Darting a hopeful eye to the clock across the shop floor, Rose felt her heart lift a little lighter. 6:02. Done for the day.

As time went on she felt that working in the shop was slowly driving her insane. It always felt like someone was playing a cruel trick on her with that godforsaken thing. Each second was torture; the shuddering hand ticked towards each minute with a painful indifference, unaware of her quiet encouragements to go faster.

But as soon as that hand reached six, she had to be out of there like a shot. She had to meet Mickey at her mum's on this particular day. Rose had always had a habit of being late, but lately it was getting a little bit ridiculous. It seemed she had her head in the clouds more often than usual. But today she wouldn't let him down. He hated being stuck on his own with her mum for more than ten seconds…the day she was an hour late home she found him practically climbing the walls.

Hurrying towards the door behind some of the other girls, she grimaced as she saw the security guard. Larry raised a knowing eyebrow as he pulled a little plastic bag from his pocket.

She forced a painful smile on her face as she took the package.

Suppressing a sigh she began hurrying back across the shop to the lifts. Every week some of the staff would do a quick round to buy a load of lottery tickets. She was certain they'd never win but at least it would inject a bit of excitement into her otherwise uneventful Saturday night. She dithered for a moment at the thought. God…that was depressing.

Don't be late, don't be late! She repeated the mantra in her head, hoping it would make time slow just a little for her.

She cast her eye across the shop, weighing up the quickest way to get to the handyman's office.

To her right…the elevator. Pros: It took you right down to the basement. Cons: It was on the other side of the shop and God knows how long it would take to arrive.

To her left…the stairs. Pros: You'd get there in half the time if you ran. Of course it would shave maybe a couple of minutes off her trip but it was a few less minutes Mickey could hold against her. Cons: Exercise.

Left or right, left or right, left or right, left or right…

She gave another glance to the clock. 6:05.

Damn it.

"Left it is." She ran across the shop floor to the door marked Staff Only, hand gripping her flimsy work pass in her pocket. She held it against the scanner, frowning as it beeped red.

"Come on." She repeatedly pressed it to the little black box, scowling as it gave her that ominous little red light. No entry. Looking at her pass and trying to ignore the awful picture her heart dropped as she saw the date.

Expires: 02/03/05

March 2nd. 3 days ago. Great.

6:08.

The bus journey took half an hour at least. And she only had twenty minutes.

"Sod it." She ran back to Larry giving her best apologetic face.

"Tell Wilson I'm sorry, I just can't be late again." She called over her shoulder trying her best to ignore the receiving eye roll.

She hurried into the cold nights air, eyes scanning for the familiar scarlet bus that had become almost her second home.

She glanced at the sky and took a moment to wonder how on Earth it had gotten so dark in such a short space of time before running across the road to reach her bus stop.

It was then that a burst of light blocked her vision, making it hard to see for a moment. The ground shook and she was pretty sure underneath the deafening rumbles were screams.

Rose put her keys in the lock, and before she even had a chance to turn them her mother opened the door.

"Oh, my God! Rose, what's happened to you!?" She was pulled into an embrace that she wasn't quite ready for, getting caught with her face pressed into a chest that smelled of excessive perfume.

"Mum, honestly!" She cried, voice muffled in the body of the woman still squealing for answers. Rose untangled herself and looked Jackie Tyler in the eyes.

"Mum, it's okay. Just a gas leak or something I guess, but I'm fine." Jackie scowled.

"Then you could have called." Rose held back a sigh and trundled inside, dropping her bag on the carpet.

"Honestly, it's been all over the news." As she walked into the living room she flopped onto the sofa, trying to gather her thoughts. The phone rang and her mother picked it up, no doubt one of her ridiculous gossiping friends. But Rose could forgive the constant nattering as she heard the kettle begin to boil. That's all she wanted. A cup of tea.

"Rose, what happened? You were supposed to meet me, and you were late and the store! You could have been dead, I've been phoning your mobile, what happened?" The unmistakable voice of Mickey Smith. He was always a gentle boy, softly spoken even though he could be a bit of an idiot. But his heart was always in the right place. He grasped his girlfriend into a hug as he joined her on the sofa, and for a moment Rose found his concern genuinely touching.

"Mick, honestly, I'm fine."

"What was it though? What caused it?" He persisted.

"I don't know, I wasn't even in the shop at the time." Rose sighed. Her mother came clambering into the conversation.

"Debbie's on the phone, she knows a man at the Mirror, £500 for an interview!" She said, astonished.

"Oh, that's brilliant, give it here!" Rose reached for the phone, and once the hunk of plastic was in her hand she slammed it down. Jackie tutted.

"Well, how else are you going start making money? I'm not going to bail you out." Rose was about to give a completely witty answer until the phone rang once more. Jackie reached for it like a shot.

"Bev?! She's alive."

"Oh, my God." Rose whispered as she sank deeper into the sofa.

Beep beep beep beep

Rose's hand reached blindly over her bedside table, slamming the snooze button on her alarm clock. She peered through a sheet of matted hair around the room, trying to get her bearings.

"There's no point in getting up sweetheart, you've got no job to go to." Jackie's voice floated into her room. She flopped back onto her bed, snuggling into the duvet. But then she paused. For the first time, she really thought about last night. She thought about that one moment when she was chanted left or right, left or right over and over in her head. What would have happened if she had gone right? She might have been in the explosion. She might have died. The heavy thought pressed on her chest until she let out a low exhale. She guessed some things were meant to be. Maybe deciding to go left was an act of fate or destiny…or something. Unable to sleep with that in mind, she got up, wincing as she saw the mascara smudges under her eyes. Grabbing a few tissues she set to work, rectifying it. But as she turned to throw one into the little bin over her shoulder she paused. Her eyes darted to the mirror, observing her back as her hands reached behind her, feeling the expanse of skin. She could have sworn…

"Want a cup of tea, love?" Jackie once more interrupted her thought process.

"Yeah." She called back, still touching the smooth skin. She could have sworn there was something on her back.

Rose sat at the kitchen table; listening as her mother reeled off a list of new places she could try and find work.

She was almost thankful when the doorbell rang. Jackie had padded off to her bedroom, calling for Rose to answer it.

"Alright, I'm going." She muttered, rushing over to the insistent guest constantly ringing their doorbell.

"Hello?" She said expectantly, but the word nearly died in her throat as she observed the man before her. He was skinny. That was the first thing that came to mind. The second was great hair…really great hair. He was clad in a brown pinstriped suit with converse to set it all off. He looked like a complete nutter. But…if she was being completely honest? A gorgeous nutter.

"Hello." He beamed at her, as if he was greeting an old friend. He had these wide brown eyes that were so expressive…it was strange. She felt like he was genuinely pleased to see her.

They stood there for a few seconds, the nutter still grinning at Rose as she slowly became uneasy.

"Can I help you?" She said slowly, and the man snapped into action. He patted his pockets down and flourished a brown leather wallet in front of her.

"John Smith. I'm investigating the explosion at Henriks. Rose, isn't it? You work there I believe?" Rose nodded with a sigh.

"Guess you should come in then? Honestly, I wasn't even there when it happened so I don't know what good I'll be to you. Do you want a cup of tea or are you on duty or something?" She called as she walked down the hall. John Smith smiled after her.

"That would be brilliant, thanks." He walked down the corridor, observing the family pictures on the wall. He paused at one spot, as if there should have been another picture hanging on the blank patch of wallpaper. But then he shook his head and meandered through to the kitchen. On his way he passed Jackie's room in a hurry. If Rose had listened she would have heard him mutter;

"Not repeating that part again." Rose was clattering in the kitchen, putting spoonfuls of sugar into two mugs.

"So…do you know what caused it?" She asked over her shoulder, John was still preoccupied with observing his surroundings.

"Haven't the foggiest yet." He murmured…and if she wasn't mistaken was that bemusement in his voice?

"Can I just ask…did anyone die?" John turned, seemingly caught unawares after flicking through a magazine on the table. He paused.

"Well, no. Almost. Well…. unsure how it happened this time, really." He made a face.

"What does that even mean?" Rose frowned as she warily handed him the mug.

"There was a bloke in a leather jacket who nearly got into a spot of bother, but he got out okay."

She was silent as he took a sip of the tea, eyeing him carefully from the top of her own mug.

"This time?" His mouth opened, and she could see just there in the back of those wide eyes that he was searching for the right thing to say.

"You're not part of the investigation are you." Rose said, wanting to back away from this strange man in her kitchen but at the same time not wanting to move away at all.

The man in the suit smiled and shrugged.

"I could be an investigator." She should be alarmed really, that this stranger had waltzed into her flat like he owned the place under false pretense. But there was something about those eyes…it was like she trusted him. A little bit. She scoffed.

"Who do you think you are? A poor man's Sherlock Holmes?"

"Oi, I've met Sherlock and I was by far the smartest man in the room."

"He isn't real!"

"Says you." The exchange between them was fluid, natural and almost without thinking. But afterwards he gave her a strange look. Like he was regarding a half finished painting. Like he was waiting for something more. He put his cup down with a quiet clunk.

"You're mad. Completely and utterly mad." Rose whispered.

"Oh yes…I'm pretty sure that was your favourite thing about me." She froze.

"I don't…what do you mean favourite? I've never met you before!" John Smith gave another small sad smile, slipping his hands into his suit pockets.

"Oh Rose, we were inseparable you and I." Rose rolled her eyes.

"In another life, sure."

"You could say that." He raised his eyebrows, seemingly deep in thought. Rose put her own mug down. What was she doing? Letting this stranger walk into her home and talk in riddles. He could be a murderer…a psycho for all she knew. But as much as her common sense told her that was a possibility, her mind whispered that she knew it wasn't true. But enough was enough.

"Look, just get out. Please, I've just seen a building explode and all my boyfriend is concerned about is the bloody football. I just need to rest."

"Ah, forgot Mickey the idiot was knocking about around this time. But it's okay, you're not ready, I understand." He seemed genuinely disappointed in her. He was so…sad. And she didn't like the feeling of disappointing him. Not one bit.

"Ready for what?" She said cautiously, his reaction throwing her off guard.

"Oh, nothing. Not yet anyway. See you around Rose." He said, meandering back down the hall towards the door.

"Ready for what?" Rose cried out.

The door closed behind him with a soft click. She ran towards it, pulling open the door.

"How did you know my boyfriend's name?" She cried out, only to find an empty grey balcony. About to pull on her jacket, her mum called.

"Rose! Come and help me with this. And look, the lottery is on! Who was that at the door?"

"I have no idea." Rose whispered to herself, mind racing over the encounter.

That night she dreamed of moving shop dummies and a man with flashing blue eyes and a sad smile.

A/N: I've got the next few chapters mapped out so there should be frequent updates, let me know what you thought!