Almost Perfect by James Goss Page A

for speed-dating, or something… different’s going on here. I mean look – here she is last night.’
    They looked. They saw what she meant.
    ‘It’s not like she’s had work done, it’s just like she’s… better.’
    ‘Emma 2.0,’ said Ianto.
    Jack nodded. ‘Now she’s… stunning. She’s perfect.’
    Perfect. They both looked at Ianto.
    He coughed. ‘I’ll go and make some more coffee, shall I?’
    Two sets of eyes watched him go.

EMMA WEBSTER IS ABOUT TO
BE OFF THE MARKET AGAIN
    He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not.
    Who am I kidding?
    He loves me.

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 Captain Corelli . Honestly, by the time you slip in some mints and a spare pair of tights, it’s full house, I can tell you.’
    Jack arched an eyebrow.
    The traffic warden tapped on the windscreen.
    Jack held up his Torchwood ID. The