Rating: All Ages
Word Count: 3182
Author's Summary: Rose isn’t ready to settle down just yet. Romana fails in her first attempt to return to N-Space. Mostly. Post Journey's End, but only for one of them.
Characters/Pairings: Romana II, Rose Tyler
There is a whole genre of Who fics devoted to the question of "What happened to Rose?" and another whole cascade asking, "And what about Romana?" This fic lives where the Ven Diagram of those two questions intersect. It plays with themes of time and fate. It isn't really about Rose as The Bad Wolf, but does a lot with that theme and uses it in ways that I haven't seen elsewhere. It uses emotions the way an artist uses colour. There are moments of aching loneliness, nostaligia, joy, hope, and punch-to-the-gut sorrow. It's very difficult to describe without giving too much away. But it's a short read, and one I'm recommending to anyone who enjoys Rose, Romana, or Timey-Wimey fic in general.
The first time they meet it is, incidentally, raining.
Rose is rushing down the street when she quite literally runs into her. A stranger in this strange reality, staring up into the rain at the buildings and the zeppelins — at the world itself — with such a familiar mix of perplexity and fascination on her face that for a single moment, Rose forgets that she has some place to be. She forgets that her father has finally promised to put some more funding into interdimensional travel. She forgets how desperate she is to return home.
(Later she’ll decide that she should have known even then — that the oddness of her manner and the cut of her clothing should have given it away.)
The stranger regains her balance quickly enough to keep them both from falling. There’s strength in her grip, the kind that Rose has come to associate with only one person. She stares at Rose for an instant, a strange, stunned sense of recognition in her eyes, but then she looks away and the moment ends. That should mean something, Rose thinks, but her mind is spinning too wildly to determine what.
The woman suddenly grins at her. “What a lovely day for tennis,” she comments brightly, brushing damp hair out of her face. “Tell me… this is Earth, isn’t it?”