Because of all the rage today about the DW 50th trailer at Comic Con that's not being released to the public, y'all are getting this week's chapter early.

The most popular answers from Spot Team TARDIS:

John - Doctor (Correct, obv)
Miss James - Martha (Correct)
Dr. Lewis - Rose (WRONG)

She still couldn't get over his name.

She didn't understand why the TARDIS, who had invented him an entire life story and had the capabilities to make that story entirely credible, couldn't come up with a proper name. John Smith was so inconspicuous that it actually was conspicuous. Or at least it was when they were lying. But John Smith was a credible, trusted, and frankly magnificent doctor. Why would anyone question him?

His occupation had also been something of a shock. He was a pediatrician, of all things. She thought it might've been the TARDIS's way of having a laugh. The Doctor was good with children so his human counterpart was a children's doctor.

All things considering, she thought the TARDIS had chosen a pretty good place for them to wait the three months out. America in the year 2003: modern enough for her and Martha to be comfortable and far enough for them to be safe from Torchwood. They were completely active in this time period but they were on the other side of the Atlantic. Thinking back on it, she was almost positive their jurisdiction didn't extend to America. So unless the Men in Black were real, there were no other alien-related agencies in America, unless you counted UNIT (which she didn't) but they were allies of the Doctor and were unlikely to take advantage of his vulnerable state. She hoped.

Bridgeton, Kentucky was nothing like London. It was difficult at first and she and Martha spent the first week trying to find their feet. Most of the people had strange drawls, somewhere between the standard American accent and the deep Southern accent the people had when she and the Doctor visited 1949 Georgia.

Rose was jarred from her thoughts by the phone ringing and her hand snatched up the receiver before it could even finish. "Good afternoon, Riverview Hospital, how may I direct your call?" she recited.

The woman on the line launched into a long rant about what was wrong with her and Rose tried to follow along as best she could before politely informing the woman that she was only a receptionist and couldn't provide her with medical help but, if she would like to hold on a minute, she would transfer her to someone who could.

Placing her hand over the microphone and whispered to Natalie, "This woman says she has a hernia and needs to make an appointment with someone."

"Dr. Pearson's clinic, gastrology, extension 3452," Natalie responded without looking away from her screen.

"You're a saint."

"That's what they tell me."

Rose dialed in the extension then hung the phone up and went back to her computer.

It was not her dream job, being a receptionist at a hospital main desk, but it beat working in the gift shop, cafeteria, or as a janitor. She worked reasonable hours and she always had a partner working the desk with her. Depending on their shifts, it was either Aiden or Natalie. Both were very welcoming and had been excited to have a fresh face added in the mix.

On her first day she'd been scheduled to work with Natalie. She was somewhere in her late forties with a brown pixie cut and style of makeup that made her look quite severe. Rose Tyler, time traveller, intergalactic hero, the Bad Wolf, the guardian of the Doctor mind, the Stuff of Legends, was immediately intimidated. She decided on the spot to try and work her voice into an Estuary accent so the woman wouldn't immediately label her a chav. Turns out she needn't have worried.

Natalie heard her speak, raised her eyebrows, and said, "I'm only gonna ask this once is your British accent real or are you just faking it?"

Rose very nearly laughed with relief and realized the woman probably wouldn't know Cockney from Northern. After all, she apparently hadn't been as well educated in American accents as she thought. She should've realized it would've been the same for Americans and the variety of English accents.

So when she responded she slipped right back into her natural accent and said, "No 's real."

Natalie's features relaxed into a smile. "Well, then, hello Rose Taylor. It's nice to meet you. Have you clocked in yet?"

The job wasn't perfect and she wasn't the worlds best receptionist, but it was manageable, her coworkers were decent, and as long as she worked at this desk there was little chance of John Smith seeing her, or vice versa. All in all, she had it pretty well.

Martha was working as a med student from the UK finishing her residency under the name Martha James. It was either luck or the "residual awareness" the Doctor had mentioned but Martha's attending physician just so happened to be John Smith. Things couldn't have gone better if they'd planned it. Not only was Martha getting more medical experience but also got to be near him almost every day for hours on end.

While Rose, on the other hand, didn't have to be. That in itself was a blessing to her fragile heart. Plus, as an added bonus, John's shift wasn't usually over until she'd already gone home for the day and on the rare occasions when it was, he never stopped at the desk to chat. He didn't even know she existed and it was better that way. If his residual knowledge of Martha was enough to make him accept her and treat her as a friend, then what would it say about Rose? She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"You know," Natalie said, startling Rose back into the present. "I'll never understand how you move so fast. I don't think I've heard the phone ring more than once in a row since you've started working here."

Rose smiled sheepishly. Years with the Doctor had given her amazing reflexes. Answering a telephone quickly was easy and unless she was in the middle of something, she didn't see the point in making the person on the other line wait any longer than they had to.

"Just good reflexes. Reckon I'd be good at football if I tried."

Natalie eyed her. "Petite little thing like you? They'd trample you."

"I'm not that small." Rose sniffed. "Plenty of women are smaller than me."

"But there's no women's football league."

"Yes there—oh, wait. By football I meant…er, football. No hands, kick the ball into a goal, goalies."

"Soccer," Natalie said. "Or, in Spanish, American football."

Natalie had taken it upon herself to teach Rose Spanish. She had no way of knowing that everything she said was being run through a telepathic filter inside Rose's head and translated into English. Usually that was how it worked—the TARDIS would identify the primary language of their time and location and would translate words in the second before they were spoken so they came out in that tongue. But the Doctor had taught her how to inform the TARDIS she wanted to be heard speaking a specific language even to those who would not understand. She could've gotten a job in the hospital as a translator but she ran the risk of running into John or there was always the chance she'd forget to get the TARDIS's attention and she'd go in and everyone would hear their native language. Martha had agreed it wasn't a good idea.

But she couldn't explain any of that to Natalie so she let the older woman try to educate her in a language that only 5% of the Bridgeton population spoke.

That was just how Natalie was. She had a keen memory for facts, statistics, and the most random information. She memorized things, stored them away, and shared them when it suited her. For example, in the past few weeks, Rose had inadvertently learned that Bridgeton had one hundred and fifty thousand people, four townships, two hospitals, one museum, two bike trails, ten parks, eight swimming pools, and sixteen fire stations. It didn't annoy Rose so much as it overwhelmed her. The Doctor could talk for England but he was content with receiving noncommittal responses most of the time. Natalie made her ramblings into a conversation in which she expected the other person(s) to participate.

At the same time, she was very much a mama bear. She seemed to view Rose as a young girl who was far from home and mourning her love and, therefore, needed guidance and protection. Not coddling, mind. She didn't let Rose slack off but at the same time she was lenient if Rose zoned out as she was stroking the fob watch, since it had been his. She expected Rose to be on her 'A game' when working and she helped her stay there by doing things like telling her the extension to a gastrology clinic on the third floor.

The other person she usually worked with was Aiden. He was younger than Natalie, somewhere near twenty-six if she had to guess, unmarried, pretty, with a headful of ginger hair that he probably spent fifteen minutes on in the morning. His personality wasn't too shabby, either, very light and funny. Definitely her type and if her affections weren't elsewhere, she'd probably be interested.

He'd definitely been interested in her at the beginning. It wasn't worth starting anything with him even if she could bring herself to. So she and Martha had come up with another part of their backstories. Rose's boyfriend of nearly three years had passed away recently and when her friend Martha told her she was moving to the USA, she decided to come with her for a fresh start. Martha said it would give Rose a little leniency with her behavior and if Aiden were any sort of decent, it would ward him off.

He'd seemed decent but she'd still been worried he wouldn't take no for an answer and she'd have to put up with his advances for three months or risk losing her job. Thankfully, once he heard her story, he backed off, offering his shoulder if she ever needed it, platonic dates if she needed a night out, and to take over the desk if she needed a moment. She planned on taking him up on at least one of the three.

He'd also realized that she knew next to nothing about living in America and started correcting her speech.

Cash point: atm.
Ten past eight: eight-ten.
Crisps: chips.
Chips: fries.
Biscuits: cookies.
The cinema: movies or the movie theater.
Chemist: drug store.
Petrol: gas.
Trousers: pants.

And that was just from the first week. By the end of the first month they'd gone through changing word spellings (like colour to color) for when she had to write things down for people, where famous monuments were, and he was trying to teach her how to speak with the local accent. That last one wasn't going anywhere fast.

"You're pronouncing things wrong. You have to say each word and draw out your vowels," he said. "Stop biting them off."

"I don't pronounce anythin' wrong!" she shot back. "You lot pronounce things wrong."

"Well, around here, this is how things are said."

"And back home, this is how things are said." she folded her arms.

"Come on, Rosie, try again. It's not that hard."

She arched her eyebrow. "Right then, if it's so easy, talk like me. G'on."

He ended up sounding like a Northerner with something stuck in his throat. So she'd told him if he planned on teaching her any more, first he had to work on speaking like her. She told him once she was satisfied he could walk around her old neighborhood without getting weird looks every time he opened his mouth, he could try teaching her to talk like a Kentuckian again. She figured that would spare her for a few weeks.

Or drive her spare in a few weeks.

The next shift they worked together, he greeted her with a hearty, "Top o' the mornin' to, ye!"

She stopped dead with her hand halfway to the time clock then turned her head slowly. "That's—that's Irish," she said after a moment.

"Damn."

The afternoon shift ended at six pm. At five 'til, the two working the evening shift arrived to take over and Rose and Natalie walked back to the staff room together. As they collected their things and clocked out, Natalie asked if she had anything planned for the evening.

"Martha's not on call tonight so we're probably going to go to the cine—the movies," she amended quickly.

She nodded. "Sounds fun. What are you going to see?"

"I think Bruce Almighty. I hear it's hilarious." She knew for a fact that it was, as she'd seen it when it was first released in Britain, but she couldn't tell Natalie that.

"I haven't seen it yet but I'm going to. Even if the plot is bad—which I doubt—it's starring Jim Carrey. Mmm-mmm." She smiled wickedly and placed her card into the slot on the top of the clock.

Rose's mouth split into a disbelieving grin.

"Oh, come on, you have to admit he's good looking."

"Well…"

"Oh, stop."

Rose slipped her card into the slot, waited for the clicking to finish, then withdrew it. She checked to make sure the information was accurate then returned her card to its appropriate slot. "He's alright, yeah, but he kind of creeps me out sometimes. Just some of the faces he makes and the way his eyes and teeth works. He looks like an upright Kortar."

"A what?" Natalie asked.

Rose froze, eyes widening, and was thankful Natalie couldn't see her face. She was so careful to not let things like that slip, but Natalie had become dear to her in the last few weeks, filling a small part of the void left behind by her mother's absence. She was still debating on telling her who she really was once this was all over, but not yet. Not like this.

"It's, uh, this monster thing from a show I used to watch, long time ago. But it was weird looking."

Natalie smiled, satisfied by her answer, and gave her a hug. "Well, enjoy the movie. I'll see you Thursday."

Rose bid her goodbye and fled the hospital, feeling the same conflicting emotions she always did. On the one hand she was glad to be away from John Smith but on the other, she didn't want to be far away if he needed her. But it wasn't like she was abandoning the Doctor.

Rose kept the watch with her at all times, in a pocket when she had one in her outfit and in her purse when she didn't. It was strangely comforting to have it near and she took it as a sign that he really was in there though she dared not open it to be sure. Not that she doubted him. But having the watch close by did very little to satisfy the craving she had for his presence. The occasional whispers she caught from the watch—usually her name but one time she heard love—were no substitute for the sound of his voice.

She missed his smile, his laugh, his scent; the way his arms felt around her, the way his chest felt underneath her cheek, and his lips felt as they kissed. She missed hearing him talk endlessly; she missed the sweet silences between them. She missed watching telly with him. She missed the running. She missed falling asleep to his heartsbeat and soft humming, she missed waking up to his smile. She missed holding his hand.

She missed him.

Sometimes it became too much and she had to see him. She'd simply text Martha, 'Where?' and wait for her to reply before excusing herself to the bathroom or the break room, and went in search of him. Martha never questioned it, never tried to stop her.

They helped, those brief glimpses she had of him. Always from a distance though and never long enough that he'd risk seeing her. She'd watch him converse with patients, visitors, and staff and her heart would ache every time he smiled. Sometimes she was able to hear the familiar timbre of his voice. She could pretend in those moments that it really was him. But almost always he'd do something—a certain expression or gesture that would scream not the Doctor and she'd run before she saw another.

For simplicity's sake, she and Martha shared a two-bedroom flat. Theirs was located two blocks from the complex John lived in. The TARDIS was located near the hospital, only about a mile away. They could go to and from work quickly, stopping at the TARDIS if they had to, and they were close to John if anything happened. The TARDIS was alert enough to keep tabs on them all and had agreed to warn Rose if he was in danger. Anything else, though, had to be learned from Martha.

There was nothing from the TARDIS now, just a faint hum in the back of Rose's mind to let her know the ship still lived and hadn't abandoned her and Martha.

Since Martha had to work longer hours and through the night the times when she was on call, Rose did a large portion of the work around the flat, though Martha was always sure to do her chores. The mornings after Martha was on call, Rose was always sure to have something waiting in the microwave or fridge to be heated up so she could eat before collapsing in to bed. They hung out together when their schedules permitted. Martha would talk about her patients or what John Smith was up to. Sometimes they'd go to the cinema or go for runs to keep in shape. They visited the TARDIS every few days to keep her company.

Rose used the hour alone in the flat to change into casual clothes, do the dishes, call to order pizza, and check the show times for Bruce Almighty . The pizza arrived fifteen minutes before Martha did. When Martha walked in, she set her bag on the table and immediately dropped onto the couch. Rose looked up from her laptop in surprise. She set it aside, opened the pizza box, tore off two slices and set them on a plate then handed it to Martha.

"Rough day?" she asked. Martha sat up and accepted the plate. She bit into the first slice like she hadn't eaten for days.

Martha nodded.

"I'm all ears."

She made a face and swallowed. "Well, Patrick Kaiser went in for his kidney transplant today but his body rejected it immediately. There was a mix up somewhere along the line and part of his information got swapped with somebody else's entered that day. So someone, somewhere, is probably gonna go through the same thing. And I had to explain that to his family. Thank God I don't have to worry about all the paperwork." She took another bite of pizza and chewed slowly. "Tell you what though, I feel sorry for the poor fella who made the mix up because you can bet his job will be gone if they ever figure out exactly who did it. Probably his medical license, too, if he has one."

"Accidents happen," Rose mused.

Martha quirked an eyebrow. "Most accidents don't cost thousands of dollars, hours of paperwork, and at least one healthy kidney."

"True." She looked down at the pizza contemplatively. She'd already had two slices but she was still hungry. She'd been telling herself that she'd go make a small salad for the past ten minutes but that didn't seem to be happening. Sod it. She tore another piece off and took a bite.

"Iris Rooter came back today."

"Wasn't she the one who broke her leg on a scooter?" That one had been pretty easy to remember. Rooter. Scooter.

"Yep. I told her no more scooters until after her leg had fully healed."

"What did she do?"

"Hopped on a scooter, wrecked it, and broke her femur. It was so bad they had to operate to set it. So now her tibia and her femur are broken. That girl isn't gonna be walking for a long, long time and even then…" Martha's mouth puckered. "She's probably gonna be permanently crippled. I don't understand. Did she not hear me? Did she think she wouldn't get hurt?"

"She's fourteen. You can't tell me you didn't do something stupid when you were fourteen."

"Not that stupid. I never disobeyed doctors," she added. "Anyway, let's see, what else? Summer Winters had her baby today."

Rose snorted. "I can't believe she didn't keep her maiden name. I would if my married name would be a pun. Like Rose Bush."

"Winters is her maiden name, actually. Her married name is Hopper. …She says her parents were hippies," she added.

"That explains so much."

They both burst out laughing and Martha choked on her pizza. Rose thumped her on the back to help it go down. Martha wheezed, still laughing, and rubbed her chest. "It does," she panted, "it really does."

"So what'd they name the kid?"

"Anna."

She nodded. "What else?"

"I told you one of the pediatric patients I worked with went home the other day—Macy Clearwater?"

Rose nodded again.

"Well, there's a kid in her ward called Elliot. He's one of the boys that got in that fight two weeks ago. I don't know much about him other than that he's got leukemia and he is mute. He's not deaf and the cancer isn't in his throat, he just chooses not to talk. None of the other children really connect with him so Macy was his only friend. He's not handling her departure well. He won't eat. He won't leave his bed except for the loo and chemo." She took another bite of the pizza and chewed slowly. "I can't do much since he's not one of mine but I told John about it. He's been keeping an eye on Elliot since the fight."

Rose froze mid-chew for a second then continued. Swallowing, she asked, "What did he say?"

"He said he'd talk to him today. I didn't get a chance to ask him how it went."

"The Doctor could help him," Rose said.

"I think John can, too. They're not completely different, Rose. You see him as this complete stranger but he's…."

Rose looked away. She shifted her leg and felt the familiar weight of the fob watch in her pocket.

"And, uh, I'm not exactly sure how to tell you this, but… Has he always had sideburns?"

"Yeah, ever since he regenerated. He was quite fascinated with them."

"Yeah, well, John shaved them off."

Rose blinked, looked up, and blinked again. "What?"

"He shaved his sideburns off."

"He didn't."

One corner of her mouth twisted upwards. "He did. It's really weird."

Rose put her forehead in her hand and sighed. She didn't like the thought that John was changing his body when it wasn't really his to change. Though, all things considered, the lack of sideburns was nothing. They'd grow back sooner or later. "Thank God he didn't wake up this morning and decide he wanted a tattoo."

"Oh, no, he's getting a tattoo this weekend. He told me."

Her head snapped up. "He what?!" she shrieked. "Oh my God, the Doctor is going to flip when he wakes up and finds out. Please tell me he's not gettin' it on his—oh. Martha! That's not funny!"

Martha's lip twitched and then she was roaring with laughter. The plate slipped off her knees and she leaned back against the couch, holding her stomach. Rose glared at her.

Now, as WhoinWhoville said, it's time to play the Who's Gonna Get Killed by the Family Game! (Guys, don't actually send me names of who you think is getting offed. You haven't even met everyone yet.)

WSITW passed 800 reviews the other day. Yaaaaaaaaayyyy! :D :D :D

Hey, if we can get to 1000 reviews before chapter 50, I might have a little side-story surprise for you guys that takes place in one of those "in-between" chapters.