"ALEX!"

Without a doubt, he knew he did not want to leave his bed. Whether or not there was any safety placing their winter duvet between him and his obviously murderous wife, Alex decided he'd rather take the risk. Growling the entire way up the basement steps, Valerie soon busted through the bedroom door to rip the covers off his nakedness. So much for shielding my dignity, he thought.

"Good morning, gorgeous lady. Like what you see?" Valerie gave him a look from hell before revealing an angry scratch up her torso. "Val," Alex stuttered sitting up, "What the hell happened?"

Moving to his side, she slowly peeled her shirt off before instructing him to dig out two ace wraps from their ever-growing first aid supply.

"I'll tell you what happened, you asshole, you left a weevil in the fucking basement again! Why, Alex, do you find it so damn hard to remind me of these things?" She flinched, slapping him rather roughly on the back of the head, as he gingerly tried to clean the wound with a wash cloth.

"I'm so sorry, babe. Your Dad was…busy…last night. I couldn't get into the holding cells. It was my only option." Finally securing her bandages, he helped direct her to bed. While she was use to the usual bland injuries from her rather remarkable job, it never got any better dealing with pain. However, after two years of married life, she found having Alex Keeper was as good of a coping mechanism as she could have. Placing an arm across her chest, he balanced himself on a crooked elbow. Valerie smiled briefly, the huffed a slow breath, revealing she was still completely pissed off.

"You cannot, cannot, cannot use our home as a holding cell. For anything. Ever. Okay?" Alex gave a Cheshire grin and agreed with a short kiss. Rolling over, he headed towards their joint bathroom. Perching herself up, Valerie felt the knobs of her spine crackle. She soon settled into making plans as to how to remove an adult sized alien from her suburban home and exactly how she was going to explain to her father the two hundred dollar upholstery bill he would be receiving for her carpet. While there was never a shortage of funding thanks to her parent, she did admit to taking advantage of his long-earned wealth. Upon that note, it reminded her to also discuss with Alex about adding on more health insurance or taking a vacation to Tuscany. She already knew which one would be chosen.

Returning from the shower, Alex began slipping on this work clothes. Valerie took the cue to get ready herself. Sliding out of her pajamas and into some jeans, she began rethinking Alex's explanation of their downstairs intruder.

"What exactly did you mean by Dad was busy?" Alex shook his head for a minute before blushing.

"Come on, Val. You know your Dad, he's got that flirty thing going with the guys…and gals…and well, anything else really." Allowing Alex to help her slide her arms through a thin sweater, she paused.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. You're telling me because my father decided to use our office as his fuck pad, I was almost disemboweled in what I would like to think of as my future children's playroom slash our fuck pad?" Alex gave her a blank stare.

"You know, as my wife I have the right to say, you are incredibly disturbing, but also correct in this case. Don't be so hard on him, babe. He's a lonely guy. We've got each other, Gwen and Rhys have Anwen, allow your old man the occasional late nighter." Alex slowly hooked his fingers to the curve of Valerie's waist. Her head fell softly backwards, finding the crook she claimed as her own in his neck. Carefully avoiding her bandages, he cupped the base of her breasts. His clover green eyes gave her a wink, while their matching charcoal hair melted into one another with a backwards kiss. While her own eyes, the color of rust, explored new, unblemished places around their room to desecrate with a quickie, she felt the prickles of stretched, flayed skin on her side. Frustrated, she turned around.

"That's just it though, Alex. He is an old man. Old enough to know better. For all the lives he's lived, he still makes the same mistakes. I love him, Christ knows I do, but this is not acceptable. I'm giving him a call." Shuffling over to her cell, Alex tried to intercede, failing and receiving a sharp pinch to his chest. The dial tone steadily hummed, while Valerie realized she was unsure how angry she would appear to be. Finally, a click on the other end signaled an answer.

"There she is, my darling girl. Exactly where are you this morning? You're fashionably late days ended when you turned eighteen, you know."

"Jack Harkness, if you must know, your darling girl had to have her husband dress her this morning thanks to someone's midnight sexcapades." There was a long pause.

"Val, I know you have the being strange thing going for you, but what the hell does that mean, exactly?" Rubbing her temples, she sat down on the edge of the bed, winking at Alex as he put her boots on for her.

"It means Alex had to use our basement to hold a Weevil last night and when I went downstairs to get another tin of coffee…"

"Shit."

"Yeah. I'm wearing a corset of gauze right now. It got me from my pelvis to my chest." She heard Jack rustle some papers around on his desk, an obvious sign his attention was elsewhere.

"You know I'm sorry, sweetie, but Alex was more than welcome to swing by and drop off his capture."

"Yeah, well, maybe he wasn't entirely comfortable walking in to you bending over some twink on our conference table." Jack's soft chuckle instinctively made her own smile appear. Pulling back her long hair, she let out a tight sigh. Jack paused.

"Val, do you need the day off? Are you ok?" She wanted nothing more than to say yes, she needed the day off for several reasons. Since she began working at the revised Torchwood, everything from laundry to potty training the puppy had fallen behind. Jack's ageless features were a growing strain as she already felt older than him at the mere age of twenty four.

"No, Dad, I'm fine. Just give us some time to get some breakfast and we'll be in, Alex probably before me. I'm going to try and stop at the police station, beg Andy for access to some of the older Torchwood cases. We need hard copies." With the losses still piled from the long before HUB explosion, Valerie had placed herself in charge of archiving. Unfortunately, with most of the tangible evidence burned and buried, it had been less than productive work. She could feel Jack nod understandingly through the phone.

"Take your time, I'll see you in a bit. I am sorry, Valerie. I'll…try to be better in the future." Val felt her shoulders sink a little in guilt. Jack was, at least, trying.

"It's ok, Dad. Be in soon. Love you." She heard Alex shuffling through the car keys. Lying back, Valerie stared intently at her ceiling. At that moment, she would've given anything to be simply, blissfully, boringly normal.

"Ready to go, babe?" Alex shouted. Sitting up, slowly, she clutched her side. The pain allowed a moment of clarity. Wasn't there still a weevil still bleeding all over her floor?

"Alex, before we leave, you're getting rid of that goddamn alien."