Whadda Weevil?

Ross stood at parade ground ease outside the office building that was UN.I.T tower of torture, or paperwork. He had a military issue gun held between both hands, scouting across the street from him, not much, tourists, business men and women, the normal populace of Cardiff leaving for the night. The higher powers had finally given in, seeing he was no good at office work, that the other temps didn't get along with real soldiers, that his manager was pissing about playing toy soldiers, and now he was a glorified security guard. Still it could be worse. He could be back filing menus.

Of all the buildings on the street this was the only one with an armed solider at the door, so it attracted a lot of attention, lots of tourist wanting photos, lots of people asking for directions, lots of questions he couldn't answer, but at least he got to smile prettily on people's holiday pictures. He was off soon, just half an hour his break before the late night shift when he got to sit at the front desk. Joy of joys. He cast his mind back to the last couple of days, him and his dog accidently stumbling upon Torchwood 3, meeting new people, fighting with new people, hurting himself. Lots. In theory he should still have the sling on, but it did little for a security guard.

10 minutes left. If anything that was going to make his shift over run it would be now. He heard a small bustle behind him but kept looking straight ahead, if they wanted him, they'd call, if they didn't; not his problem. Most the UN.I.T staff had already left for the night. Hearing a scream he finally turned. At the end of a scream from a young girl heading out for tonight, being faced down with a monster; or an Alien. A weevil to be precise. He ran to the end of the street, the girl was on the floor. He leapt out in front of the weevil. Looking up at the girl.

"Run. Quickly. Away." He shouted to the girl. Looking up at the weevil was now regretting his choice. Looking to his side, taking in his enviroment one alley, offices, weevil, oh and the big black glowing blue SUV. And guess who as at the wheel, only his favorite Dr. Harper. The dumb girl was still cowering behind him. /Twat\ He let a little growl out, just like in London, subdue, restrain, and deal with it. He swung the battle gun round on his chest strap round so it was on her back, pulling out a hand gun, holding it carefully in his left hand. "Easy." He pulled out some cuffs, and hoped that Torchwood was better prepared then he was.

Owen saw the weevil and the UNIT grunt with a gun out and swung the SUV in between the two of them, jumping out after he stopped the car, can of Anti-Weevil spray in one hand, handcuffs in the other. He quickly subdued the Weevil as Gwen Cooper came to help him put it in the back of the SUV. He turned and saw the the grunt was none other than Private Ross Jenkins. They'd met before when he had re-stitched the officer. Owen was certain that he'd been retconned, so when he walked over to the soldier to explain themselves, all he said was "Sorry, mate, Torchwood," he flashed his ID, "We know normally UNIT would take of this themselves, but we think this one's sick and want to see why. If you need verification, call Captain Jack Harkness--"

Tosh had called out that there was a weevil sighting in the city centre, so she and Owen had offered to go. Obviously Owen had insisted on driving, so when they finally found the damned thing she was feeling faintly nauseous. She jumped out the opposite side and held the weevil while he handcuffed it.
"Sorry, mate, Torchwood,"
Gwen smiled apologetically at the young UNIT officer.

Ross holstered the gun, and flexed his shoulder as the Dr., and his pretty friend loaded the weevil up. He turned to see the girl had finally had the sense to move.

"Sorry, mate, Torchwood,"

"Dr Harper. Sir." Watched rather amused to watch him flashing IDs, and verification codes at him. "No worries. What was I going to do, let him rip a few more holes in me and file him. Not exactly in active service at the moment. You should know that." He rolled his right shoulder back, producing a click, he'd moved it a bit fast when swinging the larger gun onto his back. He pulled it back round to the front, letting it hand from the shoulder strap.

"I take it she's Torchwood to?" He gestured to Gwen. The dark haired girl had a pretty smile, and an engagement ring on too. He smiled back at her. Giving her a salute, slowly, so as not to strain his arm. Again. "Private Ross Jenkins. At your service Ma'am."

Gwen checked the weevil was secure and properly subdued before turning her attention back to the young officer.

"I take it she's Torchwood to? Private Ross Jenkins. At your service Ma'am."
Gwen blushed ever so slightly "No need for all that Private Jenkins, I'm Gwen Cooper."
She turned to check the street for other casualties, only to find it had mysteriously emptied.

"Dr Harper. Sir."

Owen cocked an eyebrow. "You were supposed to be RetConned, Private," he said suspiciously.

He felt mysteriously like he should be stood to attention under this man's gaze, but resisted. "Nice to meet Ms. Cooper" he inclined his head to her with a smile.

"You were supposed to be RetConned, Private,"

"Well..." He felt like he was going to get Ianto into trouble here, not entirely his fault though. "I'm also supposed to be dead, if that helps, Doctor." He shrugged. "Didn't work out being RetConned though..." He was equally as suspicious back, bright blue eyes looking into Owen's.

He removed his Beret, tussling his hair, since technically he was off duty now, and his hair had been sat like that all day, before replacing it.

"Well..." He felt like he was going to get Ianto into trouble here, not entirely his fault though. "I'm also supposed to be dead, if that helps, Doctor."

"It doesn't," Owen replied curtly. "I'm going to have to ask that you come back with us."

Gwen cocked an eyebrow an Owen, wondering just what was going on.
Maybe in this case it would be best to keep quiet, afterall it was Owen here, not Jack.

"I'm going to have to ask that you come back with us."

He saw Gwen just watching, he already had a pretty good feeling on what Owen was like, and she was confirming it.

"Sorry. No can do." He looked at his watch. "Shit. I'm on break and I have a whole twenty minutes to get home and walk back here. Torchwood will have to wait." The radio was crackling in his ear, an annoying female voice came through.

"Jenkins what are you still doing here? No security breeches?" He pressed down on the link.

"Just leaving ma'am. And no, no security issues." He turned his back and walked away unchaining the red motorbike from in front building.

Owen narrowed his eyes at the soldier, shifting his weight, asked "You hurt your arm again?"

"You hurt your arm again?"

"No" He snapped suddenly very defensive. "It's just stiff, thats all."

He was taking the two hand guns out now, snapping the clips out of them before re-holstering them, and securing the clips. Tightening the strap on the combat gun, swinging it onto his back. He really should go lock the clips up somewhere, but he didn't really have time, so a pocket would have to do, he was coming back pretty soon anyway. He took his helmet from where it was balanced on the handle bars, he'd been around to watch the bike all day after all.

"I'm not completely stupid you know, I don't deliberately try and make IT hurt." His chest and arm injury was still a little bit of a sore subject. He snapped at Owen, "Oh, and Beau misses you." He referred to his Doberman, and it's over zealous greeting towards Owen, well more sort of take down.

Gwen watched Jenkins head towards a bike. He seemed to be walking more stiffly than one normally would.

"Oh, and Beau misses you."

Gwen was really sorting to feel left out now, and the little debate they were having seemed to be getting a little more heated, and a little louder.
"Does someone want to explain to me whats going on?"
Gwen crossed her arms and stared at them.

Owen looked at Gwen. "Private Jenkins here 'stumbled' into the tourist office and tore his stitches. I fixed him up, despite the fact that his fucking dog attacked me. Ianto was supposed to have him retconned."

Gwen cocked an eyebrow at Owen, before staring down Jenkins.
"Well? What do you have to say for yourself then?"

Ross rolled his eyes at Owen's retelling of events. He looked at Gwen with a sweet smile. "He's got it wrong Ms., I don't mean to call him a lair but I ripped my stitches when my dog pulled me over and ran off, he happened to run into your little fake real tourist office, where Mr jones gave me a hand." He turned to Owen more aggressively.

"Yes, because he really maimed you quite badly. It was life or death the way he almost licked you." He snarled at Owen. "And I tore the stitches Ianto did in the first place."

He took his beret off, rolling it onto his collar.

"And if you don't mind, I'm overdue some pain-meds, and I'm already late for this shit hole." He gestured to the building behind him violently, with a slight grimace as he felt the burns tighten. "Ma'am" he nodded to Gwen, he may be pissed with Owen, but there was no need loose his manners. He shoved his helmet on roughly, swinging his leg over the bike, and snapping down the visor.

Gwen was a little shocked at the fact he'd been immensly polite and swearing in the same sentence and had managed to pull it off. Maybe Owen wasn't been particularily arse-y and something was up.
She stepped in front of his bike before he could even put the keys in the ignition.
"I'm sorry Private, but we need to detain you for the time being. We'll notify your employers of the situation."
She reached over and took the keys from his hand.

"I'm sorry Private, but we need to detain you for the time being. We'll notify your employers of the situation."

Owen was glad Jack had sent Gwen with him. Rarely was there a situation that she could not control.

As Gwen took the keys out of the officer's hands, Owen noticed something.

"You've torn your stitches again, haven't you?"

"I'm sorry Private, but we need to detain you for the time being. We'll notify your employers of the situation."

He wanted to laugh.

"You don't know what this place is do you. Unified Intelligence Task-force: Cardiff." He said with a smile. "Where UN.I.T paperwork comes to die. Do you really think they're going to let Torchwood march in and do as they wish? No offense but UN.I.T in my experience doesn't like you lot."

And now she had his keys. That was just fan tabby do dah. He took his helmet off and set it on the pavement. He wasn't going anywhere fast. He pulled the combat gun round, loosening the strap and gently lifting it over his head, setting it next to the helmet.

"No" He said firmly, trying to keep his temper, but failing, the last month of his life was catching up with him. "But I haven't slept decently in nearly three weeks, without pain-meds the one half of my chest feels like it's melting. And trust me I have a pretty good idea of what that feels like. I have been stood here playing toy-solders all day, and now am getting all this bullshit for helping someone. So I'm just Swell thank you very much Doctor Harper.

Gwen gave a little sarcastic smile to Jenkins.
"Look, we're not completely useless, despite what you and your employers think. Now I'm sorry i'm pulling rank on this one. You're coming with us."
She moved round the bike to his side and placed a hand on his good arm and gave it a small squeeze.
"Look, I realise your having a shit day, but come with us we'll get you some decent painkillers and you can rest before you talk to us, ok."

He stood up, not feeling like he had much choice. Bending down and grabbing the gun, before cracking up at full attention, without the salute.

"Look, I realise your having a shit day, but come with us we'll get you some decent painkillers and you can rest before you talk to us, ok."

"And then you'll retcon back into the 90s whilst my dog pisses over my flat, and a court-martial gets filed, and get back-benched permanently. Really I think if we just pretend this never happened and carry on with life. Ma'am." He gave her a little smile.

Now even Gwen was starting to get pissed off at this guy.
"Stop calling me ma'am."
She sighed and tried to release some of the tension in her muscles.
"I think if 'we just pretend' you never said any of that we'll get on fine. Now come on."

"Yes Ma'am" He replied dully, paying little attention to what she said. Looking just above her head, and planning on saying Yes Ma'am and No ma'am in all the appropriate places. Is she was "pulling rank" so to speak, he would deal with her like he used to deal with officers when he was at a base or camp.

Very polite, very numb, and the same as every other soldier. He was tired and bored with his new found freedom where everything was harder then it should be, and he was expected to decide everything, and put up with everything and on top of that, behave.

Owen rolled his eyes. "C'mon then, let's go. That thing'll be awake soon," he said, motioning towards the SUV with his head.

Gwen nodded. She grabbed Jenkins' gun and helmet and put them on the floor by her seat before climbing in the passenger side.