Fluuuff. So much fluff. Also a seedling that will grow into ... something. Stay tuned for that.

I'm in sixth year this year (it's my last year of school, which means big-ass exams in June), so writing is slow going. Please bear with me.

Chapter Twenty-Three

It was late – late enough that Sky had been in pyjamas, her hair in two plaits, and Gwen had been falling asleep in front of the television – when Jack appeared on their doorstep.

He was … dishevelled, to say the least. He held his coat, which had been dirtied by some green substance, under one arm. Blood bloomed on his shirt, indicating that he had most likely died at least once. His face was worn, eyes tired.

"We need to talk," he said.

Gwen nodded dumbly. Jenny, who had been standing at her shoulder, stood aside to let Jack pass through. Sky and Rhys stared from their positions on the couch and armchair, respectively. Jenny shook her head to affirm she didn't know what had happened, while Gwen directed Jack to the pile of his clothes they kept for situations such as these.

"I went to Penarth," Jack told them, in a poor attempt at an explanation, once he had cleaned up somewhat, his dirty clothes in the washing machine, and sat before them.

Rhys raised his eyebrows. "You usually get into a slime fight in Penarth?"

Jack smirked, but the expression was muted by his fatigue. "Not if I can help it, no. I ran into some Slitheen."

"Ran into?" Gwen repeated. "That's why you left in a huge hurry? And spent four days there?"

"I tracked them," he amended. "Usually, they prefer to be close to the rift. I was suspicious."

"Penarth is close to the rift," Sky pointed out, with a puzzled frown.

Jack shook his head. "I mean right on top of it. Even Penarth is far."

"Right. So what are the Slitheen, exactly?"

"They come from …" Sky scrunched up her nose in concentration. "Raxacoricofallapatorius." She looked delighted that she'd managed to say it properly, and reached out for a high five, which Jenny was happy to provide. Jack smiled sadly. "They tried to use Luke to harness the power of the sun when he was younger."

"One of them was your mayor," Jack added, nodding to a horrified-looking Gwen and Rhys. "In 2006."

"How did it get away with that?" asked Gwen.

"They use people's skin as a disguise."

"Delightful," she muttered. "I think I'm just going to go and throw up, now."

"So," said Jenny, biting her lip, "you reckon it's strange that the Slitheen have moved away from the rift?"

"That's the gist of it, yeah."

She smiled wryly. "Then you might want to hear what we have to say."

It was almost like a war council, Jenny mused, but much more civil. Then again, the only other experience she'd had had been with General Cobb, who had been anything but. Her hand strayed to the point of her chest where she'd been shot, and she shut her eyes to rid herself of the memories.

They had moved now, summoned by the lure of tea in the kitchen, and were sat around the table. Sky, still in her pyjamas and hugging her knees, and Jack, in the most casual wear Jenny had ever seen him in, made for an odd pair. Sprawled out across the table was a map of Great Britain (with Scotland and Northern Ireland folded over), where they'd marked out the locations of not only the Slitheen and Weevils but also other unusual alien activity UNIT had come across.

"There has to be some connection," was a phrase that had been bounced between them countless times, though they were no closer to finding that connection.

Gwen sighed, rubbing her forehead. Rhys, sitting beside her, put a comforting arm around her, asking quiet questions about her wellbeing. Her hand dropped to the table with a thud.

"Gwen?" asked Jenny.

She shook her head. "I'm all right, just a bit tired. I think we should call it a night." When the others nodded their assent, she turned to Jack. "Are you going to stay? You can take the couch, or one of the beds, if Jenny—"

"I'm not tired," she answered immediately.

So it was that she was left there in the moonlit kitchen, sipping her tea and watching the hypnotic cycle of the washing machine.

"How long have you been there?"

Jenny didn't start at the sound of Jack's voice, but she was surprised to hear it. She blinked, glancing over at him. He must have just woken up, for he was barefoot and shirtless, dressed only in the same tracksuit bottoms Gwen had given him the night before.

"All night," she replied honestly, untangling her limbs and stretching out her legs. "I fell into a stupor around three, but I didn't need any sleep."

Jack didn't shake his head at her or huff out a laugh, he merely sat in a chair beside her.

"Did you sleep much?" Jenny asked.

"Not nearly enough," he replied, scrubbing a hand over his face. He smiled weakly. "Don't worry, it takes more than that to get me down."

"Like an alien invasion of Great Britain?" Jenny suggested wryly.

Jack wrinkled his nose. "Let's not think about that. There are aliens in London all the time. Doc'd be out of business if there weren't."

She felt a stab of sadness in her heart, but didn't give voice to it. It was getting easier to deal with. She was bound to cross paths with her father eventually. She just had to be patient. "Not weevils, though."

"No," Jack sighed. "Not weevils."

As if they had come to some silent agreement, they both rose, then. Jack to move his clothes from the washing machine to the drier, and Jenny to boil the kettle for tea.

Almost as if summoned by the noise and the promise of the beverage that came with it, Sky ambled into the kitchen, in her pyjamas. Her hair was still in the two plaits, but they were loose and messy.

"G'morning," she yawned, pulling out a chair to sit at the table. "Can I have some tea?"

Jenny nodded. "Are Gwen and Rhys up yet?"

"I heard the shower going," Sky replied. "So someone must be."

Jenny was pouring out tea for the three of them – deciding to leave Gwen and Rhys's until she was sure they were awake – when Gwen appeared, fully dressed, keys in hand.

She stopped short, clearly not having expected an audience.

"We – we're out of milk," she said, heading for the door as though she wanted to win a marathon.

Sky frowned, looking from the door that had been slammed shut to the three-quarters full milk carton on the table.

"What was that about?" she asked, curling a hand around her mug of tea.

"I don't know, kid," Jenny replied. "I don't know."

"We'll talk to her when she gets back," said Jack, his jaw set and eyes fixed on the closed front door.

They shared a modest breakfast of tea and toast, telling Rhys that Gwen had said she was going to the shops when he joined them. They didn't mention how odd she'd acted; that they could deal with upon her return.

Jack left to shower and dress when he had finished eating, and so was absent when Gwen returned. She sat at the kitchen table with them, remaining silent.

"What's going on?" Jenny asked her, deciding against folding her arms. She didn't want this to seem like an interrogation.

She drew in a breath, and promptly burst into tears.

Jenny and Sky stared at her in bewilderment, while Rhys immediately moved to comfort her. She was smiling, however, and … laughing?

"What's happened?" Sky asked, her nose wrinkled in confusion.

Gwen dabbed at her eyes with a tissue that Rhys had handed her, composing herself enough to announce, "I'm pregnant."

Rhys kissed her soundly, and they embraced. Jenny and Sky joined in, making for a slightly damp (for Rhys was now crying as well) group hug.

"What is happening?" asked Jack. They all turned to look at him, and started laughing.

"What?" he demanded, indignantly now. Sky merely pulled him into the hug, which was now even damper with the addition of his hair, still wet from the shower.

"Gwen's pregnant," Rhys finally said, causing Jack to exclaim happily, pressing a kiss to her head.

"I'm happy," said Gwen, once the hug had broken apart and she was drinking a mug of tea. "It came as a bit of a shock, but I'm happy. I don't know what Anwen will think, though."

"She'll be happy to have a little brother or sister," Sky assured, beaming.

Jenny nodded, smiling, and fished her phone from her pocket, hearing it chime five time in quick succession They were all messages from Charlie.

'We can die happy matchmakers!'

'Well I can'

'Not so sure about you'

'Actually definitely not sure about you'

'What's your deal?'

She shook her head fondly, sending back a 'Go to class'.

'Check the calendar, Jen. It's Sunday.'

Giving up on Charlie entirely, she pulled up Luke's contact. 'Congrats', she sent, and then added, I told you so'.

'Shut up.'

She laughed. Despite the looming alien threat, it was a good day.