Disclaimer: Doctor Who is owned by the BBC, Harry Potter is the  
creation of J.K. Rowling, no money is being made from this, and no  
such intent should be inferred.

Note: Chapter 3 was getting to be a bit long so I split it into two  
parts, with part two being chapter 4, which will be along presently.  
Also, you can sing the disclaimer. Hmmm . . . musical disclaimers . . .

-----------------------------

Molly Weasley turned at the sound of an owl alighting on the kitchen  
windowsill. It wasn't an owl she recognized, but it had the air of  
post owl. As though to confirm it, it hooted softly and held out its  
leg.

"And what do you suppose this is, then?" Molly wondered, giving the  
sauce one more stir and then taking the envelope from the bird's leg.  
It hooted once more, dipped its beak into the water dish, and then  
flew away.

The message inside was brief and to the point. Almost terse. But that  
was Muggles for you.

At that point, her son Ron, daughter Ginny, and Ron's friend Harry  
came in.

"Oi, you lot," Molly said. "Hermione won't be coming after all."

"What?" Ron exclaimed. Hermione was his girlfriend. "Why?"

"Her mother didn't say," Molly replied, and handed her son the letter  
before turning back to the stove. Ginny and Harry peered at the  
letter over Ron's shoulders.

   Molly,
A family matter has come up and I'm afraid Hermione won't be able to  
come to the Burrow this summer. She'll be on the train September 1st.
Regards,
Janet Granger.

"Family matter?" wondered Ginny. "What does that matter?"

Ron and Harry glanced at each other.

"And neither of you get any ideas about running off to London, mind,"  
Molly said, turning back to them and pointing the spoon at Ron and  
Harry. "Jan Granger wouldn't have written unless it was important and  
they don't need the two of you showing up. She says Hermione will be  
on the train September 1st and you can wait till then. Now go wash  
up, lunch is almost ready."

The children left the room and Molly returned her attention to cooking.

----------------

It was late when Janet knocked on the door of Hermione's room to  
announce that it was time for dinner. Hermione hadn't noticed the  
hour, she'd been deep in a book about magical device making.

Washing up, she entered the dining room and wrinkled her nose. There  
was a smell coming from her father. Sort of musky, not entirely  
unpleasant.

"You're smelling pheromones," Janet said from the stove. "We'll  
discuss that later."

"Oh. Wait . . . "He knows? I thought you said he didn't."

"Your change made him concerned and your father can be fairly  
persuasive when he puts his mind to it," Janet replied. She and  
Herbert smiled at each other and Hermione realized what the smell was.

"You've been shagging!" she blurted out and Herbert nearly dropped  
the dish he'd been holding.

"I see what you mean," he said to Janet. "She is just a little  
different, isn't she?"

"It usually is with us," Janet replied. "Set the table, Hermione."

Hermione complied and as she did, a thought occurred to her. "Mum?"

"You're an alien . . . and dad is human, right?"

"Right."

"So your physiologies are totally different. You're different  
species. How could I have been born?"

Janet pursed her lips in thought. "An excellent question, Dear. I'm  
not sure of that myself. Until Professor Dumbledore told us you were  
a witch, I thought it had been something having to do with my  
regeneration. It's a rearranging of our DNA, you know, and my most  
recent one was under . . . unusual circumstances."

"But now?"

Janet's tone was thoughtful. "This isn't my first time on Earth in  
this era. The last time was during my first life, nineteen seventy- 
eight, I think it was."

Hermione stared at her mother. "You were involved in the First War?"  
she  asked, incredulous.

"Only peripherally," Janet replied. "I was on earth for other reasons  
and they happened to cross paths with some agents of Professor  
Dumbledore. In any case, I had the opportunity to read some of the  
works of a fifth century wizard named Silas Barneum. He believed that  
magic was alive, possessed a will of its own. At the time, I  
dismissed it as a rubbish. Now, I'm not so sure." She took the pan  
over to the table and set it on the tile hot plate. "Hermione, I've  
written to Molly Weasley and told her you won't be coming to the  
Burrow this summer."

"What? But why?"

"You've regenerated, Hermione," Janet's tone was firm. "Like it or  
not, you're not human anymore and there's things you need to learn  
and know. You can see your friends September first."

Hermione knew better than to sulk, but she mentally stuck her tongue  
out at her mother.

"I saw that," Janet said.

-----------------

Cardiff, 1975

Romana exited the TARDIS and turned around to see what form it has  
taken. It was a mighty oak, stretching towards the sky, branches full  
of leaves and in the trunk was a gap, just large enough for a person  
to fit into. Nodding to herself, she checked the pockets of her pants  
to make sure she had everything. Proper money for the era, psychic  
paper, and her sonic screwdriver. That last one was especially  
important. If there was one thing she'd learned from the Doctor, it  
was to always keep your sonic screwdriver close at hand. She locked  
the doors and putting the key back around her neck, set out to explore.

The TARDIS had landed in a grove of trees in the middle of a park. A  
single path wound its way to a small lake ringed by benches. Seating  
herself on one, she gazed over the lake and at the towers of Cardiff  
beyond the edges of the park. The air was clear and sweet and just a  
bit crisp.

Smiling, she watched kids and couples stroll past her. It reminded  
her of the Promenade back on Gallifrey, how . . . she felt tears  
begin to form as it hit her.

Gallifrey. By the Gods, she missed it. Why was she the last? Why  
wasn't it the Doctor? Why wasn't he the one forced to carry on? She  
was a politician and a scientist, not an explorer! She needed people.  
But now here she was alone, on a primitive planet. No one she knew,  
she was totally and utterly alone.

Pulling her knees up to her chest, she began to cry, gasping for air  
in great gulping sobs, sounding much like an animal in pain.

"Here now, here now. What's this?" The deep voice stirred Romana from  
her grief and pain. Looking up, she found herself staring at a pair  
of beetle-black eyes looking at her from a bushy black beard and  
wild, hair. It was the biggest man Romana had ever seen. "All right  
there, Miss?" He offered her a handkerchief and she accepted it with  
a whispered thank you.

"Someday, maybe," she said, wiping her eyes. "Perhaps."

The man smiled kindly and sat next to her, the bench creaking in  
alarm under his weight. "Can't be good to be crying like that," he  
said. From somewhere, he fished out a bag of bread crumbs and tossed  
some into the lake, drawing the attention of the ducks.

"I . . . lost a lot, recently," Romana said, watching the ducks  
squabble over the bread. "It just hit me all at once." She put her  
feet down as he offered the bag to her, and she took some crumbs.  
"I'm . . . new here, and I don't know anyone."

He made a tutting noise and threw some more crumbs. "I'm Rubeus  
Hagrid," he introduced himself. "Just in Cardiff on a bit of  
business. Y'rself?"

Romana laughed, almost hysterically. "Romanadvoratrelundar," she  
said. "Just in Cardiff for the next . . . few years." She laughed  
again. She couldn't help it. "Few years, few centuries. Is there a  
difference?" She lapsed into Gallifreyan. "Live a life, regenerate,  
live another. Just the Time Lord way." She threw back her head and  
howled with laughter. "Just me, only me, no light. Only darkness,"  
she said in English. "I'm a Dark Lady. Will you be my Dark Lord?" She  
giggled again.

"Stupify," said a voice, and everything went black.

She awoke in bed. A bed. She felt drowsy and relaxed. Nearby, there  
were voices.

"Are you positive, Alastor? Those were the words?"

"Yeah. Never heard the language before, then she started talking  
about being a Dark Lady. That's when I stunned her. Figured she might  
be part of Voldemort's gang, or one of their games that got away."

"I see. What did you say she said her name was?"

"Romanadvoratrelundar."

"Hm. You'd best get back to Cardiff, Alastor. The Order will need  
your help cleaning up."

There was a sharp cracking noise, and moments later, a man came to  
the bedside, he was tall, with a long, crooked nose, a beard that  
reached to his waist, and sharp blue eyes behind half-moon  
spectacles. He gazed at her for the longest moment and then helped  
her sit up. "Drink this, please" he said, handing her a glass.

Romana complied and almost immediately, the drowsiness vanished, her  
wits clear and sharp. The man sat down on the bed and studied her for  
a moment. Romana stared back.

"I must confess," he said at last, "that is very rare to meet a Time  
Lord, and rarer still to meet a Time Lady. But one in the grip of  
hysteria. That is unheard of."

"How . . ." Romana asked and trailed off as he smiled gently.

"Did I know? I've met a Time Lord or two in my time, and I recognized  
the   style. Your people have convoluted names, but appropriate,  
given your travels through time and space." He smiled at her, and she  
felt herself smile back. Slightly. "Ah, but forgive me. I am Albus  
Dumbledore, and several wizards owe you their lives."

Romana stared at him, puzzled.

"When you became hysterical, you alarmed several Dark Wizards who  
were nearby, planning an assassination as it turns out. Because of  
that, we now have them in custody and you are something of a hero."

Romana lay back and sighed. "I was never a hero, Mr. Dumbledore. I'm  
a politician, mostly. Or was."

Dumbledore patted her hand. "I did not mean to make light of your  
grief, my dear. You spoke of being alone. Did . . . something happen?"

Almost bitterly, Romana told him the story. Of the Dalek attack, and  
the ending of the war, and the price of victory. "After all," she  
finished, "I'm still alive, the last of the Time Lords." Her mouth  
thinned to a line. "No Daleks, one homeless Time Lord. Doesn't that  
mean we won?"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said. "But I believe that if you go to war,  
both sides have already lost. Though sometimes . . . there is no  
choice."

Romana chuckled with dark humor. "I'd drink to that . . . if I had  
some wine."

"Which brings up a point," Dumbledore said. "Have you given some  
thought to how long you intend to stay here on Earth and what to do?"

"Does it matter?" Romana asked. He raised an eyebrow and she sighed.  
"I suppose it does. It will be at least fifty years before the  
materials I need will even begin to be available."

"As I said, I owe you a debt of gratitude and I suspect there is much  
about Earth you aren't familiar with. I can help you with that."

----------------------

At breakfast the next morning, Janet announced that it was time to  
begin training. "Under most circumstances, you'd be sent to the  
Academy," Janet said as she toook some toast. "Unfortunutly, that's  
not an option." She sighed. "I'm not a very good teacher, I'm afraid.  
My classes were never the most popular." She shook her head.  
"Sometimes I wonder what Rassilon was thinking when he said that any  
member of the High Council had to teach a few terms at the Academy."

"Rassilon?" Hermione asked, poking at her eggs.

Janet made a face and sighed. "Gallifrey was much like Earth for most  
of our history. Minor wars with one tribe or another, pollution  
problems, that sort of thing. But then we discovered the Time Vortex  
and how to tap it, to go anywhere in the universe, not to mention use  
it for powering the planet."

"So all your problems disappeared?" Herbert asked, getting up to get  
some tea.

"Some more for me too, dear," Janet replied and handed Herbert her  
cup.  "And no, there was just new ones. It's a portion of our history  
we'd rather forget. With all of Space and Time open to us, we began  
to use it, kidnapping creatures and putting them into an arena to  
fight for our amusement. We would travel all of history, interfering  
and meddling for no reason, other than we could. The wars became even  
worse. Having an infinite, inexhaustible supply of energy meant that  
even more horrible weapons could be used for the wars. Gallifrey  
quickly became a collection  of territories ruled by warlords while  
the masses would be glued to their screens for the latest battle in  
the Arena. It was known as the Dark Age. But then, the three most  
powerful warlords of the day, led by Rassilon, banded together and  
created a new age, and a new society."

"Like the American's Martin Luther King," Hermione said.

Janet shook her head. "They were the three most powerful Warlords of  
the day, Hermione, and they didn't get that way by being men of  
peace. The three of them, Rassilon, Omega, and the Other, forced the  
other warlords to obey them by dint of sheer force and terror."

Hermione cocked her head. "The Other?"

"That was what he called himself. Came seemingly out of nowhere with  
an army and allied himself with Rassilon. Thank you, Herbert," Janet  
said, wrapping her hands around the cup. "The three of them forged a  
new society, banished the use of the Arena, forbade the old  
religions, replacing them with science and imposed a ban on meddling  
and infereing with other races. Exploration and study was the way of  
the Time Lords, as we came to be known. The Other vanished as soon as  
the last of the wars came to a halt, Rassilon and Omega continued to  
rule for many years before they too, passed away. Though, there were  
always rumors that Rassilon had discovered the secret to immortality,  
but it was never verified and an examination of his body revealed  
nothing."

Hermione considered this. "The changing faces at point of death," she  
said, with obvious hesitation. "How can we do that?"

Janet spread her hands. "I wish I could tell you," she said. "The  
ability appeared soon after we tapped the Time Vortex, which implies  
a connection, but no one was able to prove it. We call it  
Regeneration. You can do it a total of twelve times, for a total of  
thirteen lives, each one roughly a hundred terran years or so.  
Sometimes two hundred. The combined power of the High Council could  
grant a Time Lord a whole new life cycle, but it was rarely used.  
Only twice, in fact. One more discovered a way to give himself an  
extra life or two, but he was . . . dealt with. He was a singularly  
unpleasant man."

"Oh."

Janet sighed. "I wish the Doctor was here. He was a far better  
teacher than I."

"The Doctor?" Herbert asked as he began to clear the table.

"Another Time Lord," Janet said, wistfully, "and a good friend. We  
traveled together, briefly, before I was recalled by the Council."  
She sighed. "I'd of thought that if anyone else would have survived  
the destruction of Gallifrey, it would be him, but I suppose not."  
Another deep breath. "Right then. Hermione, your father and I have a  
full day at the office, but there is no reason you can't begin your  
education. Come with me."

Janet led the way into the living room and handed them each a  
necklace, the same as the one she wore.

"This key is the only way to get in here unless it materializes  
around you. Never take it off unless you're entering, always lock  
when you leave, and never give it to anyone else, not even to hold.  
It would be best, in fact, not to even show it off." Herbert and  
Hermione nodded and slipped the necklaces around their necks. Janet  
nodded and unlocked the doors and gestured for them to follow her  
inside. Once inside, Herbert started.

"How . . ." he asked.

"Its called a TARDIS," Janet said. "Time and Relative Dimensions in  
Space. The outside is mallable and can change shape to suit its  
surroundings and blend in. The inside is roughly the size of a small  
city. Everything a Time Lord might need or collect, can be stored in  
here. Few things can penetrate its shell, and it has some will of its  
own, forming a telepathic bond to its Time Lord, and to a degree,  
anybody the Time Lord travels with or whom spend a signifigant amount  
of time inside its walls. So long as the Time Lord is alive, you will  
be able to communicate in any language, written or spoken. But will  
take some time. Until then, we'll start with Akados, their language  
is close enough to English that it should be legible almost  
immediately." She indicated a lever on the console. "This is the  
interior door control. Up to open, down to close. Now follow me.

Bemused, Herbert and Hermione followed Janet down through the halls  
to the Library.

It was a two floor room with a staircase at the far end, opposite the  
door. In the side of the staircase was some sort of computer console  
and the left wall had a fireplace with a pair of large, very  
comfortable chairs. There was also some tables with chairs, clearly  
meant for study, but the rest of the room was filled with shelves  
upon shelves of books.

Herbert glanced at Hermione's eyes and saw her eyes were wide with  
rapture. He could almost imagine that the Choir Invisible was singing  
hallelujahs in her mind.

"The efforts of the Time Lords led to the gathering of all the  
knowledge in the universe," Janet told them. "The Grand Library on  
Gallifrey wasn't even on Gallifrey, but rather a stack of rings  
around our sun." Her lips quirked in a smile. "Even so, it was  
getting rather crowded in there. Every TARDIS had some of the  
contents of the Grand Library on board, but it was mostly empty,  
since every Time Lord has their own preferences. The console allows  
you to access  the Grand Library, as well as the onboard catalouge."  
Her lips compressed into a thin line. "I lost most of what I had in  
the crash, and without repairs to the com system, I can't access the  
Grand Library to replace them, assuming its still there, of course.  
Still, Hermione, you should be able to find something to your tastes  
in here. Your Father and I should be back around six, and we'll go out."

"Okay," Hermione said, already drifting towards the nearest bookshelf.

Janet nodded to herself. "Come on, Herbert, let's leave Hermione to  
her study."

Herbert nodded and they exited the TARDIS and went into the Granger  
living room. Janet locked the door and they went into their bedroom.  
Janet, being still in her nightclothes, began to strip. As she set  
her nightgown aside, she heard a nolse from Herbert.

"What?" She demanded. Herbert was standing by the bed, looking at her  
with an odd look on his face. "What?" She demanded again.

"When I first laid eyes on you on that bus," he said softly, "I  
thought you were special. On our first night, I knew."

"Knew what?"

He came over and embraced her. "Perfection. You are the most  
beautiful thing in the universe to me. I began saving for a ring the  
next morning. You were the one person I wanted to spend the rest of  
my life growing old with."

Something passed across her face and then she touched his cheek.  
"It's not that simple, Herbert. I'm a Time Lord. I don't age, I  
regenerate. Don't you see? You can grow old with me, but I can't grow  
old with you. One day, I will change. Maybe because its time, maybe  
because of a car accident, or a plane crash, or one of a thousand  
other causes. When that happens, I won't be the same person. Maybe  
someone you can't love."

"But Janet, I--" Herbert began and she pressed her finger to his lips.

"Herbert, I love you, I love you with all my heart and soul, but I'm  
not human. This is my fourth life and each one has been different.  
Certain core aspects remain, but every life has her own likes and  
dislikes, loves and hates. I'm an alien. There are fundamental  
differences between us that no amount of love can bridge because  
there's just nothing in common."

"I understand that, but --"

"No," she said, shaking her head, "you don't. On an intellectual  
level, yes. But on a deeper level, an emotional one, no matter how  
hard you try, you don't. You can't. It's cultural, it's thought  
process. It's body language. That's why I was so afraid to tell you  
all these years. Sooner or later, those differences will wear you  
down, and you'll leave, because you just can't handle it."

Herbert kissed her. "Are you done being silly?" he demanded. She  
stared at him. "Jan, if these differences were as vast as you think,  
we wouldn't have lasted for twenty years. I admit it, this is all is  
going to take some time to get used to, but if we were going to  
split, we'd have done it by now. Romana, Janet, Time Lord, Human.  
None of that matters. You're the woman I love and nothing will change  
that. Nothing can change that. And whoever you become, I'll love her  
too. Because she's you."

Janet kissed him. 'But what if she doesn't love you back?' she  
thought. Out loud, she tugged his ear. "You know, we can be a little  
late," she told him. One of his eyebrows rose. "The Delvians practice  
something called the Fourth Sensation," she said and pushed him onto  
the bed. "Why don't I demonstrate?"

"Minutes later, as they moved together, Janet allowed herself to  
dwell on it one last time. 'Until Death do us part. For both our  
sakes, Herbert, I hope its yours.'

-----------------------------

Herbert had no surgeries scheduled until the afternoon, so he spent  
the time in the office handling business. Ordering supplies, payroll,  
inventory, and doing the books.

Janet had several paitents, mostly cleanings, though she almost  
groaned when she saw that she had the Tylers coming in. Pete and  
Jackie Tyler were blue collars, and nice enough, but Jackie was a  
compulsive talker. Even worse after Pete's death a few months ago.  
Jackie wasn't a bad person, but Janet infinitely preffered Pete. He'd  
simply sit there and held their daughter Rose's hand. Jackie, on the  
other hand, kept up an endless stream of gossip. It was entertaining,  
but Janet preffered quiet to work. You can't pick really your  
paitents, or so she'd been told by a dentist she'd interned with, and  
Janet had taken the words to heart.

Now she smiled as she entered into the lobby and greeted Jackie and  
Rose. They rose, but as Janet turned to lead them into the  
examination room, Rose tugged on her mother's sweater. "Mum," she  
said, "you promised."

"Oh, all right," Jackie said, "but you mind Doctor Granger, won't  
you?" Rose nodded. Jackie looked up at Janet. "She's decided she  
needs to be grown up for me, since Pete's gone," Jackie explained,  
"and grown ups don't have their parents with them when they see the  
dentist."

"No," Janet agreed and smiled at Rose, "they certainly don't. That's  
very grown up of you." The little girl beamed. Janet took Rose's  
hand. "Now why don't we go look at those teeth?"

Once back in the office, Janet helped Rose get into the chair and  
then sat on the stool/. "So, Rose, how's your teeth?"

"I brush them every day," Rose declared. "But one fell out anyway.  
See?" She opened her mouth to prove it and Janet obligingly took a  
look inside.

"Very nice," Janet said. "And I see another one coming in."

"Mum says it's nachorul." She pointed at another one. "And this one  
is loose."

"Well then," Janet said, and pulled on the gloves. "I'll be very  
careful."

When the exam was over, Janet escorted Rose back to the lobby. "All  
seems well," Janet said to Jackie, "though there's a few trouble  
spots that have me a little concerned. I'd like you to bring her  
in . . ." she consulted the schedule. "Two weeks to talk with Herbert  
about braces."

"Oh, that's going to be a bit pricey," Jackie worried. "Pete never  
liked braces, thought they were poncy and all." She shook her head.  
"We always butted heads over that, you know. I still wake up and  
think he might be there and it was all a bad dream. If it weren't for  
Rose, I couldn't go on."

Janet nodded. "We all need something to live for."

"Thank God for the two Angels," Jackie said. "Saved her life, they did."

"Angels?" Janet asked.

"Well that's what Rose calls them. Some man and woman who pulled her  
out of the path of the car. She claims they were Angels, even said  
the woman's name was Rose, just like hers. Never stayed around after  
the accident, though, wish they had."

For a moment, just a moment, Janet felt a wild hope and then quickly  
sqaushed it. If that had been the Doctor, he would have picked up the  
distress signal. Since he clearly hadn't, it wasn't.

"Some people don't want to be thanked for good deeds," Janet said.  
"The reward is in the doing, not the thanking."

"Oh, I suppose you're right," Jackie said and wrote the cheque.  
"Still would have at least liked to buy them a round at Companion  
House. Pete always said that the best way to thank someone was to buy  
them a beer."

Janet had to smile at that. "Herbert occasionally says the same  
thing." Jackie and Rose left and Janet turned to her next paitent.

---------------------

It was around late July when Hermione began to take an interest in  
technical matters. She'd quickly exhausted the contents of the  
library, and Janet had been teaching her to control her new powers,  
but there was only so much she could do without access to the  
Academy, so Hermione's curiousity was a welcome relief.

They started with basic temporal navigation and went on from there.  
Janet dug the plans out from the Library, and they began to go  
through the TARDIS' systems, piece by piece. As turned out, there was  
a few things Janet had missed during her original repair efforts and  
so they'd been dealing with those as they found them.

"This isn't right," Hermione said at one point as they were studying  
the comlink.

"What?" Janet said.

"This cable's loose," Hermione said. Janet shined her light into the  
open space and groaned. It was the carrier cable from the transmitter  
to the Chronos Array. The distress signal had never left the TARDIS.  
Janet could have cried. She wanted to cry. She was probably about to  
cry.

With her usual pragmatisim, Hermione plugged in the cable and then  
duct taped it in place. "Why are you doing that?" Janet asked.

Hermione shrugged. "If a thing's worth doing, its worth doing well.  
That, and I want a word with Salazar Sytherin someday. The TARDIS has  
to be repaired for that."

"Another wizard?" Janet asked.

"One of the founders of Hogwarts. Harry was almost sorted into  
Slytherin House by the Sorting Hat."

Janet blinked. Her few trips to Diagon Alley had always left her  
feeling as though she had stepped into a children's book. "Oh."

At that moment, Herbert poked his head into the room. "Sorry to  
inturupt, Jan, but the oddest thing just happened. Chap showed up in  
the back yard in a big blue box. Says he's the Doctor. Wasn't that  
the fellow you --"

Janet bolted past him and into the cooridoor.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you father?" Hermione asked.

"Twenty years is a long time, Hermione," Herbert replied, "and yes, I  
did."

They ran after Janet.

----------------------

Janet burst onto the bridge, leapt nimbly around the console and all  
but exploded through the doors.

Standing in the Living room was a brown haired man in a brown suit,  
overcoat, and trainers. He was examining some of Herberts trinkets.  
The other was a girl, blond haired, wearing non-descript clothing.  
She looked vaugely familar.

Janet inhaled through her nose and crossed her arms. "Good Afternoon."

He turned and smiled brightly. "Ah, hello, I'm the Doctor. That  
Herbert fellow said that the Gallifreyen distress signal--"

He broke off as the girl let out a gasp. "Doctor Granger?"

The Doctor looked at her. "You know her?"

"She's my bloody dentist!" The girl exclaimed. "Or was . . . I  
stopped going when I was fifteen." She looked away guiltily.

Now it was Janet's turn to blink. "You're Rose Tyler." She narrowed  
her eyes, aware of Herbert of and Hermione exiting the TARDIS behind  
her. "How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

Janet did the math. Two Thousand and Five. Wryly, she reflected for a  
moment that her paitent yesterday was a much younger Rose.

The Doctor blinked. "A Time Lord as a dentist? Amazing." He grinned  
widely. "So, how did . . . um, I'm sorry, I didn't catch the name."

Janet opened her mouth to dare him to guess her name, but all of a  
sudden, it just didn't matter. Instead, she simply embraced him.

Akwardly, he hugged her back. "I suppose this means we've met  
already," he said.

"Well you did offer to let me arrest you at Arcadia," Janet replied.

"Romana?" He gasped and this time he hugged her tightly. "Romana! I  
can't believe it! Romana, you're alive!"

And then there was much laughter, joy, and a bit of crying.

Reunions are like that.

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