You Can't Go Home Again [Ed and Victor]

[fractured_agent]

Another typical night in Cardiff.

The streets are dark and quiet, no one seeming to be out and about... except for a bright red convertible roaring down the empty roads, its driver just as flashy and colorful as the vehicle. The blowfish laughs, slightly unhinged, as he accelerates through the red lights, swerving dangerously across both lanes.

And behind him, bringing up the rear, is a pitch-black Range Rover with blue LEDs flashing. Torchwood Three gives chase, with Owen Harper at the wheel, as Toshiko Sato tracks the car with one of her many alien and advanced devices.

Comments

[fmalchemist160]

For a moment, Ed doesn't think he can do it either. He's still working on his aim, and hasn't been using a gun for much longer than Gwen has. And with all the focus he's placed on learning guns recently, sometimes he overlooks his primary talent.

It doesn't take him long to spot an opening, thankfully. The blowfish is anticipating a gun fight—he won't be expecting a different avenue of attack. And Ed remembers what Ianto told him about the blowfish's anatomical weaknesses.

He maintains eye contact with the blowfish, then, with the usual lightning speed he exhibits when he's in the midst of an adrenaline rush, claps his hands and slaps a palm against the nearest wall, transmuting a hard stone fist that comes rocketing towards the blowfish, from the wall to the side the woman isn't on, and aimed right at his gills. The fist is moving fast enough that the blowfish won't have a very large window in which to react—though there will still be a window, obviously.

[fractured_agent]

The blowfish has just enough time to react, but unfortunately all he has time for is turning his head to see what that movement is, and the stone fist punches him square in the face. He cries out and loosens his grip on the woman.

Gwen reacts quickly, lunging forward and tugging the woman from the alien's grasp. He snarls at her, raising his gun to try to shoot at someone, anyone.

A shot rings out. The blowfish stands for a moment, surprised, then collapses with a neat little hole in the dead center of his forehead.