#that first one came to me as soon as the t3 designs came out and i just kept thinking about it which is why its the most finished | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chocolatequeennk · 7 years ago

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Forever and Never Apart, 36/42

Summary: After taking a year to recover from the Master, the Doctor and Rose are ready to travel again. But Time keeps pushing them forward, and instead of going back to their old life, they slowly realise that they’re stepping into a new life. Friends new and old are meeting on the TARDIS, and when the stars start going out, the Doctor and Rose face the biggest change of all: the return of Bad Wolf.

Series 4 with Rose, part 7 of Being to Timelessness; sequel to Taking Time (AO3 | FF.NET | TSP)

Betaed by @lastbluetardis, @rudennotgingr, @jabber-who-key, and @pellaaearien. Thank you so much!

This fills the general Doctor/Rose prompt on @doctorroseprompts

AO3 | FF.NET | TSP

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12 | Ch 13 | Ch 14 | Ch 15 | Ch 16 | Ch 17 | Ch 18 | Ch 19 | Ch 20 | Ch 21 | Ch 22 | Ch 23 | Ch 24 | Ch 25 | Ch 26 | Ch 27 | Ch 28 | Ch 29 | Ch 30 | Ch 31 Ch 32 | Ch 33 | Ch 34 | Ch 35

Chapter Thirty-six: Just a Phone Call Away

There was one very important call Mickey had to make before he could ask control for the shift he wanted. He switched the radio to the private frequency designated for use between himself and Pete.

“Tin Dog to Gemini,” he whispered. “Gemini, come in.”

“This is Gemini,” Pete answered only seconds later. “Have you located the target, Tin Dog?”

“Negative, Gemini. I’m going to T3 to get help from Captain Jack, but I wanted to give you an update first.”

“Understood. Sitrep?”

Mickey looked up at the sky, filled with planets and Dalek ships. He heard a Dalek rolling down the street and ducked behind a trash bin, waiting for it to pass before he answered.

“Not good, Boss. We’ve got Daleks on the ground.”

He heard his boss suck in a breath. Pete had the same nightmares of Daleks and their grating voices as he did. “Understood. Do you need backup before you find the TARDIS?”

“No. Hold your position until you get the all clear from me. As soon as I find the TARDIS, I’ll turn the beacon on so your hopper will lock onto me.”

“Roger that. Gemini out.”

After ending the radio conversation with Pete, Mickey changed it back to the all-comms channel. “Agent Smith calling control. Come in, control.”

He winced when a buzz of static came over the radio first, followed by a voice. “This is control. Go ahead, Agent Smith.”

“Can you lock me onto Torchwood Three in this universe?” he asked. “Straight into their Hub.”

He waited, hearing the faint sound of keys clicking. “Locked and ready for transport.”

Mickey shifted his weapon so it was at his back, hopefully making himself look non-threatening enough that Jack and his team wouldn’t shoot him on sight. “Go.”

Using the dimension cannon as a teleport was a hell of a lot more comfortable than flying through the Void—and a lot faster, too. He held up his hands as he felt himself appear in the Hub.

“Don’t shoot!” he called out.

“What the…” Jack was sitting on the floor ten feet away from where Mickey had materialised, but he jumped to his feet when he heard the new voice. His eyes widened when he saw who had joined them. “Well, if it isn’t Mickey Mouse!”

Mickey grinned at his friend, relieved that he’d made it and avoided being shot. “You can talk, Captain Cheesecake!”

Jack laughed and swept him into a hug. “It’s good to see you—and that’s Beefcake.”

Mickey groaned and pushed away from Jack just as another man cleared his throat. He looked over Jack’s shoulder to find a surprisingly familiar face. “Well, the parallel version of Ianto Jones,” he said, feeling a little off-balance. Even after five years, meeting a parallel version of someone he knew in a different universe threw him.

A perplexed look crossed the Welshman’s face. “You seem to be implying that you’re from a parallel universe, but multiversal theory suggests that if other universes exist, they are completely separate from each other.”

Mickey snorted. “Definitely parallel Ianto. Yeah, that’s the way it’s supposed to be, but when reality starts to fall apart, well, apparently the walls between the universes are the first things to go.”

Jack stepped back and gestured between the two men. “Ianto Jones, meet Mickey Smith. Mickey and I go way back, to my days before Torchwood.”

A string of beeps interrupted the conversation, and then they all heard another voice echo through the Hub, this time coming from the computer monitor.

“This message is of the utmost importance. We haven’t much time... Can anyone hear me?”

A woman Mickey didn’t recognise came out of a dimly-lit alcove and walked to a computer terminal. “Someone’s trying to get in touch.”

“Yeah, and I know that voice,” Mickey said as they all moved closer to the computer.

Harriet Jones held up her ID. “Harriet Jones, former Prime Minister.”

“Yeah, I know who you are,” Mickey and Jack said in unison.

Behind them, Ianto and the woman were whispering to each other, asking how this was even possible. Mickey didn’t have a clue, honestly, but this was the first bit of hope he’d had since he’d heard the Daleks.

The screen went back to static for a moment, then it focused again, only this time it was split into four quarters—one for Harriet, one for Torchwood, one for Sarah Jane Smith, and a fourth that was still static.

“The fourth contact seems to be having some trouble getting through,” Harriet said. “I’ll just boost the signal.”

They waited anxiously, and Mickey blinked a moment later when a gorgeous woman appeared in the fourth quadrant.

“Hello?”

Jack laughed and rocked back on his heels. “Martha Jones. Martha, where are you?”

Martha shifted in her chair. “I guess Project Indigo was more clever than we thought. One second I was in Manhattan, next second…” She gestured at her surroundings. “Maybe Indigo tapped into my mind, because I ended up in the one place that I wanted to be.”

An older woman entered the frame and wrapped her arm around Martha’s neck. “You came home. At the end of the world, you came back to me.”

Martha smiled at the woman Mickey assumed must be her mum, then turned back to the screen. “But then all of a sudden, it’s like the laptop turned itself on.”

“It did,” Harriet confirmed. “That was me. Harriet Jones, former Prime Minister.”

Mickey covered his mouth to hide his laughter. Harriet never had quite gotten used to the idea that people knew who she was.

Humour lit up Martha’s dark eyes, and the shared amusement drew Mickey to her. “Yes, I know who you are,” she said.

“I thought it was about time we all met, given the current crisis. Torchwood, this is Sarah Jane Smith.”

Mickey grinned. “Oh, me and Sarah Jane go way back.”

Sarah Jane smiled. “Not just a tin dog any more, Mickey Smith.” She raised an eyebrow. “But Rose and the Doctor told me you were in a parallel universe.”

Mickey nodded. “Past tense. I came back to find them when the stars started going out.”

“That’s what we are all here for,” Harriet interrupted. “Though I admit I didn’t expect to find you, Mickey.” She redirected the conversation back to the introductions. “Mickey Smith, friend of Rose Tyler and defender of the Earth at the Battle of Canary Wharf.”

“Rose told me a little about you,” Martha said. “I’m Martha Jones. I travelled with them for about a year.” Her gaze shifted away from him. “But how did you find me?” she asked Harriet.

Harriet smiled. “This, ladies and gentlemen, this is the Subwave Network. A sentient piece of software programmed to seek out anyone and everyone who can help to contact the Doctor and Rose Tyler.”

Fear sliced through Martha. There were Daleks everywhere, certainly monitoring Earth’s communications. Harriet had put a target on all their backs by drawing them together.

Her mum stood up, and Martha leaned forward to whisper into the mic. “What if the Daleks can hear us?”

Harriet shook her head, an eager smile on her face. “No, that’s the beauty of the Subwave. It’s undetectable.”

“And you invented it?” Sarah Jane asked.

“I developed it,” Harriet corrected. “It was created by the Mr. Copper Foundation.”

“Mr. Copper, huh?”

Martha looked at Jack, who was rubbing his jaw.

“I’ll have to tell the Doctor that he kept his word.” Then his expression turned serious. “But what we need right now is a weapon. Martha, back there at UNIT, what, what did they give you? What was that key thing?”

Martha swallowed and held the disk up. She knew at least Harriet would know what the Osterhagen key was; she didn’t know what her opinion of it would be. “The Osterhagen key.”

She found out Harriet’s opinion quickly enough. “That key is not to be used, Dr. Jones. Not under any circumstances.”

“But what is an Osterhagen key?” Jack pressed.

Martha started to answer, but Harriet interrupted. “Forget about the key, and that’s an order. All we need is the Doctor.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow. “Bit backwards, innit, you tracking down the Doctor? After all, he was the one to depose you. I was there, remember?”

Martha gladly accepted the cup of tea her mum brought out and studied Rose’s Mickey. The easy confidence in the way he talked to Harriet didn’t match the stories Rose had told of their growing up years, but she guessed time had changed them both.

Harriet pressed her lips together and nodded once. “Yes you were, Mr. Smith. And I’ve wondered about that for a long time, whether I was wrong. But I stand by my actions to this day, because I knew, I knew that one day, the Earth would be in danger, and the Doctor would fail to appear. I told him so myself, and he didn’t listen.”

The way Harriet framed the Doctor’s actions sounded so unfair to Martha. She didn’t know what the former Prime Minister had done that had led the Doctor to depose her, but she knew he wasn’t staying away today because he just didn’t care.

“But I’ve been trying to find him,” she countered. “I’ve been calling Rose, but I keep getting sent straight to voicemail. And her phone is never outside of range, so there’s definitely something blocking the call.”

Mickey held up a phone of his own. “Yeah, I’m not getting through either,” he agreed. He looked like he wanted to say more, maybe about what Harriet had done before, but after a second of hesitation, he clamped his jaw together and shook his head.

“That’s why we need the Subwave,” Harriet said. “To bring us all together. Combine forces. The Doctor’s secret army.”

And then Martha understood. Because if Harriet didn’t understand the Doctor well enough to know he would never want an army, their falling-out made perfect sense.

Jack’s voice pulled her back to the present. “Wait a minute.” Jack turned and looked at Gwen. “We boost the signal. That’s it. We transmit that telephone number through Torchwood itself, using all the power of the rift…”

“And we’ve got Mr. Smith,” chimed in the teenager standing with Sarah Jane. “He can link up with every telephone exchange on the Earth. He can get the whole world to call the same number, all at the same time. Billions of phones, calling out all at once.”

Jack cackled. “Brilliant. Who’s the kid?”

“That’s my son,” Sarah Jane said proudly.

“Excuse me. Sorry. Sorry. Hello.” Ianto pushed his way past the other Torchwood employees to address Harriet directly. “Ianto Jones. Er, if we start transmitting, then this Subwave Network is going to become visible. I mean, to the Daleks.”

“Yes.” Harriet nodded. “And they’ll trace it back to me. But my life doesn’t matter. Not if it saves the Earth.”

Jack straightened to attention and snapped a salute. “Ma’am.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Martha marvelled as not even a smile cracked Harriet’s stoic demeanour. “But there are people out there dying on the streets. Now, enough of words. Let’s begin.”

Mickey watched Jack and his team jump to action, getting Torchwood ready to transmit a billion phone calls all at once. Jack typed a command into a computer terminal, then leapt back and spun around. “Rift power activated,” he called out.

“All terminals coordinated,” Gwen replied from another computer.

Then she jogged over to a storage bin Ianto had opened. Together, they pulled out a thick cable, which Ianto carried over to the tall column that gave them access to the national grid.

The cable sparked when he plugged it into an open port, and the familiar ‘whoosh’ of electricity slowing down echoed around the hub. “National grid online,” Ianto said. “Giving you everything we’ve got.”

Mickey turned back to the computer screen connecting them with the rest of the Doctor and Rose’s friends. “Sarah Jane, I’ve got Rose’s number when you’re ready.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Thank you, Mickey, but I’ve got her number myself and I’ve already given it to Mr. Smith.”

Mickey blinked. He’d imagined Rose and the Doctor flying around in the TARDIS without any real connection to Earth, but looking around at the group of people all working to help them, that didn’t seem to be the case. He shrugged and stepped back to watch the action. Sarah Jane and her son were talking to Mr. Smith, which was apparently some kind of computer.

“Opening Subwave Network to maximum,” Harriet said.

Sarah Jane stepped back from her computer and pressed her hands together, palm to palm. “Mr. Smith, make that call.”

“Calling Rose Tyler,” a computer voice replied.

“And sending.” Jack turned a dial, and a pulse of energy went up the column, through the ceiling of the Hub where Mickey knew it would continue resonating through the Water Tower, transmitting through the rift itself.

“And now we wait,” he muttered.

oOoOoOoOo

Twenty minutes had passed since Rose had declared that they only had to wait for someone to call them. For the first few minutes, they’d all stared at the phone, sitting on the console, and willed it to ring. Finally, Donna had slumped in dejection and gone around to sit on the stairs. Jenny had joined her, and the Doctor and Rose were on the jump seat.

Rose’s head ached, and she couldn’t tell if it was the constant awareness of time swirling around them, or if her ponytail was a bit too tight. She let her hair down and sighed when the pressure on the back of her scalp disappeared.

The Doctor combed his fingers through her hair, massaging away the sore spots. Are you sure they’re going to call us? he asked as he worked.

Martha called us for the Sontarans, she reminded him as she leaned into his touch. Do you really think she won’t call us for Daleks?

I didn’t think of that.

That’s why you have me. Rose winked at him, then took the strands of hair that liked to fall in her face and clipped them back with a barrette. Her head didn’t ache anymore, but the timelines were still distracting. It was almost…

Her phone rang, the cheerful ringtone bouncing around the cavernous console room while the vibrations had it dancing perilously close to the edge of the console.

“Phone!” the Doctor shouted, scrambling for it and pressing the accept call button. “Martha, is that you?” But instead of a voice, he just heard three beeps, over and over. He recognised it right away—a homing beacon. “It’s a signal.”

Donna looked from the phone to his face. “Can we follow it?”

The Doctor pulled out his stethoscope and pressed the bell to the phone, listening for the signal. “Oh, just watch me.”

Come on come on come on, he begged, not knowing if he was talking to the TARDIS or the universe at large. Timelines were tightening around them, making him itch with the need to do something. And Rose seemed to be sensing something he couldn’t see, which made him even more nervous than usual.

For once, the universe seemed to be listening, because it was only a minute later that he got a solid fix on the signal and was able to punch the coordinates the signal originated from into the TARDIS.

“Got it. Locking on.”

oOoOoOoOo

Jack couldn’t be sure, but the plan seemed to be working. At least, Torchwood’s part was. The power was going out along the rift, just like they’d discussed, and carried in the transmission were millions of phone calls, all trying to find the TARDIS.

He didn’t say it out loud, but the universe must have known he’d mentally broken the rule to avoid any thoughts like, “What could possibly go wrong?” Because just when he dared to feel optimistic about their success, Gwen spoke up.

“Harriet, a saucer’s locked on to your location. They’ve found you.”

“I know. I’m using the Network to mask your transmission. Keep going.”

“Exterminate.”

Everyone winced when they heard the sound of an explosion and shattering glass come over the network. Then they swallowed and worked harder.

“Captain, I’m transferring the Subwave Network to Torchwood,” Harriet said, her voice still absolutely calm. “You’re in charge now. And tell the Doctor from me—he chose his companions well. It’s been an honour.” Jack swallowed hard and offered another salute.

Harriet nodded, then stood up and moved out of range of the camera. In the background, Jack could hear the electric hum of Daleks moving into the house. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mickey reach automatically for the powerful weapon he had strapped to his chest, even though it wouldn’t do Harriet any good.

“Harriet Jones. Former Prime Minister.”

“Yes, we know who you are,” a Dalek replied.

“Oh, you know nothing of any human, and that will be your downfall.”

“Exterminate.”

Jack flinched and tried to ignore the way the top left quadrant of the screen went dark. “All right people, look lively,” he ordered. “Let’s make her proud.”

She was Harriet Jones, former prime minister. He knew who she was, and he would make sure everyone knew what she’d done.

oOoOoOoOo

The TARDIS shuddered and rocked as she followed the signal through the Vortex. When a bit of electrical wiring came loose and sparked a fire, Rose frowned—seeing the console room on fire seemed familiar, somehow. She shook her head and grabbed a fire extinguisher, putting it out and soothing the ship as she went.

The Doctor was watching their progress on the monitor by the navigation panel, and once the flames were under control, Rose joined him. “Where is she taking us?”

“We’re travelling through time,” he hollered over bangs and crashes as more wiring came loose. “One second in the future. The phone call’s pulling us through. Three, two, one.”

Rose watched the external monitor as they followed the signal forward through time. As they got closer, the planets appeared, one by one, until they were in the centre of the arrangement they’d seen at the Shadow Proclamation.

Everyone took a deep breath when the ship stopped rattling, then Jenny jogged over to look over her shoulder. “Twenty-seven planets. We did it!”

Donna was the last to join them. She brightened when she spotted the familiar blue-and-green sphere on the monitor. “And there’s the Earth. But why couldn’t we see them?”

“The entire Medusa Cascade has been put a second out of sync with the rest of the universe,” the Doctor explained. “Perfect hiding place. Tiny little pocket of time. But we found them.”

Feedback squealed and crackled over the monitor, and they all turned around to look at the computer terminal again. “Ooo, ooo, ooo, what’s that?” The Doctor turned a dial slowly. “Hold on, hold on. Some sort of subwave network.”

A moment later, the screen split into four quadrants. They were in the top left corner, with Jack and Mickey in the top right next to them. As soon as the picture resolved, Jack started yelling. “Where the hell have you been? Doctor, it’s the Daleks.”

Rose pointed at the screen. “Look, Doctor. It’s Mickey, just like I told you.”

He waved. “Hey, babe. Long time no see. I’ll explain everything properly when we’re actually together.”

“Right,” the Doctor agreed. “So tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s the Daleks,” Sarah Jane said, echoing Jack. “They’re taking people to their spaceship.”

“It’s not just Dalek Caan,” Martha added.

The Doctor looked at his friends proudly. “Sarah Jane… Who’s that boy?” he muttered, pointing at the teenager standing with Sarah. He moved onto the next group, Jack and his friends. “That must be Torchwood. Oh, they’re brilliant. Look at you all, you clever people.”

“That’s Martha,” Donna said, pointing to the bottom right corner. “And who’s he?” she asked, pointing to the Torchwood frame.

Rose laughed. “That’s Jack.”

Jack leaned towards the monitor, a welcoming grin on his face. “Captain Jack Harkness. I look forward to meeting you face to face, Ginger.”

The Doctor groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

Jack opened his mouth, but before he could protest, like always, that he was just saying hello, the screen went blank. The Doctor reached automatically for the dial, trying to bring it back. A second later, he realised what was happening. “Oh.”

“What happened?” Jenny asked.

He frowned and pounded on the top of the monitor. “There’s another signal coming through. There’s someone else out there. Hello? Can you hear me?”

He was expecting another old friend, the Brig maybe. But the voice that came over the Subwave Network was a gravelly one the Doctor hadn’t heard in centuries. The Doctor stumbled back in shock and reached blindly for Rose’s hand.

“Your voice is different, and yet its arrogance is unchanged.”

Rose took his hand as the static faded into a dark screen. A blue light slowly moved closer to them, and finally, they saw a withered man, sitting in a wheelchair that looked like the bottom half of a Dalek.

“Welcome to my new Empire, Doctor. It is only fitting that you should bear witness to the resurrection and the triumph of Davros, lord and creator of the Dalek race.”

“Oh, my God,” Rose mumbled. She’d seen Davros in the Doctor’s memories, but he was supposed to be dead. How could he be here? The Doctor squeezed her hand painfully, but she didn’t flinch.

“Dad?” Jenny whispered.

Rose looked up at their daughter and quickly shook her head, urging her to stay off screen. She didn’t know if it would be possible to conceal her existence from the Daleks, but she was bloody well going to try.

“Have you nothing to say?” Davros taunted.

Rose moved to stand directly behind the Doctor, putting one hand on his shoulder and looking at the nightmare face on the screen as she tried to reassure her bond mate.

We’re all safe right now, in the TARDIS, she reminded him. I know how horrible it is to see him again, but this is just a message.

That seemed to shake the Doctor out of his stupor. “But you were destroyed. In the very first year of the Time War, at the Gates of Elysium. I saw your command ship fly into the jaws of the Nightmare Child. I tried to save you.”

“But it took one stronger than you,” Davros gloated. “Dalek Caan himself.”

The camera panned over to reveal an open Dalek casing chained to the floor. Tentacles waved as Dalek Caan sang his story to them. “I flew into the wild and fire. I danced and died a thousand times.”

The camera focused back on Davros. “Emergency Temporal Shift took him back into the Time War itself.”

“But that’s impossible,” the Doctor argued. “The entire War is timelocked.”

“And yet he succeeded.” Davros cackled. “Oh, it cost him his mind, but imagine. A single, simple Dalek succeeded where Emperors and Time Lords have failed. A testament, don’t you think, to my remarkable creations?”

“And you made a new race of Daleks,” the Doctor spat out.

“I gave myself to them, quite literally. Each one grown from a cell of my own body.” Davros pulled back his tunic to reveal his bare skeleton, free of flesh.

Rose shuddered when she realised what he meant, but at the same time, she felt a timeline slip into place. This was important, somehow—the fact that the Daleks were identical genetically. She filed the information away and listened to the rest of Davros’ speech.

“New Daleks. True Daleks. I have my children, Doctor. What do you have, now?”

The Doctor’s anger and pain burned brightly, and Rose didn’t try to stop him. Not yet.

“After all this time, everything we saw, everything we lost, I have only one thing to say to you.”

He slowly reached for something on his right, and when Rose realised what he was doing, she grabbed onto the console.

“Bye!” the Doctor shouted as he threw the dematerialisation lever.

The TARDIS spun through the Medusa Cascade, dancing around the planets until she came to the Earth. And on Earth, there was one place she liked to land best, one city that felt the most like home.

“Doctor, Dalek Caan,” Rose whispered as the TARDIS locked onto London. “The last time we saw him, I said… I said he was falling through time. And that it would cost him his mind.”

“I know,” the Doctor bit out. He sighed and pinched his nose. “I know, Rose.”

“But how did I know?”

The Doctor pulled her close. “Does it really matter? You were right. You… you saw this, somehow. And you were right.”

oOoOoOoOo

They say you never hear anything good when you eavesdrop, and listening in on the conversation between the Doctor and the creator of the Daleks certainly didn’t make Jack happy. He’d overheard Sarah Jane’s whispered pleas too—whoever this guy was, his presence was clearly not good news.

The audio cut out when the Doctor shouted his final goodbye at his old adversary, but Jack knew the signal was still transmitting, putting a target on Torchwood’s back. If he was going to get to the Doctor and be any help at all, he had to get out of there before the Daleks found them.

In the eerie silence that filled the Hub, Jack swung his coat around his shoulders and pulled his Vortex Manipulator out of the drawer he’d stashed it in. It had been hard to keep his promise to the Doctor over the last year and not use it to fix every little thing. But right now? Having a teleport? This was why the Doctor had left it operational.

“Jack!”

He spun around and looked at Ianto as he strapped the wristband on.

“Dalek saucer heading for the bay. They’ve found us.”

Jack swallowed hard, but before he could answer, his phone rang. He flipped it open after a quick glance at the caller ID. “What do you need, Martha?”

Martha exhaled loudly in his ear. “Jack. You’ve got a teleport. Can you tell me anything about how it works? I need to use Project Indigo, and I can’t keep hoping it’ll just read my mind.”

Jack nodded. “Open it up. Lift the central panel; there’s a string of numbers that keep changing, right?”

“Yes. And we could work out some of them, but the fourth one over…”

“It keeps oscillating between two numbers.” He looked at his device as he set the coordinates for London. “Should be a four and a nine.”

“Yes!”

“That’s the teleport base code.” He heard her take a sharp breath. “You know how to work it now, don’t you?”

“Yeah, thank you Jack. And good luck.”

“Good luck, Martha Jones.” Jack snapped his phone shut and slid it back into his pocket.

Jack looked at Mickey as he locked his coordinates, making sure nothing could pull him off course. “I’d offer you a ride, Mickey, but something tells me you’ve got your own transportation.”

Mickey nodded. He was already pulling a radio from his belt. “Control, this is Agent Smith. Can you lock onto the TARDIS?”

“Locking onto the TARDIS now, Agent Smith. Good luck.”

“Thanks. And tell Pete I’m turning the beacon on.” Mickey saluted to Jack, then pressed a small button on his waist and disappeared.

Jack took a deep breath and looked back at his team. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was abandoning them, even though he didn’t really have a choice.

“Look, I know the Daleks will be here any minute, but I swear I’m not running away,” he told them. “I’ve got to find the Doctor, but I’m coming back.”

Gwen handed him the most powerful hand-held weapon they had. “Don’t worry about us. Just go.”

“We’ll be fine,” Ianto promised.

Jack winked at him. “You’d better be.” He pressed the button on his teleport, then slung the gun around so he was ready to use it as soon as he landed. A moment later, the Hub disappeared and he was on a London street.

oOoOoOoOo

“Jackie!”

Jackie froze for a moment, then took a deep breath and turned around slowly. She could hear Pete running up the steps, and she kissed the top of Tony’s head while they waited for him to reach them.

The door to the nursery burst open, and he peered inside. “I just got the call. Mickey’s found the TARDIS, and I’m going through to help him.”

He held out his hands, and Jackie set Tony down and let Pete pull her in for a hug. “It’s almost time, love,” he whispered in her ear. “Keep the radio nearby so you hear me call when it’s safe to come through.”

She was glad he couldn’t see her face, because she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the ridiculous notion that she was just going to sit around and wait. She turned her face into his shoulder and nodded.

“I will,” she lied.

Pete kissed her temple, then let her go and scooped Tony up in his arms. Jackie pressed her lips together to hold back tears as he said goodbye to their son. Whatever was happening on the other side of the Void, they both knew Pete might not come back. It was possible he might never see Tony again—no, that they might never see Tony again.

Which is why I have to go, she reminded herself as Pete reluctantly set Tony down. I’ve got two children whose lives are at stake. I can’t just sit here and wait for someone else to save us.

Pete kissed her quickly, then jogged away from the room as if he were afraid he would lose the will to leave if he didn’t move fast.

Jackie picked Tony up as soon as Pete was gone and cuddled him while she paged the nanny. He squirmed in her arms, not appreciating being held when he’d been playing with his trains.

“Wanna play, Mummy!” he finally insisted, kicking his legs slightly.

Jackie pressed a kiss to the top of his head, then put him down just as the nanny entered the room. “Ah, good. You’re here,” she said, walking towards the door. “I have some shopping to do in town. I don’t know how long it will take; I might eat dinner out, depending on how late it gets.”

Ella nodded. “Will I need to feed Tony and put him down tonight?”

“You might. Pete has an important meeting with a few Torchwood officers, so who knows when he’ll be home.”

Ella got down on the floor and started playing with Tony. “Not a problem, Jackie,” she said easily. “Me and Tony will have plenty of fun, won’t we kiddo?” She set up an extra length of track, and Tony cheered and sent his train over it. “Say goodbye to Mummy.”

Tony shot her a bright smile and waved with his free hand. “Bye, Mummy!”

Jackie spun around and left the room before she could burst into tears or change her mind. Her and Pete’s room was next door, and she grabbed a denim jacket before going to Pete’s office.

She trod cautiously, uncertain if he’d left already. If he caught her, he would definitely try to talk her out of her plan.

But the room was empty. Jackie reached into the still-open desk drawer and pulled out the second hopper. For the second time in her life, the yellow button was draped around her neck. She took a deep breath and pressed the button, and the mansion disappeared around her.

Pete landed in the prime universe, poised in a crouch. He hadn’t done much travelling with the hoppers before the Cybermen and the Daleks, but he knew a lower centre of gravity lessened the chances of toppling over.

He blinked into the darkness and adjusted the hold on his weapon. Mickey hadn’t mentioned it was night when they’d talked on the phone. He glanced up at the sky and swore softly; it wasn’t night. There was just no sun to shine its light onto the planet.

The beacon on his hopper flashed, and he knew he was less than a mile away from the TARDIS. He nodded once and started jogging, but he’d only gone a few steps when he heard the whoosh and pop of another hopper.

Pete knew who it was without turning around. “You couldn’t just wait, could you?” he said, resignation his first reaction. “No, of course you couldn’t. You couldn’t trust us to take care of this for you.”

“Well if you’re going to lecture me, at least do me the courtesy of looking at me.”

He turned around slowly and looked at his wife. She was wearing a denim jacket over her shirt, and he realised she must have been ready and waiting to follow after him.

That sent a rush of anger through him, and his hands tightened around his weapon. “You just left Tony behind to come through and do what? Annoy the Daleks to death? Well, you’ll do a bang-up job of that.”

Jackie’s face went pale. “Daleks?”

“Yes. That’s who’s been messing around with reality, making the stars go out. This is dangerous, Jacks.” Pete pulled out his hopper and swore when he saw the red flashing light. “As soon as these recharge, you’re going home.”

Her spine stiffened. “Oi, you listen to me, Peter Alan Tyler. I’ve been married to you twice and I’ve never let you tell me what to do. I know this is dangerous. Why do you think I’m here?”

Pete ground his teeth together. “And what if we both die? Tony will be an orphan. Have you thought of that?”

Jackie planted her hands on her hips. “If we both die, then I reckon it means we failed. And if that happens, Tony is gonna die too, isn’t he?” She glared at him. “I might not have caught everything in that lecture the other night, but I know the stars going out means everything is going to end.”

Pete opened his mouth to argue, but the sound of tires squealing interrupted him. He turned and gestured for Jackie to follow him as he jogged silently towards the noise.

“All human transport is forbidden.”

Pete shuddered at the distinctive voice of a Dalek. A moment later, he heard a woman, clearly frightened.

“I surrender. I’m sorry!”

“Daleks do not accept apologies. You will be exterminated.”

Pete growled softly. He wanted to lie low and get to the TARDIS, but he couldn’t let this woman die. Without looking at his wife, he hefted his weapon and crept carefully out of his hiding place.

oOoOoOoOo

Sarah Jane stared at the map Mr. Smith was displaying. Harriet Jones had been targeted, and now there were Daleks flying directly for Torchwood. They were being picked off, one by one.

Davros’ voice had been straight out of her nightmares. If he was behind this—the stolen planets, everything—then everyone would die if they couldn’t find the Doctor. Martha, Jack, and Mickey were all trying, and maybe one of them would succeed. But she was a companion of the Doctor, too, and she wouldn’t cower at home and hope someone else did the hard work.

“Mr. Smith!” she said, her voice tremulous. “Where is the TARDIS landing?”

The map shifted to focus on a part of London, instead of Cardiff. “TARDIS heading for vector seven,” the computer said. “Grid reference six six five.” She scanned the map and memorised the location, then spun around and ran to the door.

“But there are Daleks out there,” Luke protested as she grabbed her leather coat from where it hung on the wall.

“I know.” She scooped her keys up from the desk. “I’m sorry, but I have got to find the Doctor.” At the door, she turned around and pointed at her son. “Don’t move. Don’t leave the house. Don’t do anything.”

“I will protect the boy, Sarah Jane,” Mr. Smith promised.

Angry desperation welled up in Sarah Jane. If she left, she couldn’t protect Luke, but finding the Doctor was the best way to save him in the long run. Still, she felt her bottom lip wobble as she looked at him. “I love you. Remember that.”

Luke nodded, and she took off down the stairs before she could convince herself to stay. The TARDIS wasn’t far away; she could get there in her car in less than ten minutes.

The tiny car peeled out as she tore around a corner, and then she caught a glint of light off metal, and a shape that she would never forget. She slammed down on the brakes, not wanting to know what kind of special punishment she’d receive if she actually ran over a pair of Daleks.

The Daleks turned slowly until their eyestalks were pointed at her. “All human transport is forbidden.”

Sarah Jane held up her hands. “I surrender. I’m sorry!”

“Daleks do not accept apologies. You will be exterminated.”

“Exterminate. Exterminate.”

Sarah Jane hid her face behind her arms, knowing full well it would do nothing to shield her from the Dalek’s death rays. She thought of Luke, sitting back in their house with Mr. Smith. I’m sorry.

“Exterminate! Exterminate!”

She heard two separate shots from a laser weapon, one right after the other, and flinched instinctively. But instead of feeling searing pain, she heard two explosions. Maybe… She blinked and carefully lowered her arms, and when she saw two smoking Dalek casings, she looked around for her rescuers as she climbed out of the car.

A slight man with thinning strawberry blonde hair holding an enormous gun stood on the right side of her car. Sarah Jane had never seen him before, but she did think she recognised the blonde woman standing a few feet behind him.

She blinked, trying to place the face. “You’re… I know you.”

The woman nodded once, and the fire in her eyes was familiar enough for Sarah Jane to make the connection. But before she could say anything, Jackie introduced herself.

“Jackie Tyler, Rose’s mum. This is my husband Pete.” She stepped forward and put her hands on her hips. “Now where the hell is my daughter?”

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theconservativebrief · 7 years ago

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Sir James Dyson and his eponymous company, best known for its vacuums, have in recent years made waves in the beauty world with the futuristic-looking Dyson hair dryer. While both products are pricey, colorful, hyper-engineered, and interesting to look at, neither is inherently a glamorous item. This week, though, the company one-upped its own showmanship and announced that it will release a Dyson Supersonic hair dryer that’s literally gilded with 23.75-karat gold leaf, which will sell for $499.99.

While the news has not been reported widely yet, people have been receiving word from the company via their inboxes. And they have thoughts. Twitter user @FannyLawren wrote: “Who needs a gold hair dryer? No one. But the Celebrities and Crazy Rich Asians may want it. Good gimmick! @Dyson #MarketingStrategy #luxurylifestyle.” User @kylethepeck was a bit less diplomatic.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my Dyson products, but nothing says “I’m a rich asshole who doesn’t know how to spend my money” like a real gold plated hair dryer. pic.twitter.com/SYkTUBqFtA

— Kyle Peck (@kylethepeck) August 27, 2018

$500 seems an eye-popping sum for a hair tool until you understand that the company’s regular, non-golden hair dryer, which launched in the fall of 2016, costs $399.99. And there’s a version engineered for professional hairstylists that is $449.99.

So how did the market for a luxury-priced golden hair dryer come about? It has to do with savvy marketing, the power of celebrity, and a certain viral photo of a chicken.

An artisan applying gold leaf to a Dyson hair dryer. Dyson

Dyson, which is worth $5.3 billion, is well known in design circles and makes a splash any time it launches a new product because the company is great at dramatic rollouts. But the Dyson hair dryer made a huge impression because the hot hair tool space is a pretty insular market that doesn’t often see new brands. (T3, Conair, GHD, Hot Tools, Chi, Babyliss, and a handful of others dominate.) And because it upended traditional hair dryer design in a way the stalwarts hadn’t.

Instead of the motor being encased on top right near the nozzle, which contributes to the top-heaviness of traditional dryers, Dyson put a small motor in the handle. The nozzle is doughnut-shaped, complete with a hole in the middle, and has a squat, sawed-off feel. This makes the Supersonic dryer lighter, quieter, and more ergonomic — plus it looks like something you’d find in a Star Trek movie.

While the design is new, tricking out the tool in a metallic finish is not. Since there’s very little that can be done to fundamentally change a blow dryer design-wise, companies have long driven sales by changing colors and finishes instead to match whatever is trending in fashion. Metallic finishes have been popular for a few years, especially rose gold — though Dyson might be the first to literally cover the thing in a precious metal.

According to a press release, accompanied by an admittedly fascinating video, Dyson enlisted the help of a traditional guilder, a craft that dates back 4,000 years, to hand-apply 23.75-karat gold leaf — a very specific karat weight chosen by James himself — onto the nozzle. A bright red primer is applied first and then the gold leaf brushed on top, so that when it wears down, the red shows through. The carrying case matches the red primer, and the rest of the dryer is non-gilded royal blue. The whole thing is emblematic of Dyson’s typical messaging: We are extra in everything we do.

Dyson is not the first company to offer ultra-expensive hair dryers, but it is the first that cracked the mainstream in a meaningful way, thanks to the brand’s impression of mystique and its skill in getting its products into the right hands. For several years, Babyliss has offered a hair dryer that boasts a Ferrari motor. In 2010, it cost $400 (versus the more typical $35 to $150 for a regular dryer); now it’s less than $200. But that has always been niche.

Dyson’s biggest pricey competitor since it’s launched has arguably been the Harry Josh dryer. Josh is a well-respected celebrity and fashion hair stylist who’s worked with Vogue and tons of celebrities, including Jennifer Garner and Gwyneth Paltrow. He released his signature mint green dryer in 2013 for $300. At the time, it was lighter and faster than anything on the market, and beloved by pros and beauty editors alike. The original now goes for $249. The brand then released an even lighter version, after the original Dyson launched, that costs $349.

The Harry Josh dryer is still in limited retail distribution, but the Dyson is available more broadly at Sephora, Ulta, Nordstrom, Best Buy, and Bed Bath & Beyond and has spread beyond a small, loyal audience.

Dyson understands the aspirational nature of the beauty industry and has been strategic about getting its tools into the right hands (and heads). Early on, it partnered with hairstylist Jen Atkin, who is the founder of the uber-popular Ouai line of hair care products.

Atkin has 2.5 million Instagram followers, a number she amassed partly because of her famous and social media-savvy clients like Chrissy Teigen and various Kardashian-Jenner and Hadid sisters. She shares pictures of both her clients and the hair dryer frequently. With all the sharing and regramming, as well as the Dyson’s inherent Instagram-friendliness, the dryer soon became well known.

Dyson also partnered with (read: paid) other hairstylists to use the tool on their A-list celebrity clients at high wattage events like the Met Gala and the Golden Globes. This has been a common practice with makeup and hair care brands for years. The brands work with artists, then send the beauty press detailed breakdowns of red-carpet looks, complete with specific product information, which end up in stories like this one and, brands hope, will convince consumers to buy the lipstick that Janelle Monae wore that one time.

It’s less common for tool companies to do this because while you can swipe a lipstick on yourself pretty easily to “get the look,” a red-carpet hairdo requires the expertise of a stylist — the tool isn’t the only consideration. But Dyson did it anyway.

For this year’s Met Gala in May, hairstylists used Dyson dryers on Kim Kardashian West, Rihanna, Cardi B, Kendall Jenner, Bella Hadid, Evan Rachel Wood, and Solange Knowles. At the Golden Globes in January, they were used on Emma Stone, Claire Foy, and Gal Gadot.

Press releases were dutifully sent around after the events. The dryer made it into an Instagram Lady Gaga posted of herself before her performance at the 2017 Super Bowl, though that seems to have been an organic and inadvertent shoutout to the dryer. The brand doesn’t share its sales data, but this surely raised awareness.

The weirdest and most delightful part of the brand’s journey to stardom came in May. Helen Rosner, the New Yorker’s food correspondent, tweeted a picture of herself pointing her Dyson dryer at a raw chicken.

The caption read “Happy snow day, I am using an astonishingly expensive hair dryer to remove all moisture from a chicken to maximize skin crispiness when I roast it.” The image went viral, prompting Rosner to write a full post on the practice to clarify that she was not, in fact, using the dryer to cook the chicken.

As the Verge meticulously documented, a full news cycle ensued. The popular press, food press, and beauty press all covered the story. And Dyson loved the attention:

Engineered to not overheat your hair… or your chicken

— Dyson (@Dyson) March 21, 2018

This is the question everyone asks. In my experience, it really is better, and more comfortable to hold, than every other hair dryer I’ve tried — and I’ve tried a lot because for several years it was my job as a beauty editor to try them. (Disclosure: The brand sent me one for free when it launched two years ago.)

If mine broke, I would absolutely pay full price for another one, and, indeed, I’ve considered buying the white version because I like it better than the fuchsia one I have. But as with any purchase, worth and value are subjective, as Rosner notes.

“The Dyson does what I want it to do — it’s faster and quieter than any other dryer I’ve used, which is important to me, because I worry about hearing loss — and while it wasn’t exactly an impulse purchase, its price didn’t put me in a position of hardship. So for me, it was worth it,” she tells me via email. “But for someone who might have a different relationship with their bank account, it might not be. There are very few things in life that are worth going into debt for, and a hair dryer — even a great one — absolutely isn’t one of them.”

People inherently pass judgment on things used by a traditionally female cohort, especially when it’s perceived to be something for vanity. Lizzie Plaugic pointed this out in her Verge article, and Rosner expounds on it.

“I find it indescribably frustrating that it’s considered frivolous for a person to spend a few hundred dollars to have the best possible version of something that she uses every single day. How many people have a $500 handbag that they’ve only carried half a dozen times, or an $800 camera that only comes out once a year for vacations?” she says. “Even the Dyson vacuum itself is considered an aspirational product — something people covet! They get excited about it! And it’s even more expensive than the hair dryer! It’s an inconsistency that speaks to the fundamental way we discredit and devalue women’s aesthetic care.”

Dyson himself is absolutely unapologetic about the price point. He once told me in an interview, “I don’t design down to a price. I design what I think is a good product that will last. Of course, that’s not a very commercial attitude because it costs rather a lot to make.”

Covering the dryer in gold doesn’t affect how it works; it’s merely gilding the lily (or the hair tool, in this case). Still, for a product whose rise has relied so heavily on social media, that extra certainly can’t hurt.

Original Source -> Dyson’s new $500 golden hair dryer, explained

via The Conservative Brief

#IFTTT #The Conservative Brief

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