"I was thinking that I want to join Torchwood."

Rose's declaration, made from the door of the kitchen's dining area, arrived with all the warning of a bomb attack. It crashed and exploded on Pete as he blinked up from his tablet, where he'd been working the last hour on some Vitex board report.

"Excuse me?" He blinked owlishly over his reading glasses at her as she leaned against the doorjamb, chin tilted in that defiant expression that promised she had already made up her mind and him trying to reason it out likely would do no good.

"Torchwood. I want to join as an operative."

He set down the tablet, frowning as he tried to understand. "Where did this come from, may I ask?"

"What? I've been helping Mickey out for the last couple of weeks, at least before this story broke and I've been cooped up here."

Pete pursed his lips hard together as he regarded his new daughter. "Is that what this is about? You're bored and want something to do?"

"No," she replied, though not completely with conviction. "I was thinking on it before. I mean, before we came out here."

"Sit down," he offered, waving at one of the elegant chairs. Rose immediately plopped down, arms crossed in determination. Clearly, she'd already prepared for battle with him on the matter.

"So might I ask what brought it up?"

"Just, you know, working with Mickey and Jake on it." She shrugged mildly. "I know Mickey fell into it when he stayed over here. And look at him, he's done all right."

"And you think you can just fall into it and do all right?"

Rose's nose wrinkled in annoyance, eyes blazing. "Look, when you can face Daleks and Sycorax and having your face pulled off and stuck inside a telly, and you know, maybe fighting Satan himself, then you can tell me whether or not I've got experience enough to handle what you deal with at Torchwood. Mickey hasn't seen half the stuff I have."

Pete couldn't only stare at her as she listed off adventures he had never heard of and he wasn't sure he wanted to, realizing that unfortunately, she had a point. Rose had seen and done things that most Torchwood agents hadn't dealt with. He wondered if her mother even knew half of it. "I'm not doubting your experience, Rose, but what we do at Torchwood is dangerous. And there's no Doctor here to bail you out should you get in over your head."

"Don't you think I know that," she fairly growled, petulant as she glared across the table at him. "You know, Mum may assume I'm a kid, but I expected more out of you."

"Don't go playing your Mum and I against each other," he snapped, surprised she was lowering herself to that sort of tactic in an argument this key to her future. "This isn't primary school and you aren't a child, as you just said. Besides, I know you haven't even told her about this yet."

That bit of insight surprised her. "How do you know that?"

"She'd be screaming across the house if you dropped it on her," Pete observed wryly earning at least a hint of a smile from the girl. "You came to me first. Why?"

"Because, if I joined I'd be working for you. Seems I should ask my future boss first."

"Miles would be your boss, not me."

"He said I had to ask you."

So that was how it was. Miles had given his tacit approval. He wasn't so sure he was pleased with his director for that, but he couldn't yell at him. Miles was free to hire whatever personnel he saw fit. "He wanted you?"

"Said I'd be good at it, better than Mickey even. Besides, I think he understands a bit, all of this."

Pete didn't need to ask what "this" was. The heartbreak that surrounded his daughter hung on her sleeves like a cloak. Still, he wasn't positive throwing herself into something so dangerous was the healthiest response. "Rose, I know being cooped up here at the mansion isn't your cup of tea. I know you are used to a life more...active. But, if you'd like, I could arrange for something else. Maybe let you tour the world or something. Give you a chance to explore this new place."

"No," she smiled, still determined, but the fire had gone out of her. It was replaced by infinite sadness. "I mean, it's a nice gesture and all, but the idea of travel by myself...doesn't sound as good as you might think."

No, Pete sighed, he supposed it wouldn't, not after traveling the universe with a mad alien.

"Besides, I'd rather be doing some good. I have experience. I can do good at Torchwood, if you let me."

Before he could say anything further either positive or negative, the sound of breaking pottery crashed and skittered across tile flooring, as they both turned to see an outraged Jackie staring at them both.

"You...you want to go to Torchwood?"

"Mum," Rose began, turning pale as milk before flushing guilty at her mother.

"Not even been here a month and you are already wanting to go do something else to get yourself killed?"

"Mum, it's not like that. It's just a job."

"A job? If you wanted a job, there's plenty of those around not at Torchwood. Besides, not like you need money."

"That's not the point!"

"Then what is? You going off and running around doing something dangerous? Thought you got enough of that with the Doctor? What, he's not around no more, so you want to go get yourself killed good and proper without him?"

"You always assume I'm going to get myself killed at everything, and I haven't yet!"

"But by the grace of God, that's for sure."

"Oh, shut it, Mum, you've not been to a church since your cousin's last wedding."

"And don't think I haven't said a prayer or two while you've been gallivanting across God knows where, doing God knows what. And now, now just when we get somewhere safe, where we can have some peace and live normal lives, now you want to go do something stupid again?"

Pete could only stare helplessly watching the tableau between mother and daughter as something in his gut churned at the unnerving familiarity of it all. He'd had these arguments with his Jackie himself once before. Unlike Pete when he was younger, however, Rose seemed more than capable of handling herself. She pushed away from the table so hard the chair tipped, and though she was just Jackie's height, in her anger she seemed to tower over her mother as something hard and feral flashed in her amber eyes.

"Stupid? Was it stupid the times I helped save the world? Was it stupid when I kept people from dying, Mum? Do you even know what you're talking about?" Her voice wasn't loud, but it snapped so hard at Jackie, the other woman reared back as if she'd been struck, eyes wide. "Yeah, the times I stood by his side and saved so many, and it felt good to know I was doing something more and bigger with my life than just sitting around, waiting for another day to turn because I was safe and sound in my little bed. I wanted more than that, always did want more than that, and all you ever cared about was that I was there to chatter about your stupid telly and gossip mags. But that's not what I want with my life, Mum, and it never was. What I wanted…"

Here she paused, the anger deflating to something sad and broken. "I can't have what I wanted. But I can do this. And I know it. It's what I'm good at. You may be happy having this life, Mum, but it wasn't what I wanted. It never was what I wanted. And I'm sorry, but I'm an adult, and I've been for a while. And I need to do what is right."

And without any further explanation, Rose turned on her trainer clad heels and stalked back out of the kitchen almost as suddenly as she arrived. Pete stared in silence, regarding her absence briefly, before turning to Jackie. She stood at the island that served as the breaking point between the large, modern kitchen and the area where he sat with his work things spread.

"Jacks," he murmured as she turned to him, eyes filled with tears.

"You can't let her, Pete."

"What am I going to do? Tell her no?"

"You're her father now. Do what you should've done in my world."

"What, stop her from going with the Doctor?"

Jackie bit her lip, shoulders dropping in frustration. "You know she could get herself killed."

"She could do that crossing the street or taking a zeppelin."

"You're just going to let her do this?"

"What choice do I have, Jackie. She's talked to Miles. He wants her on the team, and she's right. She's got the experience, loads more than Mickey did, and she'd be invaluable with her knowledge."

"So that's all she is to you, some sort of encyclopedia of stuff the Doctor knew?"

"No," he barked back, his temper rising now just as Rose's had. "What I am saying is that she came to me as an adult. She made this decision on her own. She isn't some child who you can order to her room for mouthing off."

"Oh, so you are just going to let your daughter get herself killed."

"She's technically not my daughter."

"That's not what the press out there believes," she snapped, flinging an arm towards the window, charging him with all the bluster of an angry, mother bear. "She's my daughter, Pete, she's all I got in this world. If I lose her, what will I have?"

"Me," he said simply, trying to hide how much her words cut at him. "You'd have me, Jacks, even if everything else fell away."

Her puffed up ire deflated at that statement, her blue eyes wide in a face suddenly slack. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You are going on about Rose and her dying, as if you expect that is inevitable, and I don't think it is. She's tough, Rose, she's been through far worse things. And she's made it. But even if she did get herself killed, Jackie, you aren't alone anymore. You have me. I am here. And yeah, I know I died in your world, and you've been doing this alone. I know that scared you. But you aren't alone anymore."

He had wanted to say that yesterday when she ran out on him, to reassure her. She hadn't been willing to listen then. Carefully, he reached for one of her hands, trying to manage his "trust me" smile. "I'm here, Jacqueline Tyler, and I won't let you go."

He wasn't sure what he had been hoping for. Perhaps a laugh, perhaps she'd throw herself at him like she did the first night they'd met so long ago. What he hadn't expected was the panic that rose, as she wrenched her fingers from his.

"I can't," she fairly cried, tears now dribbling down her face as she shook her head so violently strands of blonde hair flew out of the clip she'd had it up in. "I can't do this, I can't…"

With no further explanation she fled as well. Pete stood, for the second time in two days, nursing what was left of his dignity and wounded heart. He hadn't meant to send her running, just to reassure her. What the hell had he said?

It was some time before he gathered his pride together enough to regard the remains of his work scattered on the table. There was no finishing board reports that day, he'd be buggered if he could concentrate on anything that wasn't a stiff drink at the moment. Heaving a sigh, he gathered his things, wandering past the veranda towards the family part of the house. The door stood open, a warming breeze promising summer soon. Sitting on one of the unbound chairs with her feet propped on the brick wall at the edge sat Rose, watching the spring clouds aimlessly. He stood watching her, her eyes closed. He'd just resolved to leave her to her peace when she spoke.

"Mum gave you hell, did she?"

Pete smiled tightly. "Yeah, a little. Not the first time I've had to deal with an irate Jackie Tyler."

"Sorry," she murmured, squinting up at him in the bright sunshine. He shrugged, shuffling to the brick wall she had her feet on, settling himself on the edge, laying his things aside. She watched him silently as he searched for words. He'd never done this father thing before.

"You're mother...worries." Perhaps the most inadequate understatement of the year, he chided himself.

Clearly Rose felt the same as she snorted. "Mum's worried? Maybe about herself, yeah?"

"She worries about you, you know that."

"Really?" She pulled herself up in the chair, elbows propped on the metal arms as her feet met the ground. "When I was seven I won a medal in tumbling. Nothing big, right, just a stupid little medal doing gymnastics. A couple months later, I took a bit of a tumble off a beam and she made me quit. Said it was too dangerous and we couldn't afford it if I broke something. When I was twelve, I wanted a new bike. Couldn't afford it, but you know that Christmas one appeared right in front of my Christmas tree. Didn't know it then, but it was the Doctor who done it. It was the best thing I'd ever gotten, you know. Let me get out of the neighborhood a bit, to go places, without her. Took me a month of wheedling and a solemn promise never to go across the river before she'd let me ride it."

"Sounds like any other mother I know of," Pete tried to gently point out, but Rose shook her head.

"Yeah, well it only got worse the older I got. I wanted to do A levels, go to uni. She whined that I didn't need to go to uni, was smart enough, could get a job and stay in the neighborhood. Just like her, I guess. She'd date any old thing that came across and showed her attention, go out and get pissed with her friends, and come home to me just expecting me to want to do that too. Little wonder when Jimmy Stone, the great git, showed up and wanted to take me with him I went. Anything to just...get away."

Sadly, Rose sighed, picking at her fingers and avoiding Pete's gaze. "Jimmy was one of the more stupid things I'd done, and she told me, over and over again. But I got on my feet again, I paid off my debts, got a job, was doing all right. But it was just...the same old. Mum was there, doing not much of anything, no dreams of doing anything, and all I could see was that I would be stuck, just like her someday. Taking the bus into a shop in town, never doing more with my life than watching telly and going to the pub, and growing old and dying like that. Doesn't that sound horrible?"

"Yeah," Pete admitted. "I was like that once, too. Wishing I could be something more than just...ordinary."

"I know." She looked up at him, smiling tightly. "Mum never got that. She never understood. I mean, I've been carrying on as if she was awful. She wasn't. I mean, she was there for me. She took care of me, I always had clothes and food. And yeah, I hated most of the men she dated, but I always came first for her. She always, always loved me. But she never got it. She just wanted to keep me wrapped up and safe away, so I wouldn't leave her."

"Just like I left her," Pete asked, posing the question with a dry, sad smile.

"It wasn't you...it was our Pete. And he didn't leave, he was killed."

"Sometimes, when you are hurting, it's hard to tell the difference. I know with my wife, I couldn't. She'd left me, or really, I'd left her by the time she died. But there were days when it felt like she'd just walked away."

"But she didn't. And neither did my Dad. He died saving us...all of us." Tears welled in her amber eyes, ones Pete pretended to ignore as she used a knuckle to wipe them away.

"Yeah," Pete let out a long, drawn out sigh. "Must have hurt your Mum a lot, then, watching her husband die in the middle of the street. Left alone with a baby to take care of, not having worked a full job in her life, wondering how she was going to pay rent and buy food. And what if something happened to you, the only thing of her husband she had left. What if you died, and she wasn't there? What would she do then?"

Rose blanched at the very idea. "I know I was all Mum had, but still…"

"That's right, you were all your Mum had. Small wonder she was so terrified that you'd die somewhere. She'd already lost enough, how do you think she'd feel if she lost you on top of it all."

Rose clearly hadn't considered that. And Pete didn't blame her. The young very rarely considered their own mortality. "But she can't keep me safe from everything and everyone forever."

"I know. She can't. I'm just saying, that's where she's coming from."

"So, what, you going to keep me from Torchwood, just to make her happy?"

Pete shrugged. "You think it would do me any good?"

That at least earned a toothy smile from Rose as she laughed. "Probably not."

"I'll set up some time with Miles tomorrow. We will see if we can smuggle you past the line of cameras down the way."

Rose squealed in delight, throwing herself at Pete, nearly tipping him backwards to the lawn as he wrapped his arms around the flurry of blonde hair and jacket. For the briefest of moments his heart swelled, just a little, at the idea of doing something so very fatherly. Perhaps his hug was a bit tighter before he let her go, pulling as stern a look as he could manage.

"If you do this, you'll be treated just like Mickey and Jake were. You've got to train, pass the tests, and you can't just ride the coattails of being Pete Tyler's daughter."

"Wouldn't expect otherwise," she smiled cheekily. "And if they let Mickey, the great lump, in there then I should be a success."

Pete hoped so. But then, in all fairness, Torchwood had let him in years ago, more of a mess than even Mickey, and he'd done all right. "You're Mum is still not going to be happy."

"I know. But she wasn't happy when I left with the Doctor, either." Though she waved it off, he could see the guilt and concern there, hidden behind her excited bravado.

"Let me be the one to break it to her. At least she can be angry at me. Seems to be what she's good at."

He hadn't meant to leak that much of his disgruntlement, but there it was. Rose could only sigh knowingly and smile sympathetically. "All this, it's hard for her, too. You see how she is with anything new or scary."

"Guess we both need to be patient?"

"Good luck, mate," she snorted, patting his cheek affectionately. "Tell me how that works for you."

"Thanks," he muttered, and wondered if those would be his famous, last words in regards to Jackie Tyler.