So, Glenn O'Keeffe once again joins the adventure. He's a bit distraught and rough around the edges, and we'll explore his "reformation" a little more... he'll find a mentor of sorts. :-)

Enjoy!

SIX

It had been about two days since Glenn O'Keeffe had posted his video about the "haunted" Angels, and left instructions at the inn, so that the right people could find him. Just now, he was in his parlour, having tea (and a little whiskey), trying to lose his thoughts in the television.

And there came a knock at the door.

When he opened it, there they stood, like guardians. Saviours.

"Oh, thank God," he breathed.

"You rang?" the Doctor asked.

"I did," Glenn replied, and he stepped aside, to let them enter. The Doctor came first, and they shook hands. With a gulp, he said, "Martha, nice to see you."

"And you," she said, patting him on the arm as she walked past him.

"Captain Jack," Glenn said, nodding to the third person to walk through the door. "Thank you all for coming. Find the place all right?"

"You were smart to leave those gatekeeping questions," said the Doctor. "Others are trying to find you."

"I thought that might happen," Glenn said, solemnly. His demeanour was markedly demurer, and less creepy, than when last they'd seen him. For one thing, instead of eyes squinted and scheming, they were fully open, and distorted with worry.

"Glenn, what happened?" Jack asked.

"Well, everything was fine until about two days ago," Glenn answered. "Tea?"

"No," the Doctor answered. "Just talk."

The four of them now stood in the parlour in a circle, all earnest.

"You dropped me at the boarding house two weeks ago, and I just spent one night there, which was less than I thought I would do. I think Martha's words really penetrated, you know? I found that I was quite impatient to see my mum and Hannah, and mend fences," Glenn explained. "So I came home, and my mum almost collapsed when she saw me, but she cried and had me come inside, and… well, that's it. My mother is a saint."

"That's fantastic, Glenn," Jack said, rather softly.

Glenn continued, "I've been staying on the sofa here, since Hannah has my old room. And we've been talking a lot, playing cards and whatnot. I tried to take Hannah to the park one time, but she doesn't trust me yet. I've been making their meals and doing the washing, just trying to do my part."

"Good for you," Martha said, sincerely.

"And no pangs for what once was?" Jack wondered.

The Doctor had been wondering the same thing, but wasn't sure how to ask, without seeming rude. He was, on occasion, obtuse about such things.

Glenn sighed. "I can't say zero pangs. I lived as a selfish arsehole for years. And I gave up a… lifestyle. So yeah, sometimes. I mean... yeah. But no, I'm okay. I'm good."

He didn't make eye-contact with anyone, and no-one was exactly fooled. He saw Martha and the Doctor exchange a look, and he knew he hadn't covered himself very well.

"Anyway," Glenn went on. "As I said, everything was fine until forty-eight hours ago. We were having our breakfast and morning tea, when my mum asked if I'd seen this report, these photos, of angel statues that move around some cemetery. I thought it was rubbish, or that she had misunderstood, but she insisted it was real because her friend Laurette had sent her these photos."

"So she didn't see them on social media? On Facebook, or something like that?" the Doctor asked.

"No, she wouldn't have any idea how to do that," Glenn said. "She's just got a circle of friends and they all forward e-mails to each other, then pass them along. You know, jokes, amazing stories, and that. It's a laugh. Well… until it wasn't."

"So, she showed you the pictures?" the Doctor probed.

Glenn nodded. "There were about seven photos attached to the e-mail, and she showed me the first one, and I didn't think too much of it. Except that it grated on me. It made me feel cold, like icy prickles in my veins. It happens to me sometimes, when things aren't right, or…"

"When you're in the presence of something that walks the line between the Eternal and the Ephemeral," the Doctor muttered. "Like you."

"Maybe," Glenn conceded. "Then she started to scroll through the pics, and talk about what people are saying about the cemetery, showing me statues supposedly not where they'd been last seen… and then she scrolled back to the top photo, and I swear to you, Doctor, the angel had moved. Like, closer to the camera. She scrolled away again and continued talking, so I asked her to go back, so that I could see… and again, it moved. It had changed positions, this time! And my senses, whatever you call them, were through the roof. This wasn't bloody right."

"Oh dear, oh dear," the Doctor breathed.

"D'you think I'm a nutter?"

"No. I wish I did," said the Time Lord. "Then what?"

"Well, I had her show it to me again and again, and we became fairly certain of what we were seeing. The same photo was changing each time we looked at it. She called Hannah in to see it, which turned out to be a mistake," Glenn said, and sighed rather sadly. "I reckoned it had to be a hoax or a… I didn't know what it was, but it made me incredibly uncomfortable, and I couldn't believe my eyes. So I decided to look into it. I turned on a laptop in another room, and suddenly I heard her call out to me. Then I heard a loud bang. Or, not a bang, but part bang, part whoosh – can't describe it. But by the time I got to her, they were both gone, and…"

He stopped, and swallowed hard.

"And what? Glenn, what did you see?"

"The angel statue coming out of the screen. Like a hologram. I know it sounds completely crackers, but…"

"No," Jack counselled. "We've seen it too."

"Good, I was banking on that," Glenn said, sitting down on the sofa rather wearily.

"Was its upper half reaching out, as though it was leaning through a window?" Martha asked.

"Yes!" he answered. "That's exactly what I saw!"

"Yeah, us too," she sighed.

"But Glenn, how long did you stay in the room with the… hologram?" the Doctor wondered.

"I dunno, half a minute? Why?"

"Did you take your eyes off it?

"What? Why would I?"

"Think hard. Did you blink? Did you turn away?"

"I… I guess I must've blinked," Glenn said. "I got close to it, put my hand through it, to see if I could work out where it had come from, what it was. I don't know why I'd do that… it's daft."

"So," the Doctor said, getting to his knees to face Glenn squarely, leaning across the coffee table. "You've got your hand through the hologram, or whatever it was. Literally inside of the thing. Did you make any concerted effort not to blink?"

"Doctor what's this about?" he asked. "No, I didn't make a concerted effort not to blink!"

The Doctor looked meaningfully at Martha and Jack.

"Everybody blinks," Martha said. "And if he was already touching it…"

"Yeah," the Doctor said, softly. "He must've confused it. He is half Eternal. Has powers rooted in Eternity. Eternals exist outside of time. It probably had no idea what to do with him."

"Wow," Martha mused.

"What did you do then, Glenn?" asked the Time Lord.

"I switched off the computer!"

"Just turned it off? No shut-down sequence?"

"That's correct. Okay, clearly, you know what's happened," Glenn said. "This is my family! Tell me what's got them!"

"They're called Weeping Angels," Martha began, sitting down beside Glenn. "We've had run-ins with them before, and got zapped just like your mum and Hannah."

"You have?" he asked, his voice raising. "And you survived? That means…"

"Yes, we survived, but we had a kind of survival guide," she explained.

"Glenn, have you ever heard of quantum lock?" the Doctor asked him.

"No."

The Doctor went on to explain the Weeping Angels to him, the concept of quantum lock, feeding on potential energy, and what happens to people when the Angels touch them.

"And just to make things even more fucked-up, we have recently discovered that an image of an Angel, when repeatedly viewed, can become itself an Angel," Jack added.

"So, the Angel in the image doesn't come through the computer, exactly. The image itself becomes an entirely new entity," said the Doctor.

"Blimey," Glenn said, harried. "So they can reproduce by spreading their image."

"Yep," the Doctor confirmed. "Scary, eh?"

"Yeah, but this is good news! It means that my mum and niece aren't dead, doesn't it? Because if they're in the past… well, time is non-linear, and the past still exists!"

"True," the Doctor said. "Impressive knowledge, O'Keeffe."

Glenn looked at him sheepishly. "Remember what I used to do? Travel through time, change people's pasts, cause their futures to collapse, events to get squeezed out of being…"

"Right," the Doctor said quickly, getting back on his feet.

"So, how do we find them?" Glenn asked, excitedly.

"Well, that's the question," the Doctor told him. "They could be anywhere in time, anywhere on the planet. Or… I don't know, maybe a different planet, who's to say?"

"But…"

"Glenn, the only people I know of who have ever been touched by a Weeping Angel, had have been restored back to their original timeline are me and Martha, and as I said, we had a guidebook of sorts. I really want you to have your mum and niece back, Glenn, but I don't want you to get your hopes up."

"Fucking great," Glenn spat, and he stood up roughly, and began pacing around the room. "I call on you people because you know how to…"

"Glenn, you need to understand what we're up against," Martha tried, standing up herself, as well. "It's not just some malevolent humans, or Time Agents who…"

"This is my mother we're talking about!" Glenn shouted at her. "And my niece! She's only four years old! She's an innocent!"

"I know! I've seen my own family come under direct fire as well. Under worse circumstances than this, even! But staying calm, and following instructions is what saved them!" she shouted back.

"I just got them back in my life!"

"Again, I know! Take that fire, that anger, that grief you're feeling, and use it to help us!"

"Help you do what?" he asked her. Then he rounded on the Doctor. "Do you even know what needs doing? Do you?"

"Not yet, but…"

"Bloody Time Lord," Glenn spat. "Fat lot of good."

"Hey," Jack said, catching him by the shoulders. "Why don't you let the Doctor and Martha check out the computer your mum was using, and… well, I'll take that tea, if you're still offering."

"Yeah sure," Glenn breathed. Without looking at anyone, he said, "It's my mum's bedroom. Upstairs, first room on the right."

Jack leaned against the counter and watched Glenn move about the kitchen, in the very British ritual of making tea. After a minute, he said, "You know, Glenn, the Doctor is amazing. He can do stuff that no-one else in the universe can do. But he's not a magician."

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry about before. I guess I've been repressing the bad stuff. Got a temper now. I used to be all calm and calculating…"

"But now you've got something to lose," Jack said.

"I thought… well, I had hope. Especially when the Doctor mentioned time. I mean, isn't that his thing?"

"Yes, but it's not just time we're dealing with. It's also malevolent, soulless creatures working actively against us. And the vastness of time and space, versus two tiny humans, who could be anywhere. Please try to look at this objectively."

"Fine. Earl Grey? Oolong?"

"Whatever – I'm not really a tea guy. Look, Glenn, I know it's hard to step back and take a breath, especially when you feel like you need answers. But if there was ever anything in my life that I've been sure of, it's the Doctor."

"D'you fancy him?" Glenn asked, putting teabags into four mugs. He thought he may as well make himself a new one, as his old one would be cold by now.

"Well, yeah, obviously. But that's got nothing to do with it. I've seen him in action. I've seen him raise the dead, stop earthquakes, face down armies. I've seen him repair an ignition system in an hour, that another Time Lord had taken decades to work on, without any luck. He does work what look like miracles. But he has to get there first. He doesn't just snap his fingers and fix things."

"Okay," Glenn said, reluctantly.

"Would it be better to have Martha tell you the same thing?" Jack smirked. "Would you be less grumpy about accepting her testimony, like before?"

"Maybe," Glenn smirked back. They were silent again for a minute, then the kettle whistled, and Glenn poured the water into two of the mugs. He picked up one and handed it to Jack. "Look, can I apologise again? For what I did to you before?"

"You mean killing me?" Jack asked.

"I killed you twice, but it was the second one that I'm most sorry for," said Glenn, moving toward a table, and sitting down.

"Trying to steal my immortality." Jack sat down across from him. "You know, I've half a mind to let you have it."

"Still, I'm sorry."

"Accepted," Jack said. "But I forgave you already. You turned it around, and that took gumption. And as long as you stay on the straight and narrow, figuratively speaking, we're good."

"Thanks."

"Speaking of the straight and narrow, earlier I asked you about pangs, and you got sort of twitchy."

"I was reluctant to say so in front of Martha, but yeah, I reckon I do have wicked pangs sometimes. But don't get me wrong: I'm motivated to stay sober."

"Sober?"

"Er, yeah, I think of myself as an addict trying to kick the habit."

"Ah. I get it."

"I think of you three as my sponsors. Sort of."

"Cool. I've been where you are. The Doctor was my sponsor, you could say."

Glenn stared into his mug for a long moment, then, "I'm trying. I want this. But honestly, Jack, I don't know what happens if I lose them. They were my whole reason for giving up the evil life I was living…"

"That's why you've got to put one foot in front of the other, like Martha said," Jack said. "Find other things to live for, to stay sober for. Job. Flat. Friends. Dating."

"Eventually, I'd like to have all of those. Maybe not dating… not for a good while."

"Out of practise?"

"Was never good at it," Glenn admitted. "I'm pretty awkward. And funny-looking."

"Awkward yes. Funny-looking, no. Trust me, I'm a connaisseur. And awkward can fade over time."

"We can only hope."

"Do you like boys or girls?"

"Both, I think," Glenn said. "I'm just so green, Jack."

"Well, you'll find your footing - some confidence - eventually. I suspect having a job and your own place to live will help."

"Job. Right."

"You've got a lot to offer."

"Mm-hm. Under special skills on my curriculum vitae: can sense and wield specific types of energy from Ephemerals. Both absorption and release of energy are possible – ten years' experience."

"Well, can you also type?"

The Doctor and Martha reached the top of the stairs and turned right into a room with a hastily made queen-size bed with a fluffy white comforter, a huge modern-looking desk with a computer on it (more computer, and more desk, than Glenn's mother probably needed), and not much else. The bed also had a stuffed animal on it, lying sideways, and the desk blocked part of the double-wide wardrobe.

The Doctor picked up an envelope off the desk and read it. "Patricia O'Keeffe is her name," he said. Then he looked around. "And yeah. Something most definitely happened in here."

"Time anomaly in the guts?" Martha asked, far too casually at this stage.

"Mm," he said, affirmatively. "The cemetery is one thing, but this is an enclosed space. And two people got taken. The residual energy is still lingering after forty-eight hours."

He began aiming the sonic all over the room in various places, listening to the differentiated pulses.

"Wow, even I can hear that," she commented, on the higher tones nearer the computer.

"There's something else I need to know…" He adjusted the sonic, and began taking readings directly from the CPU. After a few moments, he said, "I'm not getting much here. Might need to turn the machine back on."

"What do you need to know?" she asked.

"Something that could have big implications for the TARDIS..." he asked still trying.

"That doesn't sound good."

"Nope, it doesn't, does it?" he said, absently. Then, "Yep, need to turn the thing on."

"Okay, but didn't Glenn say that he didn't do the shutdown sequence? He just shut it off?"

"Yeah," the Doctor said, ominously. "Yeah, he did."

"Well, I've had to do that before, when it's locked up. Sometimes when you turn it back on, the screen restores to where it was frozen. Bloody frustrating, that."

"Good point. Stand back, and just keep looking at that screen," he told her, though there was nothing currently on it. "You're going to have to be my eyes for a few moments."

She backed up to the door and braced herself. "All right. I'm ready."

"Ready? Sure?"

"Yeah."

"Don't blink."

"Doctor, I know how this works."

He nodded, and pressed the power button the CPU. There was a slight delay, and then a photo of Oystermouth cemetery came up on the screen.

And, much to their absolute horror, a fully-formed, six-foot-tall, transparent Weeping Angel appeared in the space in front of the computer.

"Oh my God, oh my God," Martha whispered, her heart in her throat. "Doctor, are you seeing this? It's huge!"

It was in its Weeping stance, but Martha had come to despise this stance above all, because it made them seem innocuous, which they were not.

"Yes, I see it! Just give me ten seconds!" and he took sonic readings, and swore.

"What? What's wrong?"

"I can't find what I need to know!"

"Doctor…"

"Martha, I'm sorry, just a few more seconds!"

"God, I thought it would just be the upper half crawling through the screen like a window!"

"Well, it's got more advanced. Two seconds…"

"Hurry!"

The sound of the screwdriver cut through the incredibly tense atmosphere. Finally, the Doctor swore again, and pressed the power button.

The Angel disappeared.

The Doctor stared at the spot where it had been.

"Couldn't find the readings you needed?" Martha asked, panting a bit.

"No, but I have a feeling that something was keeping me from getting them, and that is very bad news," he muttered. Then his eyes shifted to her. She was braced against the doorjamb looking horrified, and breathing hard. "Oh! Sorry! Are you okay?"

"I will be," she responded, heart in her throat.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, and he crossed the room, and took her into a hug.

"I bloody hate those things," Martha said, holding on tight.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't know why I didn't have Jack come up here with me. Actually, yes I do."

"I'm not afraid to be alone with Glenn," she told him. "Next time, bring Jack."

"Will do," he told her, kissing the top of her head.

Then he let go, and sat down on the bed, in a show of slight despair. She sat down beside him, took his hand, and rested her head against his shoulder. They just sat this way for about a minute.

"The way I see it, Martha, we've got three problems," the Doctor said. "And I'm having a very hard time deciding which one to tackle first. I know which one I want to tackle first, but which one is the bigger problem? Having the biggest impact on… well, all of us. People. The world. The universe."

"One problem is the Angels," said Martha. "What are the other two?"

"The Angels themselves, their presence, their potential for mayhem is one. The people who have already disappeared, like Glenn's mum, PC Diggs, Casey Dreyer, they are another. The third is, well, computers in general. Because the image of an angel is one thing, but what about information that worms its way into hard drives and whatnot? Depending upon how advanced the Angel is, and the computer's function…" he trailed off.

Martha sat up straight. "Well, I read a book a few years ago, written by one of those American personal-finance gurus. And it asked the question, what is the use of trying to save any money when you still have debt?"

"So you're saying, what's the use of saving people, as long as the Weeping Angels are still a threat?"

"Actually, Suze Orman is saying that. I'm just trying to help you posit a solution," she shrugged. "Because another school of thought might suggest that the human experience is more important than any of it, and the people lost should be saved at all costs, to preserve their lives and rights, and those of their families. I don't have a philosopher I can cite… other than yourself, of course."

"I'm a philosopher?"

"One of the best," she sang, simply. "And knowing that, is how I saved the world."

He smiled. "Interesting spin on things!" Then his face fell. "Trouble is, Martha, I don't know how to solve either of the first two problems. The Angels aren't your average villain. They're insidious in a way I've never really dealt with before, and getting more so by the minute. And unless anyone got zapped back in time with a mobile phone and universal roaming, and can call us, I would have no idea how to find them. Which is incredibly annoying because I'm a Time Lord, and these scavenging, time-eating monsters can best me! And have!"

"Sorry," she whispered, and stroked his hand. Her mind wandered a bit over the next thirty seconds, and then she sort of chuckled. "It's too bad the Angels aren't wands."

"What?" he asked, turning to look at her with a frown.

"Oh, sorry, that was out of nowhere, wasn't it?" she said, then chuckled again. "It's just, I've been reading the fourth Harry Potter book – well, I was, off and on when we were in Sainte-Maxime. You know, between trips to the beach and…"

"Yes, I know," he interrupted, with a smirk.

"In the book, there's this thing called Priori Incantatem."

"Latin. It means the former incantation."

"Yes, it's a spell you can put on a wand itself, to find out the last few spells that wand has cast. I'm just thinking, too bad we can't do that with the Angels."

The Doctor was quiet for a moment, then his eyes got huge, he reached out and kissed her hard, and said, "Oh, you are brilliant, Martha Jones!"

"It wasn't me, it was…"

He got up and dived under the huge computer desk. "Help me get this thing unhooked!"

I know it's a bit weird to bring a Harry Potter reference in, but I do that every now and then... we know Martha and the Doctor are both fans. Especially of book #4 ;-).

Well, thoughts? Leave a review, and absolutely make my day! Thank you for reading!