Author's Note: I don't own any of the Doctor Who characters. Not even a little. Makes me sad.

Also, before everyone collectively rises up against me, it's cool. Things will resolve. I know this is a terrible thing to say, coming from a stranger on the internet, but just trust me. The candy is safe, the cake is not a lie, and that windowless van doesn't belong to a serial killer.

GitaMerah: hehe, yeah, Wilf is the Tylers' estate manager. He bosses the butlers/maids around. I kinda enjoy taking characters I like and giving them random cameos in the parallel universe. Jake2490: Yes Rose absolutely knows how to throw a punch, and were this just any mission; were she cool, calm, and clear-headed; everything would have been just dandy. But, she was in a full on rage, she didn't plan on hitting him until he spoke, and she cracked him a lot harder than she intended. We've all done something stupid and hurt ourselves when we were just furious out of our minds. If you haven't, yet, add it to your bucket list. TiaKisu: I just love how you ask questions I can't answer yet. :D And I know, the separation thing sucks, but trust me. Again, the cake is not a lie. LadaHathaway: Yes, Rose is an asset for Torchwood, but Mickey is in a supervisory position, not over her directly, but he has authority she lacks, nonetheless. Also, other reasons, see below. Pete being the director didn't work for the crap I intended to pull, so it was conveniently ignored. We're all going to learn together, here, that I have no scruples. :D

After changing into fresh jeans and a tank top, Rose made her way downstairs. An industrial cleaning crew bustled around the ballroom and foyer gathering up the shards of glass and splintered wood from the tactical assault the night before. The massive windows along the southern and western walls of the house had been covered in industrial plastic sheeting which diffused the already overcast afternoon light. Being careful to stay out of the way, Rose made her way to the breakfast nook. As she pushed open the door, she was more than a little surprised to see Mickey's face.

Rose froze in the doorway for a second, and Mickey had the good grace to look at least a little ashamed. Wordless, Rose crossed to the tea service cart and poured herself a cup of Darjeeling. She pointedly ignored her friend, if he could be called such, and proceeded to carefully prepare her beverage. Just as she had finished stirring, the door swung open and Jackie and Pete walked in. Her mother immediately gathered her in a wordless embrace, and Rose held tight to her. Separating, Jackie looked up at her daughter, running hands over her cheeks while tears welled in her eyes.

"Oh, love, how are you feeling?" Jackie asked, and Rose knew she meant more than just the hand.

"Banged up a bit," Rose admitted with a rueful smile, "but I'll live, yeah?"

"Good, good," her mom refrained from pushing. Pete was waiting to the side, and Jackie reluctantly stepped away, so that he could take her place, wrapping the daughter of his heart in his arms.

"We'll get this sorted, love," he whispered in her ear before stepping back and giving her shoulders a brief squeeze. Jackie, meanwhile, had grown serious and was staring down the man seated at her breakfast table.

"And what are you doin' here?" Rose's mum asked, her tone low and level. Mickey knew full well he was in greater trouble when the older woman wasn't screeching at him.

"He came to deliver a check from the Torchwood Institute." Pete's tone was equally as critical for all its superficial equanimity, "Compensation for the – 'inconvenience.'" The family Tyler all stood facing him, and Mickey swallowed hard.

"Yes, sir. The Institute recognizes the damage done…" Mickey began, but Pete cut him off.

"Oh, bugger the Institute, and bugger the blasted windows," the older man took the check from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and tore it in half, letting the sundered pieces flutter to the floor, "A quarter of your funding comes from my company, besides. Let's talk about the damage you did, old man."

"Yeah," Jackie chimed in. Rose just stood, watching it all with equal parts surprise and amusement.

"I came for that, too." Mickey insisted, finally finding some courage and no small amount of indignation, "I had to do it. We have no idea what we're dealing with."

"Of course we do," Jackie admonished. She was the first to step forward and sit down at the table with Mickey, "How many times has that man saved the world? The universe? Saved Rose?"

"You never cease to amaze me, mum." Rose said, smiling and taking a set between Mickey and her mum. Pete finally did the same.

"What dear?" Jackie asked, "Oh, right, all that. I know I get cross about him sometimes, but I don't hate him. Not anymore, anyway. I know what he done for us."

"Nothin'," Mickey cut in, startling them all, "He's not done a thing, not this one, anyway. He's not our Doctor. We don't know who he is." Mickey glanced around the table, but when no one moved to stop him, he continued, "We been keepin' a file, yeah? Ever since I decided to stay in this universe, I started lookin' for 'im. I knew we couldn't have The Doctor around to – to do whatever it is he does to save the world all the time. So, I thought maybe this universe has its own Time Lords and things; it's own Doctor."

"So you knew he existed?" Rose asked, wounded, "You knew and you didn't tell me?"

"Would it have mattered?" Mickey asked, genuine sympathy plain on his face, "When you were left stranded here, would just any old Doctor have done?"

"No," Rose admitted.

"Right. For you, it's not just about bein' The Doctor. It was about your Doctor. I thought, after a time, you might be happy knowin' there was someone out there, takin' care of all the things that go to pot, but not then. Not when you just lost 'im."

"But I got past it, Mickey. Years ago. Why am I only findin' out 'bout it now?"

"I couldn't be sure, Rose. The trail, it's not as clear, here. There were accounts, but only a handful of pictures, and none of them matched either of the Doctors we knew."

"He regenerated several times before he met me," Rose pointed out.

"Right, but the accounts on this Earth stopped after about 1996. Long before you and I and our Doctor accidentally wound up here. And it's a good thing we ended up, here, too. Because this Doctor wasn't around when the Cybermen came. Something arose that could have threatened the whole of the universe, and he couldn't be bothered to even show up."

"Maybe something bigger was happening," Rose offered, her voice somber. They looked at each other a moment, and Mickey knew what she meant.

"Be that as it may," Mickey allowed, "He wasn't here. The evidence I had to act on was slim at best. We gathered what we could, kept it in a file; The Hippocrates File," Mickey half smiled, "Thought it up myself."

"Did you, now?" Rose couldn't help but grin at that.

"Yes I did," he asserted with all the feigned dignity he could muster, "and all this time passed with nothin' to add to it. I didn't tell you, Rose, because I thought – I thought maybe he was gone. I don't think he's invincible or anythin'. He could have died. Or, I thought, maybe he just didn't care about us, about Earth, that is. Neither was an answer I had the heart to give you."

"Right," Rose acquiesced, "So, what changed?" Mickey took a deep breath.

"We had a recording. It was the only thing we had to go on. I assumed, since the TARDIS from our universe couldn't draw energy, here, we couldn't use its energy signature to track the TARDIS in this universe. Lucky for us, in 1982, an answering machine owned by a family in Hounslow recorded a message from their son sayin' he'd be late home. In the background was this humming noise. A noise I recognized as soon as I heard it."

"The TARDIS materializing,"

"Right. The recording was bad, bein' analog and all, but we were able to digitize and isolate the sound. The pattern was fed into the database, and now every CCTV and phone line in the UK is keyed to pick up that sound and report it to us. Not perfect, mind. If he lands somewhere without CCTV coverage or outside the audible range of a telephone that's actively in-call, we won't hear it. Yesterday morning we got a hit."

"Where?" Jackie chimed in, enthralled. Rose's heart sank a little, nervously thinking about the surprise in her closet.

"A CCTV near Tower Bridge picked up the sound. It was within an hour of you landin' at Heathrow, Rose."

"Right. So why, then, did you come crashin' through my foyer instead of making contact that morning?" Pete asked.

"It was gone," Mickey said, simply, "Dematerialized before the Tac Team got there. We don't know where it landed, next. Didn't even know if it was still in the area."

"How'd you know he was here, then?" Rose asked. Mickey blushed.

"I had a hunch. Our Doctor, he was always off-course, yeah? Always being drawn somewhere he never intended by the TARDIS. I thought, what if you drew the TARDIS' attention. So," Mickey hesitated, averting his eyes to study the grain of the wooden table, "I had a surveillance team stake out your house."

"You were spyin' on us?!" Rose hissed, outraged.

"Only a little."

"A little?!"

"Yeah, I coulda' tapped your phones and your computers, you know? Probably even gotten a warrant to search the place. Ever since I brought 'im up, Torchwood has been far too keen to find 'im. They'd have done anything to catch 'im. Unfortunately, the surveillance team spotted 'im, crossin' the back lawn with that daft chicken under 'is arm." Mickey paused a moment, his face crinkling up, "What was that about, anyway?"

"Don't know," Rose shrugged, "Apparently not what it looked like, though."

"You spoke with 'im, then?"

"Sort of," she shrugged, not wanting to discuss it.

"I need to know, Rose. Did he seem like himself? Like The Doctor we knew?"

"I don't know, maybe. I didn't exactly stop and have a philosophical debate, yeah?"

"But he didn't seem... dangerous?" Mickey asked, and the look in his eyes was pleading.

"Not really, why?"

"Because I'm beginnin' to regret I ever started lookin' for 'im."

"Oh, now you regret it," Rose scoffed.

"Don't be flip. They took 'im Rose. They took 'im and I couldn't stop it."

"Who, who took 'im?" Rose's heart sank.

"Torchwood 3." Mickey answered, "He was 'transferred' this mornin'. He's locked up in some dungeon in Cardiff."

"He won't like that."

Footnote: This is a rather long single-scene, lots of talking and exposition. I apologize for that. Action ahead, I promise!