HOW I MET YOUR FATHER

Author's Note: I've been inspired by some of the very quick, Doctor Who versions of How I Met Your Mother and decided to do one of my own. It will follow bits and pieces of the actual series but I hope to put my own twists and plot into it as well. I hope you enjoy it and review. Finally, but most importantly, this is dedicated to TVnut. Happy Birthday hon!

Kids, have I ever told you how I met your Father? Yes, I know you heard it all from Dad, but you haven't heard my side of the story. Don't worry I won't ramble on about all the small points like he did…well okay, it's going to be long! But don't worry, it will be the intermediate version. I'll skip the useless stuff.

Most of it.

Anyway! It all started in the year 2005, I was young, single, and happy in London living with my two best friends Rory Williams, who was training to be a nurse, and Amy Pond, who was teaching drama to children at the time.

Everything had been perfect and then my so called best friend had to ruin it all…

"Will you marry me?"

"Oh Rory!" Rose cried out dramatically, hands on her chest, magazine dropped onto the floor, and tears in her eyes. "How could I deny such a romantic, sweet, proposal! It's just how I always dreamed it would be!"

"Okay, that's enough fooling around," Rory snapped the ring box shut, "just be honest. You think Amy would like it?"

"Of course she will," Rose said with an eye roll as she helped Rory up onto his two feet, she can't have Amy coming home to find her boyfriend on his knee to Rose, it would cause all sorts of trouble…oh all right! Only for like five seconds where Rory would ramble on like an idiot because how could anyone, who has known Amy and Rory, think Rory would cheat on his beloved? Especially with Rose who was like his sister. "How can she not? Especially with that diamond! How on earth did you managed to afford that baby?"

"It was my mother's," Rory flushed lightly.

"Amy's a lucky girl."

"I know I am," Amy said as she stepped through the front door. "But what am I lucky about this time?"

"Oh I don't know," Rose sighed, "you're lucky because you have an awesome best friend like me who is letting you and your delightful boyfriend have the flat all to yourself while she wanders the mean streets of London by herself."

Amy snorted. "Galifrey's with River?" she asked as she stepped into the kitchen to make a cuppa.

"I like to think I have more of a social life than that."

As if to prove Rose wrong, her phone rang and when she answered River's voice echoed out loudly enough for Rory and Amy to hear. "Rose, sweetie! Dump the boring couple and hang out at Galifrey's with me. Slut up!"

"Yeah," Rory grinned, "I can totally see that your social life is glittering with variation and excitement."

"Oh shut up!"

DWDWDWDW

"Poor Amy," River sighed, as Chris the barman served them their drinks, "stuck in the last legal form of slavery, forced to obey Rory's whim, cook, clean, and pop out babies."

"It's not the nineteenth century," Rose snorted.

"Don't get clever with me sweetie!" River snapped lightly, "You and I both know that our gender goes weak at the knees for some lovin'. Once in love and bound by our vows we become stupid, slaves to the man, while they sit on their backside watching football and drinking beer."

"I don't know what marriage you witnessed but my parents were nothing the like," Rose rolled her eyes, "if any of them was a slave to the other I would say it was my Dad."

"Yes but that's one marriage," River asserted, "having gone from foster home to foster home I've seen hundreds and they were all the same."

"Are you saying Rory is just like any other bloke, then?"

"Okay fine," River rolled her eyes as if Rose was being the irrational one, "Amy isn't likely to be a slave to Rory, it would definitely be the other way round-"

"Definitely."

"- but, let me finish Tyler, you and I both know that being single is better. After all the only real bonus of being in a couple," she spat out the word couple as if it was a dirty word, "is being able to have sex any time you want. But where is the fun of that, when you can dress up, look gorgeous, go to a bar and drink some good cocktails, and pull a gorgeous bloke?"

"But I don't want that!" Rose moaned. "I'm sick and tired of the same guys night after night, and no one to hold my hand during the good and bad stuff, no one who would carry me to bed if I fall asleep on the sofa, or buy me flowers because he can…I want someone I can travel with, settle down somewhere and have lots of children with one day. It doesn't have to be now after all Amy and Rory have dated for nine years before they got engaged, but seriously, and honestly, when is it going to be my turn?"

"Oh sweetie," River purred, "you poor, poor little deluded romantic."

It was very likely that your Aunt River ranted on about how romance was truly dead, and never really lived to begin with, as she did almost every other night we were at Galifrey's Bar, but I wasn't listening. I didn't hear a single word because right then I had turned my head and saw him. The most beautiful man alive, like he had walked off a Hollywood movie set and come straight in here, and he was smiling at me.

"…And why haven't you slutted up?" River continued annoyed. "When I tell you to slut up you should slut up. How many times do I have to tell you, when you're out on the pull do it in a that makes you look good….and cheap because that always surprises guys when it turns out you have a brain."

"Hey, River," Rose said, "See that guy? I think-"

"Ooh, that one?" River squealed quietly. "He's dreamy."

"Yeah…I just think-"

"Hey! Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaave you met Rose?"

It was then when Rose found herself face full of manly chest, and the scent of very expensive cologne filled her nose , as strong hands grabbed hold of her hips gently as this man steadied her back onto her feet.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, um, yeah," Rose mumbled, "sorry. Overzealous friend."

"I don't mind," the man laughed, he stepped back from Rose and she was suddenly overwhelmed at how bloody gorgeous this man was. "Hello."

"Hello."

"Hello."

River gagged loudly behind them which snapped Rose back into reality. "Now then, don't start that, or we'll be here all day," Rose said flirtatiously, "I'm Rose. Rose Tyler."

"Jack," Jack said as he held his hand out, "Jack Harkness."

"Nice to meet you."

She went to shake his hand when he suddenly turned her hand around and brushed his lips against her knuckles. "Charmed," he said huskily. She swooned. Just a little bit, she really did.

They talked briefly, not that she could remember what had been said as his beautiful blue eyes seemed to penetrate her soul, and his scent was slowly driving her mad. He was someone she had dreamed of, and it seemed unbelievable that he was real.

"Woo-would you," she stuttered and then coughed to clear her throat, "consider going out for dinner with me next week?"

"Ooh," Jack grimaced, "sorry I'm at a work conference all week next week."

It took a lot of courage, because Lord knows he could so easily be rejecting her as nicely as possible, but Rose managed to gather it all to ask again. "What about tomorrow?"

Jack blinked his beautifully blue eyes and then grinned. "Tomorrow night it is!" he declared loudly. Suddenly a loud shout, followed by an equally loud cracking noise, echoed across the bar and Jack winced. "It appears my friend has irritated your friend."

"Don't worry," Rose smiled, "she'll find someone new in five minutes."

They laughed, talked a bit more before Jack's friend (who was sporting a bright red mark on his cheek) came up sulkily, and after Jack made arrangements with Rose for their date, the pair left. River disappeared with some random good looking guy, Rose headed back upstairs (yes she lived on top of a bar, coolest flat ever!) elated and feeling more optimistic about her love life than she had for years.

She was greeted unfortunately by the sight of Rory's trousers screwed up on the rug, and Amy's bra on her door knob. Well it certainly looks like someone was getting married soon. "Headphones," Rose muttered to herself, "headphones, headphones, where art thou headphones?"

DWDWDWDW

It was the best date ever.

Well, okay, not really. It was the perfect date. How I, and all other girls out there, dreamed it to be. It was in a beautiful little restaurant, the food was great, there was candles, they were playing one of Glenn Miller's most romantic songs, and he had been the utter gentleman. It was perfect.

In comparison to my futures dates though it was utterly boring.

"So…"

"So…"

"Hello."

"Hello."

"Hello."

"Please don't start that again," Rose laughed, "or we'll be here all night."

"Perhaps that's my plan," Jack smirked as he waggled his eyebrows comically, "to keep you all to myself."

Rose blushed lightly and smiled warmly back at him. He was incredibly romantic, just as she had hoped. "So what do you do?" she asked as she took a sip of her wine.

"Oh a bit of this, a bit of that," Jack said dismissively, "I'm an executive for Torchwood but that's just a posh way of saying errand boy half the time."

"Oh I know how that feels," Rose bemoaned happily, "I've finally moved up in the world from intern to junior architect for my company, and there is no difference. I'm still making all the coffee in the office. Regular dinner lady, me."

"You're sexier than all my school dinner ladies," Jack chimed in sweetly.

They laughed again, and before Rose knew it, the night flew away. Jack liked to dance, as she did, he loved to sing and karaoke was one of his drunken fun times just as she does, he loved romance and people, he liked the same TV Shows, the same films, and a couple books ("I'm not really that much of a big reader," he confessed. "Doesn't matter," Rose shrugged, "neither am I."), he was all in all the perfect guy.

"Urgh, I can't stand olives," Jack groaned as he flicked them off his meal, "they're so disgusting."

"You don't like olives?" Rose asked astonished and pleased.

"Yeah, why?"

"It's nothing…"

"C'mon, you can tell me anything."

"Well Amy and I have this theory….we call it the Olive Theory."

"Oh?"

"Well you see Rory hates olives, and Amy loves them so she gets to eat his olives…..and that's why they're so….well perfect together." Rose was fairly certain her cheeks were as red as her name at this point. "God it's so stupid," she moaned.

"No, no I don't think it is," he took her hand and she felt that he was giving her a look of pure adoration. This was it, this was the man, and she had found him just like that. Thank you Rory and Amy for getting engaged and allowing her to find this ridiculously wonderful man! "I think it's rather cute." He pulled away, took a sip of his drink, and over the rim of his glass his eyes met hers once again (and once again her heart did a little flutter and her stomach flipped like it had the last dozen or so times). "I have a jar of olives at home."

Those were the magic words.

No seriously, they were.

Before she knew it their bill was paid (by him!), they had skipped desert in favour of coffee at his, and now they were slow dancing to Glenn Miller. Oh Glen Miller! His soft serenading tones made this all the more romantic.

All she could think about now was how fantastic this man was, how romantic, how beautiful, and how he made her feel like nothing but jelly.

They exchanged another one of those looks. The sort of look that acknowledged there was something between them. Something special. It had been the same looks Rory and Amy shared for the all two days before they went on a date.

Jack leaned in slowly, torturously slow, and his lips were mere millimetres from hers, about to place which would have been undoubtedly the perfect kiss ever….

And then Rose just had to open her big fat gob and ruin it all.

"I think I'm in love with you."

DWDWDWDWDW

"How could I be so stupid?"

Rose sat in her favourite booth at Galifrey's, double vodka and coke in front of her, and her three best friends around her as she recounted the night before.

"He's now gone off on a conference thinking I'm some sort of lovesick moron!" she moaned, "Oh God!" she clutched her head as if it was about to explode. "He's going to tell everyone about the nutter if he picked up at the bar, isn't he?"

"Yes," River deadpanned, "ouch! Amy, that was uncalled for."

"No," Amy snapped, her Scottish accent returned fully, "what you said was uncalled for. Rose, sweetie, what you need is the most stupid, moronic, thing I have ever heard a person do."

"How is this helping her?" Rory asked his fiancée.

"But that's what people in love do," Amy finished. She shot Rory a let me finish stupid face glare that she had perfected in the years she had known him. "They do stupid things all the time. Like when Rory tried to serenade me with the help of his roommate."

"Should have never listened to that nutter," Rory blushed a bright red, "how on earth he managed to convince me that whale songs were romantic I will never know."

"I thought it was sweet," Amy said as she rubbed Rory's arm reassuringly, "and you know what? Someday I think Jack will find you sweet too, Rose."

"Yeah?" Rose asked a tiny bit hopeful. "Because I thought I came across like a total nutter desperate for a husband."

"Oh you did," that all too familiar, heart stopping, American drawl came from behind her, "but I thought it was adorable."

"Jack!" Rose exclaimed.

"Whoa," Amy murmured appreciatively, "Rory, I regretfully have to end out engagement so I can tap that."

"Understandable," Rory said.

(As much as he will deny it in the future he too appreciated the beauty that was Jack Harkness.)

"What are you doing here?" Rose asked as she hastily tucked her hair behind her ears, and straightened her top. She looked like a right mess but then again it could so easily be worse than this. "I thought you had a conference to go to."

"I do, and will, taxi is waiting for me outside," Jack grinned as he held up a handbag, "but I wanted to return this first. You forgot it when you ran out last night."

And that kids, is how I met your Uncle Jack.

Well just like your father I have to tell you how I became the woman I was before I met him!

Don't worry it won't be long….

Well not as long as your father's story was.

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