Disclaimer: Nothing related to Doctor Who or the Harry Potter Series is mine. I swear. I wish I owned them, cuz then I might have a bit more money, but I don't.

Warnings: Book Two of Three (Main books anyway). Swearing. Sarcasm. I have only watched the new series, no knowledge of early Doctor Who. EWE, kind of...

Dedication: To the Writers and Producers of Doctor Who, thank you for giving me something else to obsess over, now that Harry Potter is long gone. And to the lovely people who encourage me to continue writing in their reviews. To the lovely people who encouraged me to post the next chunk. To my lovely reviewers, thank you for everything you've said.

Book 2: Stories of A Shop Girl

Summary: A Death too soon. A woman who steps up to save the world.

Rating: Dark T

Genre: Adventure/Drama

A/N: I'm a few days later than promised, but back none the less. This is the last section of this book, before I begin the next book. I offer no promises for when the next book comes out.

A/N 2: I will not be updating daily like before. It will probably be every Saturday or so. At least once a weekend.

Part 3:Count Them

Chapter 19: A Trip of a Lifetime

Last night I had a dream. I heard a voice and it was calling my name. I told Mum and Dad and Mickey. Anyone else would think I was mad. But not those three. They believe it because they've met the Doctor. So they listened to the dream. And that night, we packed up, got into dad's old Jeep and off we went. Just like the dream said. Followed the voice across the water. Kept on driving for hundreds and hundreds of miles, because he's calling.

Here I am at last. And this is the story of how I died.

I looked over the waves and rocks of the beach. Darlig Ulv Stranden. Bad Wolf Bay. Beaches would always hold horrible memories for me. Nothing ever good happened on beaches. (Dobby...) It seemed almost ironic that this goodbye was also to happen on a beach. In the middle of nowhere. My hand unconsciously goes up to my throat. No more scar there. No more scar across my body. No more scar on my arm. But the ones in my mind were still there. They're starting to heal. At least, they were.

His image appears out of nowhere, and it startles me. I swallow, "Where are you?"

"Inside the TARDIS. There's one tiny little gap in this Universe left, just about to close, and it takes a lot of power to send this projection. I'm in orbit around a supernova. I'm burning up a sun just to say goodbye."

If this were normal circumstances, I would start lecturing him on not blowing up suns, no matter what, but they weren't normal circumstances. "You look like a ghost."

"Hold on." His sonic appears out of nowhere, and he points it somewhere, probably close to the time rotor, and his image solidifies.

"Can I..." I reach out my hand, hovering over where his face would be.

"I'm still just an image. No touch." I drop my hand. It hangs uselessly at my side.

I blink back tears. "Can't you come through properly?"

"The whole thing would fracture. Two universes would collapse."

I take a shallow breath, "So?"

He ignores my comment. I shouldn't have said it. "Where are we? Where did the gap come out?"

"We're in Norway."

"Norway. Right." He frowns.

"About fifty miles out of Burgen. It's called 'DårligUlv Stranden'."

He frowns, "Dalek?"

I shake my head, correcting his pronunciation. "It's Norwegian for bad. This translates as Bad Wolf Bay." At his startled look, I smile. I frown at my next thought. "How long have we got?"

"About two minutes."

I laugh in desperation, "I can't think of what to say!"

"You've still got Mister Mickey, then?" He's looking past me, and I turn. Leaning against the Jeep was Mickey. Mum and Dad were holding each other watching. Jack, who'd somehow managed to convince us to bring him, was sitting in the Jeep to protect timelines. I doubt the Doctor ever knew that he was in a parallel world. Maybe Jack didn't even know. But I really didn't like to think about that.

I swallow. "There are five of us now." At his confused look, I elaborated, "Mum, Dad, Mickey, and the baby." Half of me was calling Jack a baby, and the other half was thinking about Mum's child.

"You're not?" His bewildered look made me smile.

I laugh, "No." I realize that I'm lying belatedly, "It's mum. She's three months gone. More Tylers on the way."

"And what about you? Are you..."

I give him a look, "No, I'd never work in a shop again. They have a bad tendency of blowing up."

"Oh, good for you." He gives me a grin.

"Shut up. There's still a Torchwood on this planet. It's open for business. I think I know a thing or two about aliens." I grin.

"Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth." He grins, but it turns into a frown, "You're dead, officially, back home. So many people died that day, and you've gone missing. You're on a list of the dead. Here you are, living life day after day. The one adventure I can never have."

There were so many responses I wanted to say to that, but as tears welled up in my eyes, only one thing came out, "Am I ever going to see you again?"

"It's impossible." And with that sentence, I developed all the determination to figure out how to get back.

"What're you going to do?" I ask, watching him closely through tears.

The Doctor forced a grin, "Oh, I've got the TARDIS. Same old life, last of the Time Lords."

"On your own." I realize that this might be the very last chance I could say this, "I – I love you." I start sobbing.

"Quite right, too." He says with a small grin, and then his expression goes serious. "And I suppose, if it's one last chance to say it, Rose Tyler-"

He disappears. I fall to my knees, sobbing. I barely even notice when Jackie comes and wraps her arms around me. She leads me back to the car.

"You alright?" Mickey asked, warily. We were back on the road, and since we'd left, I hadn't said anything.

I stared out the window for a few more beats, before turning to him. "No. But I am going to find a way back, and he is going to finish that sentence. With the right bloody name too!"

When we got back, I had visitors constantly.

Sunday

I was sitting at home, reviewing the diagrams of the dimension cannon when Hermione came in, looked at me, and then asked, "Am I going to need to pull another intervention?"

"No." I swallow, "You were right. I've just about constantly proved everyone wrong when it comes to saying 'impossible'. This is just another road I have to go down."

"Good." She said, and that was that.

Monday

"You sure you're alright?" Mickey asked, dropping by my desk at work.

I turn away from the computer files I'm looking at to glare at him. "This is the sixth time you've asked me that this week. Ask me again, and I assure you, you will not like the consequences."

"Wha's that supposed to mean?"

I pause to look at him, "Well, think of it like this, I've defeated a dark lord, I've dealt with the Doctor for three years, and the last guy who pissed me off, I enchanted everyday objects to come and attack him. He ended up in the hospital for six weeks. Are you sure you really want to know?"

Mickey paled. He didn't ask me again.

Tuesday

Jack was getting on my nerves, "Hey boss."

"Harkness, I swear, call me boss again, and we will have issues."

"But Ria..." He whines. At my look, he gets to his point, "See, the thing is, I've got some free time, if you want to get over him. If you catch my drift." I glance up at him long enough for his eyebrows to wiggle. I remove my wand from my holster, and hit him with a slightly modified curse.

It didn't take effect until the next time he tried to flirt with me, "Hey, do you want to go check out the closet-" His scream, and his sudden dash to the men's room left me laughing.

He came back, glaring at me. "Fix it."

"Fix what?"

"You know..."

"Promise to not offer to help me 'get over him' any more?"

"Fine."

A quick swish, and he was back to normal. Until he relapsed.

Then it got worse.

Wednesday

When Pete called me up to his office, I assumed it was Torchwood stuff.

Unfortunately, the saying about assuming things didn't appear out of no where.

"How have things been since..." He trailed off, unsure.

I give him a look. "Is this all you called me up to talk about?"

"I'm your father, and I'm going to be a father again soon, and well..."

I swallow, "You want to have practice." He sheepishly nodded. "Try someone else. I'm fine. I'm dealing, I'm not taking anything I shouldn't, and I am still a productive member to society."

With that, I walked out.

Thursday

"Ria how have things..." Jake started, before taking one look at my face. He turned around, pretending he wasn't about to ask me a question.

Apparently the story about Jack got around.

Or people were starting to understand my angry face.

Friday

Pete called me up to his office again. This time, unfortunately, it was in his capacity as director of Torchwood.

"You shot an agent!?"

I sigh, "In my defence, everyone knows not to begin their questions with 'How are you doing' by now, it was their fault."

"You shot an agent!"

"I healed them right up afterwards, and erased their memories of being shot. How did you even know?"

Pete looked at me, "Really? You just confirmed it."

"It technically never happened." I comment, "This is what happens when you give me a gun."

Pete gave me a glare. "I- You-" He couldn't even fit together two words, he was so angry. So he fell back on a common phrase. "You shot an agent!"

"Pete, relax. Don't worry about a thing. I'll leave my gun here."

Pete collapsed, head in his hands. "You," He sighed, "Technically need to keep the gun."

I gave him a look.

"Besides, it technically never happened. Don't do it again."

"Tell everyone to stop asking me how I am doing! I swear, if Voldemort ever had to go through this, I can kind of see why he went evil."

After my (not really) shooting of another agent, Pete sent out a mass communication, which indicated that under no circumstances was anyone to ask about how I was doing. If they began a question with that statement, what followed was their fault.

Thankfully, after that, people got the message.

That weekend, I spent watching the stars. Looking out, wondering which ones I'd been close to their parallel cousins.

The next Monday, I was called in to one of the stranger departments of Torchwood. I was met by a nice bloke, who brought me into a separate room, and asked me one question.

"What do you know about future events on Earth?"

I blink, frowning at his question, "I beg your pardon?"

"It has been confirmed that you are from a parallel universe. Logically, what happened there, might also happen here."

I process that thought, "The Slitheen at Downing Street?"

"Avoided by Mickey Smith's knowledge."

I nod, thinking for a moment. "Well, I remember there being a Christmas star. That shot lasers at people. There is going to be a plasmavore hiding away in a hospital, which the Judoon take to the moon. There's going to be a crazy man who thinks he can rewrite what it means to be human. And..." I trail off, thinking about that year and a half.

"Miss Tyler?"

I blink, coming back from long gone memories. "There's something else, but I doubt it would happen here."

"Why not?"

"There is a certain species of alien that doesn't exist in this universe. The cause of this event is from that species."

"How can you be certain that this species doesn't exist in this universe?"

I answer automatically, "Well, the Doctor said it was..." Impossible.

"Said it was what ma'am?"

"He said it was impossible. Which basically means, keep an eye out for anything called the Arch-Angel network, or a man ascending through the government named Harold Saxon."

The next day, I was called to do an assignment. "Tyler, get a team together, you've got an assignment!" One of the head's barked out.

I take the proffered file from her gently, before flipping though it. "It looks like a downed spaceship? Or the remnants of one? What does this have to do with me?"

"Are you questioning orders?"

I sigh, not even bothering to answer. I grab my jacket before throwing Jack's at the sleeping 'statue' perched on my desk. "Suit up Harkness, we've got an assignment."

He seems to come to life quickly. "Where to, Boss?"

"I told you not to call me that, Harkness, unless you want to be left behind somewhere."

"Course Boss."

I ignored the smart ass for now, focusing on perusing through the file. "It's some ship crashed in some farmer's yard. We should get to it before the press does. Luckily, the man is ex-UNIT. He contacted UNIT, UNIT contacted us." I give him a smile, "Apparently, they deal with only viable alien threats. Space-junk is our territory."

Jack laughs. "So, I'll drive?"

"Who is your superior?"

Jack snorts, "And see, this is where you're a hypocrite. 'Don't call me Boss', and yet, you use it to differentiate yourself from me when you want something." Jack blinks, "Are you saying that you're going to drive? Because if you are, I'd rather stay here and hold down the fort."

I take the keys from the automobile technician on duty today, and give Jack a nasty grin. "And if I tell you your job depends on you getting into the car?"

"I wouldn't believe you. My life depends on staying out of the car you're driving, I believe with every fibre of my being."

"Coward, where's your sense of adventure?"

"Sorry Boss, left it at home."

He climbs into the passenger seat beside me in spite of all the fuss he's made. I start the car and hand over the file. He flips through it for the whole ride, stopping briefly to give me the directions inside the file when needed.

We arrive at a small looking farm. I park, getting out to greet the man who'd phoned in. He was short, average build, with light hair and bright eyes. The lines around them showed he was, indeed ex-UNIT. He wore farmer's overalls and a flannel shirt on this breezy morning. He showed us to the wreckage.

I'd agree, first glance, it looked like an alien crash site. The ship seemed to be mostly intact. The surrounding crops were burnt, and there was a crater. But there were also inconsistencies. The shrapnel of the crash didn't travel as far as it normally would have, indicating it came down at a low velocity. There wasn't the smell of ozone in the air, which was common with anything that travelled through the Earth's atmosphere. There wasn't any visible warping of the ship, like it had burned up some in the atmosphere. It also didn't come down at an angle, which is strange, given the turn and movement of the Earth.

Whatever it was, it didn't travel very fast. And it looked like it wanted to land in this exact spot, intact. Which is strange, given that it was in an ex-UNIT member's land. Like the alien knew it would end up at the proper authorities. Or at least, with either UNIT or Torchwood.

I glance at Jack, who is also evaluating the wreck. "What do you think?"

"Too planned. Too precise to be real." He commented, looking around. "But I think we need our supplies to really tell for sure."

"Alright, you start the tests, I ask questions?" I offer, glancing at him. He nods, and goes to begin his small hike back to the truck. I turn to look at the farmer.

I force a smile on my face, like a puzzle like this happens to drop in my lap everyday. "Mr. Miller, I'd like to ask you a few questions about the wreck?"

"Alright." He glanced at me. I look over the wreck.

"At about what time did the ship impact?"

"Approximately 0430 this morning, miss. I checked."

I give him a wider smile. "What kind of impact was there?"

"Well, it woke me up. Mind you, I've always been a very light sleeper."

"I suppose you couldn't tell us which direction it came from then."

"'Fraid not."

"Was there anything usual about the night, before going to bed?"

"Not that I recall."

I ask him a few more questions, and then leave him the number at Torchwood to contact if he remembers anything more. I slide down the slope of the crater, going to look at what Jack had found with the equipment.

He gives me a report on what he's done to it, but there isn't much in the way of knowledge. "And judging from the database, it isn't like any other ship we've encountered."

I look over the ship again, wondering what kept catching my eye. And then I saw it. "Jack, do you see that opening?"

He looks up from the graphs he's reading and glances at the part of the ship I'm pointing to. "Yeah, Boss. What about it?"

"Does it look like one of the other pieces of shrapnel? Like it might fit in?"

Jack looks at me warily. "Sure?"

"Could this be the entrance to the ship?"

"I suppose, why are you asking?"

"You've done the scan for harmful radiation? Any harmful chemicals?"

"Clear and clear. I still don't know what you're talking about though."

I ignore his protests, and leg myself up to the hole. I shimmy through, finding an interior, completely not burnt like the outside. There was a single chair in the room, the pilot chair, judging by the steering apparatus. There were various screens, dials and levers in reach. I look closely at the steering apparatus, which looks strangely like a steering wheel.

There was blood. Red blood on the wheel. I glance down, looking at the possibility of seeing a piece of tooth or something similar. Instead, I only found a small piece of lens off what looked like a pair of sunglasses.

Jack's followed me in, and is glancing around the room. He lets out a whistle, before glancing at what I'm looking at.

"Looks like the pilot escaped." Jack commented.

I gather up a sample of the blood and the fragment of lens. "What ever it was, it looked like it escaped with a pair of broken sunglasses." I rock back on my heels for a second, mulling over that piece of information. "Which could mean he's either a shape shifter, or humaniod enough to pass as human."

"Whatever it is, I'd like to have a ride in this thing. It looked like the trip of a lifetime."

After a few more of Jack's witty comments, we called Torchwood to come and get the ship. A transport team arrived to take it to a secure warehouse on the outskirts of London.

Which is where we were now.

The evidence was being scanned, and DNA was being lifted from the blood. I had the results in my hand, but had yet to look at them.

"I've got to say, whoever built this thing knew what they were doing." Jack said. I could only see his feet. The rest of him was underneath the control panel. "But it looks a bit like a rush job."

I turn my back to him, and glance around the rest of the small room. "There's no room for sleeping, food or any way of excreting waste. Either the pilot didn't need them, or it was to be a short trip."

I hear the rolling wheels of the skateboard Jack's on, so I turn to face him. "Did you see the crash site? If it fell out of the sky, there would be some sort of angle. It looks like it just went, ker-plunk."

"Thank you for the apt description of the crash via onomatopoeia."

"You're just jealous."

"Oh, yes, terribly jealous. So jealous of the fact that you lack the proper words so you use sound effects like a five year old."

"You know, sometimes you need to de-age yourself a little bit. Relax, have a bit of fun."

I turn away from him, "You've probably read my file by now."

"Yeah."

"I don't exactly have the ability to relax, as it were. I constantly guard one of the most powerful items in the world. In the wrong hands, it can be used for world domination. No chance to relax."

"So that hunk of rock around your neck isn't just a trinket."

I shoot him a quick glare, before focusing on the screens in front of me. "No, it's not just a cheap trinket."

Unknown

Miles away, a man stood, facing the sun. He wore dark sunglasses, and had dark brown hair, parted and jelled back.

He arrived by a spaceship not built for space. And he was only part alien. There was a small part of him that was human, but that part was corrupted by the darkness residing in two people's hearts. Memories that made him dark ran through his brain as he licked his lips absently.

"Well, now. Only one thing left to do I suppose. World domination."

He planned to steal the Philosopher's Stone.