Huge thanks to veritascara for fixing this chapter for me.

We meet Rose's AI, Sherlock is home and drags John out on investigation.

-0-

The woman on the street might not have caught the throw, but a camera did. Sitting back, the spider in his web watched the video. It was odd, this stranger who didn't exist, using something so ordinary to save some bit of nothing and not stopping to gain any reward.

The slight distortion on the video around her form–it didn't seem to be around anyone but her. No matter which camera caught it, it was still there. Yes, this woman bore watching.

~~~~~

Rose slipped into her hotel room, dropping her backpack onto the bed. It wasn't a horribly posh place, just someplace decent enough that she didn't have to worry about the condition the room was in when she got there. She was by no means the spoiled society princess she could have become with Pete's money and position in his universe. Instead, between Torchwood training and some of the more interesting accommodations that the Doctor had landed them in, the hotel was practically the lap of luxury. Granted, she had been in some very luxurious places, but she wasn't fussy, and her needs were simple.

Carefully opening her backpack up, she fished out her new cell phone and set up to charge it. Picking up a cell phone was easy enough, and she had enjoyed finding one that would suit all of her needs. In a fit of whimsy, she'd bought a blue casing that was almost the exact shade of the TARDIS. She missed the ship who had been as much a friend as she'd been a home. This was just a little way to carry some of those memories with her.

That done, she pulled out her laptop and sat cross-legged on the bed. Carefully settling it on her lap, she ran her finger along the biometric lock. Recognizing her DNA, the lock opened, and the laptop's screen flashed to life. With a small smile, her fingers deftly flew across the keys in the pattern programmed to activate the AI's vocal interface. "Hello, IDRIS. What did you find for me today?"

"Hello, Rose. Several analyses are complete. Would you like me to summarize them for you?" She smiled to hear her Doctor's voice. The first time it had happened, it hurt, and she had immediately turned it off, swapping it for a more generic female voice. Then one day, just wanting to hear him talking to her, she restored it. It had stung a bit, hearing his voice again, but time had lessened the ache. Every day it got a bit easier, and it helped her feel like a part of him was still with her, which is probably what he had intended when he built it.

"Yes, please. No priority on order. It's not like I'm in a rush." With a small shrug, Rose scooted back on the bed, wedging the pillow up behind her to lean against.

"Weeeeeellllllll, it should be a rather simple endeavor to create your identity and insert it into the systems. This is especially true since you have the teleporter you could use after hours to insert hard copies into the appropriate files." Rose heard a slight hesitancy in the AI's Doctor's voice and gave a small quirk of her lips.

"I sense a complication coming here," she responded dryly.

"Yep," the AI replied, popping the p the same way the Doctor always had. But underneath, she could hear a slight unhappiness in its voice. "It seems either I tripped something in my searches, or someone else did, as the systems are now on high alert."

"Well, isn't that just wizard." Rose refrained from groaning. Of course, nothing could ever be simple. "Well, let's put that on hold for the moment. We have time, after all. Maybe if nothing happens, they'll relax, and we can resume."

Brightening slightly, another idea occurred to Rose. "IDRIS, set some of your own security measures in place to track another hacker. If we catch someone doing something they shouldn't, might earn us a bit of goodwill. Either way, it is a good idea to make sure no one is coming after you."

"Easily done. Some of the security systems already tried to come after me. I'm afraid I was a bit cleverer than they expected." The AI's tone bore a touch of smugness. "I am brilliant, after all."

Rose couldn't quite help laughing at that. "Well, your tech is more advanced than anything they're going to see for centuries." Mentally shifting plans around, she moved to the next item. "Alright, what do you have for me on tech?"

"The good news is I'm pretty sure some of the lowest level items we brought with us will be highly marketable. They will only be a hair above the level they are at now, so it won't be interfering with the development of this universe at all. We have enough designs stored on the hard drive to make us useful for quite some time. Now, there is one small snag. There are hints of computer systems that are kept isolated. I really don't know what tech is on those," it replied, sounding almost apologetic now.

"Isolated. Hmmm, means you need a physical link-up to access." Mulling it over out loud, Rose continued, "We can cope with that. Be as discreet as you can, but find me the best possible company or person to negotiate with. If we have to physically get into a location, we have options–either somehow getting in during the day or using the transport at night."

"I can always shut down security cameras for the whole building in a way that makes it look like a glitch." The smugness returned to the AI's tone. "That way, if we have to jump in at night, they don't see where we end up."

"Hopefully we won't have to use it, but good to know. Alright, I s'pose everything is good for now." Rose tried not to sigh, looking out of the window of her hotel room. "Just keep an eye out for snoops and work on those items."

Her eyes dropped and landed on the charging phone. A small smile twitched her lips. "You said history here is almost identical to universe prime, correct?"

"Just about," the AI answered cheerfully.

"I think I found an interesting difference. Look up a blog for me on a John Watson–Dr. John Watson. It will talk about solving cases with one Sherlock Holmes." Rose waited for the AI's reaction.

"Those are fictional characters, Rose," The AI returned, its voice a bit flat.

"Apparently they are real people here."

"Really?" it said, with bright traces of excitement, reminding Rose of how enthused her Doctor could be. "I found it. You are correct; there is a blog of a John Watson. Would you like me to read it out loud for you?"

"Please." Rose relaxed back as it began reading to her, basking in the sound of her Doctor's voice washing over her. He was still looking after her, even now. She couldn't let herself forget, though, that he wasn't really here; she was essentially on her own. Still, for this moment she could close her eyes and picture the last time he had read to her, like a remembered piece of a vibrant dream.

~~~~~

The next day, when John got home from the surgery, he was greeted by the sight of his flatmate hunched over a laptop. Not an unusual sight in itself, except for the fact that Sherlock was actually using his own laptop for a change. "How was your trip, then?"

Pulling off his coat, John hung it up, watching as Sherlock remained bent over the laptop. "I hate airports–far too busy, ridiculous flight schedules. A five-year-old could do better scheduling."

"Your flight was delayed, then. Always annoying. Did you at least manage not to annoy the pilot and the flight attendants this time?" John moved behind the other man to take a quick look at the screen. Sherlock appeared to be accessing a lot of sites rapidly, making it difficult to figure out what he was actually doing.

"Why do people always need to state the obvious? If I'm complaining about the schedules, then it's logical that something went wrong with them," he replied, with a trace of irritation.

"That's a no, then, on my question." The quick glance Sherlock sent his direction was enough to let John know he was right. With an amused smile, John started towards the kitchen, only to stop dead in the middle of it.

"In the sink. Really, Sherlock, why did it have to be in the sink?" Exasperation laced John's voice.

"You said you wouldn't complain." Irritation gone, Sherlock's tone now held a thread of dry amusement.

"I said 'as long as you kept it covered.' Does this look covered to you?" John gestured in the direction of the sink.

"I needed to test the levels of viscosity over time with exposure to air, and we didn't have a bowl big enough." Sherlock kept his eyes trained on the laptop, rapidly flicking them back and forth as he took in whatever he was watching.

"That's because you melted the last one."

"Hmmm, yes. We do need to replace that."

John crossed his arms over his chest. "You need to replace that. I'm not buying more bowls just for you to ruin them with your experiments." When Sherlock failed to comment, John uncrossed his arms and moved over to the couch to pick up the newspaper. "At least you are using your own laptop for a change."

"Yours wasn't powerful enough." At Sherlock's response, John lowered the newspaper.

"What do you mean mine isn't powerful enough? What are you doing?"

"Just some research . . ."

"Really? Just what kind of research are you doing, Sherlock? Because I can't recall you ever doing any kind of actual research that required a more powerful computer."

Ignoring the question, Sherlock shut the laptop and got up, moving over to the coat rack. Picking up his scarf, he put it on, giving John an expectant look. "Coming?"

"Would help if you told me where we are going." John put down the newspaper and moved to put his own coat on.

"To the park," Sherlock called over his shoulder as he started down the stairs, tugging his coat on.

"Why the park?" Baffled, John followed him.

"I received a text on my phone about a woman appearing out of thin air. At first, I took it to be a complete joke, but then I got the picture." Once on the street, surprisingly, Sherlock did not hail a cab. Instead, he started marching down the sidewalk.

"You received a picture of someone appearing out of thin air?" John fell into step next to him.

"Don't be ridiculous, John. You can't get a picture of someone suddenly appearing; you could only get video of that."

"Then what was the picture of?"

"The picture was of the woman who supposedly appeared out of thin air. There was a distortion in the picture I couldn't account for. It wasn't a natural phenomenon, nor was it manipulated by a computer, as far as I can tell. I tried to find a device that might cause the distortion, but I couldn't find that either." Shoving his hands in his pockets, Sherlock crossed the street, dodging traffic.

"So maybe she really did just appear out of thin air." Following along, John occasionally glanced around at the people and buildings they passed.

"I didn't say that. There isn't anything capable of actually producing someone out of thin air."

"What about unknown technology?" When Sherlock just shot him a glance, it dawned on John what he may have been doing with the laptop. "That's what you were looking for. Did you find anything?"

"No, and I didn't find anything even close to capable of that."

"So if it is true, has to be a project completely off the books, then. Something secret that someone would want to hide."

"Precisely," Sherlock gave him a small nod. "So either someone is trying to distract me with a very elaborate hoax, or there is an unknown lab out there. Either way, something is afoot."

John frowned slightly, thinking it over. "Couldn't it just be a joke someone is playing on you?"

"I already thought of that, the person who sent me the information would benefit more in the long run by being truthful to me. So while it is a possibility, the odds are against it. The most logical answer is someone with power and technology might be trying to play a game with me, possibly again." A hard edge invaded Sherlock's tone.

They had just about reached the park, and John frowned. "You think Moriarty is back?"

"I don't think he left. I think he's waiting."

John's gaze flicked around again as Sherlock slowed, starting to look around more carefully now that they were in the park. "Waiting for what?"

"For whatever game he has planned next. John, just what are you looking for?" Sherlock didn't bother turning his head towards his friend as they kept walking.

"Why do you think I'm looking for something?" Puzzled, John glanced at Sherlock.

"Perhaps I should rephrase. Who are you looking for? Because you have looked at almost every person we have passed."

"No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have."

Biting off a sigh, John should have known Sherlock would pick up on his actions. That man bloody picked up on everything. "Just a friend I made the other night."

"Ah, she." Sherlock's tone lightened, a trace of amusement coloring it now.

"Yes, she. But just a friend."

"I see. Just when are you seeing your friend again."

"Really, it's not like that," John replied, exasperated. "I just met her the other day, and we hit it off well as friends, just friends. She looked so lost and alone, I couldn't just walk away and leave her sitting alone on the bench. Besides, I think she must still be grieving for someone."

The words "lost" and "alone" rang like bells through Sherlock's mind, causing him to pause his steps for a moment before continuing.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine, John," Sherlock altered his path, heading towards a woman bundled in slightly ratty looking clothing. He stopped in front of her, pulled out a note, and offered it. She took it with a small smile, her expression brightening.

"Have you seen anything else?"

She shook her head at Sherlock's question. "Not since that day. She just appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the park, and I wasn't drinking or anything. One minute, nothing, next, there was a sound like a low thunderclap, and there she was. There was a little flash of light too, now that I'm thinking about it."

Sherlock scanned the park before looking back at her. "Anything else you can remember?"

"Went to the cash point over there, and when she walked by me gave me twenty quid. She told me to get something to eat, on her. Then she walked off." Giving a shrug, she pointed to the cash point and then in the direction Rose walked off.

"If you see her again or notice anything unusual, let me know right away." At the woman's nod, Sherlock started towards the cash point.

"Odd sort of person to be up to no good and just giving a stranger money for a meal."

"She wasn't giving money away. It had to been a bribe not to say anything." The look on Sherlock's face was not exactly one of John's favorites; it was his please-don't-be-so-stupid expression.

"But she didn't ask for her not to say anything; she just gave her the money. If it was a bribe, wouldn't she have asked her not to say anything?" John asked, puzzled, as they stopped in front of the cash point.

"Well, that would have been too obvious, John. Give money to the homeless, and they are less inclined to tell anyone they saw you. What this woman didn't know is I already pay them. Like I said before, it was a better long-term benefit for her to tell me than keep her silence." Apparently done with the cash point, Sherlock turned and walked in the direction the homeless woman had indicated the stranger had gone.

"So, just when are you going to see your friend again?"

"Back to that now, are we?" Exasperation filled John's tone again. When Sherlock didn't answer, John just shook her head. "Not sure. I already saw her today."

"You did? When?" The trace of sharp interest in Sherlock's tone drew John's brows together.

"Earlier today. She brought lunch by for the entire surgery staff. Said it was thanks for insisting she join me for the dinner the other night. Really, Sherlock she just seems lonely and like she needs a friend, nothing more."

"If you say so," Sherlock returned, noncommittally.

"Did you find anything of interest about the cash point?" John tried to change the subject.

"Hopefully I can get a copy of the surveillance on that machine. It would be interesting to see if the disturbance from the picture showed up again."

"Would that be a good thing or a bad thing?" John was slightly relieved that the subject had apparently been dropped.

"It would be another piece of the puzzle." Sherlock's mind rapidly cataloged every bit of information, trying to form a picture that would make sense.

~~~~~

The next evening, in another part of the city, Rose Tyler ambled down the sidewalk, hands tucked in her pockets. The best way to really know a city was to walk its streets, so that is what she was doing. It would take her days, really, to cover all of London on foot. However, it wasn't exactly like she had anything better to do. Besides, she found it interesting to take in all the differences between this London and the others she had known. Not to mention that it was always good to know the locations of the best chip shops.

It could have been heart-breaking, seeing familiar faces looking through her because she was a stranger. But the truth of the matter was the fact that she had spent most of her time in Pete's World buried in work. Before that, in her London, people would have changed since she had been there, she certainly had. She really wouldn't know anyone anymore. No one's fault, really, life just moved on. You either learned how to move with it, or you moldered in place.

Not that Rose Tyler was friendless, she'd had a few. But would it be fair to them, or to her, to look up their parallel selves? The whole point of this was to make a fresh start, so she resisted the temptation. If they crossed her path, so be it. But she wouldn't seek them out.

Rose was still mulling over these thoughts when a scream split the air. Instinct had her whirling to run in the direction of the sound. Her hand slid into her pocket, fingers closing over the stunner kept there. It was handy to keep in her bigger-on-the-inside pockets. No amount of patting down would ever find it, nor would a scanner pick up on it.

Slowing down, she stopped in the general area where she had heard the scream, listening hard. Hopefully she would be able to get some sort of further hint. Cautiously, she walked forward, scanning the area, when she heard it–derisive voices and sounds of a struggle. She stalked in that direction, hands still in her pockets. Words were always the first attempt; violence should be the last.

When she turned the corner, she saw a man laying on the pavement, blood pooling under him, while a man rifled through his pockets. A woman was pushed up against the wall, a second apparent attacker holding a knife to her throat.

"Oi! Leave them alone!"

Their heads jerked up, and she got a better look at them: two men, mid-twenties, black jeans and jackets, dressed fairly well, actually, for some sort of muggers. That alone rang some warning bells in her head.

"If you value your life, you should turn around and forget you saw anything here."

Rose didn't miss the quick once-over they gave her before dismissing her. That was certainly a mistake on their part. Inside, she felt briefly amused. "Don't think so, mate. Seems like you are hurting them, and that's not nice. I'll give you one chance to walk away."

Normally, Rose would give them more time and try to work things out. Unfortunately for them, the growing puddle of blood under the still form of the man on the ground didn't give her that. She observed the surprise and the slightly derisive look the pair exchanged at her statement. The one rifling through the downed man's pockets stood up, a long knife in his hand shiny and dark with blood. "What are you going to do? Give us a cross look?"

Rose stood her ground, even as he took a couple of steps forward, her voice and face utterly calm. "Last chance. Walk away, and hope the cops don't find you."

"Oh, and I'm really scared of you. Some blonde girl is going to make me pay." He continued stalking towards Rose, violence glinting in his eyes and a smirk on his face.

Sorry, mate. I'm not just any blonde girl." Rose whipped her stun gun out, first aiming at the man holding the knife to the woman's throat. Hit, he dropped to the ground, knife clattering after him. Once released, the woman scrambled frantically to the downed man. The man approaching her stopped dead, his eyes widened in disbelief as she trained the stun gun on him. "I'm a bit more of a Bad Wolf." Pulling the trigger again, the second man crumpled to the ground.

The distraught woman knelt shaking the man on the ground. "Tony, Tony, please wake up!"

At the name, Rose froze in place, a feeling of ice trickling through her. She forced herself to relax, pocketing the stun gun. Moving forward, she crouched down next to the man on the ground, trying to evaluate his condition.

"Get away from him! Who are you?!" The woman gave Rose a mistrustful look, irrational in her shock, heartbreak written on her face.

Holding her hands up, Rose spoke in a soothing tone. "Ma'am, I'm just trying to help. He's Tony, yeah? Well, I used to have a little brother with that name. I just want to help him."

Uncertain, she stood her ground for a moment. "You shot those other men."

"Just stunned them. They'll be out for a couple of hours." Rose's voice stayed calm and soothing. "Like I said, just want to help."

The woman backed off, and Rose moved in. Tony's pulse was weak, but he had one, and he was still breathing, so that was a plus. Unfortunately, he had been stabbed in the gut, and it must have hit something vital, because he appeared to be bleeding out. Rose looked up at the wide-eyed woman. "Ma'am, do you have a mobile?"

When she nodded, Rose shifted forward, putting one knee on the ground. "I need you to run to the corner and call the police. Tony here can't wait for an ambulance; he needs to get to the hospital now. I can get him there, but I need you to call the police.

The woman's face was pale, and Rose abstractly diagnosed she was going into shock from the situation. "But, but how are you going to do that?"

"I need you to trust me. Just go call the police, and I'll get Tony to the hospital. If I don't go now, he's gonna die." Staring at Rose one last time, she slowly picked herself up off the ground. Giving the man a final look, she turned and ran to the corner.

Rose let out the breath she had been holding and pulled back the sleeve of her jacket. One thing handy about learning a city–she knew where the hospitals were. Being somewhat jeopardy friendly, she'd thought that would be a good idea. Briefly, she thought of John's surgery, but they didn't treat emergencies there. Once she had programmed the coordinates, she hooked an arm around the prone man, gathering him to her the best she could. "Sorry 'bout this. Gonna be a rough ride." And with a white flash and a sharp sound, the alley was empty.

In the next breath, a flash of light shone and the same sound rang out as she appeared by the hospital, near the emergency entrance. For once, she had wanted to attract attention, but apparently, her arrival had gone unnoticed. So Rose called out, "Hey. Hey! Over here! This guy is hurt. He needs help!"

Not far away, a woman dressed in scrubs jerked her head in Rose's direction. Muttering something under her breath, she started running towards the pair. Then all the sudden it was as if people boiled out of the entrance, swarming them to give the man the help he needed.

Their focus on the wounded man in their midst, no one noticed the woman who eased away. By the time someone thought to search for her, there had already been another flash of light, and she was gone.