Disclaimer: Fringe belongs to Bad Robot and Fox. TenII and Rose and their assorted memories belong to Russell T. Davies and the Beeb. All I own is the dorkish mind that thought this fic up.

A/N: The second I saw that the other universe had zeppelins, I knew a Tenth Doctor era crossover had to be done. The second Olivia got stuck Over There, I knew the Doctor and Rose would have to meet her. Add in the fact that I'm certain the writers are closet RTD era Whovians (due to the explanations they write about things in physics), and well...here we are. Knowledge of both series is helpful, but not necessary to understand what's going on, as I tend to rehash events in conversation to keep people up to speed on both fandoms.

Spoilers: Up through 4x13 "Journey's End" on New Doctor Who (with some small references to Classic!Who era Doctors and companions). Up through 2x22 "Over There Part II" for Fringe.

Let me know what you think

The Planets Bend Between Us

When Rose Tyler awoke, she discovered three things. First, she noticed that she was in complete darkness. Second, she noted that she had a pounding headache, which was understandable given the knot she was sporting at the base of her skull from the butt of someone's rifle. Last, and most distressingly, she noted that the Doctor was nowhere to be found, as evidenced by the silence in which she found herself. If the Doctor was with her, he would either be cuddling with her in the dark, nursing her head like an overindulgent mother hen, or (and this was equally likely) pacing the room in the dark, feeling the walls and alternating between yelling at possible video cameras and muttering quietly while dropping key phrases such as "Defender of the Earth" (which always made Rose bristle as that was HER title in this universe) and "Destroyer of Worlds."

Rose panicked for the briefest of seconds. If the Doctor wasn't with her, he could be anywhere. For all Rose knew, she could be on a spaceship, halfway to the Kenula system on the other side of the constellation Lyra. Or she could have hit a rift in time and have been accidentally buried alive in 1558. It wasn't as though it would be the first time for either scenario. When one worked for Torchwood or was friends with the Doctor, (and she had the honour of doing both on a daily basis), one often found themselves in what would be considered laughable, B-movie sci-fi situations by most people. Rose took a deep breath and calmed herself down. Wherever she was, rather it was a coffin or the dark depths of space, the Doctor would find her, or she would find him. Universes hadn't been able to keep them separate for long, and a few feet of dirt or thousands of miles of endless vacuum wouldn't do so either.

Once Rose's initial panic had subsided, she laid down in the dark and laid out her hands and feet as wide as she could go. All she felt was the cold floor on her back. She rolled slightly to her right side and once again felt no walls hindering her movement. She encountered the same when she rolled to her left. When she established there was plenty of leg-room and arm-room, she stuck her hands up and once again felt nothing. Wherever she was, she could sit up and was guaranteed a few feet of space at least. This comforted her greatly. Wherever else she may be, she wasn't buried alive. (That was one experience Rose Tyler did *not* want to go through again, in any universe). Once she had sat herself up, she braced her hands behind her and started scooting backwards, trying to find a wall to brace against and possibly get some idea of the amount of space the room offered. After about five repeated motions of moving her hands back and pushing with her feet to repel her body back wards, she settled with a sigh and grunt against what she discovered to be a padded wall.

"You could just sit on the bench with me," came a hoarse whisper of a voice to her right.

Rose nearly jumped out of her skin. She had been so preoccupied with finding out the size of the room that she had given no thought to anyone else being in the room with her.

"I won't hurt you," the voice said again. "I saw you when they threw you in here. You're in a white outfit, just like me. They hit you in the head hard enough to draw blood, and you had bruises on your fists, so you fought back. Therefore, you're not one of them. So, don't worry. I won't hurt you," the voice said, getting stronger and more determined as it went on, ending the last sentence with deliberate emphasis on each word.

"To my right you said, yeah?" Rose asked, touching the bruised portion of her head and finding a crusty area on her scalp, proving what the unknown voice had said. They must have really hit her hard. Rose inwardly cursed the Doctor for a brief moment. If he hadn't been rambling on at a thousand miles an hour about some scientific hullabaloo the last time she had seen him (hullabaloo of which she told him on their first trip she had failed at understanding) she may have heard the guard shuffling up behind her. As it was, she had been too distracted trying to run and think about the import of what he had been saying and trying to suss out what it all meant instead of paying attention to where she was running.

"Yeah," the voice (which Rose could finally identify was female in gender) answered in reply. "Just follow my voice and go slow about two feet forward and one to the right."

"How can you tell in this place?" Rose asked, standing slowly and taking two steps forward before turning very deliberately to the right and walking forward, feeling for the bench with her hands.

"Well, I've been here a while. I know every inch of this cell," came the voice, this time from directly in front of her. She felt a brief touch of smooth fingers against the back of her right hand before the hand fully grabbed hers and lightly pulled Rose forward. Rose reached down and felt the briefest touch of scratchy fabric over muscled thigh before muttering a brief "Sorry," and removing her fingers to the bench. After feeling around and concluding that the bench would be big enough for her to sit on while maintaining a comfortable distance from the unseen stranger, Rose sat down, resting her head against the padded wall again.

"So, what are you in for?" Rose asked, putting on her best fake New York accent. That is to say, a really bad one.

"I stole back the Secretary of Defense's son, and foiled his plans for universal genocide." If it were not for the situations Rose often found herself in, she would have thought the woman was being glib.

"Yeah, megalomaniacs hate it when that happens. We knew the Secretary was up to something, but we just didn't know what. Well, I can add that to my ever-growing list of things I need to get done today."

"You said 'we,' which means you work for some sort of intelligence organization. Which one? You're British, so...MI-5? Interpol? What?"

"None of the above. Torchwood London at your service," Rose said.

"Torchwood? I've never heard of it. What's that? Black ops?"

"You've never heard of Torchwood? That's impossible! We're all over the news! Stars going out, Dalek invasion, Dr. Lumic's Cybermen...we took care of all that."

The woman's silence was all the evidence Rose Tyler needed that whomever she was speaking to was not from around here, and by "here" she meant the universe in which they were both sitting.

"You're not from this universe, are you?" Rose asked, a tone in her voice that made it clear she was more making a statement than asking a question.

"It's that obvious, is it?" the voice asked, a small, sardonic smile in her voice.

"Well, you just don't sound like the kind of woman who wouldn't be aware of world-changing events. So, you guessed I worked for some kind of intelligence. Which branch do you work for?"

"FBI. Fringe Division. Well, my world's anyway."

"So, do you have the tattoo the federal agents have to have in this universe's intelligence forces? I mean, the British agencies don't require it, but due to the sheer amount of unexplained rift activity in the States, the agents have to get them here. By order of the Secretary," Rose added, putting her hand over her heart in mock allegiance before remembering that the woman couldn't see her.

"No, we don't have tattoos. Just badges."

"Oh, so still the way I remember seeing it on the X-Files then. Tell me, the universe you're from...do they have a Prime Minister or a President in Great Britain?"

"Why so curious?" the voice asked, half suspicious and half amused.

"You're not the only one who isn't from around here." Rose paused a moment to let that knowledge set in the woman's mind before she continued. "But that doesn't necessarily mean we're from the same place either."

"There's a Prime Minister," the voice answered after a short pause. "Had the Twin Towers and the Pentagon been hit on 9/11 in your original universe?"

"Yes," Rose answered, feeling a strange burst of excitement at the thought of meeting someone outside of her family that was from the same world as she. "It looks like we're from the same universe, or at least very similar in the major events. What's your name?"

The voice was silent a few minutes and Rose had no doubts that its owner was deciding whether or not to be honest. When the answer finally came, it came in a halted tone, as though the woman were giving it against her better judgment. "Olivia. Dunham."

"I'm Rose. Rose Tyler." The woman's lack of response to this name gave Rose yet another burst of happiness. Whatever universe she was from, Pete Tyler had not been a successful businessman for she wasn't treating Rose like a celebrity. The odds that Olivia Dunham was from the same universe as she was were improving by the minute.

"So, Rose Tyler...what are *you* in for?" Olivia asked, taking on a much more successful faux-Brooklyn accent than Rose had managed to fake.

"Want the long version or the short version?" Rose asked, swiping a bit of unseen blonde hair behind her ear.

"Usually I'd say short, but we've got plenty of time..."

"Well, it all started when the Doctor noticed unscheduled rift activity here in New York. Given the sheer amount of prior incidents and spreading quarantined areas, the Doctor decided to lead an inquiry."

"Doctor who?" came Olivia's voice, breaking Rose's thoughts and reminding her once again that Olivia knew as little of this universe as Rose had when she first stumbled into it.

"Just 'the Doctor.' He doesn't use a name, and before you ask what he's a doctor of, he's a doctor of everything. Well, except medicine, though he has cured people of random diseases before too. Just picture the smartest man you can think of who at times verges on insane, and then double it, and you have the Doctor."

Rose heard Olivia chuckle in the dark, and though she could not see it, she was certain that Olivia had a smile on her face. Rose was curious as to what Olivia was picturing, but decided she would ask later. She still had quite a ways to go on her answer after all, and the sooner Olivia was caught up in what had gotten Rose locked in this room, the sooner Rose and Olivia could search for a way out.

"Anyway, the Doctor wanted to check out these readings, but no one from the office of the Secretary of Defense would answer his question. So, we took the problem to the top of the intelligence chain..."

"Absolutely not, Doctor!" her father yelled, his voice reverberating around the large office room. Pete Tyler stood before the observation window, the light from the setting Sun casting an eerie glow about his thinning red hair and making his glower even more pronounced. "I know that the rift activity incites your curiosity, and I share your concerns, but Great Britain's associations with the United States are tenuous at best without me allowing two agents into the facility under the radar simply because the Secretary of Defense can't be arsed to answer your questions."

"Pete, Pete, Pete, Pete. Pete Tyler," said the pinstriped suit clad man to Rose's left, bouncing on the balls of his feet in white plimsolls. Rose watched with arms folded across her chest as the-man-who-was-her-father-but-wasn't rolled his eyes heavenward in fond exasperation and pre-conceded defeat. "Look, I'm not saying Torchwood should get involved. Far from it. I think the situation is bad enough without a bunch of people going in guns blazing," the Doctor wheedled, sticking his hands into his pants pockets, and getting a slight sneer across his face at the mention of guns. Despite working for Torchwood in an advisory capacity, any sort of weapon still caused him to clench his teeth. He loosened his jaw and continued speaking. "Rather, I was suggesting that two scientists from the Department of Defense could, you know, amble around the research facilities."

"Two scientists?" Pete scoffed. "Need I remind you that neither of you do very convincing American accents? Or that Rose is world famous-both as my daughter and as an agent? Doctor, you don't have a plan, and while we may not know exactly what the Secretary of Defense is up to, we do know it's dangerous!"

"Exactly why you should let your best and brightest (and by the first I mean Rose, and by the latter I mean me) investigate. And I *do* have a plan. Sort of. Maybe."

Rose stepped forward away from the Doctor's side and looked her dad straight in the eye, her back straight. Finding out what was going on with the rapidly opening rifts in the United States was important, whether the Secretary was involved with them or not. And as much as she loved her father and her work, she would never trust another agent to a mission this important. She already knew that the Doctor would go to the United States with or without her father's permission, and where the Doctor went, she went. End of story.

"Look, Dad. The universe is still weakened from the Reality Bomb. Two years hasn't been enough time for the wounds in reality to heal. Whether Walter Bishop is involved or not, the rift is unstable and the last thing we need is the stars going out and Daleks and Cybermen finding their way into our world again, or into any of the worlds. Now, you can send the Doctor with me to look after me and have my back, or not. But I'm going with or without Torchwood's resources."

Rose didn't look behind her, but she could feel the smile on the Doctor's face, as well as his pride and adoration. When Rose Tyler had her mind set on something, she was a force to be reckoned with, and while she at times forgot that, she knew the Doctor never did. She could tell from the look on Pete Tyler's face that he was remembering this too.

Pete took a deep breath and released it, putting his hands on his desk and bowing his head for a moment. Rose knew he was praying for the strength to face her mother when he went home.

"Alright, you two. I'll give you the zeppelin tickets you need, as well as some show-mes. But that's all I can do. If you get caught, Torchwood will have to disavow itself of any knowledge. You'll be on your own."

"Understood," Rose said, giving a nod to the Doctor. He nodded with a small smile and gave her a brief glance before leaving the room.

"I don't have to tell you to be careful, do I, Rose?" Pete asked, coming from behind his desk and grabbing his not-quite daughter's hand.

"No, sir. I'll be careful. And if something happens, the Doctor's there to look after me."

The expression on Pete Tyler's face stated quite clearly that he knew the Doctor's questionable track record when it came to looking after his adopted daughter. But he also knew that Rose was quite capable of looking after herself (and the Doctor as well on many occasions), and he allowed himself a small smile and a chuckle. "Just be sure you make it home in one piece. Jackie will kill me if you lose any appendages."

"Don't worry, Dad. I'll make sure that the most you end up with is a slap."

Pete shuddered. "You say that like it's a gift or something. Your mum has one hell of a slap."

Rose laughed. "I know! You should have seen the one she laid on the Doctor the first time she met him! He moaned about it for days!"

"Seriously, Rose. Take care of yourself. And make sure you call your mother," Pete admonished her, pulling her into a tight hug as he gave his final dictate.

"I'll call her as soon as we land. Bye, Dad."

From there, she had gone to meet up with the Doctor in the lobby of the Torchwood building and together they had taken a private zeppelin from London to the Combined States of Portugal, and from there to the United States. The second they had landed in New York, the Doctor had taken out the sonic screwdriver he had made upon his arrival in this new universe and had begun to look for the most recent area of rift activity. That had led them to an abandoned theatre where the Doctor had said he was reading strong evidence of portable rift activity, though it was sporadic and dormant at the time. Given that this had been a dead end, the Doctor proposed that he and Rose sneak into the office of the D.O.D. and see if they could find out if Walter Bishop was involved.

"How are we going to do that without the psychic paper?"

"Well, Rose, we're just going to have to do it the old fashioned way."

"Which is?"

"We fake some identification."

"You mean show-mes," Rose corrected, a smile on her face for she could already predict the Doctor's reaction.

"Blech. I hate that term. Show-mes. It just sounds so...unintelligent. I mean, seriously! It's redundant. If an underage person goes into a pub and orders a drink, a barman saying show me your show-me just sounds pretentious. Now the word 'identification,' that has flare. Even the term i.d. has a certain gumption to it, not to be confused with the term 'id' which means something entirely different..."

It was around this statement that Rose blocked him out and just began nodding her head. When the Doctor, half-human or fully Time Lord, began speaking on completely unrelated topics, it was best just to pretend to listen unless you heard your name come up. Rose had learnt this after less than a day of traveling with him.

As the Doctor walked around town, going on endlessly about random subjects-starting with identification cards and ending with Silurian mating habits-he nonchalantly swiped two identification cards from people he casually bumped into, a male and female respectively. Rose, meanwhile, smiled and chatted with the Doctor in second-hand thrift stores, picking up random objects and fiddling with them while they 'chatted.' At the fifth thrift store they visited, one of these objects just happened to be a child's sticky camera from the mid-90s that she then quietly pocketed while the Doctor confused the store-clerk with his rambling chatter.

"So, what's the plan for tomorrow then?" Rose asked that night as they sat on their bed in the low-key hotel the Doctor had picked. They had taken pictures of each other with the sticky camera and used the instant developing sticky film to cover up the original pictures on the identification cards the Doctor had 'liberated.' Rose was now sporting the name Jennie Wade and the Doctor was holding the name Paul Crand.

"Well, these aren't the sort of identification cards that a D.O.D. agent would actually wear, so we're just going to have to pin these to our shirts and walk fast enough that no one really has time to look at them. And you make sure you keep your head down. I don't want people recognizing you!"

"I know, I know," Rose said, rolling her eyes. The Doctor really was *too* protective of her at times. She was well aware of her celebrity status in this universe, and at times she couldn't help but feel that everyone's constant reminders were an underestimation of her intelligence. "So, we get into the D.O.D. offices at the Statue of Liberty. Then what?"

"Then we...look. Try and find out what the Secretary has been hiding from the rest of the world. And, if need be, we run."

"*That's* your plan?"

"Oi! It's more of a plan than I've usually got!"

Rose couldn't deny the truth of that statement. She merely sighed in response and laid down on the bed, closing her eyes, and laying her hands on her stomach.

"Rose, what are you doing?"


"Yes, I can see that. But why?"

"Well, you said we'd probably end up running tomorrow, so I'm working on restoring my energy. You're a scientist and a genius, you should know this."

"Well, yes, but I had thought-"

"You thought what, Doctor?" Rose asked, a sharp tone in her voice and her face hiding a smile. She knew *exactly* what the Doctor had been thinking of doing.

The Doctor said nothing, but she felt him move slightly on the bed, coming down from sitting with his back against the headboard to lying on his side with every inch of his body touching her side. He leaned the top half of his body over her and she opened her eyes to see the Doctor's dark brown eyes staring dead into hers, his brown fringe sticking straight up in the front.

"I was thinking...I hadn't given you a proper goodnight." With that, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers. Rose couldn't help but smile. This was by far the happiest part of her day-the minutes right before she went to sleep, when the Doctor was hers and hers alone. She moved her hands from the bedspread to his head and held his head steady so that he couldn't pull back, not that he was giving any indication of wanting to do. She allowed her fingers to move through the hair that she herself had described as "really great" and she fought not to go further than kissing him when he moved his orally fixated tongue into her mouth. The Doctor did many things well. He could talk the hind legs off a donkey, re-work whole electronic circuits in seconds, speak over 5 million languages, and had even saved the world using only a satsuma, but if Rose had to pick one thing the Doctor was exceptional at, it would be kissing. There was something about his lips and tongue that made her forget not only who she was or where she was, but what she was there to do in the first place. This time was no exception and if one were to ask her later how long she had allowed the Doctor to kiss her goodnight, she could not have told you. Clearly, it was long enough for her to thoroughly mess up his already messy hair, and for him to have maneuvered himself completely on top of her. It was also long enough that she had wrapped one leg around his waist and his hand had moved to her thigh to caress it in a possessive grip.

By the time the Doctor pulled back from kissing her, Rose was mewling into his mouth and was more than willing to be tired the next day if it meant she could spend the night shagging him (for due to certain universe-saving events, it had been nearly a week since the last time they had been able to indulge in such activities). "Goodnight, Rose Tyler," the Doctor said, rolling out from between her legs and giving her a cheeky smile and wink before rolling to his side and easing into a deep sleep.

Rose huffed in annoyance for a few minutes before trying to poke the Doctor awake so he could finish what he started. He seemed dead set on staying asleep, however. Rose turned to her side facing the opposite direction and forced herself to try to sleep. "Bloody alien," she muttered, yanking the covers up around her exposed shoulder and she gave a small smile of satisfaction when she realized this left the Doctor mostly uncovered to the cold room. He deserved it.

They had been at the Statue of Liberty by ten the next morning. Surprisingly, the first part of the Doctor's lack-of-plan had gone well. Rose had kept her head down (though uncovered by a hood as she figured that would look way too suspicious), and she and the Doctor had simply walked fast and acted as if they knew where they were going. Whenever they reached a security checkpoint, the Doctor would simply turn on his charm and, as they walked through, he would be chatting up whomever was standing guard so that the guard wouldn't pay any attention to the very incorrect forms of identification they were wearing. Rose couldn't help but think-not for the first time-that the Doctor was little more than a time-traveling, space-hopping con-artist. She knew better than to mention that assessment to the Doctor, for she knew he would take it as a comparison to their con-artist friend Jack Harkness, which he would take either as a compliment or an insult (depending on what day it was).

Upon entering the main part of the building, they began to search the rooms for any sign of a universe hopping device or anything that could potentially slither between realities. It wasn't until they reached room 47 that they discovered it. The Doctor had used the sonic screwdriver to blow the heavy security locks (muttering the whole time that if it wasn't dead-lock sealed then Walter Bishop clearly wasn't as much of a genius as he had led the world to believe), and they had run in, shutting the door behind them. Rose had not yet even turned around when she heard the Doctor give an impressed whistle, followed by the sound of him unfolding what she had heard him call his 'brainy specs.'

The Doctor was ogling what appeared to be a large, black platform with what appeared to be two metal table legs sticking up on it with hand straps attached to the top. From the ceiling were hung two large black half crescents, though slightly blockish in form. Based on the tracks surrounding them on the ceiling, Rose concluded that these crescents probably spun around in a circle around whatever object happened to be strapped to those two table legs she observed.

"Is it a power source of some sort?" Rose asked, hazarding a guess.

"Yes, in the most simplest of terms, though I'm afraid it's much more complicated than it is simple. It is a power source, but it can't charge anything," the Doctor explained, checking out the control system ten feet away from the machine itself. He was running the screwdriver over the controls, making a concerned face at the beeping signals it was giving off and running a distressed hand through his hair, making it stick out in all directions. "It's like a great big battery, but this control system isn't saying where any of the energy is supposed to go."

"What's it draw energy from? And why? I mean, this universe is already so much more advanced than the one we came from, so what kind of energy do they need?"

"That's a good question. I would say, based on the distance between those two place holders and the size of the hand placements, that we're dealing with a human power source."

"You mean, they're going to drain a person?"

"Yes, and based on the designs for these controls, that power source will only work with a specific type of DNA. But I don't know whose it is. It's not in the system."

"But, what would they use it for?"

"I'm not sure," the Doctor responded, but Rose could tell from the look in his eyes that the Doctor had a pretty good idea. He just wasn't keen on sharing it...yet. Which meant that either the news would make her upset, it was another "end of the universe" moment, it was something the Doctor couldn't stop, or (and this was most likely) it was all three.

"So what do we do?"

"Well, I'm not sure the purpose of that machine, but whomever it's meant for...that machine will kill them. And there's enough energy in a person's life to rip the universe apart. So, we find out whose DNA that is, and we keep them from getting on that machine."

"How do we do that?"

"Why, Rose Tyler, I'm shocked you even have to ask such a question! We snoop around of course! Something that important, there's got to be documented evidence somewhere."

"*You* wouldn't write it down," Rose reminded him.

"Well, yes, but no one else is as smart as me, are they?" the Doctor reminded her, sticking his sonic screwdriver back in his pocket and placing his hand on the small of her back to usher her towards the door. Rose merely raised her eyebrows and shook her head in fondness.

The second the door closed behind them, an alarm sounded. The Doctor had, once again, forgot to sonic the inside alarm before they left. Rose glared at him while the Doctor conjured up what was trying (and failing) to be an innocent smile. "Oops," he muttered. "Run!"

Rose took off running to the left while the Doctor took off to the right. This was a strategy they had worked out long ago, back when she had traveled with him in a blue police box through time and space, and he had sported blue eyes, close-cropped hair, and a Manchester accent. If alarm bells went off, they were to go separate ways for if one got caught, the other was more likely to be able to hide and come rescue the other. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. Rose really hoped it would work this time for she did not like what little she knew of Walter Bishop. She had spoken to the man twice at some Vitex parties and he was like any other politician who had suffered a personal tragedy-ready to milk the tragedy for all it was worth and full of vengeance. Those qualities were fine if you were an everyday person, but they were dangerous if you were a person in power and Rose had automatically been leery of him; the Doctor was even more so.

Rose ran down hallway after hallway until she almost couldn't tell where she was (hindered slightly by the fact that all the hallways were very much the same). She had reached a dead end and was catching her breath when she felt the barrel of a gun pressing against the back of her neck. She immediately put her hands up in surrender.

"On your knees," a voice commanded. Rose, despite her independent nature, found herself following the order. After all, she had promised Pete and the Doctor that she would take care of herself and if she had any hope of getting out the D.O.D. she had to first survive long enough to do so. That didn't mean she would go down without a fight. Her Torchwood training came to the fore and she quickly reached behind her and knocked the gun barrel away from her and quickly kneed the guy in the stomach, followed by a punch to his face. However, she had failed to pay attention to her surroundings and didn't notice the other guard coming to his friend's aid. The last thing Rose had been aware of was a sharp pain in the back of her skull that caused her to bite her tongue, and then she had seen nothing but darkness.

"...and then I woke up here," Rose finished.

"Wow. That is quite a story. So, both you and the Doctor are from an alternate universe too, huh?"


"And the Doctor is an alien."


"So, how did you get here?"

"That's a long story. How about I tell you when we get out of here?"

"That's *if* we get out of here," Olivia replied, her voice taking on a defeated, tired sound.

"How long have you been here?"

"I don't know. It always looks the same. What month is it?"


Olivia was quiet for a few moments, but Rose heard her take in a ragged breath. Rose could tell from Olivia's voice that Olivia was not a person who would cry or complain, but she could also tell from the sigh she gave that if Olivia had been the crying type, she would have started now.

"Four months. I've been here for four months." Olivia sounded almost surprised.

"Well, we'll get out soon. You now have something you didn't have. A new pair of hands to scan the walls with, and we have the Doctor. If we can't find a way out, then he'll find us."

"You have a lot of faith in him," Olivia stated, not as though she was skeptical, but merely stating fact.

"Of course I do. When I first got trapped in this universe, he was still in the other one. It took me three years, but I found my way back. And we had both changed since the last time we had seen each other, but he was still my best friend, and he stayed with me in this universe-slightly different than he had been before, but still my Doctor. Still someone who loved me, and still intent on saving my ass whether I wanted him to or not. Why wouldn't I trust that? Trust me, he'll find us, and he'll figure out a way to get you home."

"Well, I hope so," was all Olivia said and Rose felt Olivia's arm brush against hers as Olivia drew her legs onto the bench and wrapped her arms around them, resting her head against her knees.

"So, how did you steal the Secretary's son? Didn't he disappear like 27 years ago?"

"Yeah, he ended up in my universe. Dr. Walter Bishop's son died at 7 years old in my reality. Walter couldn't handle seeing it happen to another Walter, couldn't stand the look of pain that would inevitably be on an Alter-Elizabeth's face, so he decided to cure the son of his alternate self. But, the vial holding the antidote broke on the trip between realities and he had to steal his alternate self's son. He was originally going to return him, but he just couldn't."

"I can understand that. I came to this world once before I got stuck here. I told the Doctor that I just wanted to *see* my dad because he had died when I was a baby. But once I saw him, I had to talk to him, and then I had to tell him who I was. But he had never had a daughter here and us being related was inconceivable to him. It wasn't until I got stuck here for good that he even saw me as an adopted relative, much less a blood relative. But he wouldn't trade me for anything now, and I could never give him up. We love who we love, and not even reason can stop it."

"Well, Walter kept this a secret from Peter, his son. But, Peter is almost as much of a genius as his father is, and he worked it out eventually. He was SO angry. He ran away in the middle of the night, didn't tell any of us where he was going. The Secretary crossed over and found him on our side and Peter came back here with him. That would have been fine, but the Walter from our reality and I-we discovered something. That machine you were talking about? Peter is the one with the DNA that runs it. We saw drawings that some acquaintances of ours had made that showed what it would do not only to the world, but to Peter. So, we rallied up some friends with certain talents, and three of them plus Walter and I came over to this side to find him and warn him. I actually managed to find him and talk him into coming back with us, but there was an explosion outside the building, and I was knocked out and woke up here."

"And Peter?"

"I have no idea. Based on how long it's been, he's either dead," Rose heard Olivia's voice break slightly at the thought, "or he crossed back over without me."

"Do you really think he would do that?"

Olivia was silent a moment before answering very quietly, "No. But I can't bear the thought that he might be dead."

"He's your best friend, isn't he?" Rose asked knowingly. She did not know Olivia's face or mannerisms, but she knew voices and she understood relationships. And if Olivia had been willing to travel across dimensions simply to leave her friend a warning, then she must love him dearly as a friend, if not more. And, she also noted to herself, despite the heavy truth that he was from an alternate dimension, Peter had been willing to come back to the universe that had lied to him for the majority of his life after a mere conversation with Olivia. Rose couldn't help but wonder what that conversation had consisted of, but she knew better than to ask.

"Yes, he is," Olivia answered, the strength returning to it, and with an air of awe about her tone, as though she had never quite noted this fact out loud before.

"Then I say we find a way out of this cell, get the Doctor, and we find out what the bloody hell happened to Peter Bishop. Are you with me?" Rose turned her head to the left, facing where she knew Olivia was sitting in the darkness.

She heard the rustling of clothing as Olivia turned to her direction in the darkness and she knew that if she could see Olivia, Olivia's eyes would have been staring right into hers with a fiery strength.

"Yes. Let's do this."

"Allon-sy," Rose muttered quietly and she took a deep breath as she and Olivia climbed to their feet.