Chapter 2: St. James, Barbados

Royal Caribbean Cruise. Day 3. We've landed in Barbados, and it's not quite like the photos on the brochure, but still beautiful. Took Jack cycling today. The Doctor had him in this little chair on the back of his bike. He loved it. Both of them, I mean. They were laughing and smiling the whole way down the trail. He has a lovely smile, The Doctor does. Jack has a nice smile too, but he hasn't got all his teeth yet, so I wouldn't call it lovely.

But there's something strange happening on this boat. A disappearance the night we arrived. Then another two yesterday. And we haven't heard word of any today, but the staff are exchanging looks. I'm not scared. I've spent too much time with him to be scared. But I can tell he's getting antsy, he wants to know what's going on and he won't rest until

"Rose!"

My Doctor enters the room in his usual flamboyant fashion, all swinging limbs and booming voice. He's wearing an odd outfit, odd even for him- grey slacks, black dress shoes, white button up with a bizarrely colored tie on top, and is that a chef's hat?

"Borrowed this from the kitchens," he says, a huge goofy grin on his face. "Well, I say borrowed…"

"Doctor, you know it's ninety degrees out, right?" I interject. "You must be sweating."

"Investigating strange matters is by no means a glamorous job," he responds, fanning himself with an itinerary. "Now, I spoke with some junior staff members and rumor is that all of the disappeared people are in the same room cluster. And where would you guess that cluster to be?"

I bite my lip, looking him up and down. "Ah, the kitchens, maybe?"

"Bingo!" he says. "But not just the kitchens, the pipes. The big control room with all the gizmos."

"So not the expensive suites, then. The cheapest ones. Why wouldn't the kidnappers go for the biggest rooms?"

"Precisely, Rose, that's what they would do, if they were looking for money."

I lean back in my chair. "You mean you think they're just getting people for…?"

"No idea," he offers, cheerfully. "That's why we're investigating, remember?" He finishes off by pointing at his hat, unnecessarily, I might add. It's far too big for him and is going to slide right over his ears, if he isn't careful.

"If we're investigating, we have to take Jack," I remind him. "And Jack is napping right now."

"Excellent. He won't make any incriminating noises."

"Not what I meant, Doctor."

But, despite my protestations, we're currently sitting under a leaky pipe, waiting for who knows what. I couldn't help myself, I love a spot of adrenaline on a lazy Sunday. But having Jack with us, all tucked up in his baby carrier, is like an anchor to reality. We have to watch ourselves, danger's no good with a child around.

Jack's little fingers curl around my pinky just then. Already ten months old, although it seems like a lifetime. If only his father were here to see him.

But his father is there, as I'm reminded as he protectively grabs my shoulder, fingers raised to his lips in warning. There's a faint scuffling noise coming from the corner of the room, behind the raised control booth.

And then, a figure emerges. And oh, it is disgusting. Definitely alien, The Doctor will be so pleased. We just can't seem to keep ourselves away from them.

It's humanoid, man-like really, in stature and height. But it's face, well, it's completely out of this world. Gaunt features, barely obscured by thin skin pulled back over its head. Huge, slanted eye sockets and nostrils, and a wide mouth.

It breathes openly then, and I see rows of sharp teeth. I swallow thickly and look down at Jack. Please don't wake up, I beg silently.

"Weevil," hisses The Doctor next to me.

The Weevil trods around the booth and crosses in front of us. I hunker into the shadow, but it stares dead ahead, making its way to the door leading into the hallway. It's wearing a cloak-like robe, and it wraps a hood around its head before exiting, silent and steady.

As soon as the door is closed, The Doctor jumps up.

"Interesting, they don't usually inhabit Earth but occasionally they turn up in the sewers, although how this one got onto a ship is beyond me. Excellent location, though, it's not as if anyone would suspect it and it's nice and musty down here. There's probably only one, it's not taking nearly enough to satisfy a family-"

"Doctor, we need to go," I say, firmly. "We need to get Jack out of danger, then we can handle this."

"But Rose," he whines, looking at me with wide eyes. "The only way to kill a Weevil is cutting off the source of its power- the flesh it feeds on." I wrinkle my nose in disgust, but he pushes on.

"It must be stockpiling bodies in its little nest back there. You go find someone, tell them there's an odd smell coming from the boiler room. They'll think there's a murderer on the loose, and that's problematic, but we'll call in UNIT, they'll handle that. And I'll go after it, stop it from killing anyone else."

I see that look in his eyes, that desperate need to interfere and help anyone and everyone. It's times like these that reminds me of why I stay with him, why I choose the danger and the mayhem over peace and serenity. It's because there's a point to all of this, we're helping people. And it's addictive. And neither of us will ever stop.

"Alright," I say. "But be careful. "

"Always do, Rose. Don't you worry. Hold on tight to Jack though, now that we know there's a Weevil on the loose."

I squeeze him tightly before we part, me heading toward the elevator with Jack, to get to the internet cafe and notify UNIT. The Doctor runs in the other direction, completely empty-handed, ridiculous chef's hat flapping as he goes. I have no idea how he'll handle this one. But he always does. Always.

London, England

Our cruise ended up being cut short after UNIT showed up. Alien life forms demand intense study, and that means clearing the area of all public. We got a nice reimbursement for the remaining days, though. And I'm back on the job.

I've been working with UNIT ever since I first landed in this dimension. I was immediately invaluable, thanks to my travels with The Doctor, and my knowledge of alien life. And once he showed up here, you'd think they would take him too. But he wouldn't do it. He's technically a "consultant," but he won't step foot in the offices unless it's to collect me.

No, my Doctor works at Tesco. Yes, the grocery store. He loves it, it's one of the most confounding things. A man with infinite knowledge of the universe and all the galaxies, and yet he manages to stay sane working in a shop. He says he loves the people, and I don't doubt that, but it really goes to show what an amazing creature he is.

Now, five days after the Weevil incident, I'm in the office, working on a report of the scene. Once The Doctor captured the thing- he locked it into a suite bathroom, poor things hate bright lights- we ventured back to where it was keeping the other bodies.

It was disgusting, and I didn't really look at it too closely. But we did find something peculiar: a little silver ring. The Weevil had it wrapped up in cloth, hidden in an indent in the wall, like he was keeping it safe. According to our files, they're actually kind of sentimental. It might have belonged to a dead friend or family member, at some point, somewhere.

He's sealed in a tank underground, now. I go and visit him sometimes, like right now. Odd, I know, considering that he's a killer, but I feel bad for him in a way. Separated from everything he once knew and loved, all alone.

"It's nice and dark and quiet in there, isn't it?" I ask, peering through the glass. He's sitting against the far wall, obscured by the darkness.

I run my nail down the side of the tank absentmindedly, and it makes a squeaking noise.

Like a bolt of lightning, he's up in an instant, throwing himself against the glass. I step back, but I can't look away from his eyes, they're bright with anger and malice. The pounding continues for a good thirty seconds before he finally gives up and slinks back.

"That's a good boy. Nice and safe here. But where did you come from?" I murmur. "You must have come from so far away… I want to know… How you got here and h- how you get back, right? There's gotta be a way to get back."

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Someone is approaching, and I'd recognize that gait anywhere. My cheeks redden a bit. I'm lucky he didn't catch me talking to it like that, he'd probably get worried. He doesn't like it when I talk about going back to space. Maybe it's because he wants it so badly, too, and he knows it's not possible.

I turn when I hear the sound of Jack burbling.

"Hello darling," I say, and smile in spite of it all. My darlings.

"Someone misses you at home, you know," says The Doctor. He's got Jack in a papoose around his shoulders, such a good daddy.

"Well, I'm sure he doesn't miss the Weevil, not that he was awake to see it the first time. Are you taking me out to lunch?" I ask.

"Only the best for my Rose," he answers.

"Vee-vil," says Jack.

"Oh my GOD!" I screech, as we both look down at him in shock. And that's woken up the Weevil too, unfortunately, but who cares? The Doctor is laughing and I've got my arms around them both. Jack's first words. I was hoping for 'mama,' but this makes more sense, when you think about it. We're a perfect little family in very unusual circumstances. So a very unusual family, but I love it. I love us.