15
"Are you OK?" Jack asked as he watched Ianto who was watching their kids. Both kids were unaware of their parents, standing beyond the one way glass of the school room. Ianto considered as he watched Alice stand next to her little brother protectively watching over him as he drank his milk.
"Now I am. They are OK. They will be OK. No matter what happens… it will need to be OK right?"
"That's a lot of OKs in there Tiger" Jack crooned, kissing Ianto's forehead and Ianto turned to face him.
"That's the other thing. You know this arrangement we have… I want more. I want more from you. More from us. I … how do you feel about me?"
Jack considered with surprise then admitted "I would like to try for more too. I am afraid that if we do not mesh, if we do not fit as a couple that it will make things hard for us with the kids but… ideally? I want you as my partner in and out of the bedroom."
"Good. Well… yes. OK. Good" Ianto flustered then kissed Jack.
Jack held him, kissing him back until a throat cleared and they parted with guilty expressions to find some other parents watching them.
"What!" Jack said calmly "They can't see."
"But we can!" a mother bristled.
"Deal with it. We're here, we're queer and we're sooo in love!" Ianto said with a snap back that had Jack roaring with mirth as Ianto hooked his hand and led him from the room.
"And we are now going for a quick shag" Jack said over his shoulder.
They giggled all the way along the corridor as Jack revelled in this side he had not seen before. Ianto was playful. Like Jack, he was trying to be positive and it again hit them that they were a good fit.
Let's see if they hunt well together too.
Time to gear up.
.
.
.
The old dog lies on the walkway in the skin of the vessel, the space between the inner and outer hulls where all sorts of things hide. It is resting but not asleep. Soon its head lifts, hearing something. It's a faint SCRAPING-CLAWING.
Beneath the walkway grating lies the jungle of conduit. Like a living shadow, something down there moves.
Hackles rising, the dog turns and skulks up the stairs. It wants no part of this.
A hole in the level's mesh floor. Pried open at a seam. Someone is searching for something. Silently, a Skin Walker detaches a metal rod from his backpack. Now he finds a mirror and leans out of the bunk to angle the mirror over the hole. He sees... Inside the hole. There's only blackness.
The Skin Walker slithers off the lower level and drags himself closer. The Skin Walker peers down. And only now do we see the thing behind him - the dark coiled mass that clings spiderlike to a ceiling corner.
A clawed paw whips through the air, noosing around his neck. The Skin Walker gurgles a scream as the claw rears him back... And body-slams him into the ceiling.
Fluids spatter Skin Walker Ray's face. He wakes in his sleeping spot to see in the next level... Skin Walker's body splashing against the ceiling.
A CRY. Ray is on his feet, moving to the hull's bracings, looking out. Can't see much in the dark. Just movement. Fast, horrid, lethal.
The Rogue Dermil turning. Spotting a new target. Ray realizing he's next as the largest one he has ever heard of moves. The Skin Walker is dropped to floor. Boneless. The Rogue Dermil begins smashing into side bracing bars. Over and over. Trying to get at Ray.
The railing between levels to stop people falling into the lower belly of the vessel are all that is saving Ray now.
Skin Walkers are now calling for help. Others running.
Steel pistons are moving. Spotlights sweeping tiers. Rogue Dermil is now sizing up bars. Then making an OMINOUS CLATTERING SOUND as its exoskeleton begins moving, plates unhinging, shifting, collapsing. Rogue reshaping itself - then, impossibly, passing through the bars.
Ray falls silent. Stunned.
The Rogue snapping back into shape, realigning in one tremendous body- flex. And now attacking.
Blood dancing on air.
Rogue attacking.
Entrails spilling.
Attacking. Attacking. Attacking.
"Over there! Other side, other side!" John yells as he runs, pointing ahead of himself, one hand holding the hilt of the Katana he prefers for hunting.
Lights whirl around the tier. The walls there are red. And empty. And quietly dripping.
Flashlight beams probe machinery. Beams swing over huge gears. Pistons. Conduit. And the first sign of blood.
Skin Walkers with dogs track the blood through the machinery level, the bowels of the station. The trail leads to... A utility shaft. In better light, we see the faces of these Special Service guards, a.k.a. the Shit Squad. It's a ragged but tough-ass crew of men and women who will do just about anything for time-and-a- half.
Their Boss looks down the shaft. It narrows and turns, hiding its other end. "Right Nut. Get a reading."
Right Nut shoulders to the front, aims an Echo Location Gun (E.L.G.) down the shaft and pulls the trigger. John, Jack, Ianto and Suzie stand nearby letting the Skin Walkers have the run of the operation. After all … this is their domain.
Small sonic grenades DETONATE, blinding anything in the shaft.
"Clear, Boss." Right Nut finally says softly as he reads the display.
The men trade glances. Does that mean it got away? Or does that mean they have to go down there?
"Shit" Jack finally says softly "Looks like we are going down."