Author's Note: Mad, MAD thanks to everyone who's "followed" or "favorited" this story, and the first reviewer! I'm a little stunned at that level of response to a first chapter. I do hope I don't disappoint! I own nothing. Absolutely nothing. All hail the BBC for finding a legal way to distribute crack.

Rose's dusty field clothes lay in a pile in the corner of her room. Freshly showered, she regarded the dress laying on the bed waiting for her. Jackie had picked it out, naturally, and once upon a time, Rose would have adored it. It was the epitome of the Little Black Dress. Now, her tactical gear was like a second skin, a uniform as much as her dear Doctor's aged leather coat or his successor's smart, pin-stripe suits. The dress was quite smart, itself, classic and alluring. She ought to be thrilled.

With a labored sigh and a rueful smile, Rose got dressed. She strapped on the turquoise heals her mom had picked out and replaced her plain stud earrings with the diamond tear-drop ones Pete had bought her for her birthday. She applied her makeup, and, considering for a moment, combed out her hair, leaving it down. Outside bathing, she'd not left her hair down in months. It simply wasn't practical in her line of work.

As she was finishing, she glanced longingly at the nightstand. There, simple and unassuming, lay a men's watch. It had a black strap that fastened by a buckle, and a white, rectangular face with roman numerals. It was broken. The hands were permanently stuck at 8:23. She assumed the regeneration energy had stopped it. The new Doctor had had no reservations about her keeping it, so, she had. For a time, it was tucked away among her things, but after the Battle of Canary Wharf; after her exile to the parallel universe; she'd worn it every day. Jackie hated it.

Rose stood, fiddling with one of the diamond earrings. She could hide it. The last several years she regularly wore a collection of bracelets: paracord survival bracelets, leather straps, bands of copper or iron, and a couple hand-dyed silk wraps strung with beads. All gathered from the farthest reaches of the planet. All reminders of everything she'd done and built and been since she lost The Doctor. The watch could hardly be seen among them. Jackie would still know, however. She always did, and after being gone so long this trip, Rose wanted very much to do something, some small thing to make her mum happy.

Rose snatched up the watch and strapped it on, just as she'd decided she wouldn't. One by one, she slipped or tied on her collection of bracelets, carefully hiding the watch. She didn't want to hurt her mum, not even a little, but this was bigger than all that. After failing to make the dimension canon operational, failing to return to her Doctor, to watch his back as the great git so frequently needed, she wore the watch as a sort of promise. A promise that she still remembered him, still fought for him, even when she couldn't fight at his side.

Finishing, she regarded herself in the mirror. She looked a proper contradiction in her designer dress and diamond earrings with a random assortment of mismatched, dented, and tattered bracelets on both wrists. Gypsy chic, she thought, and the corner of her mouth tilted up in a sardonic smile.

"You like pretty," a little voice came from the bedroom door behind her, and Rose spun around with a proper smile.

"Tony!" Rose exclaimed, and she rushed forward, scooping her half-brother up in a massive hug.

"Rosie!" Tony squealed as she swung him about. He was the only person in that, or any, universe allowed to call her that, not that she could have stopped him. She was "Rosie" to him, ever since he'd learned to speak. Now, at nine, he was almost too big to pick up, and he still called her Rosie.

"What trouble have you been causin' since I been gone?" Rose asked, finally putting him down and seating herself in an armchair by the door.

"All I can," Tony assured, grinning broadly. His eyes were the same dark hazel as her own, but harbored significantly more mischief.

"Right, and how's school goin'? You applying yourself?"

"Sometimes."

"Sometimes? You don't want to be like your daft sister, do you? I never took my A-levels, and now look at me. I'm thirty and still living with my parents." Rose teased him.

"But I do want to be like you!" Tony insisted, "I want to save the world. I got to save the school last month."

"Oh, really?!" Rose burst out laughing, "Did you burn down the cafeteria, then? Save everyone from Monday's mystery meat?"

"No!" Tony laughed, "I can't tell you." Rose paused a minute, a feeling of dread threatening to form in the pit of her stomach. Still, she held her smile, if a bit shakily.

"Don't be daft, you can tell me anything. I'm a secret agent, you know." She winked, poking him playfully in the ribs. Tony giggled.

"I thought you knew about it. With the aliens and all."

"Aliens?" Rose asked, the swell of dread growing. Still, she tried to maintain her humor.

"Yeah, you study aliens, right?"

"Off the record, yeah. But what would aliens be doing in Croydon?"

"I can't say." Tony smiled, tickled at knowing something his big sister didn't.

"Why can't you say?" she asked.

"He said not to."

"Who said?"

"The Doctor." Tony whispered. Every single thought fled from Rose's mind in an instant. The room suddenly felt chill.

"The school doctor?" she asked, mechanically, once she found her voice.

"No, just The Doctor." Tony shrugged, "He said it was over and not to tell anyone because he had to stay secret."

"What did he look like?" Rose asked, her heart pounding in her ears.

"Like The Doctor." Tony said, very matter-of-factly, and changed topics. "Mum says to tell you the party's started and to come downstairs." Rose was too stunned to answer immediately.

"Right," she breathed, finally shaking off the shock. It couldn't be The Doctor, and she knew it. Tony was confusing details, leaving chunks of the story out. He was only nine, she assured herself. She reached out and ruffled his shaggy blond hair. "Tell mum I'll be right down."

Tony was right, more than half the guests had arrived when Rose emerged from her room. Looking down from the top of the stairs, she was more than a little intimidated. Some of these people were her closest friends. Some she hardly knew at all. Others were parallel versions of people she'd known in her own universe and she could never quite feel confortable around them. She spotted Mickey and Julie down below, and she waved. She caught their attention, but unfortunately also her mother's.

"Oh, oh, oh! Everyone!" Jackie exclaimed, grabbing a cocktail fork from a passing server and clinking it against her champagne glass, "Everyone! Everyone, quiet! The guest of honor has arrived!" The crowd below settled down. A sea of people kitted out in their finest looked up at her all at once, and Rose forced a smile. This time, she actually was blushing.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Jackie proclaimed, "I have to apologize. I told the printer's a thousand times it was her twenty-ninth birthday, but they sent this. Must have been rounding up; that's the public school system for you. Regardless, please give her a big hand on celebrating her twenty-ninth birthday! Rose. Rose, sweetheart, come on down and say hello."

As the assembled revelers took up with applause, Rose descended the stairs. Her smile was sheepish, but genuine, and as she neared the landing she heard Mickey shout at her to take a bow. Feeling awkward and just a bit puckish, she obliged. Pausing on the landing, Rose swept her arms out and executed a few gracefully exaggerated bows. She tossed her head up after the last bow, laughing heartily. Mickey shot out a loud whistle, and Julie playfully slapped at his arm. Still laughing along with the guests, Rose continued down the stairs.

She could waste her time lamenting, she realized, or she could make the best of it. It was that attitude, hard-won after two years toiling away in the Torchwood Engineering Lab trying to make the dimension canon work, that had enabled her to move on after losing The Doctor. Embracing the frivolity and levity of the moment, Rose waded into the crowd. She chatted up old friends, important strangers, and at least three servers who somehow fell into her orbit. She poured all her charm and irreverent humor into the moment, and found she was genuinely enjoying herself.

Then, she saw him. The moment her gaze fell upon on his face, her good spirits fled. She stopped laughing, frozen in place. Considering her options with frenetic speed, she decided to turn away and pretend she didn't see him. Then he turned his head; he saw her, and she knew it was too late. Steeling herself, Rose walked calmly through the crowd, the din of revelry falling muffled on her ears. Within moments, she reached him; he and his new wife, who was nicely decked out in a gorgeous silk maternity gown. She was seven months if she was a day.

"Tom." Rose addressed, thankful her voice had come out calm and firm.

"Rose," he greeted, his smile warm and soft. She couldn't help staring a moment at his square features; the dark, enticing stubble that dusted his face; and his perfect lips. She'd set foot on every single continent with him. They'd spent three months at McMurdo, stranded in an off-season Antarctic storm. They'd rescued a stranded Anthelian from a modern-day lynch mob in Alabama. They'd made contact with a previously untouched tribe deep in the Amazon basin. They'd chased a full-grown rancor through the streets of Madrid.

"It's uh," Rose faltered, but held her smile "It's been awhile."

"Your mother invited me." Tom explained, looking apologetic, but not as awkward as Rose felt."

"Well, I assumed as much," Rose forced a chuckle, "How've you been?"

"Good, good. We're uh…" Tom paused gesturing toward his obviously pregnant wife.

"Yes, yes, I'd heard. Rather hard to miss, that." Realizing how that might be taken, Rose stammered on, "I mean, you look lovely, Martha. Hope you're doing well."

"Yes, quite well, thank you." Martha assured, a sheepish smile on her face. She'd been with Tom and Rose through all those Torchwood field missions. The three of them had been a team, and they'd been brilliant together. Rose realized she shouldn't have been as surprised as she was when Tom married Martha mere weeks after his divorce from Rose was final.

"Tom!" Jackie exclaimed, cutting through the crowd and effectively ending the tense conversation, "So good to see you, and Martha you look absolutely smashing! Doesn't she, Rose?" Rose opened her mouth to agree, but Jackie continued on without awaiting a reply, "I hate to interrupt, but there's someone I'd like you to meet, dear." Jackie took Rose's arm and started off. Rose, too bewildered to argue, followed.

Footnote: Almost there... Just one more chapter, I promise.