CHANCE OF A LUNCHTIME

Eleven down. Same old, same old, repetitive, dull. Seven Letters.

Huh... story of her life since she'd left the Doctor. She'd wanted more than he could give and it had been killing her to stay. Now it was killing her to be apart. A year to the day. Happy anniversary Rose Tyler. One year since you left the best thing that ever happened to you.

Rose looked up from her newspaper and gave a small sigh as she looked out of the office window to the rain that poured down. Another typical Summers day. She twirled a pencil between her fingers and then slowly filled in the empty squares. M-U-N-D-A-N-E.

She looked around the empty office. Everyone had gone out for lunch, except for Jilly the temp, who'd gone to the canteen on the third floor. But Rose wasn't hungry, so she'd decided to stay at her desk. She tapped the pencil point on the newspaper and let her eyes read the next clue that caught her attention.

Five across. Journey, tour, wander. Six letters. T-R-A-V-E-L.

She glanced at the clock on the wall, still twenty minutes to go before everyone was due back at their desks.

Twelve across. Save, help, aid. Six letters. R-E-S-C-U-E.

Come back, reappear, reinstate. Six letters. R-E-T-U-R-N.

Adore, cherish, infatuation. Four letters. She tapped the pencil thoughtfully.

"Love." The voice said softly into her ear, and starteled she turned to find herself staring into the face of the man she only ever saw in her dreams. He smiled at her. "Hello Rose."

She got to her feet. "Doctor?"

"Least you could do is finish your crossword. I'm pretty fond of nine down myself."

Rose scanned the clues, searching for the ... Escape, run away, marry.

The tears welled up in Roses eyes, and she moved into his arms. She'd missed him so much.

He looked into her eyes. "Well?" He asked. "Will you?"

She grinned at him. "Affirmative. Three letters."

He grinned back. "Think I can figure that one out." Then he kissed her.

xxxxx

Three weeks later, after Rose Tyler had apparently disapeared without trace, her boss gave her job to Jilly. Not that Rose knew, or cared for that matter. She was on her honeymoon, in the year 3640. But she did send everyone a postcard. Eventually. There was no address, and she'd written just one word -- FANTASTIC.

Jilly pinned it up on the board by the water cooler. She rather liked the picture of the old blue police box. Very retro.

THE END