“Ow!” Owen yelped, covering his head as yet another small copper disc hit him on the head. “Fuckin’ Hell, that smarts!”
“I told you to bring your umbrella,” Ianto smirked, safely ensconced under his own, the metal ‘raindrops’ bouncing harmlessly off the taut waterproof fabric and landing on the ground with muted clinks.
Further across the Plas, Jack, also under an umbrella, was dancing about, singing ‘Pennies From Heaven’ while collecting the falling coins.
“They’re not even earth money,” Owen griped. “They’re from some planet nobody’s ever heard of. Why couldn’t we ‘ave a rain of toads like normal people?”