a/n: One of my followers on tumblr asked me to post here so I am! This is a true AU - part of trope bingo. The tropes are Band AU and sharing a bed. It's based on Ten/Rose with many other re-purposed DW characters showing up. I am not a music person but I gave it my best shot. This fic would not have happened without serious assistance from kahki820, Bittie752, LittleWhoMouse, Whoinwhoville and many many other friends and followers who are too numerous to name but know who they are. This is Ten/Rose with others popping in here and there.

Warning: Strong language/cursing

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or any of the music that is quoted in this story

Rose sat in the dingy hotel room, looking at her blackened eye in the mirror as the florescent lights flickered next to her. Make up ran down her face, her clothes were torn and her pale arm was bruising to match the brutal handprint of the Toclafanes' manager known around the music world as The Master. She snorted and winced, touching her face gingerly as she thought about that name. Harry Saxon was the Master all right, the Master git, deceiver, liar and all around thief. Oh, he was clever and good at getting his way, convincing everyone he was the best, knew best and would make everyone lots of money and he did. Except, he was the one who made most of the money and off the hard work of others who made only a pittance in comparison. They did all the work and he got all the credit. They sweated their arses off, stayed in filthy cesspool hotels, traveled in old broken down buses, ate at rubbish cafes while he stayed at the poshest hotels, living on champagne and caviar. Of course, when the press was around, they were primped, polished and shown to be living the rock star life but that was all a façade, a carefully crafted illusion.

He made sure the public only saw what he wanted them to see and always made sure he had control over all of his musicians and their lives. He controlled who was around them, who spoke to them, where they were permitted to go, what they ate, what songs they played, even what clothes they wore. Their security guards seemed more like they were jailors and informants than than guards protecting them from their fans. And, if one of them slipped away and did something the Master didn't like, well, there would be hell to pay. Punishments were swift and involved everything from threats of breach of contract, black listing and destroyed reputations with leaked stories to the most horrendous of the tabs.

Tonight, Rose had reached her limit. She watched him yank one of the new back up singers into a room back stage. She knew what that meant as he'd tried it with her once and only once. As she looked in the mirror now, she mused she looked worse now than after his attempt to force her to submit to his twisted sexual desires. She had quickly and painfully enlightened him she was not some slag he could take against a wall and he never touched her again. He'd limped away from her threatening her career if she didn't get with the program. Rose had given in the two fingered salute and stormed past him, muttering that she'd make him master of one less thing if he touched her again. It didn't stop him from abusing other people in the group and that included make up artists, wardrobe assistants, musicians or dancers. To him, they were all there for his pleasure and he owned them.

So when Rose saw him drag off his latest victim, she decided she'd had enough and stormed in after him, finding the girl begging him to stop. She'd pulled him off and ordered him out. He'd been angry, insane with rage and he struck her. It was enough to fuel her own fury and the two of them went at each other. By the time the stage hands got there and pulled them apart, Rose had a black eye, torn clothes, a split lip and possibly a cracked rib. He was worse, with a broken nose, scratched face, gripping his groin in pain and bleeding from his mouth. He fired her on the spot, screaming for security to remove her and promised he'd ruin her career and her life. She proudly told him to fuck off and stormed out in her thigh high stiletto boots and torn slinky pink and black skin tight dress and headed directly back to the rubbish hotel to pack her things.

Now here she sat, without a job, very little money, and not sure where to go. She'd already burned her bridges with her Mum who disagreed with her leaving university to run head long into the music business and especially not with the Toclafane. Even Rose's success hadn't garnered any suppor from her mother who refused to speak to Rose after she'd left home. To her mum, Rose was wasting her life and had developed airs and graces, living too far above where she came from and not showing sufficient appreciation for her roots. Her mother was a firm believer that life was about getting a real job, and the music business did not meet that criteria; meeting a bloke with a good job; getting married and having kids. Rose didn't want that or at least not yet. She wanted to have fun, travel and see things. To that end, being the lead singer in the Toclafane had achieved that. She had traveled and seen a bit of the world but not much due to the Master's regimented schedule and insane control of every minute of her life. She sighed as she thought about it. At least she was free now.

After Rose packed up, she decided she needed to disappear, go somewhere and get a fresh start. With that in mind, the first thing she did was cut her cinnamon colored locks and dyed her hair blonde. She changed from the sex kitten clothes she wore for the band into a t-shirt, hoody, jeans and trainers. She lamented leaving her beloved Fender behind but it was back in her dressing room at the venue and there was no way she was going back there. She took a deep breath and knew she needed to get on with her last task, going to the ATM to withdraw the meager balance in in her account and buy a ticket to a place no one would expect to find her, an obscure seaside town called Gallifrey she'd seen advertised in a magazine tucked into a drawer in her room.

A single girl arriving in such a small town with only a duffle bag and a black eye tended to capture attention. This was different attention then she normally garnered which she was thankful for even if it was local gossip about a troubled stranger and whispers wondering if she was running from the authorities. Rose was accustomed to dealing with unwanted attention and found it was better to act normal like you fit in rather than try to hide behind sunglasses and big hats. She walked down the street, inquiring at a newsstand about a spare room and was directed to an old Victorian home on a hill on the outskirts of town.

It was a large home, white and worn but in otherwise good repair with a few sparse gardens along the manicured walk leading up to the front. She was greeted at the door by a middle aged, brown haired woman by the name of Harriet Jones who said she was expecting her. Rose hesitated wondering how until she saw Harriet's mobile practically vibrating with text messages. Rose smiled. Small town gossip should never be underestimated.

Harriet Jones was a widow whose husband was the Mayor of Gallifrey. He had died suddenly three years ago leaving her a comfortable by lonely life. She sat Rose down in her parlour, decorated with a variety of dark wood antique furniture, paintings of landscapes of the ocean which Rose assumed were local and filled with miscellaneous bric-a-brac one would expect in such a house. Harriet set down a tray with biscuits and china with pink roses on it. She poured Rose a cup.

"Cream and sugar?" she asked.

"Just a touch of cream, thanks," Rose responded and accepted the cup and sipped. It was Earl Grey, her favorite.

"Now, then young lady. Perhaps you'd like to me how you found yourself in Gallifrey and what you're running from?" Harriet asked in a no nonsense tone, sipped her own tea and looked at Rose expectantly.

Rose smiled pleased to be around normal non-entertainment people again. Harriet Jones was direct and to the point. She liked that. In the music industry, people were so busy trying to manipulate you or use you, it was rare to find someone so honest.

"Well, Mrs. Jones, to be honest, I was in a bad situation and I needed to get away. I needed a quiet place to settle for a while and think. Gallifrey seemed like a good place," Rose informed her, trying to be as discrete as possible.

"I see," Harriet said and sipped her tea. "And who are you running from?"

"I didn't do anything wrong if that's what you're gettin' at." Rose weighed her words carefully knowing that she had to tell Harriet something if she wanted to stay in town. She had a feeling that Harriet Jones would either make her stay here easier or make things difficult. Rose didn't have enough money for another bus trip and honestly, she was afraid the press would be looking for her once they got wind of whatever story the Master conjured up.

"It's complicated," she started to explain.

"Yes, I'm quite sure it is," Harriet responded and offered her a biscuit.

Rose accepted and munched on the biscuit. She sipped her tea and continued. "My boss was a bit of a horror. He was doing things that polite people don't' talk about. He went after this girl, took her back to do things to her and I knew what he was up to." She paused staring down at her tea and then looked back at Harriet. "I knew because he tried it with me and I couldn't stand there and watch that happen to that poor girl. So, I stopped him and as you can see," Rose said pointing to her face. "He wasn't too happy 'bout it. Then he fired me which to be honest wasn't a bad thing. But, he's real powerful and could make my life a misery, will make my life a misery so I had to get away. I needed a place away from everythin' to just take a break."

Harriet stared at her for a while and then set her cup down. "I think I believe you or at least what you've told me so far. I strongly suspect there's much more to this story. What I need to know is if I should expect the police here looking for you."

Rose thought about this. She supposed the Master could file charges against her except that would mean everyone would find out what he was doing. One girl had filed charges against him but nothing came of it when he paid everyone off. A second incident, however, would not be so easily dismissed. No, he wouldn't be going to the police. That wasn't his way. He'd handle it in the press, accuse her of being a diva, drug addict or alcoholic on a bender. It would be something to make him look like the victim.

"No, he won't want that. I'm sure he's already doing his best to try and cover everything up. Like I said, he's rich and powerful and won't want anyone to know 'bout it and I don't want anythin' more to do with 'im. I just want out and to get my life back."

"You sound as if you were lucky to escape, as if you had no means to leave prior to this. What sort of employer has that much control over one's life?"

Rose fidgeted and picked nervously at her cuticles. "You'd be surprised, everyone would be." It then occurred to her how bad this sounded and she straightened up and looked at Harriet. "I mean, it was nothin' illegal, I promise you."

Harriet smiled at her. "Don't worry dear, I don't think you're a prostitute and even if you were and wanted to start a new life, I wouldn't turn you out for that," she said and patted Rose on the knee. "What sort of Christian woman would I be if I did that!"

Rose smiled at her warmly and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Now then, let's get to brass tacks about your room and board," Harriet announced and poured more tea.

The more she chatted with Harriet, the more she liked her. Harriet was kind, intelligent, witty and had a no nonsense attitude. They struck a deal for Rose to rent a room from her. Rose agreed to help out with some household chores and pay a minimum monthly room and board charge. Harriet showed her around and told her the history of the house and helped Rose settle in. She could tell Harriet wanted to know more but was content to allow Rose to tell her in her own time.

Rose was sure finding a job would be difficult with no decent CV and especially when she was leaving out her rock star past. She considered herself lucky that not many of her fans knew her real name, Rose Tyler. The Master had insisted on inventing ridiculous names for all the members of The Toclafane and hers was Prydonian or Pryd for short. She would not be revealing any of that here in the hopes that she could stay hidden away for a while. Harriet was very kind and insisted Rose take her time finding employment. She kept Rose busy with tasks assisting her with the cleaning and upkeep of the home.

Not long after she settled in, Sarah Jane, a middle aged, polished brown haired petite woman, who was the editor of the local paper and a friend of Harriet's and had stopped by for tea one night. Rose was sure it was more than just a casual social call. This was a small town and Harriet was well respected. Rose had a feeling that Sarah Jane was there to check her out and make sure she was not doing any harm to Harriet. Rose had dealt with the press before and was good at evading questions. Sarah Jane was just as good at asking them.

"So, Rose, what did you say you did before arriving in Gallifrey?" Sarah Jane asked.

Rose swallowed a bite of almond cake. "I didn't."

Sarah Jane looked at her expectantly, her tea cup half way to her mouth.

Rose smiled. "I worked in the entertainment industry."

"I see," Sarah Jane said with a look on her face indicating exactly what kind of entertainment she believed Rose was involved in.

Rose sighed and looked unhappily at her. "Ms. Smith, I think maybe you've got the wrong idea. There's lots of kinds of entertainin. I happen to be a musician," Rose recited leaving out that she was also a singer which was her main gig.

Sarah Jane, set her tea cup down. "Oh, how brilliant. Anything we've heard of," she asked, digging for more information.

Rose stared at her tea, not wanting to answer and trying to come up with something to tell the reporter.

Harriet stepped. "Speaking of employment, Rose is looking for work in town. I was thinking perhaps Mrs. McCrimmon…"

Harriet was on Rose's side and several times quite charmingly diverted Sarah Jane's attention to other subjects. Rose fell a little more in love with Harriet after watching her deftly handle her good friend. Rose wanted to show Harriet her appreciation and dove into her domestic duties with gusto. She may not have been the best and had a few minor mishaps but she was a hard worker and Harriet seemed to appreciate that. Although, Harriet did very gently suggest that perhaps it was time for Rose to seek employment in town as they had discussed over tea with Sarah Jane after one particular mishap.

Rose couldn't help the giggle that burst out as Harriet gently suggested her employment prospects while gazing in astonishment at the hand held hoover hanging off the now shredded curtains in the parlour. Rose had apologized profusely and agreed that maybe she should find something a little better suited to her talents.