A/N This AU adaption is based off the Hitchcock film "Marnie." But there will be various deviations, and prior knowledge is not needed to follow along. Just trust me when I say Ten & Rose are delicious in the roles. ;)

In my mind this takes place in an alternate reality where many of the same DW characters exist (albeit at a different point in time for some) but whose lives have taken a different path, including the Doctor's counterpart, John Smith. With that in mind, enjoy!

Prologue

Harold Saxon was enraged. He was not a man to be double-crossed, yet a brazen young con woman had done just that. She had strolled into his office, used his lecherous disposition to her advantage by landing a position based on little more than sex appeal, and when his guard was down, had gained access to his personal strongbox and walked off with a sizable chunk of change. His chunk of change.

She was going to pay for this. He would revel in delivering his own personal brand of retribution if he ever got his hands on her again.

"I want her perfect little arse thrown in prison!" the victimized businessman raged to the police investigators on the scene. "If she hasn't been found and arrested before the day is through, I'll have every last one in your department investigated for incompetence!" Saxon stalked back and forth in his posh Southampton office, slamming a fist down on his mahogany desk as he continued his rant. "If that lying tart thinks she can do something like this to me without living to regret it, then she is very much mistaken. I know it was her. That Andrea Prentice, as she called herself. Always the women," he groused, dropping down into his leather armchair.

"Can you give us a description, Mister Saxon?" the middle-aged Detective Inspector asked evenly, nodding to his Sergeant to jot down the specifics.

Saxon gazed off in lustful recollection. "She has lush dark hair, alluring caramel eyes, long, shapely legs, and those lips of hers…"

The two detectives exchanged a knowing smirk. "And she's been an administrative assistant here for the past two months?"

Saxon straightened in his chair, refocusing. "Yes, that's right. During which time I've demonstrated the utmost…fondness for her. As any good employer would, of course. And to make her feel even more at ease here, to show her she was welcome in my personal sanctum at any time, I gave her a key to this office just yesterday. And what do I get out of her in return? This. I assure you this was not what I had in mind when extending that particular liberty."

"I'm quite sure," the DI's dry voice responded.

Lucy, Saxon's wife and private secretary, entered the room then, eyeing the scene with mild curiosity as she swayed forward in a form-fitting red dress. Harry beckoned her to his side, his arm outstretched and a look of exaggerated despondency on his face. "Ah, Lucy…the most faithful and dedicated of all my personnel. I shouldn't have tried to supplement some of your…duties with that of an untrustworthy woman." He slung his arm around her hip, pulling her to him, his words low and almost threatening. "You would never betray me."

"Of course not," Lucy answered, her voice dull and smile mechanical.

"What were the woman's references?" the young Sergeant cut in.

Saxon cleared his throat, casting about for an answer. "Well…they were…"

"Don't you remember, Harry?" his wife interjected, toneless. "She had none when you hired her on the spot."

The DI raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Doesn't your tax firm handle records of the sensitive nature?"

Saxon waved a hand, a subtle smirk forming. "Ah, well…her duties were to be of the…unofficial variety. In which case her qualifications were more than adequate."

"I see."

Saxon's attention then shifted to a man just outside the doorway. "Ah, Dr. Smith!" He stood, shrugging off his wife. "I wasn't expecting you until later today. Can you believe this injustice? I've been robbed! Me. Nearly twenty thousand pounds."

Dr. John Smith ambled into the office, hands pocketed within brown pinstriped trousers. "By the attractive female you were just discussing, lacking in references but little else?"

"That's the one," Harry seethed. "Andrea Prentice. You saw her once yourself. I pointed her out the last time you were in, actually. As I recall you gave her a rather long assessment..."

Dr. Smith gazed upward in thought, tongue pressed behind his teeth. "Ahhh, yes. That one. The brunette with the…," he cleared his throat, "…pleasing anatomical attributes."

"Excuse me. And you are?" the DI questioned.

"John Smith. My corporation is a client of Mister Saxon's consulting firm." He looked back to Saxon, fighting a smirk at the man's expense. "But I think I'd better come back at another time to discuss business, considering the dire circumstances here."

"I intend to have that little charlatan locked away for years," Saxon vowed. "I should have known she was too good to be true. Hard worker, willing to put in overtime, always smiling that smile of hers. And yet…always crossing her ankles and pulling her skirt down as if protecting the Crown Jewels." His jaw tightened. "It was all just a wicked game. She was so…so…"

John Smith arched a brow. "Clever?"

Saxon growled, sinking back down in his chair.

Dr. Smith excused himself from the offices of Saxon & Company, his mind pondering this turn of events. None of this was really his concern, yet his interest was piqued. Anyone who had the audacity to cross Harold Saxon must have nerves of steel. Or a death wish.

Simply put, Saxon was a sleaze. John disliked associating with him, but the man knew his business when it came to tax consulting. As of late, John had to ensure that every aspect of his corporation had each I dotted and every T crossed. TARDIS Corporation, an emerging leader in the field of technological advancement, had come under investigation a few years back due to safety concerns and allegations of conducting hazardous experimentations. The last thing he needed was to fall under the scrutiny of HM Revenue and Customs. If that meant dealing with the devil on occasion, so be it.

Stepping through Saxon's doors certainly made for an interesting experience today, if nothing else. He wouldn't mind being a detective right about now, the scientist thought. He quite fancied learning more about this Miss Prentice himself, his inquisitive nature now roused. She was as beautiful as she was cunning, apparently. Alluring yet dangerous, he mused. Like a rose with thorns.

-:-:-:-

Rose Tyler packed her bags with practiced haste, preparing to depart her Southampton hotel. She'd not given out this address during her two months here, but she wasn't taking any chances by sticking around longer than necessary. Packing wouldn't take long, since she planned to discard her old wardrobe in order to play it safe. She could certainly afford to buy an all new one.

Turning her attention to her purse, she tucked away Andrea Prentice's ID cards for later disposal and placed her own back in her wallet. Time for another new identity. She would have to give thought to another name. Growing up on a council estate had few perks, but it did have some. Luckily she knew the sort who could set her up with fraudulent IDs for a price. So far the arrangement was working rather well for all concerned.

The packing complete, she went to the en-suite to transform her chestnut-dyed hair back to blonde, though perhaps a few shades lighter than her natural honey tone for her next…business venture.

She was already contemplating what and where her next similar job might be. At twenty-two, Rose had been at this "profession" for nearly two years now. It might not be the way she would have pictured her adult life shaping up. But then, she'd never really pictured her future anyway. She had few aspirations and even fewer options. This, however, actually made her a success at something.

She was patient and attentive in her craft, biding her time for the right opportunity and allowing no detail to escape her notice. In doing so, she had learned where in Saxon's office the key to his strongbox was kept. She had learned that the key to the inner office itself, however, was kept on Saxon's person. She wasn't going anywhere near that, regardless of the payoff. As it turned out, she hadn't needed to. He had been unwittingly accommodating in that regard.

It wasn't as if she was really harming anyone in all this, she told herself. Men like Harold Saxon had money to burn. And she no doubt could have negotiated for the key to his office and his strongbox had she rolled over and opened her legs for him as he would have liked. Men like that, all too common in her experience, deserved to part with a few pounds simply for their treatment of women.

But enough thoughts of Saxon and all those like him. For now, at least. Before transforming her identity for her next undertaking, it was time to be Rose Tyler again, just for a bit. She had the means to pay her mum a visit without feeling like little more than a disappointment. She'd acquired nearly twenty thousand pounds this go-round. It might not buy her the Koh-I-Noor, but she could certainly get her mum an impressive trinket or two. Maybe this time Rose could actually find favor in the eyes of Jackie Tyler. Bought approval was better than none at all. Love, on the other hand, was something that likely couldn't be attained with all the money in the world.

Rose steeled herself against such thoughts. She didn't need love. Not from her mum. Not from anyone. All that Rose needed she could obtain for herself, the means notwithstanding.