Doctor Who - 03 - The August Sky

.4. Angels and Weevils

A black SUV turned on a long driveway and came to a sudden halt, shingle crunching under its massive tyres. Rain drops on its windscreen sparkled in rays of setting sun, breaking through a rift between a hilltop and a ridge of storm clouds. A creature, standing a few steps away from the vehicle's bonnet, tilted its head, as if listening to something. Its dark, sunken eyes stared at the SUV with ghastly pungency. Its lips moved slightly upwards, baring predator's fangs.

"Come to daddy, love," Jack said quietly, letting go of the steering wheel and reaching for the anti-weevil spray.

Gwen shrugged, wrenched her eyes away from the creature and glanced at Harkness with deepest dismay. "Disgusting."

"No more than the others," Jack snorted.

"Not the Weevil. What you've just said. That was disgusting. Where did it come from? Come to daddy?"

Jack bridled up. "Are we going to discuss my punch-lines now?"

"Punch-lines?" Gwen moaned.

"Jests. Witty remarks. Caustic comments."

Ianto leaned forward from the back seat of the SUV. "They're my job, anyway," he noted. "It went left."

"What?"

"The Weevil. Left. In between a witty remark and a caustic comment."

Gwen rolled her eyes.

"Do we know what's there?" Jack asked, pretending to be calm.

"Mickey coordinates," Ianto answered. "So – no."

"When did he lose us?"

"About fifteen minutes ago, when we turned right at the lights."

"Can somebody remind me why do we keep him?"

There was a momentary silence.

"Riiiight," Gwen said finally. "Are we going?"

"You're staying in the car."

"You're not going to tell me where to go and where to stay, Jack!"

"So maybe I'll call Rhys and get his opinion?"

"Rhys won't be telling me what to do either!"

"Considering the fact that he's a father to your unborn child, he should have his say, don't you think?"

"Do I, as a mother to my unborn child, have my say about anything at all?"

"No."

"No, is it?"

"Do we still want to catch that Weevil?" Ianto asked.

"Yes!" Gwen and Jack yelled at him, swivelling in their seats.

The woman shook back her mane of her thick, dark hair, opened the door and lightly jumped down onto the gravel.

"Gwen!" There was a warning in Jack's voice.

She unzipped her short jacket and reached to a holster underneath.

"Gwen!" Jack repeated, the warning in his voice even more urgent. "I'm not joking!"

"That's the problem," she said, producing a gun.

"Real problems start when he tries to joke," Ianto corrected, getting out of the SUV as well.

"Et tu, Brute?" Jack could only follow them, the anti-weevil spray in one hand and the revolver in the other. "I remember how it used to be," he growled. "Nobody questioned me; you'd go, where I wanted you to go. And now everybody wants to be a boss. I have to deal with a police-woman, constantly pissed off because of her morning sickness; a hysterical daddy-to-be; a bloody loudmouth in a suit; a doctor too cute to be yelled at; and a council estate boy. I'm starting to feel out of place."