CHAPTER 5
"You sure took your time," said Gwen coldly, climbing into the SUV and slamming the door behind her. "I've been freezing my arse off here for twenty minutes waiting for you to show up!"
"Well we would have been here quicker if Mr I'm-a-law-abiding-citizen-so-I-must-obey-the-speed-limit, wasn't driving!"
"The limit is in place for a reason, Jack."
"Yeah, but stopping for the passing ducks?!" he said, voice raised in a tone of complete disbelief. He sighed, "Get out and swap places, it's my turn to drive!" Ianto did as he was told.
"Can we just go, please?" moaned Gwen, interrupting their domestic. She was cold, wet, bedraggled and in a very bad mood.
"Did you save us any popcorn?" asked Jack offhandedly. Ianto shot him a disconcerting look – did that man have a death wish?! Gwen glared at him, her face half masked by the shadows.
"Sorry," he apologised quickly, feeling a slight pang of guilt. He turned his attention to the road.
The journey passed mostly in silence, intercepted only by the GPS instructions, relayed through Gwen's voice: "Turn left. No! Your other left! Take a sharp right…here."
The SUV swung around the corner, skidding and hissing on the wet tarmac. Ianto could have sworn they were only driving on two wheels; his knuckles whitened as he gripped the sides of his seat. Jack saw his body tensing and rolled his eyes, "Com'on, where's your sense of fun?"
"I must have left it at home with my sense of humour," he deadpanned.
This area of the Quay was dark and deserted; it was a prime hangout for Weevils, particularly at this time of night. Ianto, not wanting to take the risk, reached over and pulled out the emergency Weevil-busting kit from the glove compartment, just in case. They had caught one a few weeks ago, lurking around a disused warehouse a mile or so up the road. Jack had taken Gwen and Ianto to the café for breakfast, only because it had proven to be a useful weevil-watching lookout in the past. Despite returning to the Hub with their intended catch, Jack soon regretted his little act of kindness after Ianto complained about the poor quality of the coffee for the remainder of the day. Jack made a mental note never to take Ianto to Starbucks…
The rain continued to splatter against the windscreen, the wipers struggling to match the pace. It was getting increasing difficult for Jack to see the road. He kept craning his head but the combination of rain and darkness did not bode well.
"STOP!" yelled Gwen. Jack slammed the brakes and the SUV jerked forward violently.
"WHAT?!" he cried, hands gripped on the steering wheel and his knuckles white. Ianto rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes wide in fear and heartbeat racing. This was another reason why he hated Jack's driving; even after all these years, the emergency break had yet to be perfected.
"This is it! The rift monitor says that whatever-it-was is just ahead."
"Jeez!" Jack let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. He may not look a day over forty, but his heart was not as young as his face; he needed to cut down on the sudden scares!
"Look! Over there!" Ianto pointed. Jack and Gwen followed the direction of his outstretched finger to see something laying a few metres in front of them in the middle of the road. It looked distinctly human.
"Okay, ready guys and gals?" he asked, unclipping his seatbelt and reaching down for his faithful Webley. He clicked it into place and braced himself to open the door; Gwen followed his lead. Ianto, on the other hand, sat clutching the anti-Weevil spray.
On the count of three, they exited the SUV into the hammering rain. Ianto, having the more appropriate item, approached the shape first. Yes, definitely human. Jack and Gwen were closely behind in hot pursuit, arms and guns raised at eye level.
"Oh no…" whispered Gwen as she joined her colleague, dropping the gun and raising a hand to her mouth.
The body was lying in a puddled cocktail of blood and rainwater. It was an older man, mid-sixties perhaps, his silver hair plastered down and suit drenched. The only immediate signs of physical trauma were a series of holes drilled into the crown of his head, deep enough to see the brain matter surrounded in congealing blood. His eyes were open wide, the horror of his final moments permanently etched in his expression.
"Oh god. Maurice…" Gwen's voice cracked slightly as a lump caught in her throat.
"You know him?"
"Yeah," she replied, "from my days on the force."
Ianto pulled the small Bekaran scanner and another handheld gadget from his left jacket pocket. He knelt beside the body and ran the two devices up and down, shaking his head at the returning data. He showed the screens to Jack.
"Poor man," said Ianto, his tone genuinely remorseful. "I saw him quite a lot at the library; he buried himself in reading after his wife died. Agnes, I think her name was…"
"The library?"
"I have got a life outside of work, you know."
"Yeah, but really? The library?" Jack repeated, the corners of his mouth twitching from the urge to smile.
Gwen stood there silently, biting her bottom lip to stop the trembling as tears started to form in her eyes. Maurice was such a nice man - he'd been the one to look after her on the first day at the station; shown her the ins and outs of policing. She would often bring him his afternoon cup of tea, and they would sit together, chatting and putting the world to rights. DI Beaumont had taught her everything she knows. The tears rolled down her cheeks and became interspersed amongst the icy-cold rain droplets.
"I'm so sorry." A strong hand gently gripped her right shoulder.
Gwen turned to face the speaker, their face blurred. "He didn't deserve it, Jack. He didn't deserve it…" He pulled her into a close embrace, as she buried her face in his thick coat.
"Who – or what – do you think this was, Jack?" asked Ianto, skimming over the scanned data again.
"The readings don't seem familiar, but judging from the unusual wounds to the head, I have a suspicion it could be a race known as the Agniton. We can't know for sure though until we run some tests on the body; however right now, this seems our best bet and most likely answer." He held Gwen's forearms and gently pushed her back until her eyes met with his. "I'm taking you off the case, Gwen. You're obviously too emotionally attached…"
"No," she replied sharply, the tears leaving trails of mascara on her cheeks. "I have to help, Jack. I need to know what did this." She turned towards the corpse, "I owe the DI that much."
The Captain sighed and nodded reluctantly. He knew she was strong (and as stubborn as hell); that was why he had recruited her. There was something special in Gwen Cooper, although she hadn't realised it yet. Yes, she made mistakes, but then again, who doesn't? Jack could not only trust her with his life – god, how many times had he done that already?! – but he could also trust her judgement.
"Okay," he breathed slowly, mentally planning the next course of action. "We'll need to take the body back to the Hub for testing and come up with a cover story for his family. Gwen," he turned to face her, "I'll drop you home. We can rendezvous in the morning to talk this over." She nodded glumly and walked back towards the SUV, whispering a last "Thank you" and "Goodbye" to her deceased friend. The blue strip lights of the vehicle continued to pound vibrantly, their reflections pulsing in the puddles spotted across the uneven road. Jack watched as Gwen tugged her jacket tighter around her body and ran a shaking hand through her dripping, raven hair. He sighed mournfully and proceeded to help Ianto with the corpse, the blood of whom had now been washed away by the heavy precipitation.
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A/N: Just to make it clear, I don't mean to imply a Jack/Gwen relationship – it's merely a good friend/emotional support thing. Thanks for reading!