I was ten when I first met the Master.

The Thames had frozen over, and I had dreams of an alternate timeline with Clara and the 11th.

My mum was worried since the power had gone out in greater part of London, but had yet to reach the Powell Estates and so we travelled to the Clark's house on the outskirts of the city to stay until the worst of the weather lifted (The Wednesday Gals, were close enough to be sisters and so all of Jackie's friends family became ours).

Stuart Clark looked frazzled as he welcomed us into his home, the voices of his children as they raced through the hallway causing his eyebrows to crinkle.

"Warm up by the fire. Sarah's making hot chocolate for the kids."

"I would like something with a bit more kick." Jackie stamped her feet on the provided carpet in front of the door. "Come along, Rose, come out of the cold."

A thin chuckle escaped him, "I believe she has the fixings on the stove."

I had been staring down the road, an odd sense of foreboding rising within me. It was like standing on the edge of the cliff with the wind at my back. It would be so easy to fall.

"Rose!"

"Yes mum."

I had warmed by the fire and soon grown tired of being jostled around by the rambunctious Clark children. They all looked similar with either golden brown or auburn hair and mischievous grins.

Snowflakes had started to fall outside and the night was clear so you could see the stars but the inside of the house had begun to feel stifling.

"Mum, I'm going to dip outside for a bit. I'll be back in five."

"Be careful, stay in sight of the house."

I smiled as I heard my mother go back to listening to the latest gossip from Sarah Clark.

"There was some sort of grand party down the road. Many visitors, there was even a reporter."

"Do you think someone famous lives down there?"

Stuart spoke up, "I doubt it. There is only that one abandoned mansion. I doubt anyone would live there for any long period of time."

I shook my head as I stepped out into the cold. Mittened hands rubbing together in front of my already cold nose.

I could understand how the Rose, from the other timelines, could have gotten her more selfish, unlikable tendencies. An only child to a single parent mother who gave unconditional love like she gave out the recent gossip to her Wednesday gals.

Perhaps I would have turned out similarly if I hadn't had a past that made me more grateful for every moment of real love and independence.

I stared up at the cold night sky lost in my thoughts.

I barely noticed the rumble of a car until it had pulled up alongside me.

"What's a lost little lamb doing outside all alone?"

I wrinkled my nose before looking at a handsome man with a strong jaw and intense gaze, the very epitome of a Bond villain.

He even sat in a red convertible, his neat and elegant suit dusted with the snowflakes but he seemed to have no cares for such things.

I glanced at the windows that lined the house behind me, the family distracted and Jackie with her back to the window.

"I'm enjoying the night air and the beauty of the universe."

I could feel the gaze glance over my clothes before flickering over to the house behind me.

"How well-spoken for someone so young. Don't you know its dangerous to speak to strangers, if you are not careful you'll find yourself as one of those missing children on a milk carton."

I stayed silent, not sure how to respond to such an ominous comment after what seemed to be a compliment. I prepared to run back to the house as I saw him lean out his window.

His smooth voice an octave lower and oh so dangerous, "I could kill you."

Well, that had gotten really dark quickly.

I stepped back slowly watching his every move only to see him grin as he saw.

I stood still and stared right back at him, I had already lived once.

I had a wealth of knowledge inside of my head, doors opening to tell me just how to protect myself if it came to it. I wouldn't let some creep try to frighten me.

"That would be truly unfortunate."

Dark wormhole-like eyes narrowed and lips tilted in an almost self-deprecating wry grin, "I could kidnap you."

"Please don't."

The grin widened and his glaring white teeth seemed to glint in the low light.

"What's your name?"

I breathed deeply through my nose only to catch a scent I'd never smelled before coming from the car.

It was like everything that could blend into the dark. Blackberries, charcoal from a burnt out flame, the smoky smoothness of a French roast and salty opalescence of black pearl brought forth from the sea. It felt cool, like a wave upon one's feet.

I swallowed and blinked afraid of what I might have shown as I'd been distracted.

"Marion, what's yours?"

A haughty tilt of his head, as he stared at my features as if deciphering every emotion he'd seen there.

"I am a count. I do not give my name to peasants."

I stepped back with a smirk, "Well I didn't give you my real name either."

I made a quick retreat, getting further from arms reach of the dangerous man…if he was even that. The song inside my head sang loudly, drums pounding and cymbals clashing.

His eyes widened ever so slightly before he opened his mouth, words spilling out from him, "You treat me as if I were fae."

I tilted my head to the side, "One never truly knows."

The surprise was evident across all his features and then it was as if his body melted against the back of his seat as a loud chortling laughter spilled from his mouth and chest. He wiped tears from his eyes and he turned his sharp grin my way.

"I'll let you go this time, little Marion."

As he drove off, the song continued until he was out of sight.

A breath of relief escaped me. I just felt as if I had been saved from falling off a cliff.

It would take years before I'd realise how true that thought was.

Doors opened in my mind as events occurred across the world. Glimpses of old and new doctors as they showed up on TV and news articles.

I watched the world around me with curious eyes.

Every time a Doctor passed by London, their song would grow louder in my head. Sometimes it would wake me in the middle of the night, only for me to roll over and go back to sleep.

On December 24th, 1998 I peeked out my bedroom window as our doorbell rang past the time when visitors came by on such an eve.

A man with a curious white fedora with a red scarf wrapping the top of its brim delivered a red bicycle to my house. A small sign hung in front of the handlebars, 'For Marion'.

"Who are you?" Jackie stared at the man on her doorstep.

I tiptoed to my bedroom door and cracked it open so I could listen in.

"A present for the young Marion. I am a friend of Leapy, he is unable to bestow the gift himself but asked that I bequeath it to the little lady who always brought a smile to his face."

Jackie accepted the bike before shooing the man off our doorstep.

I ran back to my window in order to see the man step back, his hand tipping his fedora at Jackie.

It was the song that had given him away long before I had seen the bright blue TARDIS.

A twinkle came from its windows reminding me of a wink, but I shook my head at such a notion.

I sat back on my heels feeling as if something was off, a door opened up in my mind as I listened to the TARDIS leave and another arrived.

This TARDIS was more worn. The blue fading in spots, no longer a vibrant blue but more of a weathered navy.

The song rushed to meet me as if it had missed me, I nearly fell over from the burst of joyous melodies that sung in my head. It was as if it was talking to me, but as soon as I thought that I felt the melody sadden, a disappointed tone lowering its chords.

A knock on our door, and I watched as the 9th doctor left a red Radio Flyer on our doorstep. He rushed off as soon as he heard my mother's footsteps and the door knob turning.

I watched him pause on the downstairs landing as Jackie exclaimed, "Rose you got another one!"

The 9th doctor in his leather jacket, dark shirt and pants stood frozen. His eyes almost met my gaze as his head was tilted upwards. Small snowflakes fell to rest upon his eyelashes. His lips pulled into a frown before he looked down, his hands in his pockets and walked back to his TARDIS, the melody in my head giving a wavering note as if hesitating to say good-bye.

I was twelve when I met Sarah Jane Smith.

The Clarks' had moved to a safer neighbourhood after hearing worrying tales of their previous neighbors.

As always I sought to escape the loud Clark house and went outside to explore.

I watched as a mint green car parked at the large home across the way.

Something was familiar about the place. A song started up in my mind as soon as my eyes laid upon the woman in black that stepped from her car. I felt drawn to her somehow and not just the song that sounded so much like the one that accompanied the Doctor but as I drew closer there was a familiar feeling I got from the sadness intermixed with determination in her eyes.

"Hello, would you like some help with those boxes?"

The woman held what looked like an urn in her arms and she had tried to grab several of the smaller boxes in her car as well.

"No…" The woman drifted away as she met my eyes, her eyes moving over my features before resting upon my neck. "That's an odd locket."

I looked down, "It was a bottlecap once. My father was an inventor, my mum said he first proposed with the plastic ring that comes from around a bottle cap." I wasn't sure why I had rambled, but when I saw some tension ease out of the corner of her eyes, I smiled. "She wasn't the happiest with it, but she said they had to commemorate his first sale somehow."

A wobbly smile came upon her lips.

"It's just my mum and I now. Two ladies facing off the world."

The woman's shoulders tensed before relaxing, "I…" She swallowed, glancing down at the urn under her arm. "I lost my…" She kept pausing and I got the sense it was odd for her not to have the words, she seemed disconcerted.

"I don't mean to be nosy or anything. I just escaped from the kids across the street and I thought you might need help."

As if reaffirming my statement Jackie called across the street, "What are you doing over there?"

"I'm helping…" I looked at the woman who spoke and her voice choked up so I only heard her the last couple of words.

"...Jane Smith."

"I'm helping Ms Smith." I called across the street.

"I'll expect you back in thirty minutes for lunch."

I nodded before picking up one of the boxes.

Overtime my mum and I would visit the Clarks' I would go over and visit Ms Smith's. Slowly but surely she opened up to me and she would tell me of her travels and adventures. We'd sit in her living room, drinking tea and watching the flames lap over logs in her fireplace.

All her stories were like large puzzles with hundreds of components, and several pieces were missing. I never asked though, and Ms Smith never told me.

One evening, Jackie had allowed me to spend the night at Ms Smith's rather than the Clarks when she was away for some salon training.

That evening found us before the fire.

"What was she like, your aunt?"

Ms Smith looked up at the urn she kept in the bookshelf, more like a decorative piece than for remembrance.

"She was strict but kind. She would often hide her kindness for duty, but…" Ms Smith rubbed her thumb across the rim of her teacup, "But I really do think she was a woman that loved greatly. Her work was her life, in many ways I've found myself taking after her in this way."

It seemed like a lonely life, but I knew if I got further than skin deep with Ms Smith she had a habit of ending the conversation.

"I've never had an aunt before. Mum's family are all gone now, we only have some cousins on Pete's side."

Keen journalist eyes looked at my own and I knew she caught what I didn't say aloud.

"Well, I can be an aunt if you like."

"Aunt Jane, I rather like it."

Her eyes widened before she smiled, "Yes I rather like it myself."