Picking Roses
Rose Hannah Tyler was having a perfectly ordinary morning – even if it was, technically, afternoon. She never did get up before noon, anyway; one of the many parts of her chosen profession that put her at odds with the rest of society. Her client the night before had kept her up till almost dawn with his games and toys. She stretched and smiled – even though he always gave her a hell of a workout, he was still one of her favorites. Kept her on her toes – literally. And of course, he paid quite handsomely and without complaint – another huge plus.
A long hot shower took care of the residual twinges, and she threw on some grungies and sauntered out the door, leaving "Belle" behind for the afternoon. Stopping in at her favorite coffee shop for a cuppa and a pastry, she then decided to go spend some of that money on a new outfit at that ritzy seconds shop she'd discovered last week. During the two block walk, she made numerous sudden stops at shop windows to confirm: yes, the guy who'd been loitering across the street from her flat was definitely following her. Okay, that was out of the ordinary. Was it a private detective, hired by a client's suspicious wife? Probably. Well, let's make him earn his pay today.
She made a split-second turn into a noisy urban clothing store blaring hip-hop on the speakers and dashed through the racks to the rear, slipping out the back door into the alley just as her shadow entered the front, looking completely out of place in his odd suit. She grinned as she ducked behind the door and slipped down to the side street, turning right again. It would take her further from her destination, but she had plenty of time, and she wanted to play with the P.I.
Half an hour later, with no sign of him, she at last turned into the block where the shop was – and literally ran right into him. He grinned and grabbed her arm with one large paw.
"Rose Tyler?" he asked.
Taken completely by surprise, she stopped trying to jerk her arm back and stared. Who on earth knew her by that name? When she wasn't Belle, she was Hannah.
Taking her staring as confirmation, the man nodded, then used his free hand to jab a button on the bulky wristwatch on the arm holding hers. And Rose's day took a decided turn for the non-ordinary, as the world was snatched away from her in a blaze of light.
^..^
Rose Tyler was having a perfectly ordinary morning. She struggled out of bed at seven to the alarm, and was halfway through her hurried shower before remembering that today was Tuesday, and her classes didn't start until ten, and she'd forgotten to set the alarm back the night before. Again.
Oh, well, she was up now. She finished her shower – at a more leisurely pace – and decided to splurge and have breakfast at Starbright's, that new bakery-and-coffee shop down the street, and see if the worldwide chain deserved its reputation. Sorting through her stacks of textbooks and folders to make sure she had the right ones, she stuffed them into her book bag and let herself out the flat door, not noticing the man across the street peering at her over his newspaper.
Halfway down the block, she heard the footsteps behind her, and glanced back. A big, hulking guy in an odd-looking jacket, two steps back, grinned at her. "Rose Tyler?" he asked, with the air of someone trying to be friendly and non-threatening when his usual M.O. was anything but.
She stopped walking and faced him, keeping an escape route open behind the bus stop shelter. "Do I know you?" she replied warily.
He pointed at the book bag on her back. "You're about to lose something there."
Automatically glancing behind her, even though she knew it for a distraction, she cursed herself as he instantly turned the point into a grab, and had a hold of her arm. Before she could twist out of his grasp, he slapped his watch with his free hand, and the world melted away, then reformed in a new configuration. Shocked witless, dizzy and suddenly nauseous, she stared around her at the utterly unfamiliar surroundings: an urban portside square. How had they gotten here? The man now was talking to someone through a mobile phone, but before she could gather her wits to demand what was going on, he tightened his hold on her arm and it happened again, another trip through a psychedelic rabbit hole.
^..^
Rose Tyler was having a perfectly ordinary morning – well, as ordinary as your wedding day morning can be, especially with a Mum like Jackie.
She and Jared had FINALLY convinced Jackie that they were NOT going to have a big splash at the Tyler mansion (because they quite simply knew almost nobody in Beta World even after two years), by dint of threatening to hold their preferred quiet, private ceremony without inviting her. That had shut her up, and (after a whole two week's wounded silence) she calmly called to ask if there was anything she could do to help.
"No, Mum, but thanks! We've got it covered!" They really were doing it simple – a late morning ceremony at the Registrar's office, then noon dinner at the Tragenna Castle Hotel with all their guests – all twelve of them – before boarding the zeppelin for their honeymoon cruise to and around Ireland – Pete's wedding gift. There was nothing to be done but make the appropriate reservations and write their vows. Rose did relent and let Jackie take her shopping for her wedding dress, though she insisted it also be tasteful and simple – and inexpensive. She never had understood the idea of spending several hundred or a couple of thousand pounds on a dress that would only be worn once – and Jared was in complete agreement on that accord, even if Pete was footing the bill.
Pete, Jackie and little Tony had come down to St Ives on the train from London the day before, along with a couple of the London Torchwood crew that Rose had gotten to know well enough to invite (including Jake, up from Paris with his French ladyfriend). They were all staying at the Castle, while the three Torchwood techs who lived in St Ives and worked on the Dimension Cannon with Rose were of course bringing their dates.
Tock had woken the couple up at his usual dawn hour, wanting to go for a romp on the beach. They made him wait for both a romantic interlude and breakfast in bed, then relented and took him down the stairs. An hour later, a thoroughly wet and sandy dog was happily leading his humans back across the strand, dashing up to a strange man in street clothes below their balcony to sniff and noisily greet him.
Instead, his humans were startled and immediately wary when Tock stiffened and began growling at the stranger. He almost never reacted that way; he was the friendliest pooch in St Ives, known to all the residents.
"Can I help you?" Jared asked him, but the stranger simply shook his head, backing up another pace from the menacing dog. Jared whistled Tock off, and they turned to go around the side of their house to the front door. Rose paused at the step to lean over and try to brush some of the sand off her legs and bare feet, while Jared opened the door for the bounding dog. Tock bounced in and turned – and started barking again, a sharp, angry warning. Jared whirled around just in time to see the stranger throw his arms around Rose and stab a finger at the Time Jumper on his wrist, and the two of them disappeared in a flash of light, an instant before Tock reached them, launching himself off the steps and sailing through now empty air to land, bewildered, in the street beyond.
The Time Jump hit Rose's midsection hard, and she collapsed in a boneless heap wherever it was they had bounced to, head spinning, and lost her breakfast. The stranger dropped her with a disgusted snort, and she went on retching until she reached dry heaves. I haven't reacted that way to a Jump in... forever. Why now? flittered through her mind, chased away by another wave of dizziness. She was vaguely aware of the man talking, apparently on a communicator of some kind. "Hang on, she's being sick," he said sourly. "I'm not carrying that back."
When her stomach finally stopped heaving, she started to try to get up, but he forestalled her, grabbing her arm in a painful grasp and giving whoever he'd been talking to the go-ahead. The dingy alley they were in disappeared in another flash of brilliant light, but this time, it didn't hit Rose as hard – or maybe her stomach simply realized it had nothing left to lose.
The space they jumped to this time seemed vaguely familiar to Rose, but she couldn't place it: a vast room with a metal walkway winding up around the brick and concrete sides, jammed with a large collection of machinery, some of it vaguely unEarthly, much of it in various states of disrepair. She waited a moment until her head stopped spinning, then carefully got to her feet, the stranger's hand roughly helping her up.
Then without a word he turned her slightly to face another man, and she caught her breath in unconscious fear. Well over six feet, angular, spring-tight muscles under an expensive tailored black suit, it was his eyes that caught and held her: icy sea-green, they pierced right through her soul.
He let the silence draw out a few seconds before asking, his voice menacingly calm and quiet, "Do you know who I am?"
She didn't need to search her brain; she was quite certain they'd never met. She'd remember instantly if they had. She silently shook her head, unable to look away from his eyes.
"Think back. Not even as a young boy?" He raised his left hand and showed her the large, distinctive birthmark there. Her eyes flickered to it and back to his, then shook her head again.
He gave a tight smile that didn't reach his cold eyes. "Good. Then he got you in time. Take her down to the holding cells with the others." This last to the man holding her, as he turned disdainfully away to bend over the console beside him.
Rose finally tore her eyes from his and looked more closely at the console, then the rest of the apparatus immediately around them. Her eyes widened, but she kept her mouth shut as her arm was jerked again to get her moving. This looks like a Dimension Cannon, but it's not ours. Is this in another parallel? Has someone else invented one? Or... Oh, shit. Is this Jack's lair, in Alpha? Then where's Jack? Her mind kept racing as she was walked down off the platform, through a corridor and down a short flight of stairs. She and Jared had sent Jack Harkness a "superphone" like the one she'd been carrying through their Cannon shortly after their return from Reich World, and he'd said he was beginning to work on a Cannon of his own. This place did seem to resemble the glimpses of his lair at the Cardiff Rift that she'd seen on the TARDIS monitor that awful, glorious day at the Medusa Cascade. But WHEN are we? Where's Jack now?
Then she was thrust through a thick metal door, which clanged shut behind her and the bolt shot home, and all thoughts of the gallant Captain fled, as she stared openmouthed around at six other women already imprisoned there.
Each of whom wore her exact face.