Author's Note: This sequence seems to go pretty quickly. Sorry if you get whiplash. :)

Rose snapped awake, sucking in great gulps of air. She was back in her bed in Pete's London. All it took was a single moment to register what she had learned in the dream for her to be out of her bed, throwing off her jimjams. There was a persistent buzzing at the front of her head, and it drove her to dress. She pulled on her trainers, sweats, and a sports jumper. Finally, she pulled on the Doctor's coat, inhaling the lingering scent for the umpteenth time since Mickey had given it to her. After a glance at the clock, Rose determined that she had a little more than twenty-two hours to reach the beach. She knew that the Doctor wouldn't have contacted her if it wasn't vital that she be there.

She entered her parents' room and shook her mother and father awake just enough to bid them goodbye. They fell back asleep the moment that she pulled back. After she left the room, she crept into Gray's room.

The baby slept gently in his crib, and barely moved when she lifted him from it gingerly to lay a kiss on his head and embrace him. "I would have loved to be your sister, if things were different. I love you, Gray."

Before she left, Rose penned four long letters to say goodbye. One to each parent, one to Grayson, and, finally, one to Mickey. Each had its own thing to say, and she hoped she expressed her deepest love and gratitude in them. As she walked out of the door, Rose pilfered Pete's credit card from his overcoat pocket and slipped it into the Doctor's own coat.

She reached the London airport an hour later, giving her a little over twenty-one hours to reach the beach.

"I need a one-way ticket on the first departing flight to Norway," Rose declared to the flight coordinator yawning in the window.

The coordinator snapped to a sluggish attention, bringing up the flight schedule with two manicured fingers. "Next flight to Norway leaves in an hour," she told Rose, looking suspiciously at her through the glass. "You want a seat?"

"Yes, please," Rose said, nodding emphatically.

"I need a credit card and some ID, please," the Coordinator demanded, waiting.

Rose withdrew her driver's license and the stolen credit card. Her hands shook as she pushed them under the window. She silently prayed that she would not be stopped because she was not Pete Tyler.

Thankfully, there was no trouble. The Coordinator popped in a piece of gum as the ticket printed. She handed it back through. "That's a first class."

"Thank you." Rose said, seizing the boarding pass and clinging to it.

"Do you have any bags to check?"

"No." She answered. "C-could you tell me how long the flight is scheduled to be?"

The Coordinator sighed before again consulting her computer. "It'll be a short two hour flight."

Rose thanked the coordinator, and began to figure as she made her way towards airport security. She would board the plane in an hour, take two in transit, land in the center of the country, and then rent a car. The drive south would take her at least five, if not six hours. It should put her in town with fifteen hours to spare. She could rest in a hotel on the outskirts of town for a few hours, and then drive the last hour down to the spot on the beach. If she didn't run into many problems, she should be able to make the Doctor's deadline with ease.

When she found herself on the plane, she began to consider the possibility of why the Doctor needed her there, and how he had come to contact her. She ran several options through her mind, secretly clinging to the one that she wouldn't let herself accept, though it was what she wanted most. She didn't know if she could survive anything different, but she would just have to find out.

The plane was mostly empty, save for a few businessmen and weary travelers on their way home. Most slept, ignoring the turbulence rocking the aircraft. Rose, however, could not sleep. She clung, white knuckled, to the seat in front of her, while adrenaline pounded in her ears. She doubted that she would be able to properly relax until she was situated in the Norwegian coastal town. Thus, she watched in fixed concentration as the blue green ocean gave way to lush Scandinavian coastline. I'm coming, Doctor, she thought frantically. I'll be there.

The more she thought about her destination, the more persistent the buzzing in her head that she had noticed became. It was irritating and distracting, but Rose did her best to forget about its presence.

The plane landed on a dreary patch of runway. Rain poured heavily outside of Rose's window as she gathered the Doctor's coat from the seat beside her, pulling it on as she thundered down the gangway. A glance at her watch told confirmed the calculations she had made back in London. Everything was right on schedule.

She made her way to the lobby, and asked to be directed to the nearest car rental or cab service. A swipe of Pete's credit card later, she was on her way to Dalig Ulv Stranden.

As she drove, she began to regret her hasty actions. How could she have not said goodbye? She would have had time. What if the Doctor really had found a way to her? Was she going to disappear without a trace? No. It wasn't a question of if she would leave with the Doctor, it was the thought of never saying goodbye to her poor mother when she did. She sighed, turning up the radio that was keeping her alert. There was nothing to be done at that moment. She'd forgotten her cell phone, so perhaps she would use a pay phone at the hotel.

Her head was buzzing so much that she was verging on a migraine. She gave another sigh. It had to be the excitement of what she was doing, but it was certainly annoying enough to make her angry. Of course her head would do something so unnecessary when she really needed to focus.

THE TARDIS:

The whining had finally stopped on the TARDIS, and she seemed to be functioning normally again. Well, as normally as a ship blocking her captain's ability to navigate her could act. The Doctor had accepted the TARDIS had a location in mind, and had resigned himself to waiting until they reached it. However, had it been up to him, they would have been back on earth to get Donna. The utter quiet of the ship was leaving him to dwell on uncomfortable and unwanted memories.

Stop it, you git, he thought angrily to himself, you need to stop moaning and crying about her. She's never coming back, and you can't see her again. Ever. The rebuke only succeeded in stirring up more thoughts of her. Of how her hair had shone in the sun, how her tongue found itself in the corner of her mouth when she'd grinned. His own lips curled slightly as he remembered how he had kissed her in his old body, and then again when Cassandra had invaded her body. He wondered what it would be like to kiss Rose when there were no dire circumstances or trickery. Had he not known better, he would have tried to pass this curiosity off as his never-ending quest to learn, but now, he understood that it was Rose more than anything intellectual. He had loved holding her, even when it was supposed to be a merely platonic gesture. He had loved feeling her hand in his. As he thought of her, he became to determined to return to earth for his beloved friend who so cheered him.

The TARDIS didn't have time to comfort the Doctor as she struggled to project what she needed to and where. Rose was on the move, the TARDIS knew, and she'd be damned if she'd let Rose screw this up. It was the best choice, for the Doctor, for Rose, and for the TARDIS herself.