Barron Sharpe

[Iris, who's infected, is too tetchy to deal with this idiocy right now, and expresses her feelings with a graphic and obscene ungloved hand gesture at the communicator.]

This wouldn't be'appening if we weren't lettin' a flipping germ warfare specialist run loose round the bloody boat. Who let 'im into the bloody infirmary, any road?

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Really? Really? There are kids around here, do you really have to be doing that? [Barron... isn't as grossed out as he purports to be, because hey, he can dig some lady hand.]

A what now? Did one of the doctors do this?

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Oh please, if they're old enough to get stuck 'ere they're old enough to know what their body parts are for. 'Orrible little retrograde spawn, the lot of 'em.

[She sees you looking and makes another gesture, because Iris is a huge troll.]

No, you thinking-impaired mollusc, I'm talkin' about that filthy old corpse Davros. Someone turns 'is entire race into a filthy set of tentacled war machines an' we're okay with 'aving 'im treat decent people? Really? You people are all morons.

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[Barron would still be hung up on the hand, but the stuff about Davros is way more concerning for now.]

I can't really say that I've ever wanted to be a tentacled war machine, so I should probably keep an eye out for this asshole. What does he look like?

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Like a zombie in flagrante delicto with an espresso machine, you can't miss 'im. Wheeling 'imself round the bloody infirmary like 'e 'asn't devastated a thousand planets, the disgusting old bastard; I can't credit no one's dropped 'im down a liftshaft already. It's a deliberate insult to us, is what, making us breathe the same air as 'im. Someone should do something.

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I'm not really into murder right now. [Which is actually true.] I dunno which old guy you're talking about even with all of that, but I liked the bit about the espresso.

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[She gave Wade his katanas, but she has the sais herself; those lovely clean spikes that he makes look so good in the CTS. She's not nearly so expert with them, but Davros is a sitting target in every sense of the word. Why hasn't anyone dealt with him yet, anyway, that nasty old warmonger long past his sell by date? He's probably shedding infection from every pore, breathing it out in a poison cloud of hate.]

...It's not murder when it's defending the 'elpless, is it?

[Saving people, solving problems; it's what Iris does. She should have done it long ago. The decision's made, and she gives Barron a suddenly euphoric smile of resolution, then blows him a kiss from her fingertips.]

You'll be all right, sweetheart. It'll be over soon. Don't worry.

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[Someone's hunter sense is tingling.]

...Iris? Sunshine. Poptart. I'm... You feelin' okay?

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[INNOCENTFAIS]

Never better, cowboy. I expect I'm immune.

[Not like you semi-evolved primates. Good job you've got someone like Iris to take out the threat, isn't it?]

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[Yeah someone is not convinced.

But still sweetly.]

That why you're bouncing back and forth between personalities like hot flashes?

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Isn't there a single one of you futtering primates with a sense of priorities ever? I'm fine, you great gurning chimp; go an' round up some of the people puking all over the 'allways, why don't you?

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[Hey there, Mrs. Hyde.]

Been there, done that, got the scrub top. [No one's really puked on him yet, but it's the snappiest reply he has.] Why don't you?

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I'm 'elping out in the infirmary. I do 'ave medical training, you know.

[And weapons. And a pretty good knowledge of how a Dalek casing's put together.]

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Yeah? [Then he'll just head down that way for just a second...]

Well, good on you. Downright samaritanical. Ish. Ness. [Whatever.]

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I dunno. My warden says that it still is, but I guess other people might not. [This is a lie, Prefect hasn't had that conversation with Barron.]

Yeah, it's probably just a flood. I'll be fine.

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It's all in 'and, Barron lovey. Don't you fret now. Auntie Iris is on the case.

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