"the more that you say, the less I know. wherever you stray, i follow. i'm begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans..."
In which a young woman with precognitive abilities discovers her future may lie with a mysterious Time Lord.
BOOK ONE OF T...
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"Do you think I should try the hospital?" wondered Rose.
Willow tapped her fork against the wooden table, her gaze fixed upon the cutlery. "What, like, nursing? You need a degree for that."
"No, Suki said they had a job going in the canteen." She sighed, her frown ever-present. "Is that it then, dishing out chips?"
"Yeah, it's a hard life, Rose Tyler." Her tone held no emotion. The day had worn her down, and she was too tired to make any good suggestions. She tried her best to push the Doctor out of her mind, but her desire for answers fought back every time.
"I could do A Levels. I don't know." She didn't really have many options or qualifications to her name; it was hard enough getting a job in retail. "It's all Jimmy Stone's fault. I only left school because of him. Look where he ended up." Her boyfriend stared back at her, his expression blank. "What do you think?"
He leaned forward. "So, where did you meet this Doctor?"
Willow dropped her fork upon the mention of the man's name, the item falling to the floor. As he bent down to pick it up, Rose replied. "I'm sorry, wasn't I talking about me for a second?"
Mickey didn't seem to care about changing the subject. "Because I reckon it started back at the shop, am I right? Was he something to do with that?"
She shook her head, lightly. "No."
"Come on." His lips curved into a sly, cheeky grin.
Rose's front teeth hooked her bottom lip, pulling it back ever so slightly. "Sort of."
She placed the fork back on the table, aligning it with the knife atop a clean napkin as she listened to their conversation.
"I'm not going on about it, Mickey. Really, I'm not, because, I know it sounds daft, but I don't think it's safe." Rose lowered her voice, glancing at the other patrons in the restaurant. "I think he's dangerous."
Her sister agreed with her thoughts. "Well, he kinda admitted it, so I wouldn't put it past him."
"But you can trust me, sweetheart. Babe," he flinched, his facial muscles twitching, "sugar, babe, sugar." Mickey sounded like a skipping record, his voice changing octaves. "You can tell me anything." He assured her. "Tell me about the Doctor and what he's planning, and I can help you, Rose. Because that's all I really want to do, sweetheart, babe, babe, sugar, sweetheart."
His mannerisms glitched again as if he were a robot. "What're you doing that for?"
Before he could respond, a waiter approached their table with a bottle in hand. "Your champagne."
