The Verdant Laboratory

Working at Luna Detective Agency was an experience in itself. Rose had initially thought she would be encountering the bizarre and the unexplained all the time, but the reality was quite different.

Most of the time River worked in the backroom, examining artefacts while Rose was at the front of the shop, cleaning, organising and greeting any clients who came in. Most people who came in left disappointed that River could not help them find their missing pet or find dirt on a cheating spouse.

A few odd ones did come in, almost always with an unbelievable story or an unexplained artefact. Rose was surprised and impressed at River's ability to judge if they were lying or telling the truth within a few minutes of conversation. As for artefacts, she sometimes dismissed them outright as fakes but with some of the others she would take her time to examine them and conduct a few tests.

However, despite almost three weeks since Rose began working at the Luna Detective Agency, nothing out of the ordinary happened. Rose would have been disappointed, except something had changed one week in.

Rose had been tidying one of the bookshelves and she could hear River working in the backroom. Rose hadn't really mustered up the courage to ask exactly what it was that River meant by authenticating artefacts, but she found herself glancing at the backroom frequently while she worked. The door was open so after nearly an hour of Rose casting surreptitious glances at her work, River had sighed and invited her to come in and observe.

Rose hadn't ever really given much thought to archaeology despite loving history immensely. But watching River explain relative dating methods was fascinating to Rose, because River made it seem so interesting and engaging.

River must have been able to tell that Rose was interested, because from then on, she started asking Rose to assist her whenever possible.

Over the past two weeks, Rose had become a little more familiar with archaeology, and whenever they didn't have any clients, she would watch River work, and listen to her explain her methods as well as the history behind the artefact.

Initially, Rose had only been planning on working on Saturdays and maybe one or two days during the week. However, for the past two weeks, Rose had been coming in every day after school and staying until they closed in the evening. Rose also worked all day on Saturday. It kept her a lot busier than expected but Rose couldn't say she disliked it.

River let her do her homework if there was nothing else going on, and even occasionally helped Rose with her studies. So while nothing out of the ordinary had happened, Rose wasn't exactly regretting her decision to work at Luna Detective Agency.

She was well aware that this was just a trial run, but Rose had found no reason thus far not to take the job if River offered it to her. Her mum wasn't best pleased, particularly because she thought the job would give her airs and graces but she couldn't exactly complain either since Rose was working hard and making decent money. Rose's marks were also back on track and while she no longer had a lot of time to see her friends, Rose was happier than she thought she would be.

One Saturday when Rose walked into the shop, River was dressed differently. River usually preferred comfortable leggings or fitted trousers, paired with knit jumpers or loose shirts, but that day she was wearing a sleeveless forest green handkerchief dress, with a thick brown belt around her waist and knee-length brown boots.

"We have a client coming in this morning," River said to Rose, when Rose looked at her in surprise. "She'll be here soon, so do you mind popping the kettle on? And maybe some biscuits too, she's partial to wagon wheels."

Rose gave her a curious look. "Someone you know?" she asked.

"Yes," said River. "Azalea Meadowes, she's a professor of Ecology at Oxford, but she has been on sabbatical this year. She called me last night and said she needed my expertise."

"Archaeology or the other kind?" asked Rose, as she put her coat and scarf away in the backroom and put the kettle on for tea.

"She didn't say, but judging by her tone on the phone last night, I don't think it's about archaeology," said River.

Rose nodded, and couldn't help but be slightly excited by the prospect of an unexplained mystery. An Oxford professor was unlikely to be someone who would tell tall tales or bring in an outrageously fake artefact.

Azalea Meadowes arrived just as Rose finished setting up the tea tray. The woman who walked in was in her mid-fifties with salt and pepper black hair, dark skin, and wearing a neat tweed skirt suit and gold horn-rimmed glasses. She was exactly what one would expect an Oxford professor to look like.

What was out of place, however, was the slightly distressed expression on her face. River greeted her with a wide smile and a quick hug. Azalea hugged River back and smiled a little as pulled away.

"Hello, River," she said. "It is so nice to see you again."

River smiled back. "It is nice to see you too, Azalea. Please come in."

Azalea followed River as she led her into the shop and toward the sofa in the corner of the room where River usually saw clients. Rose walked in from the backroom a minute later, with the tea tray held in her hands.

When Azalea saw her, River smiled and said, "This is Rose. She works here part-time and assists me in my work."

Azalea held out her hand to Rose. "Hello, I'm Azalea Meadowes. Very nice to meet you, Rose," she said.

Rose waited to put the tea tray down on the coffee table before shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you too," said Rose.

As Rose poured tea for everyone, River and Azalea made some small talk, mostly about Azalea's journey to London, only to have Azalea say she had been in London for a few months now and her sabbatical had turned into a personal research project. She didn't want to seem to expand on what this project happened to be, and it seemed as if that was her reason for coming to see River.

Once Azalea had her cup of tea, she took a sip before looking at River. "I know what you do can be...interesting," she said.

The way she said it made Rose think that Azalea Meadowes was not someone who believed in anything beyond the rational world. If the way River smiled in response was any indication, Rose's intuition was not off the mark.

"So what brings you to me today?" asked River. "As I understand, you have never given much consideration to my work."

Azalea sighed and set her cup of tea down. "I came to you because there is no one else I can turn to, and to be honest, I don't know what I'm dealing with."

River gave her a scrutinising look and nodded slowly. "Alright, what is it?" Azalea glanced at Rose before looking at River again. "Anything you say to me, you can say in front of Rose," said River, firmly.

Rose sat up slightly taller when she said that.

Azalea nodded. "As I said before, I have been working on a personal project here in London. An old friend of mine had asked me to assist on some botanical research," she said. "It hasn't been, well I should say, it hadn't been going well. Until about two weeks ago."

"What happened two weeks ago?" asked Rose.

"Two weeks ago, I came back to the lab and the plant that we were researching...it," she paused, before continuing. "...I swear I could hear it breathing," said Azalea.

River's eyebrows wrinkled. "What do you mean you could hear it breathing?"

"I mean what I said," said Azalea, earnestly. "It was breathing. Snoring, actually, if you want me to be honest." She looked between Rose and River. "I know it sounds insane."

"What kind of a plant was it?" asked Rose.

"It's just an ordinary rosebush," said Azalea, with a slight shrug.

River raised her eyebrows. "Well that doesn't sound normal, does it?"

"No, it does not," agreed Azalea. "An ordinary rosebush should not have been snoring."

"You're right about that," said River. "Although, I find it hard to believe that it was just an ordinary rosebush if it is what you were researching."

Azalea rolled her eyes but gave a nod. "Well yes, it is not quite ordinary. It might be easier to show you than explain," said Azalea.

Rose glanced at River, who was appraising Azalea thoughtfully. "Certainly," said River, finally. "Call a cab, will you?"

At first Rose thought River had directed it to her, but Azalea nodded and stood up. She stepped a few steps away and made a call on her cellphone.

"Are you going with her?" Rose asked River in a whisper, even though she knew the answer.

"We are going with her," corrected River. "Get your coat, and grab a notebook and pen as well."

Rose gaped at her for a moment, but hurried to obey before River could change her mind.

The cab ride was quite long, the London traffic making it worse. Forty-five minutes after leaving the Luna Detective Agency, the cab pulled up in a very posh neighbourhood in Knightsbridge. Rose tried not to balk when the fare came to about £35, which Azalea paid without blinking.

The houses in the neighbourhood were arranged on a curve around the garden square with stucco-fronted elevations, wide windows and projecting porches with Doris columns. The house they were standing in front of was two windows wide and had a cast iron balcony on the first floor which Rose knew would provide a magnificent view of the garden square.

Rose was beginning to regret that it was a Saturday and she was not wearing her school uniform, because even if the uniform belonged to a public school in Peckham, it would have been an improvement over the ripped wide-legged blue jeans and faded pink t-shirt that Rose was wearing. Thankfully, her coat covered most of it, but Rose still felt extremely out of place.

"This way," said Azalea, leading them to the front door.

"I thought we were going to a lab," Rose murmured to River.

River just shrugged with a curious smile, and Rose followed after her, as Azalea rang the doorbell.

A moment later, the door was opened by an older man dressed in beige slacks and a bright blue knit jumper. He appeared to be in his mid-sixties, shaved bald head, dark skin and surprisingly alert brown eyes.

"Azalea! Welcome back," he greeted in a warm voice.

"Hello, Daniel," smiled Azalea. "I have brought reinforcements."

The man, Daniel, smiled as he looked toward them. "Come in, come in," he beckoned, opening the door wide.

Rose tried not to gape too much as they stepped into the beautiful house. The interior had freshly painted white walls and spotless white furniture with splashes of red and orange because of the various artwork on the walls.

"Daniel, meet Professor River Song and Miss Rose Tyler," said Azalea.

"Daniel Colburn, very nice to meet you," he said, shaking River's hand and then Rose's.

"Nice to meet you too," said River.

"Yeah," agreed Rose, liking his bright smile and warm demeanour immediately. "You have a beautiful house."

"Oh, thank you very much," he beamed. "Let's talk in the laboratory, shall we?"

"You have a lab here?" asked River, and Rose was glad that she had asked because Rose had been about to as well.

"Yes, in a manner of speaking," he said, leading them further through the house and right out into a conservatory. Rose's eyes went wide as she saw the glass walls of the conservatory, and plants, shrubs and greenery growing inside. It looked like a place out of a fairy tale, and certainly not the clinical lab that Rose had been expecting.

"Daniel is something of a collector," said Azalea.

"I have spent over forty years of my life finding and tending to rare and unusual plant specimens," explained Daniel. "Did Azalea tell you about my most recent acquisition?"

"I thought it would be easier to show them," said Azalea.

Daniel nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I see," he said. "This way."

He led them deeper into the conservatory, and stopped before a potted plant.

"It's massive!" exclaimed Rose, as she stared at the towering rosebush which was easily over seven feet tall.

"Yes, but that isn't what's unique about it," said Daniel, as he carefully parted the leaves to reveal an unusual flower. The petals of the rose were pitch black, lined with a dusting of silver that seemed to glow just a little.

"It grew this way?" asked River, leaning toward it but keeping a distance regardless.

"It did," nodded Azalea. "Daniel heard about this rosebush growing black and silver roses, so we brought a sample back here."

"We only picked a branch," added Daniel. "And it grew to this size in less than three weeks."

"That's impossible," said Rose.

"That is what we thought as well," said Azalea.

"And you're sure it's an ordinary rose bush?" asked River.

"Biologically speaking, yes," nodded Daniel. "DNA sequencing says it's Rosa x damascena. A Damask rose."

"What is that?" asked Rose.

"It's a rose hybrid," explained River. "Their scent forms the basis for many perfumes and oils."

Rose leaned forward but stopped herself from smelling the flower, remembering how little they knew about this plant. "And you said you heard it breathing?" asked Rose, looking at Azalea.

"More like it was snoring," said Azalea, with a look at Daniel. "It happens in the evenings. And during the day…" she paused, as if it made her uncomfortable to voice out loud.

"Yes?" prompted River.

"It hums," finished Azalea.

"Hums?" asked Rose, and as she said it, they all heard a low sound as if an old woman were humming a melody under her breath. The melody was unrecognisable, to Rose at least. She jumped back and glanced at River, who looked unphased.

"Have you conducted any tests?" asked River.

Azalea nodded. "We ran the usual stimulus-response tests, but…" she paused again and looked at Daniel.

"It does not respond like we would expect," said Daniel. "Rather, it seems as if it goes out of its way to react in a contrary way."

As if to punctuate Daniel's words, the humming stopped and three flowers spontaneously sprung into bloom. Rose was certain there hadn't even been any buds on the plant before, but there were now three fully bloomed roses in the same black and silver colour, emanating a faint scent of earth and oranges.

"It's mimicking your perfume," said River, glancing at Azalea, who looked a bit freaked out.

Rose didn't blame her; the whole thing was making her hair stand on end.

"Why me?" asked Azalea, backing away slightly. "Daniel has been the one who has been tending to it."

"I'm not sure," said River. "Could I see your notes?"

"I'll go and fetch them," said Azalea, and hurried away, looking glad to be leaving.

Daniel pursed his lips, as he turned to River. "Azalea didn't mention what it was that you did, but you do not seem bothered by this whole situation, Professor Song," he said.

River winked at him. "Trust me, Daniel, I have seen and experienced things you wouldn't believe," she said. "But, so far it seems to me that whatever this plant is, it does not mean you or Azalea any harm."

Daniel nodded. "I'll get my notes as well," he said, and walked away.

Rose turned to River, who was examining the plant again. "Have you seen anything like this before?" she asked.

"No," answered River, and carefully reached out her hand toward the plant.

"Hang on," said Rose, catching her wrist. "What if it hurts you?"

River glanced at her before looking back at the plant. "Do you mean us harm?" she asked, as if talking to a person.

Rose didn't expect a response, but the plant started humming that same melody again, but the voice was a bit louder this time. She didn't know how, but somehow it felt like the plant was answering and saying it didn't mean them harm. She looked at River, and slowly dropped River's wrist.

River nodded at her and reached out her hand to slowly touch one of the flowers. The plant did not react and as River pulled her hand away, Rose saw that there was silver dust on her fingers where she'd touched the flower. River brought it to her nose to smell and raised her eyebrows.

"That is incredible," said River, looking at the plant in wonder.

"What?" asked Rose, and River held out her hand for Rose to smell the silver dust as well.

Rose expected the scent of Azalea's perfume again, but to her shock, she recognised her own perfume. She chuckled in disbelief. "Can't believe a flower is smelling like Britney Spears' Fantasy."

River chuckled as well. "You are quite intelligent," she told the plant. "Would you mind if I plucked one of the flowers?"

The humming remained consistent, and River nodded and slowly plucked one of the roses. Rose couldn't help but lean closer as River held up the flower and observed it carefully. It was shaped like an ordinary rose and despite the unusual colour, there was nothing in the texture of the petals that indicated it was anything but a rose. Rose reached out a finger to touch the petals tentatively and got the same silver dust on her fingers, which now smelled like River's perfume.

"Do you have a name?" asked Rose, as she turned to the plant. There was no response and Rose felt slightly foolish, but to their surprise, one of the flowers from the plant fell off and the petals scattered on the floor.

Rose blinked at the plant but River immediately knelt on the ground and Rose followed suit a moment later. To her absolute shock, there appeared to be scratches in the scattered petals, almost like it was writing though Rose did not recognise the language.

"Calpurnius," said River, looking at the plant in wonder.

"You can read that?" asked Rose, startled.

River jumped as if guilty, but Azalea and Daniel returned to the conservatory right at that moment. River immediately went over to them and started asking questions about their notes. Rose stared at her and then down at the petals again. She definitely could not read the writing; couldn't even identify the script. She didn't understand why River could read it and why she had looked so startled and guilty when Rose had caught her out.

Rose pulled out the notebook and pen she had brought with her and did her best to copy the symbols onto a page. Rose was quite good at art but even she was having trouble copying them because of the unusual lines and strokes of the script.

"As far as I can see, it is an intelligent and sentient plant," Rose heard River tell Azalea and Daniel. "It doesn't seem to mean you harm in any manner."

"What is it that you're saying?" asked Azalea, and Rose stood up and looked at them.

River sighed. "I'm saying, I'm not sure what you want me to do here," she said. "You have clearly discovered something that hasn't been seen before. But it's not dangerous, and the two of you are better equipped to learn more about it than I will ever be."

Daniel placed a hand on Azalea's shoulder. "She's not wrong, Azalea," he said.

Azalea looked torn but nodded slowly. "Alright, I understand," she said. "Daniel and I will continue studying it. Thank you, River."

River smiled. "Of course," she said. "Keep us apprised of your progress, will you?"

"Yes, of course," said Azalea.

"Come on, Rose," said River, turning to her. "Time for us to go."

Rose had a million questions on her mind, but she nodded and decided to hold off until she was on her own with River. Daniel invited them to stay for tea but River insisted they had to return to the agency. Azalea called them a cab, and she and Daniel saw them off.

"Thank you for coming," said Azalea. "Send me an invoice for your fees, River."

"Certainly," nodded River.

"Bye," said Rose, shaking hands with Azalea and Daniel.

"Thank you both for being here," said Daniel.

As the cab pulled away from Knightsbridge, Rose turned to River but before she could speak, River shook her head.

"Wait until we get back to the shop," she said.

Rose closed her mouth indignantly but nodded. It was an uncomfortably silent cab ride and as soon as they got back, Rose turned to River.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded.

River sighed. "I assume you mean how I could read the writing on the petals," she said.

"Yeah, to begin with," said Rose.

River sighed again and walked to her desk. Rose thought she was stalling but she reached for the lower left drawer, the one that Rose knew she always kept locked, and unlocked it with a small key. Reaching inside, she pulled out a forest green leather bound journal with a gold leaf embossed in the centre.

"I told you, I'm an archaeologist," said River, looking at the journal instead of Rose. "I have gathered a lot of knowledge and learned a lot of unusual things." She held up the journal. "This contains stories of my travel; all the places I have been and all the things I have seen and done." She smiled at the confused look on Rose's face and placed the journal back in the drawer before locking it up again. "I might show you some of those things someday, but not yet. You're not ready."

Rose bristled at her tone. "I'm not a kid!" she said.

River raised her eyebrows. "Yes, you are," she said, firmly. "In terms of everything that matters, you are still a child." Before Rose could get even more furious than she was, River sighed deeply. "Everything about us is a series of choices, Rose. You chose to walk into this shop and you want to delve deeper into this world which you have never experienced before. But you are still hesitant. To me, that says that you can still walk away from it."

Rose's brow wrinkled in confusion. "You want me to leave?" she asked.

River looked torn but shook her head. "I want you to make a choice of your own free will, not because of anyone's influence. Including mine," she said.

"I did make this choice of my own will," argued Rose. "I chose to come here. I chose to work here. I chose to come with you and learn from you."

River blinked at her and smiled a little. "Yes, I supposed you did," she said, and then took a deep breath. "Tell me, Rose," she began. "Have you heard of the Doctor?"

"Doctor what?" asked Rose.

River shrugged. "They're part of the reason why I became an archaeologist," she said. "They're a myth, a legend, of sorts. Most of those legends say they are a traveller, a wanderer who has seen all of the universe."

"Like an alien?" asked Rose, in disbelief. "You're having me on."

River did not look like she was joking. "Is it really so hard to believe that in a universe as vast as ours there are worlds besides the one we live in?" she asked.

Rose stared at her but then nodded slowly. It made sense; just in a purely mathematical sense if nothing else. But she was still having a hard time believing River's words. "That plant from today? Calpurnius," she said. "Was that alien?"

River nodded. "I believe so," she said. "I don't know how it came to Earth, but it seems to be adapting."

"You're crazy," said Rose, her voice a bit faint.

River smiled sardonically. "Can you explain how a plant was communicating with us, growing flowers spontaneously and mimicking the scent of people around it?" she asked.

Rose went silent and glanced away. "It's just…" she said, finally. "It sounds so...unbelievable."

"Yes, but it isn't a question of belief, Rose," said River, seriously. "You saw what you saw today with your own eyes. You heard the plant, touched it, smelled it. It isn't blind faith, Rose, you experienced it yourself."

Rose was quiet, and was glad that River let her mull over those words without interrupting. "Are there more?" asked Rose, finally, looking at River.

"What?" asked River.

"More things, like-like Calpurnius?" asked Rose.

"Yes," said River.

Rose had known the answer, but having River confirm it made it more real. Then she suddenly remembered something River had said to Azalea and Daniel. "You told them it wasn't dangerous," she said. "What if it had been?"

River blinked but then sighed. "If the plant had meant them harm, I would have asked it to stop," she said.

"And if it had refused?" asked Rose.

"Then I would have found a way to stop it," said River, with a hint of steel in her voice.

"Would you have killed it?" asked Rose.

"Not if there was another way," said River, and Rose believed her.

Rose nodded slowly. "So, this Doctor, have you met them?" she asked.

River looked at her but then shook her head. "No, I have just heard the stories," she said.

"So they might not even be real," said Rose, confused.

"Maybe," shrugged River. "But the stories have me fascinated, so I will keep looking for them. My own white whale, so to speak."

Rose nodded, but then remembered something else. "It still doesn't explain how you could read the writing, if it was alien," she said.

River smiled at her, eyes glittering with amusement. "I told you, I have seen a lot of things in my time, Rose. Including aliens," she said.

Rose's eyes went wide. "You mean-?"

"I mean, I have a few tricks up my sleeve, including the ability to read alien languages and knowing when artefacts are real or fake," she said.

"Are you an alien?" asked Rose, feeling stupid.

River didn't laugh like she half-expected, and shook her head instead. "I am human," she said. "My parents are human, too. Born in England, both of them."

Rose was a bit relieved when she heard that. It was one thing to come to terms with the fact that there were aliens, and a whole another that her boss was one of them.

River smiled a little. "Why don't you go home, Rose?" she suggested. "It's been a long day."

It was just after midday but Rose knew River was right. The day had been exhausting and this conversation had given Rose a lot to think about as well.

With a nod at River, Rose gathered her things and went home. On her way home, she passed the stationery shop and paused. Making up her mind, she went inside and browsed the section which housed the journals. Finally, she found a black leather bound journal with light pink pages and purchased it.

When she got home, Rose opened the first page and wrote the date in the corner before starting to write about Calpurnius. In one corner, she carefully sketched out one of the flowers, trying to make it look as realistic as possible, with only a biro to assist her.

As she finished writing about Calpurnius, she thought back to her conversation with River and slowly wrote down one word: 'Doctor'. She paused, and then slowly drew a question mark next to it.

Unbeknownst to her, in her shop, River was writing down the day in her own journal.

"This isn't easy, you know. I don't like lying to you," she murmured seemingly to herself, as she came to the end of the entry. "I hope I did the right thing today."

There was no answer, and there was no one apart from her in the shop either. Not that she was expecting there to be either.

"Rose Tyler," she murmured. "Bad Wolf."