Summary: Rose, in London, in 2005, has cobbled together a life. But what happened to the Doctor? And what is the song that keeps playing in the back of her head?

Notes: I hereby disclaim all the songs mentioned in this chapter.

Things the notes to last chapter were too long to hold: this story is actually finished. So I'm afraid I can't respond to reviews or anything (which is actually against ffn policy now anyway-- fascists). All the chapter titles are from 'Hotel California'; looking up the lyrics might give you a little bit of a head start. (Though it wouldn't give you the mood. It's a very atmospheric song.) If this tactic seems familiar, you've probably read Cryptile's "Hey Now Hey Now", which is a much better fic. I didn't even try to copy her structure; this is much more straightforward. If you haven't read it, make that next on your to-do list; her stuff is extraordinary. It's not that often I envy other writers.

I'd also like to reiterate that this is not a Reinette hate-fic. I know Rose hates the new girl, but that, for many reasons, doesn't mean anything. Now, there's a certain other character that gets some flack... but I don't dare reveal that yet. And... yeah. Done now.

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And still those voices are calling from far away

"Is there a country song about this?" Rose asked, swinging her feet a little as she looked down at the floor.

Molly, her bespectacled, self-contained American coworker, glanced back at her, from her work tagging jumpers. "About what, exactly? Working in a department store?"

"No," Rose said. "About your... kind of boyfriend dumping you for a stupid French tart an' kicking you out of his-- place."

Molly blinked. "Well, that'd depend on how fussy you're gonna be about the 'French' part."

"Not very."

"Ah. Then yes, there are many, many songs about that. In fact-- maybe most of them. Definitely most of them if you don't get gender-specific."

"Maybe I should start listening to it, then." She shot a stormy look down at the floor.

"'Well, you took my wife'," Molly sang, in a Southern drawl much more pronounced than her normal heavily diluted accent. "'And you took my kids...'"

"Oh, you're kidding me."

"No, I'm serious. There's a million variations on it. 'I'm givin' up on love, 'cause love's given up on me'... That's the angry. One called 'There is No Arizona', that's more sad. Then you got the funny ones, the lonely ones, the pleading, the ass-whuppin'..."

"'Ass-whuppin'?" Rose asked, laughing.

"Been around near as long as country music. Something Dolly Parton did... Or was it Loretta Lynn? Hell if I know, it was way before my time. Still, sixties or seventies, there was some song about how she'd whip this girl's ass if she tried to take her man. Well, not in those words, of course. I think it was called 'Fist City'. You can probably fill in the rest for yourself."

"Yeah, I think so," Rose said, and laughed again. "I would've loved to beat that tramp up."

"Yeah? What'd she do?" Molly glanced at her. "Besides the obvious."

"She's just so... I mean, she hated me. She thought I was a threat. She called me stupid, poor, said I was obviously his stupid, uncultured slut he kept around 'cos he hadn't realized what a real woman could do for him... Oh, and of course this wasn't while he was there. No, while he was around, she was all, 'Oh, Rose, isn't this delightful? Let's have tea and scones like you British do!' And he just-- fell for it. I mean--"

She gritted her teeth. "Maybe it's stupid of me, 'cos we weren't-- he wasn't actually my boyfriend. We never... did anything like that. But the second she walks by, suddenly he's pouncin' all over her like a cat in heat! Just ignores me, leaves me in the middle of nowhere with no way home just to go save-- pick her up. Just all of a sudden! An' she always makes all our arguments look like they're my fault, an' I just can't stand seein' him look like an idiot anymore, so I ask him to drop me off home and he just does. All the things we'd been through together, an' he just says, 'Well, if that's what you want, Rose. See you around.'"

"Wow," said Molly.

"Yeah." She kicked the counter. "Men."

"So I hear." Molly shook her head. "All gonads, no brains."

"But see, that's the thing that's drivin' me crazy. He was never like that before. Never."

Molly shook her head helplessly. "I wish I could help you," she said, "but this really isn't my area of expertise. I mean, I don't know the first bloody thing about relationships. Now, algebra, I could maybe help you."

Rose perked up. "Could you really? 'Cos I'm doin' some studiyin' for my A-levels, an'--"

"Your what?"

"A-levels. They're things you have to have to get into University. Here, at least."

"Ah." Molly nodded. "Yeah, I could maybe help you with some stuff, but I don't know if I've got the time. Between this and school, I've got a pretty full load."

"Ah, yeah." Rose belatedly remembered that Molly had a special scholarship, in law or something, that unfortunately didn't cover her living expenses. "Yeah, that must be hard. But I know London, right? Maybe we could go out for dinner of somefin, I can teach you how to get around town an' you can try to teach me some maths or history or-- anyfing, really. I mean, I'm not expectin' miracles, I'm not expectin' you to coach me all the way or somethin', but-- I learn easier when I actually hear it some, you know? Not when I'm just readin' it in a book."

"Makes sense, yeah." Molly smiled hesitantly. "That's... probably a good idea, yeah. I could use a few friends. 'Specially ones who know London, so... yeah, I guess so."

"Great." Rose smiled at her and jumped off the counter. "By the way..."

"Yeah?"

"There's this... this song I keep hearin', in my head. I've got no idea where I heard it, but I just can't get it out of my head. It goes like..." Rose hummed a few bars of the melody, which was haunting enough as it was, without being a constant half-heard presence in the back of her mind.

"'Head grew heavy and my sight grew dim, I had to stop for the night,'" Molly sang, nodding.

"You know it?! What is it? It's been driving me mad, not knowing."

"'Hotel California'. By a band called the Eagles, back in the seventies. My dad loved 'em. Had a tape of their live reunion show." She laughed, embarassed. "I loved that song so much I had him make a cassette of that one song, over and over. I was-- a bit crazy, yeah."

"Oh," said Rose, wondering what on Earth was going on. "Well. At least I know what it is now."

Even if she didn't know why she kept hearing it, over and over, in the back of her mind.

Right where the TARDIS used to sing.

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