AN: If you haven't read the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy I sincerely wish that you rectify that immediately. LOVE LOVE LOVE DOUGLAS ADAMS AND HIS BOOK(S). I couldn't resist using the Improbability Drive to improbably put the Doctor and Rose Tyler back together.
A lot of the opening paragraphs is verbatim from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (1st book) and belong to Douglas Adams. I used the creative license to just make things even more improbable. Also, if you haven't read that then you probably shouldn't read this.

The Heart of Gold opened a hole in the Galaxy, exactly a nothingth of a second long, a nothingth of an inch wide, and quite a lot of millions of light years from end to end. The nothingth of a second for which the hole existed reverberated backward and forward through time in a most improbable fashion. Five wild Event Maelstroms swirled in vicious storms of unreason and spewed up a pavement.

On the pavement lay Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent gulping like half spent fish. Just behind them laid one Rose Tyler—also gulping like a half spent fish, but for an entirely different reason than the two men just ahead of her. This revealed that the Heart of Gold could in fact open a hole exactly a nothingth of a second long, a nothingth of an inch wide, and quite a lot of millions of light years from end to end in parallel versions of the Galaxy as well. Quite improbable, and the ship was quite proud of itself.

Ford and Arthur got their bearings much faster than Rose did. Then again, Ford Prefect had all he needed in the universe to get along: his trusty towel and his invaluable copy of the Guide. Arthur was still quite upset over the sudden destruction of his house, then his Earth, and finally the relative sanity he'd managed to find on the Vogon ship, and what with nearly dying once he and Ford had been shunted out of an air lock into open space to die… it was safe to say that nothing would quite be reaching Arthur for a while yet.

Rose ignored the men as she sat up behind them, and then stood. Ford barely acknowledged her, the two much more interested in seeing Southend. She saw it too, of course, but she hardly cared about that. Of all the things that could surprise Rose Tyler it was not going to be the sight of Southend after being kidnapped—even if it was a Southend that had a steady sea and buildings washing up and down.

They plunged through heavy walls of sound, mountains of archaic thought, valleys of mood music, ad shoe sessions and footling bats and suddenly heard a girl's voice.

"Two to the power of one hundred thousand to one against and falling," the girl said.

Rose was comforted by how sensible the disembodied voice was, but one of the men in front of her appeared to be even more displeased and skidded down a beam of light and spun round trying to find a source for it. The thing that struck her to be extremely odd, though, was how improbable that such an odd was to actually happen.

One man explained to the other man about the voice talking about probability, and then to be more specific, improbable probability. Rose had already gotten that far herself, but the fact that one of them appeared to be turning into a penguin and the other was beginning to lose his limbs distracted her from many other thoughts.

"Ford," the brown haired quite normal looking one said, "you're turning into a penguin. Stop it."

Rose was happy to see that the normal looking guy agreed with her, even if this Ford did make a rather adorable penguin. The voice came on once more, spewing out another seemingly random number of probabilities to one and falling, which was just slightly smaller than the previous number, and Ford found himself a nice pond to waddle around in an agitated manner.

The brunet bloke regained his limbs just as the voice actually deigned to respond to the irritated penguin squawking at it. Rose realized with some alarm that her hair had all fallen off and her tongue had floated right out of her mouth and appeared to be trying to thumb wrestle with her fallen hair. She was half of the mind to give it quite a severe verbal lashing, but that would be rather pointless as it wouldn't be able to understand her because she needed it to speak.

"Please do not be alarmed," the voice said as Rose's hair wrapped itself around her neck like a scarf, "by anything you see or hear around you. You are bound to feel some initial ill effects as two of you have been rescued from certain death at an improbability level of two to the power of two hundred and seventy six thousand to one against—possibly much higher; the other has been rescued from certain death in a parallel universe at an improbability just slightly higher than your own, so congratulations to her. We are now cruising at a level of two to the power of twenty-five thousand to one against and falling, and we will be restoring normality just as soon as we are sure what is normal anyway. Thank you."

They all found themselves surround in a small luminous pink cubicle.

"Arthur!" Ford cried, no longer squawking as he was once more regaining his human characteristics. "This is fantastic! We've been picked up by a ship powered by the Infinite Improbability Drive! This is incredible! I heard rumors about it before! They were all officially denied, but they must have done it! They've built the Improbablity Drive! Arthur, this is… Arthur? What's happening?"

"Two to the power of forty two to one against and falling." The voice chimed in helpfully.

Rose was already looking at Arthur as Ford asked this. The normal looking bloke had jammed himself against the door to the cubicle, trying to hold it closed, but it was ill fitting. Tiny furry little hands were squeezing themselves through the cracks, their fingers were ink stained; tiny voices chattered insanely Her tongue tweeted sweetly back at them, a red pen somehow clasped inside of it.

Arthur looked up.

"Ford!" he said, "there's an infinite number of monkeys outside who want to talk to us about this script for Hamlet they've worked out."

Rose was mentally horrified by how much grammar checking she'd have to be doing shortly as she felt herself drip out of existence.

A spiral was an odd sort of sensation, one that Rose had never had the fortune of ever believing it to be such a sensation before. But it was, and Rose spiraled herself back into existence in a quite improbable manner—she was almost proud of herself for managing to keep all her good bits in their rightful places. Her world also spiraled into existence, or perhaps that was just her disorientation making everything seem a bit wonky.

Rose went into a kneeling position, feeling it best for herself and any possible bystanders to do so in case she should spiral outwards or spiral inwards or explode. Or even just fall over, because that was a very probable end to the improbable scenario she'd been thrust into. She closed her eyes and breathed out, ears popping as they adjusted to the new pressure she was in.


Rose opened her eyes at the voice, looking up from her kneeling position and staring at the improbable sight before her. The Doctor, her Doctor, stared back at her, a gob smacked look of disbelief on his face. He was also in a horrendous blue suit—nothing like his previous grandeur one.

"Oh," she said simply, more so testing to make sure her tongue was behaving and was in fact right where it should be.

It was, she was happy to find. She was also happy to find that, almost an entire two seconds later, she was hugged tight by the Doctor. She smiled, letting her tongue slip between her teeth and enjoying the feel of it, and wrapped her arms around him. The blue suit would have to go, of course, but it was amazingly nice to be home again.