Soli Deo gloria

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Doctor Who. Thank you for the feedback!

Mrs. Decker headed toward the back of the house, saying as she opened the back door, "You see, he's sort of into that sort of thing. He—he was, anyway."

Rose nodded and turned to the Doctor, frowning. He carefully stepped over the cat, which was sleeking along and rubbing itself against his legs. The Doctor wasn't much for cats, and this one was probably the worst he had ever dealt with.

"You listening to this? He was into aliens, thought they're real and all that," Rose said quietly, ignoring the Doctor's annoyed grimace.

"You don't believe aliens are real, Rose?" the Doctor asked her, sounding surprised as they came to the back door.

"Sure, they could be real. I guess so. Whatever, but he has a hobby of hunting for aliens? I mean, who does that besides those Mars rovers?" Rose asked, sounding curious as she joined Mrs. Decker in the drab backyard.

"What do you think I do in my spare time, Rose Tyler?" the Doctor grinned, standing next to her as he closed the back door, shutting the cat in the house and away from him.

Rose threw him a look which he returned with a mischievous one as Mrs. Decker continued, pointing to an old shed in need of a new coat of paint, "That's his shed. He called it his 'lab'."

"Did he actually have laboratory supplies in there? Syringes? Beakers? You know, all the usual like? Microscope?" the Doctor asked quickly, hurrying to match Mrs. Decker's fast pace. Rose jotted down on her pad as she walked behind them, her eyes looking curiously on to the ordinary looking shed. She was now very interested in what was in there, for the Doctor seemed to be very enthusiastic. He hunted for aliens in his spare time? Rose was sure she would have noticed that.

"He's got his laptop in there. Spent a lot of time in there," Mrs. Decker fussed as she stopped in front of the door. She pulled a key out of her pocket and fitted it in.

The Doctor tapped his foot against the ground and said, "So, did he find any?"

"Any what?" Mrs. Decker asked.

"Aliens? Found any? Any evidence? Or nothing at all?" the Doctor asked quickly with an innocent look on his face. "Any traces or prints or DNA or ship parts?"

"No," Mrs. Decker said slowly. "He would have told me otherwise."

"Yeah, all right then," the Doctor said. He turned to Rose. "He found nothing."

"That's all right," Rose said.

"But I wanted to see alien stuff," the Doctor said as Mrs. Decker unlocked the door and slipped in. "All there's going to be is a laptop."

"A laptop can have a ton of things, Doctor," Rose reminded him.

"Very true, Rose Tyler, very true," the Doctor said, and waving his hand out, added, "girls first."

"Age before beauty," Rose said teasingly.

"I'm not that much older than you," the Doctor said jokingly but he slipped into the shed anyway.

It was a regular sized shed, meaning it was barely able to hold the three of them and a desk with a laptop on it, all closed up. The Doctor looked about; all there was beside the laptop was a container filled with soda cans, a basket with bananas and bread and some sort of lotion; a bunch of hay littered the floor.

"How much time did he stay in here?" Rose asked, looking about.

"Two or three hours after he'd come home from work," Mrs. Decker said quietly. She stroked the laptop with her hand, saying, "I'd have to bring him in his supper."

"What exactly . . . was he doing in here?" the Doctor said. He wrinkled his face and said, "Nothing much except—oh!" He reached down and squatting, said, "Glove me, Rose, you're the one with the purse!" Rose quickly fumbled into her purse and pulled out a pair of gloves for him, sticking a pair in the crook of her arm for herself. She handed them to him, and he quickly put them on and grabbed the basket and held it up. "Bananas!" he said excitedly.

"Are those important?" Mrs. Decker wondered.

"Nah, he just has a thing for them," Rose said before saying hastily, "why is there food in here? Was he snacking?"

"I'm not sure," Mrs. Decker said. "He never once wanted bananas before. Though, about two days ago, he asked me if I could buy him some bananas. I brought them to him, but apparently he never ate them."

"He never ate them," Rose said to herself.

"Yes. Why would he want me to buy him bananas when he didn't even eat them?" Mrs. Decker asked before pulling out her handkerchief and blowing her nose like a trumpet.

"We're not sure," Rose said, writing down on her paper. Sticking her pen behind her ear, she sighed and said, "Mrs. Decker, we're going to have to take the laptop."

"Whatever for?" Mrs. Decker asked, looking up from her hankie to Rose with a stricken expression.

"To check it out for evidence. To look at the history and emails of whatever he's been doing. Is that all right with you?" Rose asked her, knowing that Mrs. Decker would probably want to keep her son's personal information stowed away.

"Oh, I suppose. Anything to find out who killed and why he was killed," Mrs. Decker said quietly, sounding rather defeated.

"I promise, if there's nothing, I'm make sure it gets back to you unharmed," Rose said.

"Oi, don't promise her that, Rose. Mickey could very well destroy this thing when he takes a look at it," the Doctor said quickly. He looked to Mrs. Decker and gave her an apologetic, "Sorry."

"I'll ask him to put it back together, Doctor," Rose said quickly, with an indignant look.

"All right. Should have you know, though, computer repairman once killed my friend Sarah Jane's master computer. She was properly angry," the Doctor added.

"Mickey isn't a computer repairman," Rose reminded the Doctor before turning to Mrs. Decker and saying, "Thank you very much, ma'am. We're sorry about your son."

"You will find out who did this, won't you?" Mrs. Decker wondered.

"Oh, yeah," Rose said, nodding quickly.

"Most definitely," the Doctor said before giving the basket a sniff. "Probably should take the basket, too."

The Doctor and Rose found themselves walking down the street, Rose holding a pad and laptop and the Doctor holding the basket.

"What's up with you, Rose?" the Doctor asked, having noticed her being quiet.

"I was just wondering. Do you really go hunting for aliens after work?" Rose asked, looking to the Doctor, hoping she didn't sound like she was prying.

"I don't hunt them, no. Why would you want to hunt an alien? Aliens are magnificent creatures. No need to harm them," the Doctor said cheerfully. "I search and research and then research the research for aliens. Fascinating things, really."

"Ever actually seen one?" Rose asked.

"A couple of times," the Doctor muttered.

"Don't those men in black come in with their helis and sunglasses and stuff, like in the movies?" Rose asked curiously.

The Doctor shook his head with a smile and said, "Haven't seen any of those yet. Don't believe everything you see on the telly, Rose Tyler."

"I don't," Rose said before she teasingly bumped him and said, "that's Detective Rose Tyler to you, Doctor."

"That's Detective Doctor," the Doctor said quickly.

"That's the strangest name I have ever heard," Rose told him.

The Doctor's eyes twinkled as he said, "Says Detective Rose Tyler."

"My name's not strange!" Rose said with a laugh.

"It is a little," the Doctor said teasingly.

"Is not!" Rose said defensively, but with a laugh.

"All right, all right, it isn't THAT strange," the Doctor said. Rose smiled and nodded. The Doctor raised an eyebrow as they approached the petrol station and said sincerely, "It's actually a very pretty name."

"Really?" Rose said as they ducked into the cab, the cab driver waving for them to go in.

"Really," the Doctor said with a smile as he looked at her. Rose smiled back at him as they closed the doors and settled in their seats.

"So, what do we have?" Jack asked as he took the swivel chair that went to Rose's desk. She threw him a look as the Doctor, wearing his glasses, carefully arranged the evidence on the desk.

"Shouldn't we be taking these for tests?" Mickey asked, looking concerned.

"Yeah, we should," Rose said. "We will. When we're done."

The Doctor took out his screwdriver and pressing the button, stood up straight and ran it over the top of the laptop and then the contents of the basket.

"Anything?" Rose asked.

The Doctor brought his screwdriver up to his eyes and said after a moment, "Nothing but humany, wumany fingerprints."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mickey asked.

"Don't ask," Rose said. She turned to the Doctor and said, "Whose fingerprints?"

"Nothing but Harvey's and his mum's," the Doctor said. "See? All done. No need to take them to tech."

"How do you know that?" Mickey asked.

"You got a fingerprint record of his mum's fingerprint?" Rose asked the Doctor incredulously.

"Yeah," the Doctor said with a grin. He picked up the laptop and practically tossed it to Mickey. He caught it, fumbling around for a second or two before his fingers gripped it. He looked back at the Doctor, annoyed, as the Doctor said, "Got her print off of the shed's doorknob. Shows that no one but her and Harvey went in that shed, or at least touched the knob, which is pretty much the only way to get into that shed. Mick, I want you to check out the history of the computer, and find out what he's been doing on it."

"I can do that?" Mickey asked.

"His mum said you could check it out. Just, don't kill it," Rose told him.

"I wasn't going to download a virus or anything, Rose," Mickey said.

"You know what I mean," Rose told him with a cheeky smile.

"Anything you want me to do, Doctor?" Jack asked, swiveling about in Rose's chair.

"Contact the guy's boss, see if anything's happened at his work," the Doctor said.

Jack nodded and standing up, said, "On it." He cracked his back as he walked past Rose and Mickey, saying, "I need to not go on those things."

Rose nodded and the Doctor said, "And for us, we'll get to the de-cracking of these suspicious looking food. And lotion."

"All right. Guess I'll be stuck here," Mickey said cheerlessly.

"Hey. It's your turn to see who wants what from Ships and Chips," Rose told Mickey as the Doctor hurried the basket away to his own desk across the floor. They had a system in the office that someone had to go get orders and lunch for everyone.

Mickey sighed. "Again?"

"Yeah, sorry," Rose said. She looked at him for a moment and said, "Be sure to include Donna too."

"Why?"

"Because. That's why," Rose said hastily. She looked around and said, "Martha still with the body?"

"Nah. She headed home," Mickey said.

"Oh. Okay, then," Rose nodded quickly.

Mickey asked, "What do you want?"

"Just fish and chips," she said as Mickey said at the same time, "The usual?"

"Right," Rose said, and Mickey nodded. Rose nodded as well and quickly started to make her way over to the Doctor before hastily turning to Mickey, saying, "Hey, Mick."

"Yeah?" Mickey asked.

"Did Martha find a different cause of death?"

Mickey shook his head and said, "Just exploding skin."

"All—all right, then," Rose said before she turned and went back to the Doctor. Mickey sighed and put the laptop on the desk before he hurried off, going to see if Donna wanted fish and chips or a fried fish sandwich with chips.

Rose arrived at the Doctor's desk to see him have his folded arms on his desk. His head sat on his arms, and his eyes were level with the basket. He had the bread and bananas and lotions on a paper towel.

"Trying to be professional?" Rose asked teasingly as she grabbed an empty swivel chair and brought it over for her to sit. She did so, and put her head between her hands and said, "Anything unusual?"

"Nope. Pretty basic bread and bananas, really," the Doctor said. He drew out the screwdriver and passed it over, still keeping his eyes level. He shook his head and pocketed it, saying, "Nothing but your stereotypical factory bread."

"What about the bananas?" Rose said. "They look normal. Which is weird." Bananas in a shed that was used to house a guy who hunted aliens was indeed a weird thing.

"Normal, so's the lotion," the Doctor said, bumping the lotion with his gloved finger. "Yep, normal. It's used for killing germs on your skin and stuff. 'Bout a third gone. That's about it."

"But why did he have this stuff in his shed? He wasn't just going to be eating bread and bananas and keep his hands clean in there, was he?" Rose asked, looking to the Doctor.

"Sounds like something I would do," the Doctor said with a smile.

"Honestly?" Rose asked with a laugh.

"Most definitely," the Doctor said, the playful smile still on his face.

Rose looked at him for a moment before she said, "What else do you like doing besides eating food and acting like a nerdy introvert?"

"I like going out to the pub," the Doctor said. He looked up from the evidence and caught her eyes and added, "Do you?"

"Oh, yeah," Rose said quickly. "Yeah, love pubs."

"Wanna head over to the one after work?" the Doctor asked her slowly after a moment.

Rose looked at him for a moment, almost incredulous. "Which one?" she said slowly when she caught on to what he was saying. Maybe he didn't mean it that way, but it sounded as if he was asking her out for a pint.

"The one everyone usually goes to. We just go together," the Doctor said patiently, though he sounded like he had surprised himself for saying it. Rose looked at him for a moment, contemplating, and he added, "You don't have to if you don't want to. It's—"

"Wednesday?" she asked excitedly.

"Yeah, all right," he said with a smile.

"Sure," Rose said with a grin. "Wednesday."

That morning after she had done her job of examining Harvey Decker, Martha was able to get off work for the rest of the day. Still dressed in her work clothes, she rushed over to her mother's, knowing that her sister Trish was busy and her dad was more painful than helpful and her brother was at work and that her mum needed someone with her after what had happened.

The place was cleared by the time she came up to her mum's street. She drove slowly, though, and opened her window, despite the cold, and peeked out and looked at the place where it had been scattered in blood just that morning. She gulped, remembering the scene, and stuck her head back into her car. She pulled up to her mother's and quickly went up to the front door.

She took out a key, for she had one that she never gave back to her mother when she moved out, and quickly entered. She hung up her jacket, calling, "Mum, it's Martha!" She went into the kitchen, saying, "I came home early. Wanted to see if you're all right."

She turned and saw that her mother was arranging some flowers in a vase, and the tea kettle on the stove whistled.

"How are you doing?" Martha asked, looking concerned.

"I'm doing well enough," Francine said curtly. "I've been doing fine all morning. Interesting you actually cut short work."

Martha frowned as her mother took down two cups and said, "Mum, I had to examine the body. I had to do something or else it would count as a sick day."

"Wouldn't want that, now would you?" Francine said crisply as she poured out the tea. "How much sugar?"

"I don't need tea, Mum," Martha said. Despite the fact that tea was the one thing that found its way into anything crisis, she did not want any right now.

"Sure?" Francine said.

"Yeah, Mum," Martha said before taking a deep breath and saying, "can I help you with anything?"

"I'm fine. I'm going to work on my scrapbooking later, but I'm all right," Francine said.

Martha's eyebrows furrowed and said, "Well, do you want me to make anything for you?"

"I'm fine, Martha," Francine said.

"Do you want to talk at all, then?" Martha said, sounding a bit frustrated at her mum's shoot downs.

"I'm actually all right," Francine said curtly.

"Should I just go, then?" Martha asked, annoyed. "Mum, I got myself off work early when I could be working on this case, trying to resolve it, but I came to talk to you. You saw a dead body this morning, Mum, and I came around to see if I could help you at all. Apparently, you don't want any help."

"I'm fine, Martha," Francine said in an angry voice.

That was all that Martha needed hear. She straightened and said, "I'm heading home, then," and headed out the door, knocking down the stand as she swiped off her jacket.

Late in the evening, Mickey was at his desk, griping to himself as he clicked about on the laptop. He had done a pretty thorough job, though there was nothing he found. No history, nothing in messages of sorts. Still, he had spent several hours already on it, and he was determined to find something of value for the time he spent working on it.

He had bid good night to the boss of the department, Master Harold Saxon, and was the only one there besides a few officers that were guarding the people in the holding cells a floor from him. So he was left alone in the computer light, a half drunken soda on his left, a cold coffee that Donna had delivered him before she got off to his right.

"There has got to be something," Mickey muttered to himself as he searched through the answers to 'bananas bread hand sanitizer'. There was nothing.

Back at her house, dressed in a tank and sweat shorts, Martha sat cross-legged on her swivel chair in front of her computer, trying to find anything that might have to have to do with the murder.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing," she said, sighing. She shook her head and thought for a moment. A moment later, her hands flew across the keyboard. "'Exploding skin alien,'" she muttered under her breath. She was not sure why she had put in 'alien'. Nobody had mentioned anything about aliens or called her at all that day. Something in her mind just told her to put it in.

"Something, something, come on," Mickey said. He frowned and after a moment, typed 'alien exploding skin.' The Doctor and Rose had mentioned something about the victim being interested in aliens or something. Might as well try the weird when he had thought of everything else.

To Martha's surprise, a limited amount of sites came up, all attached to something called Torchwood.

"Torchwood?" she said as she clicked on it. All she got was a screen demanding a password, something she didn't have. Martha shook her head and exed out the browser. She closed her laptop but stayed in her seat. This was something she might bring up with Mickey tomorrow. He was the computer geek.

To Mickey's annoyance, there was a password that had to be put in. Using his overriding know-it-all, he put in and looked closely at the screen when it said it still needed a password.

"Oi," he muttered as he sat back in his seat. He put his hands up and said, "I'm done." He stood up and began to gather his things, saying, "I'll do it tomorrow." He left the laptop on the desk so that it would be waiting for him in the morning and he hurried to the lift, anxious to get some sleep.

I hope you liked it, and thanks for reading!