Title: "For Days"
Author: monimala
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Classification: SAC, second person pov, Owen/Gwen-ish, het and slash mentions.
Disclaimer: Uncle Russell owns all.
Summary: 515 words. A post-ep for TW 1.04, "Cyberwoman," that also incorporates some bio information from the show's official web site. Jack encourages her to have a normal life. And she's having at it all right.
Note: Apologies for the potential butchering of Britspeak.

You watch her leap up when her mobile rings. She takes the call to Suzie's desk, where it's nice and quiet and no one will interrupt her while she talks to him. Him. The boyfriend. The one who makes her face light up and tells her to pick up curry chips on the way home and watches sodding Footballers' Wives with her after she's scrubbed the alien muck from her face.

Jack encourages her to have a normal life. And she's having at it all right. (Practically flaunting it.) Jack, you've concluded, needs to shut his gob. At first, you thought it was just because you'd all placed bets behind her back to see how long she and Him-The-Boyfriend were going to last and Jack was giving her a reverse psychology push toward his chosen date in the pool. Then, you reckoned that dear ol' Captain Hard Ass was just spouting all that touchy-feely bullshite to cover the fact that he wants her for himself. Until you remembered that Jack more or less gets what he wants at all times...including you that one glorious weekend in Brighton that left you sore for days. (If there was ever a man to turn poncy for, it's Jack Harkness.)

Now, you've decided that Jack wants to torment you. Because it's the only rational explanation for why you feel...well, *tormented* by the fact that Gwen Cooper eats curry chips with another man. Really. It's ridiculous. You're Dr. Owen Harper, you've shagged plenty of women and you don't even *like* chips. Some silly bint you work with shouldn't even register on your radar. (Of course that doesn't explain Tosh and likely never will since she refuses to even acknowledge the two years you both spent convinced you were going to get married and have obnoxiously brilliant brats).

Gwen comes back to the conference table practically glowing. She leans over Jack's shoulder to grab a slice of pizza -- which you ever so helpfully picked up. (They stopped sending delivery girls 'round after what happened to the last one.) You pretend not to notice the way her jumper clings to her chest...and pretend not to remember how said chest felt rubbing all over you. You think you do a perfect facsimile of "vaguely boorish insouciance." Too good, in fact, since Tosh kicks you in the ankle.


"Down, Owen," she murmurs, rolling her eyes.

It's on the tip of your tongue to tell her that it's a bit late for that...that you've already snogged Gwen in a morgue drawer so what's a little leering between friends, right? But you're not *that* boorish or insouciant. Instead, you pick pieces of pepperoni off what's left of your lunch, making a mental note to stash a few in the couch cushions and drive Ianto to distraction. You picture several inventive ways to kill Him-The-Boyfriend, none of which are actually a feasible option. You give half an ear to whatever official Torchwood nonsense Jack is going on about.

And you remember that Gwen kissed you back.


November 7, 2006.

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