RHYS WILLIAMS IS A CHANGED MAN
After his first decent night’s sleep in days, Rhys woke up and lumbered out of bed, neatly ignoring Gwen’s stabbing foot and her murmur of ‘tea… tea… tea…’
He switched on the shower, started cleaning his teeth and hunting out some clothes for the day – all without a single thought in his head. And, when he did have a thought, it was to glimpse his reflection in the mirror and think, ‘Looking good, boy.’
He got out of the shower, marvelling at how that new shower gel really did leave him feeling tingling and refreshed. Gwen pottered into the bathroom, started cleaning her teeth and then stopped, brush motionless, foam flecking her mouth. ‘Mmmkhing hell!’ she managed, paste dribbling onto the floor.
‘What?’ asked Rhys, towelling himself down.
Gwen’s eyes were wide. She pointed at him with her brush.
‘You’re looking… well, different, that’s all, Rhys. Taller.’
Rhys shrugged. ‘A bit of attention from another woman, that’s all it takes for you to see what you’ve got, love.’
‘Ha. Ha,’ muttered Gwen. She was knackered. Jack was right. She hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep this week.
‘Hey, love, I reckon I’ve lost a bit after all, you know. I swear these jeans are hanging off me.’ He stood proudly in front of her, thumb pulling out the spare fabric.
‘They stretch, you know,’ muttered Gwen, without really looking. And then she really looked. ‘Where did you get that six pack?’
‘What?’ And then Rhys looked in the mirror. And a grin lit up his face. ‘Bloody hell, love! I’m staying at home today and washing the car. Topless.’
Gwen narrowed her eyes. Bless Rhys. Last time he lost weight, he’d been infected with an alien parasite. This time – well, she wasn’t inclined to believe that doughnuts and risotto were the magical keys to unlocking abdominal strength.
‘Well done, love,’ she said, keeping the worry out of her voice. Rhys seemed taller, broader – and even his face was a bit different. Slightly… well, more like he’d look in the movie of his life.
She looked at him stood there, hands on his hips, grinning at his reflection in the mirror. ‘Bloody marvellous, this! I look perfect!’
As she went to put the kettle on, she noticed his grey hairs were gone and really, really started to worry.
IANTO MISSES POCKETS
They were sat in the Torchwood SUV. A traffic warden was coming towards them across the car park. Jack was sat humming quietly to himself. Gwen realised, sadly, that the man had no real idea what ‘Pay and Display’ actually meant.
‘Ianto, hun, could you go and feed the meter? Quickly.’
‘Sure,’ said Ianto, and hefted something onto his lap the size of a labrador with handles. It appeared to be the world’s largest handbag. He dived into it muttering, ‘I’m sure I’ve got a purse in here somewhere.’
Gwen stifled a laugh. ‘Oh, no one needs a bag that large!’
Ianto looked up, puzzled. ‘But, I needed something big enough for my gun. And my house keys, and my MP3, and the phone, the PDA, the chargers, and a copy of
Jack arched an eyebrow.
The traffic warden tapped on the windscreen.
Jack held up his Torchwood ID. The traffic warden shook his head.
Jack looked back, placatingly, and started fishing around in his pockets. ‘Honestly, we save this city from alien disaster several times a year, and they still make us adhere to parking regulations. Do you know who really developed the internal combustion engine? Torchwood did. And this is the thanks we get. Well, that and one-way systems – the product of a tiny mind.’ Jack pouted, looking for all the world like a spoiled child. It was at moments like this, those rare moments when little things didn’t go Jack’s way, that Gwen saw the true hero. A man not frightened by vast evil, corrupt states or lost souls, but baffled by pettiness, bureaucracy and muddling mediocrity. Why he had sentenced himself to Wales, she would never really understand.
They were parked outside Rhys’s work.
That morning, Gwen had stormed into Torchwood, magnificently worried.
‘My husband’s too pretty!’ she’d yelled. ‘You’ve got to do something, Jack!’ She caught the look in his eye. ‘Don’t you go sassing me, Harkness. I am deadly serious.’
‘Sass?’ tutted Jack in mock affront. ‘I don’t do sass, do I? I prefer to think of it as kittenish charm. What do you think, Ianto?’
‘Definitely kittenish,’ said Ianto.
‘Sod the kittens,’ Gwen was in full flow. ‘Rhys woke up bloody gorgeous this morning, and I want to find the woman who’s done that to him.’
As she spoke, she was flinging photos from her phone up onto the Hub’s screens, until pictures of Rhys bobbed across the wall. Some were of their wedding, two were before and after shots of the back of his head, and one was of him this morning, wearing only a towel and waving sheepishly at the camera.
‘Look at Rhys!’ Gwen shrieked. ‘Overnight he’s gained an extra two inches!’
Jack carefully didn’t say anything. Ianto examined the intricate walnut inlay of the table surface.
Gwen pressed on. ‘It’s not natural. It’s wrong, that’s what it is. He goes on a date with a supermodel. He wakes up the next day all Abercrumpet. Shortly after Ianto wakes up bloody gorgeous. Buzzz! I rather do think there just may be a link.’
She suddenly knew she had Jack’s full attention. Finally.
‘Emma Webster. This woman is speed-dating, Jack. She is combing through Cardiff’s singletons – those she likes get a free makeover, those she doesn’t end up dead. Whatever she’s using, whatever her power, it’s not been around more than a week. She’s got her hands on some alien thing and… and… she’s using it to make her ideal man.’
‘Rhys?’ said Ianto and Jack.
They looked again at the picture of the jovial, weakly smiling bloke drifting across the walls of their boardroom.
GWEN IS THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER
‘Oh, hi, Gwen,’ said Large Mandy from the office, laughing her normal large laugh. ‘Are you here for Rhys? He’s just on the phone. Would you like a doughnut?’
Gwen glanced at the plate full of pastries. Mandy was obviously Rhys’s enabler, keeping him fuelled on whatever crap she could lay her hands on. Ah well. She wondered how Mandy had taken Rhys’s sudden transformation. And then she found out.
‘I must say, Gwen, love, he’s looking knockout today. The girls from upstairs have been popping down to have a peek. He’s quite something – I’ll say this, married life suits him. Not like my Ted. Oh, I tell you, you wouldn’t believe the size of him these days. I always tells people I work in haulage and they looks at Ted and they laughs. It’s our little joke, see.’ Mandy laughed. ‘I’m glad we lives in a bungalow these days, or lord alone knows how I’d get him up and down the stairs.’
‘Right,’ said Gwen. This was about all she could ever think to say to Mandy.
Rhys popped his head round the door. ‘Gwen? I thought it was you.’
