Louisa informs the surgical staff. "I want to wait to see if the child does turn on its own. It is far better than risk infection from an operation." Everyone nods.
Fiona looks up at the clock, 1800 hours, 'my shifted ended four hours ago, but so many surgeries'. "Doctor Anderson, I need a nap. If you need me, I will be in the call room."
Louisa smiles, "Wars always bring up the birth rate." She watches Fiona drag herself away concerned she is working too much and quickly refocuses her attention on the next patient on her rounds.
Fiona used the phone in the call room to inform her wife of the possible surgery before she fell asleep instantly on the cool common cot.
Fiona is woken by a kind young nurse, "You are needed in operating room two."
"Thank you. I will come in a moment." She looks up at the clock 2145. She springs up and runs through the almost empty corridors and enters the washroom.
She enters operating room two and offers a smile under her mask to Louisa. Since Fiona's smiles are always large her eyes squint and the mask pulls from her ears to create a unique crease that is surely in itself a smile.
Louisa smiles back, "The baby has not turned naturally, we need to operate."
Fiona nods.
Forty minutes later a baby is born and the mother is well.
Fiona cleans up while looking at the clock, "Doctor Anderson do you need my services for the rest of the evening?"
Louisa looks at the schedule, "Not until tomorrow morning, We have a hysterectomy at nine in the morning."
Fiona nods, "I will be here at six-thirty." She leaves the surgical area to the locker room. She quickly changes into her cricket outfit, puts the cricket bat and Claymore into her bag and exits the hospital. He passes the bicycle rack and hails the taxi waiting.
While she is in the taxi, she attaches her bag and cricket bat to her back and contemplates the situation she soon will be facing. 'they will not get the cricket bat and will not harm my family.'
The taxi arrives at the back end of Teck Plantation in front of the hidden Kitchen Garden Gate. She exits the taxi and finds three weeping angels stay guard.
"Sir, here is an extra tenner if you stay here at watch this entrance to the count of fifteen without blinking. Not a moment longer or a second too soon. Please after the fifteen seconds please drive as fast as possible honking your horn twice. I want to know you have exited safely."
"Aye I will." She leaves the weeping angels in the eyes of the driver and runs counting backwards fifteen ... fourteen ... thirteen ... twelve ... she weaves in and out of the woods ... nine ... eight ... seven ... there is her family on the top of the small hill three ... two ... one and she sprint faster. She hears a horn honk twice in the distance 'good'.
She whispers as she stands catching her breath to her wife's side, "Hi. Thank you for the taxi."
"I need you here." Alaya whispers back.
Fiona looks around at the various people. She looks to her right and noticed a familiar face. "Alaya, that man was the six-foot, blue-eyed, charming monk."
"Interesting," replies a calm Alaya.
Fiona notices a subtle look between Mother Vastra and Mother Jenny, 'I will address this at another time.'
"Who are those two women with him?"
"His Co-workers."
"So he was a fake monk?" She looks around there are two men wearing Indian turbans, a woman in a Sari, a British Officer, two kilted Scotsman, a woman wearing a clan print and three others she can't make out. All are carrying various types of weaponry she has never seen before.
The monk says something to Mother Vastra.
In her strongest authoritative Silurian warrior voice, "It is time. This is essential that the bat does not get into their hands. This is an alien threat to our future."
Fiona looks around, not one person is stunned. She whispers to her wife, "They all know?"
"Yes, they all know." Alaya responds with a smile. "It is a comfort to know we might be isolated, but we are not alone."
A familiar tall grey hair man with the same small man with glasses emerge from the forest edge. The two walk up the hill and speaks directly to their Silurian Warrior leader. "We invited .. you here ... to negotiate ... a peaceful ... trade."
Mother Vastra is annoyed because he has not altered his speech pattern. "What is it that you trade?"
"We want ... the cricket ... bat."
"What is your offer?"
"Your ... lives."
"The bat belongs to only one person." Without turning her head, "Little one?"
Fiona smiles, "Yes?"
"Would you be so kind to hand over your cricket bat to this gentleman from the Vatican?"
"No, I am sorry. It is my cricket bat."
The small man with glasses walks towards Fiona.
Alaya quickly places her blade to his throat.
Mother Vastra speaks, "Do you truly want a headless member of the clergy?"
"Your bat is of no use to you. Why would you risk your friends and family's life just because of sports equipment." The small man pleads with Fiona.
"It belongs to me."
"You have aligned yourself with the wrong people. Your mother would be disappointed with your choice of ... husband? wife? reptile? What do you call each other?"
Fiona smiles and realizes he is just guessing.
"My choice, my cricket bat."
"Why not settle down with a proper gentleman who can watch over you, take care of you ... enjoy a life of leisure."
"My choice, my cricket bat."
"You are not only an abomination in god's eyes but you practice bestiality. Your life is cursed."
"My choice, my cricket bat."
The small man turns to his leader, "It seems she has decided her fate." He turns to walk back to return to his rightful place next to the tall grey hair man.
Fiona pulls the cricket bat from her back, whacks his backside and yells. "Carpe natibus!"
The man quickly returns to the grey-hair man and whispers something.
"Yes, you are mistaken about many things. That is just a normal cricket bat. You give that to your religious leaders and you will be the laughing stock." As the two men look at Vastra. "Yes, I have excellent hearing"
"Would you ... allow one ... specialist to ... look at ... the cricket ... bat?"
Mother Vastra nods.
The small man waves his hand and holds up one finger in the air. A hooded monk comes out of the forest and runs up the hill to the two men. "You are ... given permission ... to look ... at the ... cricket bat ... for its ... authenticity."
The small man with glasses points to Fiona.
The hooded monks comes over and stands in front of Fiona. He takes off his hood.
The six-foot, blue-eyed, charming fake monk comes running over and whispers "I know you."
The monk looks up and gives a terrified look. "I must analyse this cricket bat."
Fiona hands him the cricket bat and the hooded pulls out an electrical device. Everyone one in the groups except Mother Vastra, Mother Jenny, and Alaya do the same. Alaya's sword is ready in case the monk decides to keep the cricket bat.
Everyone is scanning, decoding and probing the cricket bat with their individual devices.
The monk turns around, "It is the cricket bat you seek. It has the time vortex signature." He hands it back to Fiona.
The six-foot, blue-eyed, charming fake monk and whispers to the monk "Stay with us," as he offers his hand.
The monk looks back to his leaders, back to the tall, blue-eyed man who gave him chocolate and a kiss. He grabs the hand both return to their position. He pulls the monk in, kisses him, and says, "Stay with me."
The monk pulls out his sword and stands next to the tall, blue-eyed fake monk's side.
"This is ... ridiculous ... end this." The tall grey hair man says to his small companion.
The small man holds up his hand in a fist.
A quiet mass of hooded monks come out of the forest all around the small hill.
Everyone prepares their stance and buzzing sounds are all around as if unloading a spinning top.
The monks move forward towards the bottom of the hill where each monk pulled from their robe a glowing electric sword.
"This is ... your last ... chance to ... hand over ..."
Vastra quickly stops the dull words, "Shut up."
"Attack!" Yell the tall grey hair man.
The monks run up the hill.
Each person fights using their weapon of choice. With each sound a monk yells in agony, the night flashes colours of red, sparks of green, yellow flames, blue electric discharge and loud popping sounds. It reminds Fiona and Alaya of the fairway at the St. Paul's fete .
Each weapon lays waste to the monk's attack.
The monks coming toward Vastra, Jenny and Alaya are sliced in half within seconds.
Alaya throws her chakram to keep most of the enemies at bay, but those who dare face the same fate as those who face her mothers.
The monks coming towards Fiona are not killed but wounded as gaping holes are located throughout their body. As the first few are humped over she looks towards her wife for a solution, "I will not kill them."
Alaya nods, smiles and kicks them down the hill. "You will bandage them after we are victorious."
The monks continuously come out of the forest running up a small hill like ants.
Soon the army monks have emptied out of the forest.
The monks have their backs to the woods.
Fiona yells, "Everyone close their eyes for two seconds."
"What?" comes from the motley crew.
Mother Vastra commands, "Close you eyes on the count of three."
Each one use their weapons to give themselves space and allow themselves the three seconds before being lashed out with their eyes closed.
"One ... Two ... Three!"
Everyone closes their eyes.
"Open!"
Weeping Angels surround the area behind the monks.
Mother Vastra commands, "We need to do this again. Prepare yourselves."
Each one attack the monks with a new sense of victory.
"One ... Two ... Three!"
Everyone closes their eyes.
"Open!"
The monks are now half the numbers.
Mother Vastra commands, "Again. Prepare yourselves."
Now weapons are lowered as they use physical combat to knock them down the hills. The fate of the monk's lives will be send by stone hands to the past.
"One ... Two ... Three!"
Everyone closes their eyes.
"Open!"
They only remaining enemies are the tall grey hair man and his short companion with glasses. "I see ... you have ... allies."
"We didn't know. Until you unveiled your goals." Mother Vastra laughed at their stupidity. "No one has a way of communicating with these Assassins. They monitor your doings. You broght them." Mother Vastra offers advice, "If you would have done nothing ... the cricket bat would have been yours by simply assuming it was lost or stolen. You have lost lives over this. You have lost!"
"Have ... I?"
Vastra turns to see the Monk rescued by the tall, blue-eyed fake monk is now holding Fiona's cricket bat with a blade to her neck.
Behind him is a Weeping Angel a fingernail away from touching him.
"No! Keep and eye on the weeping angel. Do not let him get away." Mother Vastra instructs everyone.
Fiona smiles to her wife and quickly within seconds is free from the monk's blade. She now faces the monk with an open hand. "Please return to me my cricket bat."
Fiona goes to take it away and the monk raises it against her.
Fiona mimics Vastra's move and swings the Claymore side blade towards his right. The monk block with the cricket bat and protects himself.
Fiona swings, just like Vastra has done time and time before, the Claymore side blade towards his left. The monk blocks with the cricket bat.
Fiona aims for the collar, but the monks slap her Claymore down with the cricket bat.
"Side blade? What? That is is? You aren't willing to kill for the cricket bat?" The monk mocks her.
"No, I made a vow. I am sure you understand vows," Fiona responds
The monk laughs
Not good sign
The monk pulls back the cricket bat to swing at the weeping angel behind him.
"No!" Fiona goes to swing against the monk's forearms and slams the blade into his right wrist slicing through fingers of his left.
The cricket bat falls to the ground with the right hand clasping and two fingers drop in the grass millimetres away.
The monk yells in agony.
Fiona quickly open her medical bag and bandages his nub. She quickly bandages the few fingers. "We can fix this if we get to a hospital in time."
The monk cries out to his god.
Fiona looks to her wife for comfort.
All eyes are on Fiona as the Weeping Angel touches the monk and he disappears.
"No no no no." Fiona looks at the Weeping Angel. "Where did he go? No person should suffer, not because of me. No one."
She picks up the cricket bat, prying off the hand and cleaning the blood with her alcohol.
She picks up the severed hand and sliced fingers and runs to the nearest tree. She pulls grass up, digging a hole in the dirt, wraps the hand and fingers in cloth, drops them into the cavity, covers the hole with dirt and pats the ground down.
Fiona gets up. sprints and stands next to her wife. "Please ... tell the man to leave us alone."
Mother Vastra stands tall, "I am officially requesting that the Vatican and its subsidiaries leave our family and future generations alone."
"We want ... the cricket ... bat or ... you will ... all die." The tall grey hair man replies with confidence.
"Your fate is resting on my request." Mother Vastra compassionately pleads.
"I must have that bat, it is essential ..."
Everyone closes their eyes for a second and open to see there is nothing on Richmond Fields except the victorious potpourri of personalities.
"It is done." Mother Vastra looks to her small army. "Thank you all for coming to our aid. I will keep my promise."
The small group of people nods and leave the ground. The last to leave is the tall, blue-eyed fake monk who simply winks before he and female companions leave in a flash of light.
Fiona sits on top of the hill and watches the moon low on the horizon. Her wife sits down by her side, "What promise did Mother Vastra make?"
"To bequeath to their institute our library, collection and intelligence after our family is dead and gone."
"They shall have a long wait."
"They are patient."
