He muttered into the mic, then as he remembered where he was he began to strum again, slipping back into the rhythm of the song easily.

Two minutes later, Alice, with panic written across her face, swept around the tables filled with the boys from the Rowing Club and reached us, tearing around like a hurricane.

"Ali? What happened?"

"I have to leave." She shouted, "Before the end of the song, I have to leave." She looked up at the band again, and ducked her head, shaking it, "Fuck, I have to leave." She looked at Emmett, then back at me, eyes wide and blazing with fear. "I'll see you at the trials tomorrow," She said, "Have a good one."

She leant over and kissed his cheek, then looked at me, grinned widely and wrapped her tiny arms around me, her grip surprisingly strong.

"It was nice meeting you, Rose," I nodded a 'likewise', and she smiled even wider, "I'm sorry I have to go, I'll see you again, I'm sure."

And with that, she grabbed her bag and jacket, and practically sprinted out of the bar, wrapping her arms around herself like a mini tornado.

"Okay, that was weird." I looked at Emmett for some kind of comfort, "Is she okay?"

"She's gone." Emmett said, "She'll be fine, I think."

JPOV

She was here. Mary-Alice Brandon was here. Fuck.

I avoided the looks on the other guys faces as I apologized, found my place and carried on as if nothing had happened. But something had. She had. They didn't see my eyes, locked on Alice, following her every move. Singing away, I watched her go and speak to the big mountain of a man – Emmett, I think, hug a blonde girl and practically sprint out of the SU.

Shit! It was a complete surprise that she had showed, but I didn't want her to run out because of me. I'd speak to Emmett later, see if I could find out where she lived, go and straighten everything out.

The rest of the set finished without any major hiccups, even though my mind was on other things. We finished to a huge cheer and shouts for more, but we didn't provide – we had overrun anyway, and Edward always told us to "Keep 'em wanting more". We swiftly packed our gear away and headed to the bar, a drink was very definitely in order.

"Hey dude!" The yell came from across the bar, but before I could blink, the voice was right behind me, "That was fucking fantastic." My knees nearly gave way as Emmett's huge hand clapped me hard on the back. I smiled weakly, waiting for the interrogation that was sure to come.

"Thanks." I introduced Emmett to the guys, mainly because that way they would have a name to give to the police when I disappeared suddenly in the middle of the night. There was silence behind me, and I cringed, waiting for the pummeling that was sure to come. It didn't, and very slowly, I turned to look at him. He had taken a pen and paper from the blonde girl, and she was looking at him, more than a little confused as he shoved the sheet at me.

"Here's her address. Go get shit sorted." I glanced down at the page, and, indeed, there was a scribbled address in the centre. "See you at the meet tomorrow." With a nod, he took the blonde by the arm and they left the bar. Pretty soon, it was midnight, and I was alone with the dark haired girl behind the bar.

I finished my drink and caught myself in the mirror that backed the bar. No, I didn't want to be alone. I reckoned I should go and get myself a Pixie.

How would you hide away from the world?

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