Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story besides the idea... That hopefully, you've caught onto by now.
The ensuing conversation was short and ended with a promise to send a couple of agents immediately.
Alex went to hang the phone back up, but that would require reentering the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, he walked through the doorway again. He kept his eyes averted as he skirted around Jack's body. Putting the phone back in its cradle, Alex saw something that'd escaped his notice before. Probably because he was distracted by the body, but that was just his opinion.
It was an old pocket watch, silver chain and all. Something about it drew Alex forward. Picking it up, he recognized it. Ian had always carried it around. Alex even remembered the first time he asked about it…
…
Seven-year-old Alex and Ian were taking a run around the park. Jack had declined, saying that "they needed some guy time before Ian left the country again".
Slowly, Alex was getting out of breath, but he didn't voice this aloud. He wanted to show Ian that he could keep up.
Ian was impressed with his nephew but still noticed the kid getting breathless. He slowed to a walk, letting Alex follow his example and relax and catch his breath.
They continued walking silently down the sidewalk. However, they just happened to be passing an ice cream parlor.
"Ian? Can we get some ice cream?" Alex asked, eager yet still polite. "Please?" he tacked on.
The older man looked down at his nephew, who was in turn looking up at him with big eyes. Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck. Ian never was all that good with kids.
"Ian? Please? Pretty please with sugar on top?" begged Alex. He knew he was whining, but he didn't care. All Alex wanted was ice cream. Knowing the full powers of cute-child manipulation, Alex pulled out the big guns.
Ian looked at Alex again. Now, the child was looking up at him with what all adults know as the dreaded "puppy-dog" look. He couldn't resist the full-out "pity me" vibe Alex was giving off.
"Fine. We can get some ice cream," he consented.
"YES!" cheered Alex, with a fist-pump in the air.
A bell chimed as they walked through the front door. Alex practically drug Ian to the counter, and stood there, bouncing up and down. There, a teenage girl smiled at them. Her name tag read 'Rose'. "Hello. What can I get for you two today?"
Ian looked at Alex. The little boy was dancing around like he had ants in his pants. Obviously, he was beyond excited. "Alex, what do you want?"
"Um," Alex froze, thinking hard. "Can I have a double-scoop chocolate cone with gummy bears? Please?"
Closing his eyes, Ian couldn't help but shaking his head. His nephew was so weird sometimes. Just like John.
"And how bout you, sir?" asked the blonde behind the counter. She looked at him with a smile, laughing at Alex's cuteness.
"Uh, a small vanilla cone," ordered Ian. Sweet and simple.
After paying and getting their orders, Alex and Ian went over to a booth. As Ian slid into his seat, something fell out of his pocket.
Alex picked it up. "Ian, what's this?" he asked, with curiosity normal for an seven-year-old.
"It's a pocket watch, Alex," his uncle explained. Holding out his hand, he inquired, "May I please have it back?"
The boy nodded and set it in Ian's hand. There was silence as the two ate their ice cream. But Alex had to break it. "Why do you carry a pocket watch around if you already have another watch on your wrist?"
Ian sighed. "It was your father's and he trusted me with it. I never go anywhere without it."
"That was Dad's?"
It was Ian's turn to nod this time.
Alex opened his mouth to speak, to ask more questions, but something in Ian's expression stopped him. He just sat there, calmly licking his cone, wondering about the watch that Ian never let go. Maybe they would–
…
Alex shook his head. No use remembering the past now. Not when the future was so much more important. He slipped the watch into the pocket of his jeans, and slipped out of the kitchen again.
There was a light tap on the front door. Alex's head whipped round, towards it. Was that the help already? Should he answer it?
Probably not. Unless it was help. Or a friend. But how would he know that? He wouldn't look through the peephole; someone could be waiting on the other side for him to do just that with a weapon, ready to kill.
Instead of opening the door, he crept around to the window next to it. It was open just a bit, so he could hear the people on his front steps.
"Move over; I don't want to get wet," said a man.
"Oh, no. You wouldn't want to get a bit of rain on you," retorted a woman, who snorted. "It might ruin your suit."
As far as Alex could tell, there were only two people outside. But he couldn't be sure, could he?
This time, someone banged on the door quite loudly. "Oi! Open up in there!" yelled the woman.
"Donna, you can't do that!" the man exclaimed.
"And why not?"
"It's not–"
But Alex had heard enough. He crossed back to the door and opened it, figuring any assassin sent to finish off the job would've been quieter.
"Oh!" breathed the man. "Hello. Um…"
"Are you two the agents from the Bank?" Alex cut straight to the chase. After all, Mrs. Jones had promised to send a couple to help.
The man and the woman looked at each other. "Yeah," replied the woman. "That's us. Donna Noble and uh…"
"John Smith." The man stuck out his hand for Alex to shake, yet Alex just stared at it. Slowly, the man called John Smith retracted his hand. "Right, so if we could just step inside, if you haven't noticed, it's raining out here and–"
"Can I see your badges, then?" asked Alex. He wasn't sure of these two; something seemed off. He would need this extra bit of comfort, even though some organization could just as easily make some false badges… No. Alex would cross that bridge if it appeared.
"Of course!" Smith dug around in the pockets of his trench coat and produced a wallet-looking thing. He flipped it open and showed it to Alex. "Agents John Smith and Donna Noble at your service. Now, if we could just take a look around–" He tried to take a step inside, but Alex cut him off. The boy shut the door a little farther and stood, blocking the gap.
"Is this some type of joke?"
Another shared look between the two strangers. "No, not at–" began the woman called Donna Noble.
"Then who are you, really?" questioned Alex. He looked suspiciously at the two and was beginning to wish he'd grabbed a weapon so he wouldn't be as totally defenseless.
"Like he said, Agents Donna Noble and John Smith. See?" Noble pointed to the paper the man was still holding in his hand. "It says so right on there."
"No, it doesn't."
"What?" asked Smith. He looked at the paper himself, to check.
"That paper's blank."
So, whaddya think? Sorry bout the delay, but I had a lack of creative flowation, creative stiflation... NOT WRITER'S BLOCK!
I was just about to put down "read and review", but if you've gotten this far, you've obviously already read it! Silly me!
There's just one little part left, and you all know what it is... *Drumroll* … Oh, just figure it out!
**EDIT. You'll want to reread this chapter; major renovations done to it. Chapter Three shall be coming shortly. I won't wait a whole year before updating again, promise.
