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Posted on 2006.10.23 at 13:44
Title - Aftermath Series
Fandom - Torchwood
Character - Owen
Rating - PG13
Author - magpie_quills
Spoilers - Ep 2 Torchwood


"How can we sit here eating Chinese while a girl is fighting for her life," she said.

It was a fucking Oscar winning performance, right down to the wobbling lower lip and huge doe-like eyes.  Then she'd gone and printed out the Suck-u-bus' bleeding CV and stuck it up on the walls.  Like they'd not checked into her background; known everything there was to know about her.  Right down to the style of knickers – bikini cut, not thong – that she preferred.

And hadn't Capt. Jack just lapped it up.

Maybe Toshiko was right; he  was straight.  Either that or he was in the market for a fag-hag.

Owen scowled and popped the clip from his gun.  He had been examining blood samples from Florence – it was how she'd have wanted to go, with a bang, not a whimper – but he was in too bad a form to concentrate.  So he cleaned his gun instead.  That he could do while ranting to himself.

He still didn't think little Miss Bleeding Heart was any replacement for Suzie.  OK, so Suze had gone a bit mental and started killing people.  She'd still been a good laugh.  A bit of a frosty knickers but a good laugh.  Besides, it weren't like none of them hadn't been tempted with a prime piece of kit before.  You go and give someone the power of life over death, even if it was for only two minutes, you couldn't act surprised when they went on a powertrip.

Owen set the gun on his workstation and grabbed the can of Red Bull from beside the stack of paperwork he never got around to.  He took a swig that emptied most of the can.  With a shrug he sucked out the rest, squashed the can and tossed it in the trash.  They needed to start making those things bigger.  He pulled the filing cupboard.  It was full of files.  He growled, closed the door, kicked the bottom of the drawer and opened it again.  Where the files had been a rippling silver veil hung over the drawer.  Owen reached into it.  The cold nipped at his fingers and made under his nails hurt.  He grabbed one of the cans he'd stashed there and pulled it out.  The face of his watch was frosted over.  He wiped it clean on his jeans.

Ok, so maybe the new bint had a point.  It didn't mean she had to be such a patronizing cow about it.  He'd half expected her to whip a tea towel out of her knickers and wrap it over her head.

Owen put the gun back together and slid it into his holster.  That had been another thing that rubbed him up the wrong way.

"Oh, Captain Jack," she'd twittered.  "I've never shot a gun before."

She might was well have dropped her knickers and asked him to show how to fire it with her twat.  Like any of them had known how to fire a gun before they came here?  This was Britain, not freaking New York.  Well, Suzie had.  But her Dad had a farm and she used to hunt rabbits.  It hadn't made her anymore comfortable with handguns than Owen or Toshiko.

She must have been comfortable enough with them at the end, though; when she shot herself.

Owen stretched, popping something loud and satisfying between his shoulder blades, then he called up the nights research.  New girl was probably harmless enough.  She just needed a good seeing to.  If Owen was able to isolate the pheromones that the Suck-U-Bus had generated, he'd give her a hand with that.  A hand and something else.

Never let it be said he wasn't a team player.


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