Rating: R
Characters: Owen/Gwen with a little Jack/Gwen
Summary: When Owen kisses her the first time everything is hot and sharp and even the cool metal around them can't smother the fire inside. Season 1 tag.
The safest road to Hell is the gradual one--the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts.
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Gwen doesn't mean for it to start.
Owen does.
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When Owen kisses her the first time everything is hot and sharp and even the cool metal around them can't smother the fire inside. They're moments away from dying; they're going to die when his hand forces her head towards his. He tastes sour and his body is rock hard beneath her when she hears the heavy, clumsy footsteps outside the morgue drawer.
Gwen pulls away, looks at him in the dark with wide, startled eyes even as her heart leaps in her chest and her hips twist against his. His eyes brighten momentarily and something warm unfurls inside her belly.
Then her phone rings and oh god Rhys. They're going to die and please this can't, this can't-
Her last action won't be this kiss
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Gwen watches the sun rise over Cardiff. She is warmed by Jack's words and the heavy weight of his arm across her shoulder even as his understanding overwhelms her. There are three new bodies in the morgue and the team feels splintered. Gwen thinks about Owen and the kiss that left her so much more aware. She remembers the look on his face, the edge to his voice when he tried to protect her.
She falls asleep in one of extra beds with Jacks words in her ears and tries to ignore the sound of Iantos breaking heart.
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Toshiko's slumped over her desk, glasses pushed off her face when Gwen sees Ianto drape a blanket over her shoulders. He looks past her and into Jacks office, body ridged. When he looks at Gwen she can feel the guilt in her stomach solidify after his face doesn't change.
"He'll be ok." Owens voice is soft but unexpected behind her.
She thinks about Lisa's funeral and Ianto's stony silence. He has nowhere else to go, no one to take him in. No one to talk to.
"I hope so," she says and Owen touches her shoulder briefly. The warmth of his hand is fleeting.
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It's near midnight on some nameless street. Owen has his hand balled up in her jacket, breath hot across her face. Gwen tells him no, once, twice and then kisses him before he bends her over the soft leather seat of the car. It hurts, god it hurts and she can feel the muscles in her back and arms burn when he pulls sharply at her jeans and underwear.
Gwen feels dirty but so alive when he pushes into her. She thinks about Ianto, about the understanding Jack holds from him and closes her eyes, surrenders herself to the building sensation.
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It's a slow death, the hot metal burrowing inside her head. Gwen can feel Jack's anger when Owen holds her, tight and panicky. She feels cold and she can see the gathering darkness in her vision, the hell Susie spoke of waiting. Gwen doesn't want to die, not in Owen's arms, away from Rhys. She can't stop thinking about her life, boxes besides Susie's. "Owen, Owen," she says and can't get out the words she wants, can't call for Jack to be here with her. He's done this before, eased into the darkness.
She can hear Susie's laughter and then there is light, white hot across her vision as something ripples through her.
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There is surprise and regret caught in her throat when she wakes against the white washed walls of the infirmary. Gwen blinks and her eyes focus on Jack above her, the warm hand on her wrist an anchor.
"Welcome back," he says.