DISCLAIMER - I do NOT own Doctor Who or Torchwood. The characters belong to the BBC. If you read something you recognize it's not mine.
The Doctor does NOT commit any Non-Con in this story
Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy it.
No Beta, all mistakes are mine.

Remembered speech is in italics.

January the 5th, 2014:11:02 am.

"I am fairly certain your sly ogling has turned to obvious staring Rose," says Amy with a cheeky smile.

Rose's eyes dart to Amy's face then to the floor where she finds the laces on her pink chucks very interesting, allowing her hair to curtain the blush rising in her chest and face. "No, I…" What? I was what? "I…um…no…not staring or ogling. I just spaced out for a bit. It's not my fault Jack put tables in front of windows that I look out of while spacing out in the middle of the day at my job because it's slow and…"

"Christ Rose relax," Amy laughs, "Whenever you start babbling it means you're lying, we all know this and you know we know this about you," she smirks at Rose and pats her arm as she walks over to the counter to assist the customer who just walked in.

Rose isn't sure how to take that comment. Yes, it has been brought to her attention that she has a tendency to babble a bit, but it's only when she's nervous or embarrassed. Amy makes it sound like she's a liar…a liar who lies a lot too. She's not, she thinks to herself adamantly. Her brain suddenly shifts back to what Amy said. She stands in front of the counter mindlessly wiping at it with a damp rag and her mind freezes on the word ogling. Was she doing that? Rose Tyler is NOT a woman who ogles men. Ogles…Ogles…OGLES…that is a weird word she thinks.

She glances out the corner of her eye at the man she was apparently ogling. Okay, that word has got to go…it doesn't even sound like a real word anymore. She is willing to admit, even if only to herself, that he is rather fit. Tall, thin…maybe lanky is the better term for him. Fitted brown and blue pinstriped suit…very fitted…almost ill fitted actually. Light blue dress shirt, blue tie with swirly brown and silver patterns on it, white chucks, actual Chuck Taylor's not the knock off brand she tries to pull off as real. Brown hair sticking up everywhere, really great hair she thinks. He has dark brown eyes, almost black, enhanced by the tortoise shell frames of his glasses. Long, thin nose slightly askew, wonky left earlobe that is noticeably bigger than his right. Not in a circus freak kind of way…just obvious…well obvious to her anyway and shit she's staring again. Mid-thirties she thinks to herself while wiping the same spot. A professor or maybe a banker or real estate agent or…OH FOR FUCKS SAKE ROSE STOP!

Rose tries, she really does. She tries to push the thoughts of this man out of her head and focus on work. It's just so slow today there's no work to focus on. She's been here since 5:00 a.m. There's road construction blocking both ends of the street so it's been slow today, foot traffic mostly and even that was minimal. Fucking construction, fucking pot holes, fucking stupid obsessive brain that won't stop thinking about this stupid fucking man that she doesn't even know…stupid…stupid…STUPID FUCKING ROSE BRAIN!

So yes, here since opening, no customers due to construction, she had plenty of time to do all of the cleaning and stocking and ordering and payroll and inventory. Now... there is nothing to do. Nothing to occupy her mind, to keep her stupid fucking brain from allowing her eyes to ogle…there's that word again. I need a pocket thesaurus. She feels Amy slide next to her, wrap an arm around her shoulder and guide her over to a table where Rory is sitting with his laptop open. Amy places her in a chair next to Rory and stands in her line of vision. Rose sighs, at least I'm not…SHIT now I can't think of any word but ogle, and she turns her face to Rory away from Amy in an obvious "we're not discussing this again" way.

"He comes in almost every day you know," says the tall, slender redhead with light brown, almost, but not quite hazel eyes and devastating legs that just never fucking stop.

She pulls out the chair and sits down, still blocking Roses view of the …customer…yes customer. "Yes Amy, I am aware. I am after all the manager, kinda my job to know the regulars," Rose replies in as dry and sarcastic voice as she can

Rory glances up at Amy then shifts his vision to the few customers in the store scattered among the tables. "Who we talking about?" he asks Amy.

"Geek Chic, porcupine hair, glasses, laptop…and apparently the guy blocking Rose's view of the rain from the front window," Amy lets loose a little giggle.

Amy leans into Rory and whispers something in his ear after her overly loud, at least to Rose it seemed overly loud, diatribe about the …customer…yep customer that's what she's going with. Rory smiles up at Amy, a huge megawatt grin that shows his teeth…all of them…man…Rory has a lot of teeth…like a shark…just rows of pearly whiteness…that are now shining at Rose. That cannot be a good thing, all those teeth and that smile directed at her. She's known Rory and Amy long enough to know that smile on his face…it's never good. Well…never good for whom it's directed at…it's almost always good for Amy and Rory.

She loves Amy and Rory, she really, really does. They are a lovely couple and her closest friends. She's known them both for 3 years now. He is a nurse working towards being a doctor, she is…well…Amy. Rose doesn't really have a defined box to place her friend in. Amy is…funny and sweet and compassionate and mean and snarky and good and evil and spontaneous and pushy and supportive and well…Amy. Rose supposes friend is the box she puts Amy into. Boxes…her mind starts to wander on that thought. What box is she in? If Rose had to define a label for her box what would it be? Boring she thinks, responsible, a good person for sure, but…yes boring, really need to get that pocket thesaurus. She comes back to herself when Amy rises from her seat to take care of a customer at the register. She realizes that Rory is staring at her with an expectant look on his face. Shit…he asked her something but she was off in…well she doesn't really know just that she was not here

"I'm sorry Rory, did you say something?" Rose asks him.

Rory rolls his eyes at her, smiles and says, "How long have you been working here Rose?"

She looks at him, purses her lips and narrows her eyes, he knows how long I've worked here he bloody hired me! Rose decides to just go along with it, suss out what they are really up to.

"Umm…3 years…well…just over 3 years now I spose', why?"

"And you've been in Cardiff just over 4 years right?" he asks.

"Yes Rory. You know all of this, so what's with the 20 questions about my timeline?"

"I just, hmm…WE worry about you, ya know? We've known you for over 3 years now Rose and never seen you with a guy…or girl if that's what you're into. I mean, you are the only person I have EVER met that has turned Jack down. Not that I didn't laugh my arse off when you did, but still that just doesn't happen," he laughs remembering the look on Jacks face as Rose slapped him at the Holiday party right after she started working at H&W Coffee.

Rose places her hands on the table and begins to push herself up and away from this conversation. She rolls her eyes and releases a stream of air from her puffed up cheeks in an attempt to show she is not amused with the direction this conversation is going. She knows, of course she knows how long it's been since she had someone in her life. She glances at the clock, 12:17 pm. She starts calculating in her head and realizes that it has been roughly (okay, EXACTLY) 5 years, 11 days, 7 hours and 14 minutes since she had someone. Fuck that's sad. Both that she has been alone that long and that she can remember to the minute when her life turned to shit…complete and utter shit. Not that it had been great prior to that day…err…moment rather, but it was…manageable? No it wasn't even that. It was horrible, but that moment was the worst of the bad moments.

Rory places his hand above Rose's in a move meant to ask her to wait. She looks at him, his smile is genuine if a bit saccharine, bright blue eyes open and honest staring back at her with what she thinks is just a little too much pity. She hates that. Hates seeing that in her friends eyes, knows it's not the first time it's been there, worse, she knows it's not the last time it will be there.

"Look Rory, I appreciate the concern I really do" and she does she thinks honestly "but I'm alright." I'm always alright, she thinks to herself.

Rose turns to leave the table and Rory almost death grips her hand. She glances back at him in askance and he stands up, reaches for her and pulls her into himself wrapping his arms around her and placing her head on his chest. She starts giggling…actually giggling like a fucking teenager. Ugh…am I so attention deprived that even this…this, you're so pathetic Rose. Let me give you a platonic, sorry you suck so much friendly hug, gets a reaction? Yes, yes I am that pathetic and attention starved and…lonely.

"Rose," Amy says her name in a very delicate way.

Why is she saying my name like that? And why is Rory rubbing my back like that? In that way that parents try to soothe a small hysterical child, and why is my face all wet and why is there snot dripping from my nose and why am I moving and where am I moving to and, and, and…FUCK! WHAT the FUCK JUST HAPPENED?

"Rose, breathe Rose," Rory says, moving her to sit down on a crate in the back room and talking very quietly and very closely in her ear, "Head down Rose, between your knees and breathe slowly."

She can feel one of his hands on her back still doing that soothing, rubbing thing and the other on the back of her head keeping it between her knees. She's trying to take in air she really is, but her head hurts and her chest feels like there is a 500 pound gorilla on it and she's panting and gasping like a fucking fish out of water and tears are streaming down her face and she feels hot and sweaty and, and, and…OH! Clarity…she's having a panic attack…at work…in front of her boss/friend as well as her friend/co-worker and…her customers…customer…him…and in front of him. Well…maybe him. Maybe he left before it happened. Maybe he didn't see what a fucking mess she is. Maybe…but no…that's not how her life works.

He saw, he definitely saw and now not only has she embarrassed herself publicly, but she's certain any remaining customers (him) will not be coming in to get coffee from the fucking pathetic crazy chick at H&W Coffee again. Stupid, stupid, STUPID FUCKING ROSE BRAIN! Over and over in her head she hears it. It's not her voice, it's never her voice. It's always his voice, angry and snarling and …viscous and dripping with disgust at her. She knows she needs to get control of her spiraling thoughts, knows that he's not here, knows it's all in her head. He can't get here, can't be here, he's still locked up safe and sound in prison far, far away from her. Right? When was the last time she looked online to make sure he was still a registered inmate? But no, 12 years, he's supposed to be there for 12 years and it's only been…5 years, 11 days, 7 hours and 42 minutes.

Her breathing starts returning to normal with that thought. She remembers the parole hearing, remembers going and asking that he not be released early, remembers showing the board of people her scars and then the Barrister showing the pictures of that night. She remembers barely looking at him across from the table she was sitting at.

Him sneering at her, his lip curving in the way a rabid dog snarls at its prey,"5 years or 50 years Rose…doesn't matter you will always be mine."

So 7 more years…she has 7 more years. Her breathing has slowed, her chest hurts less, she's still crying though. As reality starts to reassert itself around her, Rose brings her head up to see Rory, Amy and Oh FUCK, yes and even Jack huddled around her. How long was she out of it? Long enough for Amy to call Jack and him to drive err…no wait road construction, walk here. She glances at her watch, 1:07 p.m. her work day is officially over.

She stands up, runs a hand through her hair and down her face to wipe away the tears and snot, looks to her friends, plasters on her smile and says," So…my shifts over…umm…see you all tomorrow," and tries to walk out of the store room. Hands, as in plural on her shoulders, preventing her escape; yeah she knew that wasn't gonna happen.

(Deep breath in, deep breath out) Rose turns slowly. That's the theme right now: SLOWLY. She looks to her friends/boss/co-workers and tries to smile. She knows it's weak, even to her it's weak and they are never going to buy it. Not after the ridiculous spectacle she just made of herself at her place of employment… in front of her/their customers (him). She decides to just get it over with. The inquisition will go faster if she doesn't fight it. Rose sits back down on the crate she just left and raises her head slowly to look up at her boss/co-workers/friends.

"Okay, so…yeah…that umm…well yeah that happened," Rose says nervously to her…people?

These people have too many boxes to fit into and she cannot pick or determine the appropriate one for them. It's confusing and frustrating. Rose likes boxes, neat lines, straight, orderly, obvious and to the point, organized and categorized and…now they are all staring at her. She thinks she'd rather they ogle her…ugh and her rampant fucked up brain has come full circle…complete 360 degrees…back to the beginning of this whole fucking nightmare. Well, she thinks at least there's that, full circle, cyclical, complete, a finished thought and bright side: it only took 2 hours and (glances at her watch) 7 minutes to complete said thought. Hmm…not exactly progress Rose she thinks to herself.

Jack is the first one to break the silence. He's a brave man that Jack Harkness. If some crazy bitch had a meltdown in my shop and on my dollar I'd just toss her ass out! No, no…I wouldn't do that would I? I would do exactly what these people have done and try to help even if I didn't understand; because I AM a good person and these people…they are good people too. So she will sit and answer as much as she can for her confused…people? Yes, people. For now that's what she's going with. She looks to Jack and realizes he has asked her something. Stupid, stupid, STUPID FUCKING ROSE BRAIN SHUT UP!

"Wha…what? Sorry Jack, umm…what?" Rose asks trying to make herself focus.

He laughs. A short snort, a chuckle and then, "Rosie, are you okay? And none of that I'm always alright shit that you give us, because you are OBVIOUSLY NOT alright," he states in his smooth American accent and even through his concern she can hear the honey like substance his voice drips with.

Jack is a wonderful man. He's funny and warm. Caring and compassionate. Sweet and…Sour...no wait that was dinner last night. FUCK! Focus Rose brain FUCKING FOCUS! They all seem so worried about her…it's…distracting. She looks at Jack, looks at his blue kinda violet eyes and goes to say that, no…no she's not okay and isn't that obvious, but instead what comes out is, "Umm…well…uh…Hey who's watching the store?"

"Clara" they all three reply in unison. Oh good lord, they pulled Clara from class.

"Oh, okay then. At least someone's out there to…umm…uh…helping the customers," Rose replies.

"You're stalling. Enough stalling Rose, what the hell just happened out there and in here?" says Amy.

"Panic attack," Rory states very sure of this knowledge and it's clear he's seen them before, knows what it was and he knew how to handle it.

"Uh…yeah," Rose says nodding her head up and down. Bad, bad idea, no head nodding right now, it's all pain and dizzy and bloody hell she's gonna hurl.

"Rose? You look…green. Maybe…umm…here's a bucket," Amy slides the bucket to Rose and she tries to smile in thanks but it's more of a weak grimace, she can feel it.

"Okay, yeah…umm…you all deserve an explanation for my..." Fit, temper tantrum, adolescent response to internal stimuli, STUPID FUCKING ROSE BRAIN!? She knows it the last one but instead goes with, "behavior and I'm sorry and it will NOT happen at work again and it was just…just…" Just what? What was it? "a rough day today and again I'm so sorry. I know it was unprofessional and it likely ran off the customers and I…"

"Rose! Just take a breath and explain what happened okay?" Amy demands.

She looks at Amy and sighs out, "Okay."

As she looks almost into the eyes of her…people, she decides it's probably time they knew. Time for them to know who she really is. That scares her because once they know who Rose Tyler really is, they won't be her people or friends/bosses/co-workers or any other box she wants to find for them, except the one box that is marked as gone.

"Umm…I don't…uh…I don't want to do this here. It's kinda a long story and not really work friendly topics," Rose states truthfully, "Can we go…umm…I don't know somewhere not work?"

As they all four shuffle out of the back room Clara gives Rose a small smile and goes back to making coffee for the customers…customer… Him. Yep still here then, so she has that going for her. Right then…no ogling and out the front door. She doesn't see him look at her, doesn't hear him ask Clara if she'll be okay, doesn't see him watching her through the window as she is being shuffled into Jacks ridiculously large S.U.V. and driven away.

January the 5th, 2014: 10:30a.m

Dr. Jonathon T. Ardis sits at his desk grading papers. His door, slightly cracked open allows him to hear Professor Renee Poisson coming into the larger room outside his office where the secretaries…no…administrative assistants (he's been corrected by Donna now, several times) have all of their desks. He hears her French accent, can't really make out what she's saying, but he can hear Donna reply that he is currently on a conference call and cannot be disturbed. Bless her he thinks. He does not want to try to fight off Renee…again. She's very…well…very what? Very forward? Yes. Very forward when it comes to her designs on him and he's not really ready for that. It's not that she is unattractive. In fact many of the professors and students are completely enthralled with her.

Renee is petite, blonde, crystal ice blue eyes, sweet melodious voice that speaks flawless French. She is after all a French Professor so he supposes that shouldn't be surprising to him. Then he realizes that right there is why he is not interested in her in a more romantically inclined way, as most of the others are. To him she is ordinary, plain, simple. He thinks most people would disagree with him. Most people would say and have said to him that he should feel flattered by her attentions. She is beautiful, intelligent, well composed and completely enamored with him. He hates that she calls him My Lonely Angel, what does that even mean? He hates that she paws at him and bats her long eyelashes and flutters her eyelids as she smiles demurely up at him. Actions he thinks that have other men falling over themselves around her.

He takes one look at her and knows, is 100% absolutely certain of the fact that there is nothing demure about Renee Poisson. And he thinks that's fine…for other blokes. To him it is all an act. A very well rehearsed play in which she is the damsel in distress and he's supposed to be some…what…Knight in Shining Armor…Romeo to her Juliette…Angel to her Buffy? He snickers at himself for that last one. He knows that she likely has no idea who those characters are. Jon can see behind her fake smiles and batty eyes and lashes. She is a snob and a pretentious one at that. He's heard her in her office complaining of the estate trash the University has allowed in on scholarship. How those kinds of people only bring down the University standing. That they never had any type of real schooling so it's like babysitting a bunch of untrained puppies that are always going to wee on the floor because they've been raised that way. Mongrels she called them and looked to him with her sweet smile and batty eyes and lashes in that "don't you agree Jon" look.

No…no he doesn't agree. He believes these kids from the estate bring character and individuality to the University. A different approach to lessons and class discussions and he rather enjoys teaching them. They had to work hard to get here, prove they could handle the rigorous academics and unlike the well off kids, have to maintain doing well or risk losing the scholarship that they worked so hard for. He rather likes that they are here because they want to be and because they worked for it instead of Mummy and Daddy paying for everything. So…no, he definitely disagrees with her…on most everything really. Yet she is persistent in her chase of him and he cannot understand why.

Jon hears Renee give her little whine that he's always busy and then hears her office door close, harder and louder than is necessary he thinks. He decides now is a good time for coffee. He has stacks of papers to grade and a class at 3:00 p.m. to teach, but its only 10:30a.m. and he needs coffee. Well…he always needs coffee because he doesn't really sleep. His love of coffee is why his best mate Jack opened a coffee shop. Okay maybe not entirely, but he likes to believe it's the larger reason. Sticking his head out of the office slightly he sees Donna turn and grin at him. She gives him the thumbs up that the coast is clear and he quickly scoots by her desk to the hallway.

"Bring me a coffee back Spaceman," Donna says as he's making his getaway from the University…okay not really the University…just Renee.

Jon was the very first customer at H&W Coffee. Granted, the fact that the part owner is his best mate of 15 years is likely the reason he goes so far out of his way for coffee, but it is really good coffee. Also, there's that girl…girl? "Woman" he can hear Donna's voice clear as day in his head saying it and can almost feel the slap to the back of his head for not saying it right. He really is trying to do better with all of the new political correctness going on these days. He just forgets sometimes, but he REALLY is trying.

He thinks about the young blonde who works for Jack. She's been there several years now, seems reliable, responsible. She's great with the customers and knows the store better than either Jack or Rory; which is why she's the manager now he assumes. He knows her name is Rose, knows that Jack, Rory and Amy all adore her, knows that she makes the best tea he's ever had and that she is polite and sweet if not a little hesitant and shy around men; all men he's noticed. She doesn't really make eye contact. She gives the illusion of eye contact but he can tell. She's always looking just off to the left when helping male customers, him included. He comes into the store with a flurry of wind and rain at his back. The door closes behind him and he stands there shaking off the water in what he can only imagine looks like a wet dog coming in from a…a what…river, lake, stream, bath? Bath…lets go with that…at least that means he's clean. Jon runs his hands through his hair flinging water everywhere. He knows his hair must be a riot now, worse than normal, but he just can't find it in himself to care. He's cold, wet and in desperate need of caffeine.

Jon decides he's going to have to talk to Jack about that electrical feeling…again. Maybe it's the lights or…well he doesn't know, but Jack should really fix it. He finds an open spot near the window (he likes people watching) and places his bag in the seat, then makes his way to the counter. Rose stands there looking out the window, clearly lost in her thoughts and doesn't notice him (that's new, she always notices customers). As politely as possible he clears his throat and her face snaps to his. In the 3 years that she's worked here she has waited on his numerous times. Well…he thinks numerous, but really it's only been the last year that he's been in with any consistency. Prior to that he was traveling, had been for a long while. Donna finally convinced him to stay stationary for a bit. "Not forever Jon, but just try for us, for a little while please. We miss you here." So that brings us back to now and her and her face actually looking at his face.

He thinks he's never actually seen her eyes before. He's sure of it actually, because if he'd seen that color before…it wouldn't be shocking now. She smiles up at him and for a moment it's real. For a mere second it's a very real smile. Real smiling and eye contact…both new he thinks to himself…new and…pleasant?

He orders his coffee, "Black and don't bother with those little packets of sugar."

"Yeah, I know," she says, "You need the jar and even then three cups in it will need to be filled."

She laughs after that, a cute, short, timid little noise and he smiles back at her. He sees her see him and she lowers her gaze…just a bit. She's so good at it that other people probably don't notice the move, but he does. Jon sees her body tense almost imperceptibly, sees her eyes shift just a fraction to the left as she rings him up on the register.

"£1.60," she says still smiling.

That smile…it's not quite fake…but not quite real either and he wants to know why. What changed in that fraction of a second? But he doesn't ask, just hands her the correct amount. He always has the correct amount. Jon's pretty sure she still doesn't know about his relationship with Jack. He thinks she mustn't because she's the only one to ever charge him for his drinks. She hands him his coffee and the jar of sugar and he walks back over to his spot in front of the window. He takes out his laptop and starts going over his lecture for later. Glancing at the bottom of his screen he sees that its 10:54a.m, still plenty of time to avoid the office (Renee). Then he feels it again, that electrical…thing, but stronger this time than any previous time he's felt it. It's like a gentle electrical current traveling along his spine in both directions. He thinks of the phrase 'Someone walking over your grave' but that doesn't feel right to explain this sensation. That seems like a bad thing and this…whatever this is…is a decidedly not bad thing.

Jon knows he's being watched. He can feel the little hairs on his neck standing at attention from the…err…attention. He stretches trying to covertly spy whoever is watching him. It's her, the blonde gir…err woman…err Rose, it's Rose. She's staring…at him, that's definitely new. She doesn't notice him noticing her noticing him. Is that right? Does that make sense? Well I'm only talking to me and I know what I mean so…yes it makes sense…to me at least. Fuck…why am I so weird? Normally this would bother him, being stared at like this, but he doesn't think she realizes she's doing it and that…well that's rather cute and…and what? Flattering? Yep…he's going with that because with her staring at him, all his breath has left his body and his brain can't seem to come up with anything else and that electrical feeling is increasing throughout his body.

Amy walks up to her and says, "I am fairly certain your sly ogling has turned to obvious staring Rose."

Bugger, shit, fuck, ass, head and hole! Why did she do that!? Oh…but wait, did she say ogling? Ogling implies looking and not out the window. People do not ogle windows…right? Do they? No, the teasing in Amy's voice suggests she was definitely ogling him. That's…well that's…FUCKING BRILLIANT…yep Molto Bene, lovely, wonderful! Wait now what's happening? No Amy…don't…don't do that, he thinks. She's leading Rose away from the register to a table and putting her in a chair next to Rory. Well that's okay, that's fine he can still see…well no he can't because Amy has parked her arse right in his line of vision to Rose. FUCK! He thinks that most men would be okay with the view Amy has given him, but he also thinks he's not most men. He's weird and off putting, clumsy around gir…err women. Babbling nonsense pours forth from his mouth in most social situations, though he is friendly, at least he thinks so; Jack tells him he is anyway and outgoing. Does Rose like outgoing people? He thinks she must if she is friends with Jack, Rory and Amy.

He knows them all well and they are all pretty outgoing friendly people…well…Amy does have her rather scary moments. His eyes shift back over to the table where Amy is blocking his view and he sees her get up to tend the register. Jon sees Rory is talking with Rose and she does not look pleased with the conversation. Annoyed…perturbed…perplexed, ooh good word that. He's going with perplexed as he can see a slight amusement when she looks to Rory to answer him. Jon's vision darts to Amy at the register and yep…bugger he's been caught staring. Amy gives him a wicked smile and raises her eyebrows at him, waggling them at him like she knows…he's not sure what she knows, but it's definitely something. Then he hears a giggling? Well…kind of a giggling mixed in with a choked sob kind of noise and his vision shifts back to the table with Rory and Rose. He's not sure what he missed in the moments that Amy was waggling her brows at him but it was clearly important.

Rory is now hugging Rose as she sobs and gasps into his chest. No…no…no…no…that should never happen. That should not be a noise that comes from her...ever. Jon begins to stand, he wants to go over and see if she's okay. He needs to ask what happened in the seconds he was looking at Amy, but he sees Rory leading her away and Amy on the phone. Jack shows up rather quickly and Clara is only a few minutes behind him. He doesn't go to Jack when he comes in because he is immediately behind the register taking care of customers as Amy rushes off to the back room. Clara comes in next and is immediately taking over for Jack behind the counter. Jack looks over at him, smiles and starts to walk over.

"Jack, what's going on? I thought you had meetings all day?" Jon asks curiously.

"Yeah I do, but something came up here," Jack says in a rushed voice, "Look, I need to go handle some stuff but I'll uh…I'll see you at home later tonight OK?"

"Yeah, yeah…that's fine. Go do…whatever it is you need to do," Jon says waving his friend off.

Jack's already through the door to the back room and it's closing behind him before Jon has finished his reply. Jon thinks he'll stay, at least for a while. He doesn't have to be back in the office for an hour and he is rather worried about Rose. He's not sure what happened and it's confusing because she was fine just seconds before that. That sound she made…that giggling, choking, gasping, sobbing sound is ricocheting through his head on repeat and it's…it's… just fucking heartbreaking…that is confusing. He doesn't know her, not really. He knows what his friends have said about her, limited as it may be. He knows his observations of her from the store. Those are less limited…he knows he observes her quite a bit. He knows the assumptions he has about her…this though…this…thing that just happened and his reaction to it…he doesn't know that.

Jon goes to the counter to get another cup of coffee from Clara. His third since Rose was whisked away to the back room and decides to just ask, "So uh…Clara, what's up with the secret meeting in the back room?"

"No clue Jon. You watched me come in, did you see anyone give me any information?" is her very flat, succinct response and he knows that, he did see it, but he was hoping she had an idea of what just happened.

He gets his coffee and as he's preparing to walk back to his spot in front of the window, they all pile out of the back room. Jack, Rory and Amy are all huddled around Rose in what he perceives as a very protective manner…especially Jack. Has he ever seen that look on Jack before? No he doesn't think he has, so that's new too. He sees Rose glance in his direction and she immediately drops her eyes and walks faster out of the front door and into Jacks S.U.V. A stray thought for how Jack got his car here with the construction floats through, but he just dismisses it as Jack…he just does things like that. Clara gives him no information…zip, zed, zilch and whatever other words start with Z but mean none. He gathers his laptop in his bag and heads back to the office. He has a class at 3:00p.m. and he needs to print off…oh he doesn't know what he needs to print but Donna will. So…bag across his shoulders he heads out in the rain and back to work. Halfway there he remembers he forgot Donna's coffee "Bugger, she will not be happy about that."