It isn't the last time they see each other, and now that he's certain that she isn't a figment of his imagination, they quickly establish a sort of relationship.
A professional working relationship, of course, consisting mostly of Rose helping him on certain cases and Hardy taking her out to lunch.
He learns that she came to Broadchurch following the trail of an alien—a Weevil, she called it—that had developed a taste for snacking on women; her team neutralized the threat, which explained why the so-called serial killer had disappeared.
Turns out, Broadchurch is built around a small rift in time and space—"Not as big as Cardiff, thank God! That would be a nightmare."—which attracts Earthbound aliens and the like. The rift was dormant for a long time, but Rose's arrival from the other dimension—multiple dimensions, he's still getting used to the idea—seems to have activated it.
"That's why we're here," she tells him one day over tea, because she doesn't drink coffee either. "Torchwood is establishing a Broadchurch office to protect the town, deal with the flotsam and jetsam that will be coming through, and limit how much people know. If they knew the big picture, that there are aliens and the like walkin' round Broadchurch—this place would be blown off the map before you could say, nuke it from orbit."
He also discovers that the reason no one else ever noticed her was something called a perception filter. The way she explained it, it was a sort of telepathic field around a person or object that kept people from noticing it. She'd been using it to examine Broadchurch and the rift without interference, to get a feel for what she'd be dealing with; she'd spoken to some of the long-time alien residents, and they, of course, wanted to stay anonymous. Couldn't do that with a stranger waltzing around town. Only certain people could see through a perception filter, and it was just her luck that he happened to be one of 'em.
She does apologize for making him look crazy with a bottle of scotch, so that sort of makes up for it.
It also doesn't hurt when, one lunch hour he's ready to work straight through, she struts right through the front doors of Broadchurch PD headquarters, flashes the badge he still hasn't seen, and plops herself on his desk when he's in the middle of a conversation with Miller.
"So, I was thinking the Traders' for lunch, 'cause it's pretty close by and I really love their chips," she starts babbling, as if she hasn't just conveniently sat on top of his case file. "Or, we could go to that little French bistro—you're choice, Alec, since I picked last time. And you must be DS Miller, right? Alec's talked 'bout you before, nice to meetcha."
It still surprises Hardy—she can call him 'Alec' all she likes, mostly because he hasn't figured out how to stop her, but he still thinks of himself as Hardy—how Rose can streamline from one thought to another and make it seem totally natural. She says it's because she lived with this man—the Doctor, the first Doctor, with the big ears and Northern accent—who could talk a mile a minute without breathing, and the only way she could get a word in edgewise was if she did the same.
It surprises Miller, too, because for several long seconds, she just stands there gaping instead of saying something. Hardy can certainly relate; he remembers that feeling, from when he first met Rose. He doesn't think that Rose has slowed down, but rather, he's sped up, and she still leaves him in the dust half the time. Lucky for Hardy, she knows what it feels like and is more than willing to slow down and explain.
Finally, Miller manages to say, "You're her, Hardy's mystery blonde. You're real?" She turns to Hardy. "She's real?"
Rose laughs, and if she was anyone else, it would sound condescending, but the thing about Rose is that she manages to be constantly in charge of the situation and keep everyone else at ease—at the same time.
"Yeah, all real here, last time I checked." She pauses, and Hardy wants to groan, because he's come to know and dread that look. That look means Rose is about to do or say something that's going to make Hardy question her sanity.
"Well, I think I'm real. How do you know if you're real? Maybe I'm not. Maybe we're not. Maybe nothing we've ever known is real. Or, maybe everything is. I call 'em like I see 'em, m'am, because if I think too hard about if I'm real or not, maybe I'll start to doubt it."
She offers Miller her hand, which the other woman takes, after a moment's hesitation.
"Please, no m'am. Call me Ellie."
"Rose—Rose Tyler. So, Ellie, join us for lunch? Alec's paying."
As Rose and Ellie—no, dammit, Miller walk towards that French café, arm in arm, chatting happily about whatever it is women talk about, Hardy is nostalgic for the days when he didn't have to worry about his partner and his…whatever Rose is bonding and conspiring against him.
Simpler days, yeah?
But a little voice in his head—a voice that sounds suspiciously like himself speaking in a British accent—whispered, you wouldn't have it any other way.
oOoOoOo
Okay, so I've got a few more chapters in this one-two, I think. I'll upload next week, or as soon as I get some reviews to cheer me up. I got my wisdom teeth removed today and I feel like crap, so I could use the self-esteem boost.
Hope you enjoy, please review and let me know. Since it's un-beta'd, please let me know if you see any errors.
~Nagi