A/N: I am so, so sorry about the wait; that just goes to show that when I set deadlines for myself, I never end up meeting them. I'll try to do a better job this time, but I'm not going to make any promises, as these next two months are going to be very busy for me.

Thank you very much to Snush, Weeping Angel of Fear, ElementalFoxGoddess, Abri/StormagedonDarkLordofAll, Feirce Deity girl, and Raven Jadewolfe for reviewing; I was stunned at the amount of feedback for the last chapter, and receiving reviews inspired me to get writing even though I hit a bit of a blockade. So the more reviews I get, the quicker the update is likely to be.

This chapter is a bit of a filler, but I set some things up that really needed to be done; hopefully it isn't completely boring. It's also unbetaed (like the ones before it), but I only point this out because I seem to have gotten myself a beta. I just wanted to get this up as soon as possible, so I didn't send it off. I'll also probably be making a couple of alterations to the older chapters to make them flow better, but I won't be making any changes to the plot so there'll be no need for you to go back and read the revised chapters (unless you really want to).

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

0000

A decision was made about what to do with one Rose Smith two months after Wells and Easley brought the anomaly back to Headquarters. The higher ups were a bit disappointed with the results of the mission ("What good is a meek little girl born in the nineteenth century?" one commander questioned as he blew on a cigar. "Just because she's got some artron energy in her doesn't mean she'll be any good in the field."), but Captain Wells had been able to talk them into allowing her to be trained as a normal field operative when the program restarted itself. They agreed on the condition that he would stay at the base oversee her progress himself.

So in the end, he had to sacrifice a bit, but he felt like it'd be a good decision in the long run.

He wasn't completely wrong.

During those two months of waiting, Rose was transported to a training base on the dwarf planet of Ceres, located in the asteroid belt. It was a strange little planet, its crust thin and veiling a vast ocean and under that, a dense, rocky core. The base was located on the thickest part of the outer layer, contained in a large dome that held in an artificial atmosphere that made the conditions on the icy planet livable.

The base itself was left over from a group of colonists involved in the Great Breakout of 5080, where human expansion was at its peak. Though the date wasn't that long ago, the pioneers had sold the building to the Time Agency for a large sum of money, and this allowed them to make their first extraterrestrial base. It turned out to be a good call on the Agency's part.

Rose was content there. Just in case they would allow her to train, she began to make use of the empty gyms and rec rooms, becoming more fit and familiarizing herself with the fads and cultural norms of the period. It was all very new and exciting, and (in Rose's opinion) involved too much sex.

But she was just a shop girl born in the nineteenth century; why would anyone care about what she had to say?

0000

"Settling in well?"

The voice came from the doorway of her bland, cramped bunkroom, and Rose turned to look for the source of the voice. The man was impossible to miss‐‐he was a wall of muscle in a Captain's uniform, imposing and somehow comforting. Curly brown hair was kept closely cropped on his large head, cut just so it was under the level of what the woman would consider bushy. His voice was quiet, as if muffled by the thick carpet of a moustache that sat on his upper lip, and it was one that Rose had committed to memory.

With a small smile, Rose tucked a stray piece of dyed blonde hair behind her ear and replied, "All right; I'm quite experienced with moving from place to place, so I'm sure that I'll be settled in no time."

Captain Wells may have smiled at her, but whatever lip movement occurred under that ridiculous moustache of his was covered. "I'm glad to hear that, Private. If you need anything, ask Quint, and he'll be sure to find me."

Rose took in the friendly request with a nod. Though Mr. Quint had told her at first that the Captain didn't speak very often, it turned out that Wells could communicate just as well as anyone else when he wasn't on a mission; he didn't like the way some other Time Agents dealt with things, and he was almost too careful in trying not to be like them. Rose didn't think he really had anything to worry about there, as he'd been a good friend to her during these two boring months on the base.

Finally, she seemed to notice the title that Wells had added at the end of the first sentence. Perking up instantly, Rose questioned, "'Private'? They're letting me in?"

After clearing his throat, she was sure that the Captain actually did smile. "They've finally allowed you to join up," he clarified, "and just in time for the beginning of a new session of basic training tomorrow too. That's why we had you moved into this smaller bunkroom: only one other female enlisted and was accepted, so you two don't really need that big of an area. She should be joining you shortly." It was only then that Wells began to look a bit awkward, and he tugged on the stiff collar of his uniform. "She'll also be serving as your battle buddy."

The woman raised her eyebrows and leaned back a bit on her bed. "What the hell is a battle buddy? It sounds like something off of a kids' show."

"Erm." He scratched the back of his neck and shifted his weight between both feet. "Did you read the manual I gave you?"

"Course I did," Rose responded, "but there was nothing about this in there."

The Captain's nostrils flared with his sigh, and he explained, "Battle buddies are people that the Agency put together to help with the transition from civilian to agent. They use each other for all sorts of things: running training exercises, as a friend, for sex, and once you're in the field, you're usually partnered up. The program is meant to help the drill sergeants with scheduling, and it helps keep depression and suicide levels down."

There was a long silence as Rose thought this over. After what seemed to be hours, Rose questioned incredulously, "Did you say something about sex? Because I'm sorry to whoever gets stuck with me, but I'm straight and I don't see that changing in the foreseeable future. And even if I got partnered with a male," she continued, huffing a bit, "you couldn't have expected me to just jump into bed with him! I'm not that sort of a person, no matter what's socially acceptable nowadays."

"You've seen that we here in the 51st century are much looser in the sexual sense," Wells ventured timidly, as if he were afraid that the much smaller woman (with no training whatsoever) was going to roll up the thick training manual that was resting on the small table next to her bed and smack him with it. "New recruits in the Agency are usually used to being with one or more people at a time, and at first they almost went into withdrawal from the lack of sex, as it's banned at the time when you're doing basic training. So, they came up with the Battle Buddy system, using an old American method as a model. That's where the name came from too, so don't blame the Agency; blame the Americans."

Rose chuckled a bit before asking, "So can I not sleep with her? Because I'm not a 51st century local, and therefore not ruled by my sex drive."

"You'll have to take it up with her," the Captain replied, "but if a large problem arises, just talk to me and I'll try to do something." It's not like I've already done a lot for this girl, he noted mentally, sarcasm coloring the thought.

That answer was enough for Rose. She nodded, and before Wells could leave, she spoke. "Thanks. I mean, for getting me into the Agency an' all. It must've been a hassle for you."

Another smile peeked out from under the caterpillar on his face. "It was my pleasure. I'll be seeing you in the morning, Private Smith." With that, he turned from his position leaning against the doorway of the small bunkroom and headed out into the hall.

0000

"Shit!"

The exclamation was sharp and full of annoyance, uttered right outside of the bunkroom, and it had followed a large crash. Rose winced and put down the book on temporal physics that Wells had thought to bring her, unsure of exactly what to do. As the voice coming from the other side of the door was female, Rose could assume that she was about to meet her new roommate.

Instead of leaving her "battle buddy" to clean up the mess (because with a crash that loud, the damage had to be rather massive) herself, the woman figured that she should do the right thing and assist the person she was to spend the coming months with. Getting up off the bed, Rose walked across the room, the hems of her jeans dragging on the concrete floor as she moved towards the door.

What was on the other side couldn't exactly be described as expected. Blinking hard, Rose took a step back and assessed the situation: a young woman in tight red pants and black stiletto heels was on the ground, gathering up various bits and bobs that had fallen out of her handbag when it crashed against the floor. From what Rose could tell, the loud crash had been a bottle of champagne that had been crammed into the golden bag, and now the expensive looking thing was covering in the stuff. But that wasn't really what caught Rose off guard.

The woman was completely naked from the top up.

A bright yellow tank top was tossed on top of a large suitcase, so it wasn't like she didn't have a shirt to put on. A white lacy bra could also be spotted about ten feet down the hall, as if someone had tossed it aside like they were trying to skip a flat rock on a lake. As the older woman tried to make sense of what was going on, something else moved out of the corner of her eye: a man in his late twenties was backed up against the wall near the door, also shirtless, and was struggling to button his pants. He was having trouble with the zipper because… well.

"Oh!" Rose's new roommate exclaimed, noticing the newcomer in the doorway for the first time. "You must be my battle buddy!"

"Yeah," the woman affirmed with a smile, trying not to show her aversion towards the situation that she found herself in. "M' name's Ro‐‐"

Her words were cut off when a pair of dark red lips crashed into hers, demanding attention. Rose went rigid, and after a moment, the other woman pulled back, looking a bit sheepish. "Whoops; they did tell me that you weren't from around here. Anyway," she continued, turning around to strut over to her bra and clip it on, "I'm Chartreuse Bixby, Char for short, and it's a pleasure to meet you!"

"Yeah," Rose said faintly. It took her a moment to realize that she was staring as her roommate pulled on her shirt. The older woman blinked once, hard, before remembering that she still hadn't introduced herself. "I'm Rose Smith. And I don't mean to be rude, but please don't do that again."

Char smiled softly as she secured the hem of her tank top over her midriff. "Don't worry; I won't get too handsy," she assured Rose, a laugh in her voice. "Just avoid me when I'm drunk and we should be fine."

She crouched down to continue cleaning up the shattered mess of the champagne bottle while whoever she'd been about to take against the wall scampered away. This was when Rose broke out of her trance. "Oh! Let me help you with that."

"Thanks, hun," she said, relief evident in her tone. Rose crouched down next to her, picking up shards of glass with nimble fingers. "So where are you from?" Char asked, making an effort to continue the conversation, for which Rose was grateful.

"Earth," she replied, and was about to reiterate the question when Char interrupted.

"Really?" she questioned incredulously. "I didn't think people we making voyages to Earth much anymore, with the New Ice Age that's going on."

That doesn't sound very pleasant, Rose thought, frowning a bit. "Actually, I'm not really from this time period. I come from 21st century Earth."

Something that resembled a squeal came from the other woman's throat, and Rose pulled back a second to look at her new roommate in confusion. "That's so interesting!" the younger woman exclaimed. "You'll have to tell me all about it!"

Great, Rose thought sardonically. Just as long as you don't try to sleep with me.

0000

"Hey, Private!"

Rose turned to see a grinning Quint bounding up to her like an excited puppy. She hadn't known that the man was on the base, so it was a great surprise. "I heard Captain Wells managed to get you a spot in basic training."

"That he did," Rose confirmed as the Time Agent wrapped her in a hug. "I'm just heading back from the first bout of physical training of the day." This was evident by her sweat streaked tank top, she was sure.

"Keeping up?" the man asked as he released her from his embrace, casually tossing an arm around her shoulder and began rubbing circles into the base of her shoulder with his thumb. Rose tensed; even though she'd been living in a looser society, some of the binds of Victorian London still remained. The woman doubted she'd ever be rid of them, but she figured that she'd have to learn to live in this sexualized period eventually.

Biting down on her discomfort, Rose responded, "Yes, actually; I made good use of the gym before I was even sure they'd let me in, so I'm in the best shape that I've ever been in. The only problem is that the drill sergeant is a bit terrifying, but I'm sure I'll get used to it."

"Yeah, you'll have to," Quint said, a serious note in his voice. "Look, Rose, I'm only passing through the base on my way back to Earth, but while I'm here I'm going to give you a bit of advice: don't travel the halls alone like you just were. Keep your 'battle buddy' with you, and if that fails, call Wells down. Training's just starting, and they haven't weeded out the incompetent assholes, so some of these new trainees wouldn't hesitate to corner you in an empty hallway and stick his dick in ya. You following?" After her nod, the Agent continued, "People from this century are mostly sex driven beasts. Hell, I'm a sex driven beast, but I'm also a gentleman. Others aren't so nice. So be careful, Rose, and don't take this personally," he added hastily. "It's not that you're weak; it's that they're hormone driven douchebags. 'Kay?" Quint finally released her with a grin, and he clapped her shoulder without waiting for a response his companion. "Now come on; breakfast is calling my name."

Rose practically had to jog to keep up with the tall man's long stride. He was chattering to her about his last mission (something about he and about fifteen others ending up cornered by hostile aliens while naked, no less), but the woman's mind was elsewhere. It was the first time she'd thought of Jimmy Stone in years, and it made her feel uneasy; she was so determined to put her past behind her, and yet one mention of sexual abuse and he was back into the forefront of her thoughts.

Shaking her head slightly, she expelled all traces of him from her conscious mind. Rose had more important thing to worry about than a violent egomaniac. And anyway, he was long dead.

The air in the mess hall was tense, to say the least. Something must have happened, Rose realized, but nothing incredibly threatening, as a mauve alert hadn't been issued. As she looked for her usual meal partner, Quint drug her to the other end of the mess to get food, and then to the table where the exact man that Rose had been looking for minutes before was seated.

Wells was in a stormy mood; that much was evident from just one look. Somehow, no one else in their group seemed to notice except for Quint, who was eyeing his friend from across the table, where he sat with a fellow Corporal. Frowning slightly, Rose leaned closer to the burly captain, deciding that talking to him was more important than eating the food that was in front of her.

"What's wrong?" she asked in an undertone, trying not to attract the attention of anyone else surrounding them.

Wells shifted his shoulders in a strained shrug as he stared down into his mug of black coffee. "You should eat."

Rose shook her head. "There's something bothering you, and I'd like to help, if I can."

With a small sigh, the Captain turned a bit towards the girl that had somehow become his responsibility (even though she was decades older than him, and he'd taken to constantly reminding himself that even though she didn't look a day over twenty-five) and muttered, "I had to help with a retcon last night; it wasn't pretty."

The private paled, biting her lip and looking down at the table. Retconning was horrible in her opinion; she couldn't imagine what it would be like to forget anything that she went through, even the horrible things that still gave her nightmares sometimes. "How many years did he lose?" Rose asked, twining her fingers in her lap nervously before asking another question. "Did I know him?"

"Two," Wells said quietly, lips barely moving. "Only two, but that's enough to have a huge effect on a person. He was a superior officer to me, and what he did I can't disclose, but I really don't think that an offence like it was worth such a strong retcon. And no," he continued, answering Rose's second question, "you didn't know him; you probably haven't even seen him before, as he's been out of the base for a while. He only came back last night, already knocked out and brought to a cell without anyone seeing."

Rose felt almost guilty for the sense of relief that filled her when she was told that she had no connection to this undisclosed man. "So what's going to happen to him?" she asked as she reached over to grab her small bottle of milk. The Private took a sip, the coolness of the drink soothing her parched throat.

"He'll be taken back to his home planet," the Captain explained. "The last thing he'll remember is that he got stuck in a time loop with his partner. He'll be disoriented at first; a Time Agency rep will be with him, and they'll tell him that two years have passed and that he's being released from the Time Agency."

"That's horrible," Rose said, dread knotting in her stomach. "I almost can't imagine a worse fate, being near the top and then being booted out like it was nothing, and two years of your life gone on top of that."

A rough sounding chuckle rumbled deep in Wells' chest, and he slipped a flask from his belt and took a large swig of what Rose assumed was hypervodka. "Oh, Private," he sighed, "for someone so old, you really don't know a thing about tragedy."

"Excuse me?" Rose squeaked indignantly, tensing. "Listen here, mate, I've done things and experienced things that you couldn't even imagine!"

"I never said that you haven't," the captain muttered, seemingly regretting his words. "But believe me when I say this‐‐ there's a lot worse things than being retconned."

Suddenly, Rose had enough of the conversation. Shooting out of her seat, the trainee grabbed a banana off of her tray. "I'm going to hit the showers before the next bout of training begins," she called behind her as she left the mess hall in the dust.