AN: Inspired by a banana, like so many things in this fandom are, and how often do you get to say that?
To the surprise of a few, Rose smiles a lot during the day.
It starts in the morning. A bowl full of cereal, along with a cup of coffee and the days paper. She smiles as she bites into a banana while reading the headlines.
From there it's off to work. She used to take public transit but found that, for once, she wanted to be in the drivers seat.
Tired of listening to the 20 latest pop songs play on repeat, she switches over to talk radio. Someone who sounds rather like a scientist is discussing the changes of the sun with the shows hosts. She smiles when he tells them bluntly that the sun will eventually expand and there's nothing we can do about it.
At work she's well respected, and considered an expert by some. Joined the company with more field experience than any other entry level employee in its history, but she doesn't care much about that. Work is work, it's her co-workers she cares about. Teamed with Mickey and Jake means every day is entertaining.
While they're working on a particle engine they salvaged, Mickey makes a mistake, setting off a few sparks. She can't help smiling when Jake calls him an idiot.
Lunch is always the same - chips. Terrible for her figure but she was always fond of them. She smiles sweetly at the dinner lady, in her blue smock and white hat, then takes her tray to the cafeteria table for a quick bite before getting back to work.
Just before she leaves for the day she takes the stairs to the top floor. As she runs up the steps she smiles, the burn in her legs a familiar feeling.
On the top floor she's greeted by some of the employees there. They've gotten used to her stopping by on their floor by now. As soon as she's done chatting she makes her way down the hall to a room that is locked off to nearly all of Torchwoods employees. She swipes her key quickly and steps in, closing the door behind her. It's dark, but she needn't bother turning the lights on. She knows her way around well enough to make it to the wall on the far end of the room. After staring at it for a moment, she rests her palms and forehead against it and smiles.
The drive home is much the same as the drive to work, merely in reverse. She smiles when Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick by Ian Drury and the Blockheads begins to play as she nears home and sits in the driveway to wait until it finishes, tapping the dashboard along with the beat..
When she gets inside she tends to flip through the channels, too restless to stick with one show for too long. She skips past the reality shows without pause and lands on a report about the royal family. The narrator mentions their interests in hunting and blood sports and she smiles amused. She smiles a bit more when she sees the narrator is ginger, then turns off the TV.
Before she goes to sleep she likes to curl up with a good book. She grabs the Mystery Of Edwin Drood by Charles Dickens and smiles fondly at the leather cover. She's got an amended copy where various scholars attempted to figure out the ending. There are plenty who guess the uncle but none of them mention blue elementals.
The words are familiar to her by now, having been re-read so many times. Finally she begins to drift off and puts the book to the side. As she lays in her bed, arms wrapped around a pillow by her side, she hears her name whispered, and smiles.