Autumn. Harvest time. Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.
“They got the mist part right,” Ianto muttered, stumbling over another rut.
Here they were, at night, out in the middle of nowhere, retrieving alien tech from a field - already harvested, thank God. Suddenly down comes the mist and they can’t see past the ends of their noses. Bloody freezing, too. Finding the tech had proved easy. The SUV, on the other hand…
It had to be around here somewhere.
A loud thud and a muffled curse came from Jack.
“Found it! Ow. Think I broke by doze.”