The First Sign of Impending Disaster

Summary: Mickey observes Rose. He wonders what she's hiding, what Torchwood has to do with it, and why the multiverse is so strange and wonderful.

Disclaimer: I don't own this, I make no money for it, I'm only borrowing.

A/N: LJ's celuthea, oh wonderful beta, has approved this, so if there's any mistake I judiciously and cheerfully blame it on her. /sticks out tongue/ Also, may I just say that I have no idea where this idea sprung from, but it occurred to me while reading Jack/Ianto fic, so I will blame Myfanwy for the plot premise. So there. Now, I'm going to try and sleep. No, actually, I really am this time. Maybe.

:::

On a clear weather day with zeppelins proud and high in the sky, Rose Tyler returns from work at Torchwood with a tiny little smile, which is, of course, the first sign of impending disaster. It's very unsettling, for reasons undefined.

Mickey Smith works for Torchwood as well, but has recently been reassigned to another team (the fact that Jake is on that team is a complete coincidence, by the way), and only sees Rose when they're at their flat, these days. He has no idea what's going on, and dares, hesitantly, to ask exactly what had happened.

Rose twists her head around and shrugs, grinning tongue-between-teeth. "Pretty boring day, actually." She turns around again, continuing the washing of dishes. "There was one little mess to clear up, I guess. This woman comes in and tries to trick Torchwood into buying an apparently rare alien artifact. But she intended to take the up-front payment and run."

"Run from Torchwood?"

"Don't sound so incredulous; it's not impossible." Rose says this in a very matter of fact way that makes Mickey wonder, again, what goes through her head sometimes. "Anyway, we caught her at it and made her a deal. She's happily taking up refuge in twenty-first century London for a few years. Seems to know a fair bit about zeppelins. That's all that happened today. Why do you ask?"

"Well… You came home smiling."

Rose freezes for a moment. Then, slowly, she continues to rub the dishrag across the china. "I did?" she finally says.

"Yeah."

"Oh."

Mickey can't help but feel something is missing from this picture, but doesn't have any idea where to begin with questions. He gives up, and decides simply to keep his eyes and ears open, for all the good it will do him. He hasn't been able to understand her for months.

:

The little smile is on her face the next day, as well. Once is an anomaly, twice is simply unheard of, and Mickey realizes why that smile is so unsettling. It's because Rose looks just the tiniest bit happy with that smile, and she hasn't looked happy since Canary Wharf.

Again, he feels very clueless. This day, he doesn't question it. Instead, he watches telly. Manchester United is United Manchester in this world, and their colors are purple and black. He cheers for them anyway. Loyalty goes beyond parallel universes, in Mickey's book. (Except when it doesn't.)

:

For seven whole days, the smile remains. Rose still tells him about Torchwood. Apparently, there was a little time anomaly somewhere around Charing Cross, but it quickly righted itself. There was also a tiny incident involving a Ta'elean toothbrush-equivalent, but other than that, a relatively quiet week. Rose isn't lying, but still Mickey has the impression she is hiding something.

:

The smile disappears, and Mickey nearly forgets about it as several weeks pass.

Instead, Rose seems slightly troubled by something, as if she's trying to make a decision or puzzle something through. It seems like a familiar process, as if he should already know what's going on with her, as if this has happened before. But it hasn't. He's never seen Rose quite this harried, and it's odd.

"You know, you can always tell me, right? Best friend, always."

Rose smiles apologetically, and shrugs. "I think I have to deal with it myself."

"No, you don't."

"Please?"

Mickey drops the subject. Years ago, before the Doctor, maybe he might have pushed. But though he was still Rose's best friend, she was still so much different. Subdued. Quiet. Cleverer than ever, but a far cry from old Rose. It's not necessarily a bad change, and usually hints of old Rose peek through, enough to reassure him, but he can't help but worry. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to see her change if she wasn't so distant as a result.

It's as though she can't connect to the real world anymore. She doesn't know how to act in a linear timestream. He does the best he can to help, but he's her closest friend, and still she shies away.

He would love to help with whatever is making Rose so confused, but he won't. This Rose wants to handle it herself, and he has to deal with that.

Linear life is overrated.

:

He overhears her, in snippets, whenever he walks past her bedroom door, and isn't sure who she is talking to from within the restrictive confines of that blank space. He assumes her phone is involved.

"Yes, of course."

"I really hate you."

"No, I know I'm supposed to be in early, I just…"

"Like to see you try it."

"Yeah, but is it him, or her?"

"I don't know what to do!"

"Will they accept it?"

"She did it."

"But I'm not. I swear I'm not."

"This is wrong."

"The dry cleaners."

"It feels right, but then logic comes back and I'm even more confused, Jones!"

"...Tomorrow. It's not soon enough."

Somewhere woven in between these threads of life lies the truth.

Mickey is very bad at sewing and often pricks his finger on needles, painfully, if he tries. Assuming this skill applies metaphorically, he allows the threads to tie themselves into knots, and hold themselves together, because as much as he'd like to see the weaving pattern, he knows he won't see it until it's being shown.

Mickey makes a mental note to stop reading the philosophy books on Jake's bookshelves. Maudlin doesn't suit him.

:

One day, Rose Tyler does not come back from work.

There is a very curious message left on Mickey Smith's mobile.

"Hey, Mickey. I'm, uh, staying at a friend's-" There is a distinctly feminine giggle in the background. "Overnight. Don't want to worry you. Everything's fine, I'll-" For some reason, Rose pauses mid-sentence. "See you tomorrow, love you, bye!"

Mickey decides not to worry for Rose's physical safety that night. Mental, however, is a different matter entirely.

:

She returns from work the next evening, and Mickey stares for a moment, speechless.

"Hey, Mickey."

"Hello."

"I know you're waiting to ask… Go ahead."

"I don't mean to be cold, but… You have friends?"

It's obvious that this wasn't the first question she was expecting. Rose smiles, oddly embarrassed, and shrugs. "Just the one, really. Met her at work."

He blinks. "And these are the kinds of clothes she normally wears? And they fit?"

Rose is wearing a tight-fitting pair of black trousers, mid-calf length black boots, a white v-neck shirt with a low cut that seems to have been made for a slightly bustier woman, and a long, blue-almost-black coat. It looks good on her, as if, in another life, she might just wear outfits like that all the time. However, Mickey is used to a far more subdued Rose by now. This clothing is quite frankly sexier than anything he has ever seen Rose wear.

"Yeah, why's it got you so bothered?" she asks. She crosses her arms and raises one brow in challenge.

"Nothing, really, it's just… Okay, two things. One, and I mean this from a completely objective viewpoint, I swear: you look amazing."

A pretty little blush rises in her cheeks, but Rose mostly maintains her stern look. "And two?"

"Two… I don't know, I guess I thought… Well, I didn't think the kind of woman who wears that sort of thing would be the kind of person you'd be friends with."

Rose colours a little more like her namesake at that. "Shows what you know," she says for the sake of argument. "Look, it's fine, alright?"

"Alright," he agrees reluctantly, "but I want to meet this friend sometime."

"Sure," agrees Rose.

She sounds even more reluctant than he did, and Mickey doubts that he will meet Rose's new friend for a while yet.

:

He is right.

Rose comes to the flat smiling for three and a half weeks, except for the nine nights when she doesn't come home, apparently staying over at that friend's again.

Mickey counted.

:

On Mickey's day off, Rose goes to work, but leaves her mobile phone behind by accident.

It rings and he picks up.

"Rose?" Even over the phone, Mickey can tell that the voice belongs to a female, and likely one who can sing very well. A nearly perfect voice.

"No, sorry, this is Mickey."

"What? Where's Rose?" Apparently, the woman is American. Why does an American have Rose's phone number?

"On her way to work. I think she left her phone behind. Was going to run it over to her later." He pauses. "Who is this?"

"Jane."

"Who?"

"From Torchwood – wait, she hasn't told you about me?" There is an element of surprise and perhaps a bit of sadness in the tone.

Mickey catches on. "She did say she had a new friend. Is that you?"

"Must be." Despondence. "Never mind, I'll just… I hope to officially meet you soon, Mickey Smith."

There is a click. Jane has hung up. Mickey.

:

Rose returns looking a little stressed that night, but says that all she needs is a bubble bath and sleep when Mickey asks.

"Oh, and Mickey?" she says, a split second before closing the door, and locking herself in her bedroom.

"I… I'm bringing Jane around tomorrow. Try not to freak out when you see her, and try to remember that she's… important to me, okay?"

Rose shuts the door before Mickey has a chance to reply.

Mickey sits up awake for a little while, and then it hits him.

Could it be that simple?

:

Mickey hesitates before he opens the door. Behind it, he knows, is Jane, because Rose wouldn't have any need to knock.

He opens the door.

Behind it is an absolutely stunning woman with long dark hair and bright blue eyes, wearing nearly the same outfit that Rose had worn weeks ago. Boots, coat, trousers, everything. She is completely gorgeous, and Mickey is flatly stunned.

"Mickey Smith!" she chirps, her melodic voice dancing over the syllables. She runs her eyes up and down, blatantly checking him out, and then grins disarmingly, almost flirtatiously, putting him perfectly off balance. "It's nice to meet you at last. Rose got caught up with our boss; she'll be along in a moment." She holds out a hand. "I'm Captain Jane-"

She is female, but Mickey realizes he already knows her, just as a him.

"Harkness," he finishes.

"Rose told you that?"

"Sort of."

Suddenly the world makes a lot more sense. Or is it less? He's not sure which.

But rather quickly he manages to piece the story together. This is the parallel world version of Captain Jack Harkness. Apparently, in this world, it's Captain Jane Harkness. And now he knows why that smile on Rose's face has been so unsettling. It's not only because the smile shows that Rose is happy, but it shows that Rose is in love, which would make Jane…

"Are you Rose's girlfriend?" he blurts.

Jane frowns slightly. "I don't know that I'd use the word girlfriend, but I guess the term applies. Loosely."

"That explains… I don't think I can even begin to tell you how much that explains."

The charming smile is back, with a wicked glint in her eyes to match. "Oh, I think you can," she all but purrs.

Mickey just shakes his head, trying to get the concept to sink in. This person is absolutely, certainly, Jack Harkness. As a girl. Even for his life, this is beyond weird.

Finally he remembers manners.

"Care for a cup of tea?"

"Why not?" She seems to find it quaint.

"I'll… put a kettle on."

Jane follows him in.

:

Rose comes home about fifteen minutes later. By then, Jane and Mickey are already in the middle of a conversation. Rose easily slips into place at Jane's side, and Jane puts a possessive arm around Rose's waist. Rose leans into the hold. Conversation continues casually, as if nothing has happened at all.

:

Rose falls asleep on Jane's shoulder shortly after their dinner of pizza and alcohol, exhausted by the day's events. When talk dwindles between the other two, Jane smiles and asks if she can stay.

"It's hardly my choice, and it looks like Rose has decided already. She trusts you, or she wouldn't have fallen asleep like that. She's normally very…" He searches for a word. "Guarded."

For the first time all night, Jane looks almost vulnerable and a bit miserable and is human. "I know. I know she trusts me. I don't know why and for all I know, she shouldn't."

"Because of…" Mickey cuts himself off.

"Of what?"

"Because of those missing two years?"

Jane's jaw drops open with absolute shock. Her voice is shaky when she next speaks. "How?"

"That's Rose's story to tell," Mickey says slowly. "If you stick around, you'll hear it soon. It's not my place to say, but I sort of… Know you from before. That's why she trusts you." Mickey hesitates for a moment, and then adds one last remark. "We know you're worth trusting."

Jane is silent for a while, utterly flattened by Mickey's words. Like she's never been trusted before, Mickey can't help but be amazed by that fact. He always knew, from Rose, that Jack Harkness had more depth to him, but had never seen it for himself, having only met the bloke the one time.

"Time travel?" Jane asks.

"Something like that. Don't worry, no paradoxes or anything."

Jane nods, and strokes Rose's hair affectionately. "She's as broken as me," Jane says quietly. "But still so innocent and bright." She smiles up at Mickey, and it's a bit more sincere now. "Mind if I tuck her into bed? And kip here for a bit?"

He doesn't.

:

Before he goes to sleep that night, Mickey calls Jake up, and talks with him for a few minutes.

He dreams of gingerbread houses, and of people who are bigger on the inside no matter what the outside, and of the strange, wonderful ways belonging to each.