Disoriented Cosmos {A Torchwood Story} [COMPLETED]

25. She Doesn't Look Like A Barbara

Owen and I leave the supermarket, each hauling a bag of groceries laughing about the mole on our cashier. It's the most jovial attitudes we've had around each other since he started shagging Suzie.
I've been decidedly distant because I don't want to be around: one, the blatant disregard of personnel resources; and two, the underlying feeling I've had every time I've seen him in the last few weeks that I'm becoming attracted to him. That really has put a dampener on our friendship.

We walk down our usual alley, joking together until Owen looks away and stops in his tracks.
I look his way, and tut in domestic irritation at a Weevil wandering about.

"What's it doing there? I thought we rounded them all up for this week," I complain, and dig in my pocket for my spray and phone as Owen looks between the alien and I uncertainly.

"Uhh, Evelina?"
"Yeah?" I say distractedly as I get out the spray, and just in time it seems as the Weevil tries to get close with its teeth bared, so I spray.
"Umm," he says in an amusingly fearful voice, "what is that?"
"Oh, it's just a Weevil," I reply dismissively, forgetting if we showed him them in the cells or not.

Jack's line opens and as I spray again I say, "Hey, Jack, we found a Weevil in an alley near the Lidl in Splott, can you come and help us contain it?"
"Is it Josie? She's a little bugger; if anyone's escaped from the cells, it's her."
I hear footsteps on stone and the creak of the heavy door to the cells, followed by my boss swearing.
"Yeah, she's gone, you've found Josie. Gimme like twenty minutes - is there anything you can trap her in for the time being?"

I look around, still keeping Josie at bay, and spot a leftover shipping container round the back of the shop. "Yeah, big shipping container behind Lidl. Hop in the car and step on it; we'll keep her in there til you're here."

I flip my phone shut and spray Josie again. "Over there, you silly bugger!" I complain to her, and out the corner of my eye is Owen standing in the middle of a circle of shopping bags, expression suspicious and quite concerned.

"Evy," he asks, "what is that?"
"A Weevil - jeez, calm down," I huff, the jokiness of a few minutes ago gone, and I dig in my pocket and find my mini handgun to chuck him.
He catches it expertly, hours of Tosh's teaching put to good use, and hesitantly aims it at Josie's head.

I immediately scold him: "Not her head! Weevils are simple creatures: all they know is run and hide and attack; you just need to wait til the last minute before she comes at you, then just shoot her in the leg. Not the head."
He scowls. "Well sorry, your Maj."
He re-aims his fire to Josie's leg and I guide her into the shipping container where I shut the door and tell Owen to stand at the other end in case she escapes that way.

Owen just stands there, gawping incredulously. "...Why is it called Josie?!"

I shrug. "Because she doesn't look like a Barbara."