Author's Note: I own precisely NONE of the Doctor Who characters. I will be posting the first three chapters three days in a row, so we can hurry up and get to the point where our favoritest Time Lord shows up. After that, I'll post a new chapter Mondays and Thursdays.

Yes, you're going to have to deal with this BS "plot" stuff before the inevitable payoff.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

"Are you sure about this, love?" Jackie asked, tilting her head as she looked at the banner that stretched across the foyer. The grand staircase was lit up in the bright morning light of a rare sunny day, and servants bustled around them, setting decorations and polishing every inch of the mansion.

"I told you I didn't want a birthday party, I'll be happy to can the whole thing." Rose replied, grinning. Her hair, now its natural dark, dirty blond, was twisted up in a messy bun, and a tattered, filthy ruck sack hung from her right shoulder. Jackie had been mortified at the sight of her when she waltzed in that morning. Just in time.

"Don't be stupid, you have to have a party. Been gone for months, you. The invitations have been sent, and you promised."

"I know, I know, mum. Just, what's the problem, now?"

"The banner, of course!" Jackie hissed, "It says you're thirty!"

"But I am thirty. Unless you've forgotten." Rose pointed out, nudging her mom with her free arm.

"Don't be fresh. I know how old you are, but you don't have to advertise it."

"What's the matter with it?"

"Thirty, darling. Thirty! No husband, no kids, no proper home. I don't want everyone thinkin' you're…"

"What?" Rose interjected, her humor lost, "Thinkin' I'm what?"

"Look," Jackie sighed, turning to look at her daughter for the first time, "It's just – I know things didn't work out with Tom, and that's fine. You were young and it wasn't long after…" Jackie let the sentence drop and Rose averted her gaze to the marble floor, "but that doesn't mean you can't have a good life."

"I do have a good life, mum," Rose said, raising her eyes to meet her mother's.

"But don't you want something more, sweetheart? Don't you want what your dad and I have?"

"Stepdad. Ish."

"Shut it, you know what I mean."

"I know," Rose smiled, "but I tried, mum. I did."

"You were young, though. And it was too soon after…"

"After the dimension canon failed." Rose finished. "It doesn't matter. Everything with Tom, it was real, mum. It was real, but it wasn't right. Not for me. Took me a long time to figure that out."

"Things might be different, now. You've grown so much, sweetheart. You're different than you were."

"Yes," Rose allowed, "and no. I've grown into the person I was meant to be, mum, and I know it. What works for everyone else, it doesn't work for me."

"How do you know?" Jackie asked, her eyes welling with tears, "No one cares about the divorce, love. It's not too late."

"Mum," Rose took her mom in her arms and held her, a somber smile on her face, "It's all right. Just trust me, OK? I don't do domestic."

"I have receipts!" Rose announced, stepping into the humming hub of Torchwood Tower. Mickey Smith, known to the world as Ricky, an irony not lost on him, turned around, grinning. She was a right mess, kitted out in a black ribbed tank top, khaki cargo pants, and faded, mud-caked pink Chuck Taylors. She was also smiling like a nutter.

"Well, well, look what the Catkind drug in." he rushed forward to embrace her as she dropped her ruck sack unceremoniously to the floor. Mickey, the head of Interdimensional Research at the Torchwood Institute, swung Rose around before setting her down to a moment of profound silence. All the analysts and techs on the 63rd floor had stopped to stare at the unconventional behavior of their boss. After a moment, Mickey and Rose noticed the stillness, and regained their composure.

"Right, then," Mickey addressed his subordinates, "Back to work. No use gawkin'."

"I'm sure we've just instigated all manor of rumors." Rose commented, picking up her bag.

"Might as well push it, then. My office?" Mickey offered his arm. Rose smiled and took it, thinking just how odd it was to see Mickey in a proper suit and tie. After the Cybermen removed themselves to her own universe and were defeated, the war against them in this universe had ended. The Peoples' Republic took over, and Mickey, no longer needed for combat, was elevated to his current station. Rose had worked with him for a time, trying to build a dimensional cannon that would return her to the Doctor. It failed.

Winding through the bright, sterile workstations of the Division techs, Mickey and Rose reached his office. Beyond the plexiglas front, there sat a single, cluttered desk surrounded on one side by bookshelves loaded with binders and on the other by a corkboard wall covered in schematics, charts, and red-flagged pushpins. Opposite the door, a wall of windows displayed the zeppelin-crowded London skyline and the murky Thames below.

"It's not fair you get the nice office," Rose mocked, setting down her bag and plopping down on one of the stainless steal chairs.

"Yeah, that's what happens when you don't go swannin' off for months at a time, gypsy girl."

"It's my job." Rose grinned, "And I have…"

"Receipts, yeah, I heard you," Mickey chuckled, sitting down at his desk.

"At least I didn't forget them this time." She pointed out, pulling an overstuffed folder out of her pack.

"Jesus, Rose, all that?"

"Six months worth, what did you think?"

"In New South Africa, not that. Did you buy the hotel, then? You're going to bleed this place dry."

"Hardly," Rose scoffed, tossing the folder onto his desk, "How's Julie and the kids." Mickey smiled and touched the wedding band on his hand.

"Good, Rose, good, thanks for asking. Charlotte's just got the training wheels off her bicycle last week. Insisted on it. Said she can't follow Auntie Rose with training wheels on."

"She did not! You liar."

"She did, though! Hand to god. Julie wasn't too pleased, mind. If you go draggin' her only daughter off to the ends of the earth, she'll have your head."

"Noted," Rose said, chuckling.

"How are you, though? Took a while to track down a hunk of scrap metal."

"It was a piece of the starboard aileron from a Nefirian freighter." Rose corrected, "And I'm wonderful. It was harder than you think, you know? Getting the local tribesmen to cooperate. I mean, I found the crater easy enough, but the artifact had been moved. A small band of Zulu tribesmen saw the crash and when the piece cooled, they carried it off to their village. They thought it was a powerful item, and they weren't all wrong, really. I tried tracking it down, but after the fall of the Second Apartheid, the Zulu don't trust us. Can't say I blame them." Rose frowned, staring off into space. After a bit of a pause, Mickey waved a hand in front of her.

"Oi, still there, Rose?"

"Right!" Rose startled herself back to the present, "Sorry, I was just thinking of this village I saw. Well, it used to be a village… Sorry, anyway, there are so many tribes throughout the country, and none of them will speak to us, anymore. Finally, I was at a bar in Johannesburg when I met a young Xhosa man, Gcobani. He spoke Zulu, as well as English and Afrikaans, which is odd, nobody there admits to speaking Afrikaans, anymore, never mind English. Anyway, we became quite good friends and he helped me make contact with the Zulu. Took a bit, to find the right village and all. Once we did, we still couldn't get close to the sacred site, the hut where they kept the artifact. Gcobani and I had to live with them for a month before we could even see it."

"Wait, how did the Zulu allow a white person, never mind a Brit, to live with them?" Mickey interrupted.

"Well," Rose shrugged sheepishly but couldn't honestly manage a blush, "Gcobani pretended to be my husband. The village elder found it hilarious, some sort of cosmic revenge, I suppose. A tribesmen doin' to me what we done to the Zulu. Eventually, we managed to sneak into the sacred hut and I confirmed the artifact's origin. After that…"

"Yes, we all know what happened after that; you, running across the Transvaal with a band of Zulu warriors hot on your arse. It took a presidential decree to keep it out of the news so Jackie wouldn't find out."

"Yeah, thanks for that. It's not my fault, though. Mum made me promise I'd be home by today. I had to get the artifact and get out."

"Oh, no problem at all," Mickey waved it off with a sardonic smile, "But, just so you know, the HMFWIC is talking about limiting the number of aerial extractions you're allowed in a calendar year."

"Right. It has sort of gotten to the point where I wave my arms and shout 'Taxi!' as the traffic helicopter flies by." Rose mused, earning a grudging laugh from Mickey.

"You're the best asset we have, Rose, but sometimes I think you've a death wish."

"Not in the least. Can I leave these receipts with you? I need to get ready for mum's daft party." Rose asked as she stood and gathered up her bag.

"You mean your daft party? It is your birthday, Rose."

"Maybe, but the party wasn't my idea. You'll be there, yeah? You and Julie?

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Mickey assured. After saying their goodbyes, Rose left. Mickey sat for a moment in silence. Finally, when he was sure she was gone, he reached for the button on his intercom.

"Mrs. Roth, please bring me the Hippocrates File."