It had been about a week and she still couldn't quite shake it off of her. The darn bastard had just waltzed into her life, wore the same face, the same clothes—like he didn't think of himself as a different person. She wouldn't have been surprised if he went out and got the exact same brown coat he used to have.

It was burned into her retina, and it wouldn't leave her. The exact image of a man she used to love, now reduced to some mere, embarrassing try of a copy. It was humiliating.

She, like all the other times it popped up in her head, shoved it aside violently and returned to her work.

Thankfully, since she worked in the basement, no one came to interrupt her. Considering the universe had just been saved, about half of the staff was away celebrating their achievement. The other half was still necessary because the aliens never ceased.

She zoned out, ignoring the regular beeping. One of her co-workers had even seen her and thought it was so strange she was already back.

"Don't you need the rest?"

He sounded just like her mother.

She snapped her attention back to the several machines. She had absolutely no assurance any of it would work, but it was her last shot at anything. It was this or nothing. This or death. She'd find it or die trying.

Her phone buzzed again, but she ignored it this time. She'd managed to convince her mum she was just quietly at home, simply wanting to be away from that clone. But now she wanted to see her. She didn't want to, considering her mission. If she went home, that clone would undoubtedly be there, and she would not give him a mere chance anymore.

She loved her mother, but she meant what she said. She had chosen him over her every time, and that would remain. It was a part of her—one she couldn't ever let go of, lest she die.

She'd sacrifice so much for him. She wondered if he even knew to what extent she had loved him. He was always with his head up his bum, so he probably didn't notice all that she had done for him. He didn't even particularly seem to care about her, meanwhile, she had given every single part of her, every single ounce of strength, for him.

And he didn't even know it because he was too selfish. Too self-centred, too arrogant, too narcissistic.

Yes, the whole nine yards.

Seething, she turned around to reach for her half-eaten sandwich. Jerk. She didn't need him. She had—

—Beep.

She turned so quickly that she wouldn't have been surprised to be diagnosed with whiplash. For a moment, she froze. It could have been a false alarm, or it simply couldn't've been him. She had no assurance of anything, but that tiny amount of hope, next to the larger portion of hatred, flared up.

She knew it wasn't impossible. And that was all she needed. Tentatively, scared, and full of hope, she walked up to it. She was expecting some sort of reading, but it didn't even give that. It was some coördinates. It wasn't even a vague indication, it was just… clear.

That was a miracle if she'd ever seen one. She grabbed the TARDIS key from the holder and put it back in her pocket before bolting out.

She set in the coördinates and set out. It was a few streets away. If this was true…

She ran like her life depended on it. (Which it did.)

She turned the corner, and—

A big blue box.

Her knees almost gave out. She gave a sound that was in between a laugh and a sob. Her hand shakily went to her pockets, where she grabbed the key and held it up to the keyhole. With her other hand, she touched the painted wood. It was real. It was in front of her. Again!

She opened the door and walked inside. There was no one else, but it didn't matter. She finally let out a sob as she touched the coral and greeted the TARDIS. She was surprisingly quiet, but she was there, and that was all that mattered.

No matter how often she keeps being separated, she always found her way home.

She took a moment to compose herself. Alright, the Doctor wasn't here. He was probably outside doing something. It would be hard to find him. But if she tried to find him, he might find his way back to the TARDIS without passing by her, and then he would leave without her. She couldn't take that chance. No way.

Yet, he'd be weirded out if she suddenly was on the TARDIS if he came back, so… She patted the TARDIS and left, deciding to sit right in front of it. Waiting.

She didn't have to wait long.

A sight for sore eyes. Him, in all his Time Lord glory, in his leather jacket and those clinical, cold eyes, walking as if he owned the world, with a… plastic arm in his hand?

Wait, was this the Nestene?

He barely even noticed her until he almost stepped on her. Then he proceeded to stare at her silently for a few (she'd admit, awkward) seconds. "What in the world are you doing here?" he finally asked with his Northern burr.

Her face broke into a smile. He frowned at that, but she couldn't keep the glee off her face. "I was looking for you," she admitted.

"You can't keep doing this. How do you keep finding me?" He looked back up at the TARDIS. "This should be impossible."

"Oh, Doctor," she said, standing up. "You have no idea what that word even means."

His frown didn't budge in the slightest. "Move, woman."

She got up and moved out of the way. He went for the door but stopped and stared at her. She blinked at him in question.

He sighed. "Get out of here."

Her smile faltered. "Can't I come with you?"

"No."

Her face fell as much as her heart did. She'd spent all this time looking for him, surely he couldn't just reject her plainly, just like that. "But—"

"No."

She went to protest again, trying to find her words, but he retorted before she could even try to make her case. "You're a woman. Shouldn't you, of all people, know what 'no' means?"

Okay, that was—uncalled for. She looked down and saw the arm again. Right, she could use that. "You're going against the Nestene Consciousness, right? Maybe I can help with that. I know a thing or two."

He raised an eyebrow at her. He didn't seem impressed, as she'd hoped, more so just pleasantly surprised. She was going to have to wow him if he'd ever take her along. Or manipulate him. She could find a way.

…She was desperate.

"How'd you find me?" he asked after a bout of silence, seeming genuinely curious.

Thing is, she knew him. He'd be more prone to accepting her along if it was some dumb reason that didn't include cold hard logic. ' I looked for you and found you. ' Boring. Overused. 'Fate brought me into your hands once again.' Original. Inspiring. Something a total nutjob would say.

Sigh. "I just… found her. Not my fault you keep appearing in London, is it?"

He shrugged. "Wish I didn't have to come here so often. But you guys have so many problems. You're so loud ."

"Yeah, and, er…" She put her hands in her pockets, suddenly a bit uncomfortable. "Thank you. I know you don't ask for thanks or rewards, but on behalf of the human race—thank you. We owe you a debt we can never repay."

He turned silent. He looked at the ground intently, turning to the side. "You could repay it."

She looked back up at him, expectantly. Was he…?

He leaned in slightly. "By leaving me alone."

She rolled her eyes. The wonderful sound of the TARDIS doors opening came to her ears, and then an idea hit her. She knew where it was. He would waste a bit of time getting there since an arm wouldn't be enough and he'd need a head… But she knew where it was. She could get to the London Eye and wait there, for him.

Trying not to show her satisfaction on her face, she gave him a small, disappointed grin. "Alright. Bye, Doctor. See you later."

The last thing she saw was him rolling his eyes as he closed the door. "Bye, Susan."

Wait, did he seriously just—

And then the TARDIS took off. Oh, right. She stood there for a few seconds, taking it all in. The wonderful box disappeared from sight, taking with her the wonderful alien.

She wondered if he had met his Rose equivalent. Had he taken her hand, too, and told her to run? Had he invaded her home trying to find that arm, and been bothered by her on his way back to the TARDIS? Would he meet her then plastic boyfriend and take his head off, and be incredibly insensitive as she mourned a loss that wasn't?

No good sitting around here, chinwagging. The London Eye. Would he get it? Or would he be stuck on the other side, not realising he just had to cross the Westminster bridge?

Would he be holding her equivalent's hand as he ran over it?

That wasn't helpful. She'd get to the other side, and wait. If he never showed up… well, then her life was over. Simple as that. She grabbed another cab (ah, the perks of having money) to the side of the Thames where he had gotten them to all those years back. It was further than she'd have thought, and the sun was already setting. Good, at least. She wouldn't have to wait too long.

And she was right. She sat on a nearby bench for a few minutes and the TARDIS showed up. She stood up but was suddenly overwhelmed by what she should do, so she simply stared at him as he looked around only slightly, looked to the Thames, let out a defeated sigh she heard from that far away, and went to the railing.

Where he leaned on to look straight at the London Eye.

This man was so dense.

She tried to play it cool. She still didn't know what to say, though. A 'Hey, how's it hanging?' didn't seem very appropriate. So she decided not to say a thing and simply set herself next to him. She leaned on the railing to his right, which startled him as much as she thought it would. He stared at her silently, a small shock written clearly on his face.

"What does a transmitter look like, Doctor?" she said, smiling with her tongue through her teeth.

He frowned even more at her question. His mouth slightly agape, it seemed as if she finally managed to break his resolve. No more apathetic not-bothered-by-anything alien man. He, shocked, stared at her for a bit longer than she was comfortable with. She was surprised to find a limit to that.

It clicked and he looked back at the London Eye. And then, instantly, the wonder, the fear, the amazement on his face all disappeared, replaced by his harsh, closed mask. Not a single drop of emotion to be found anymore, he got up and walked away towards the Westminster bridge.

…Had she gone too far?

She knew she was being particularly insistent on this, but… She thought it would be okay. Parallel him liked her, right? He had said she was a good companion (the best!), surely this one must think the same.

She followed him quietly, but now, it was only because she knew he would need her to save his life. Otherwise, she thinks she might've had the courage to walk away.

And save his life she did. He hadn't said another word to her, even when he had noticed he was following her and wouldn't leave him alone. He had let the door open behind him, even looking back at the ladder to see if she made it. It was eerie. The silence was numbing. It wasn't meant to be that way, ever. It all felt wrong. He talked to the Nestene like before, got captured like before, looked at her that way (albeit slightly different), and she had saved him, again. She felt like a bit of an idiot for not realising she probably could've changed the events slightly, considering she knew exactly what would happen before any of it did. But she didn't. They got in the TARDIS to escape, and he, in the oddest silence she'd ever experienced, flew them away, back to some alleyway.

He only had to give her one look for her to understand that she had to leave. She was a bit surprised when he left with her, however. She would've thought he simply had no words to say to her, considering, but apparently…

But no. He didn't say a thing. He put his hands in his pockets and left.

Wait, what? He just left the TARDIS unattended? Was he challenging her or something? Where was he even—

…He didn't know, did he? She took out her key. It was insane. It was, frankly, a massive invasion, straight-up manipulative, and completely against what he'd been asking the entire time. Could she really deliberately go against his wishes in such a way, just because she didn't know how else to live her life?

The answer was already laid in front of her. This was her life. The TARDIS, too, was quiet, and she quickly ran down the corridor to find a place to hide.

It was an insane plan, and so much could go wrong, but if it worked…? This would be the worst, smartest thing she would ever do in her entire life.

A few minutes later she felt the TARDIS shake and go back into the vortex. Surprisingly, she landed again. Oh, right. He didn't sleep.

She cautiously walked back down the corridors, making sure not to run into him. Thankfully to console room was empty, so he was already outside. She briefly activated the scanner to make sure he wasn't just waiting at the door, ready to jump her. He wasn't.

She went outside. Oh, she actually recognised the planet. She couldn't name it, but they had been here before. All the random junk and metal scraps scattered about solidified her belief. It was some junkyard planet that he had gone to for a TARDIS piece or something. Perfect. This was perfect.

She had to do everything just right. She had a very limited time frame, she couldn't get this wrong. She walked towards the giant pile of stuff in the distance, and she was correct, as the Doctor was there, hunched over, looking through it.

She took a deep breath and composed herself. She'd have to bring her best acting skills out for this one.

"So," she started, making him already jump out of his skin," Have you found it?" She tried to make her voice sound a bit concerned at his reaction.

"Found… found what?" he asked, still with his back towards her.

She sighed. "I don't know, you went over it so fast, I still don't know what we're looking for. Nano… Nano something?"

He turned to her. She did her best to keep a straight face. "Rose," he said, calmly. Ah, so he did remember her name!

He continued, looking away. "I'm not… I'm not yours."

Even though she fully understood him, she tried her best to look startled. "Wh—What? Why would—"

He put a hand up. "Different time. I'm not here with you, you got the wrong one."

Aaand the penny dropped. Apparently. " Oh . Oh, shoot— Is that… bad?"

He shook his head. Why was he so calm about everything when she could've thought he would murder her a few minutes ago? He seemed to believe her, then. "No," he answered, "as long as I don't see him. I'll get going, though. No worries."

He picked up a piece, smiled (to her massive surprise, but she had to keep it cool), and left. He would now be heading to the TARDIS, and in a minute, he would be gone, thinking that it was inevitable for him to take her with him. And in some distant or not-so-distant future, he would see her again, and everything would fall into place.

And that, folks, is how you manipula—

Wait, how would she get back?