N.A.: Before you ask me, não, não é em português. Não, não é relacionada a Harry Potter. Torchwood fannon, here I go.

Like The Earth To The Moon

Owen was to Toshiko what the Earth was to the moon. She didn't live for him, but around him. He had this magnetic power over her, that kept her going in circles around him and around herself, searching for a way, a path, an escape route, that was bound to never be there. Whilst she shone under the solar lights, he was the bigger one, the most magnificent and intricate, the one people looked up to with awe. Se was delicate, he was strong; and, above all things, Toshiko believe they were captivating to each other. If ever, by any crazy circumstances, nature pulled them apart, a disaster was bound to happen; he'd spin crazily around the universe, and she'd loose her reason to be. Above all things, Toshiko felt connected to Owen's existence, as if she couldn't be what she was without him.

Owen's view on the subject was slightly different. Yes, he'd see himself as the Earth, and Toshiko as the moon. He had already understood that they danced around each other in perfect balance, never touching but forever close. He'd see her as the utmost mystery; he'd study her, he'd go to her every once in a while, but he could never get too close. If he did, he felt the universe would enclose. She shone beautifully, and sometimes he'd hide her, sometime she'd hide him; sometimes she'd look bigger than the sun, sometimes she'd just disappear in a mess of darkness and cold. But it didn't matter where they were, what they were doing or in which state of their relationship they were in, he'd always feel a pull to her, almost as if she were the only beautiful thing that he managed to keep close to his heart.

She woke up on her sofa, feeling slightly nauseated. Her head throbbed, and her stomach twisted awfully, entwining itself with her spleen in the most ghastly way. She considered the idea of throwing up for a second, and then hid her face against the armrest. No, throwing up would just be a lot of trouble, especially when she didn't feel like opening her eyes, moving a muscle or even breathing.

- 'Ello there – she forced her eyes to open up slowly, and focused on Owen's sleepy face, on the mug he had on his hands, on the coffee-ish vapors that filled the space between them. She felt even more nauseated. What was Owen doing in her place? Shit, why couldn't she remember anything from last night?

- What happened? – she forced tingling fingers upon her forehead, to see if there were any bumps on it; she couldn't be with that much of a headache without having hit her head against something very solid. Owen smirked at her, and offered the mug.

- It's called a hangover. Can't believe you never had one before – she picked the mug out of politeness, and sat down on the sofa frowning hard.

- I don't recall drinking.

- It's part of the hangover process to forget you drank – he stood up warily and stretched – I'd guess it's self-preservation.

- When did I drink? – she looked up at him - Why did I drink?

- Because I told you to – he nodded towards the coffee cup – And that's the sole reason I made you coffee. Your hangover is my fault; it's my duty to heal it. So drink up techie.

He disappeared out of her sight for a couple minutes and she leant against the couch, eyes closed, not daring to sip the coffee. She had the impression that, if she ever decided to put anything to her mouth, she'd spill all of it and a whole bunch of gastric fluids too, and that was not a really appealing idea. Her mind wondered again about why Owen was at her place, making coffee at – she checked her watch – five twenty-three in the morning. When he came back, he was also armed with a cup of steaming coffee, and he sat by her side on the couch, eyes closed too.

- What happened last night, Owen? – he shrugged, but she couldn't see it.

- Tommy – he finally muttered, and like a cold wave, realization fell upon her. Tommy had trusted her, and she had thrown him to the lions, thrown him into certain and terrible death. She felt remorse all over herself again, and a painful stab as a quick memory of Mary appeared at the back of her head, and finally opened her eyes. Although she now remembered why she followed Owen's suggestion of drinking, the reasons why he was by her side at the moment were still very much blurry.

- Ah.

She stared at the space for a few seconds, but was suddenly brought back to Earth when Owen's hand fell upon hers in an awkward touch.

- I'm sorry about him – he mumbled, and she turned to face him with a smile, her head throbbing more than never – It was a bit fucked up, but I didn't want you or him to get hurt, and…

- Shut up, Owen – she smiled at him, standing up slowly; she couldn't force herself to ask him anything about last night – I think I'm going to get a shower.

- Oh, okay – he nodded and drank his coffee, still in the couch; she moved towards her bedroom, but his voice stopped her – Well, aren't you gonna ask it?

- Yes, I will – she turned fully and stared him straight in the eye, steaming cup of coffee still in hands, tired smile yet tinting the lips – Owen, did you rape me?

His eyes went wide in shock, and he stood up fast, opening his mouth in protest.

- Bollocks, Tosh, no! – she nodded curtly and turned around again.

- Very well, I can deal with anything else.

She might as well be able to deal with what could've happened last night, but Owen didn't; he was not the type of guy that felt for people, and he had been very confused ever since he'd discovered those things in his chest.

He could remember quite well when all the confusion had started. When Jack died, and Gwen stood by the side of that body for bloody days.

It freaked the shit out of him.

He and Tosh would take turns watching Gwen through the CCTV, making sure she was okay, that she wasn't going to become crazy-over-the-top-Gwen and start shooting people right left and center. He'd worry about Gwen, and feel guilty, and scared – what the fuck would they do if the rift opened up again? Who'd they count on? Jack was fucking gone, for bollock's sake. – so he'd lean on Tosh for support. She was almost as fucked up about the situation as him, but just not as much, so he'd rely on that part of her that was forever whole, forever untouched to stay sane.

And she stood by him when he needed. That was when that whole thing started – the funny feelings curling up into his chest, nestling, turning it into their home – or at least when he finally noticed. He noticed that she stood there, always getting hit by the things that were meant for him, protecting him, just like the moon did with the Earth.

But whilst she did manage to protect him fine from the alien attacks, and to guard his back, she could do nothing to stop the things that went up inside of him. He kept his feelings hidden so deep and for so long that when they burst out it was like a big explosion that wrecked him completely, just as an earthquake or a volcano worked on Earth. That was why he hated to feel. But he felt anyways; he felt that fear, the panic, the guilt, and all that nestle of new feelings that spending more time with Toshiko brought up on him. He felt he owed her. He felt he owned her.

The relationship they once had, before Suzie, before Gwen, before it all went downhill and into hell with Diane, it was back. The easy laughter, despite the bad times, and the comfort, it was all back. He'd missed it. He hadn't quite noticed it before he actually needed her again, but he had missed her like he'd never missed something before. And now that he leant on her, he had a feeling of possession and of gratitude the topped the whole friendship deal he'd gotten so used to once. It was all very complicated, because he had felt that same way with Diane, but in a different manner all the same, and it scared the shit out of him even more. He'd go for her when he needed a friend, a shoulder to cry on, someone to try and help him feel more at peace, but if she drew too close, he'd fleet.

Notwithstanding his fleeting, she'd still come to him sometimes. When she needed just to talk to someone, or a company for drinks or a game of Counter-Strike, she'd look for him. She wouldn't let him fleet when she was the one in need, she'd fight for his presence, for the comfort she knew he could give, and that got him even more freaked out, his ability to understand and help her. But it didn't matter how freaked he was, or how he would snap at her from times to times, she'd still be there, smiling at him, being quiet and nice and Toshiko-ish, and those weird feelings that he tried so much to run away from would catch up with his heart and would huddle him in a tight embrace, not letting him go, just as she did. And they remained friends. They stood up for each other. They helped each other.

And then Jack came back. He felt afraid, like the presence of Toshiko's old hub-pal would fuck up the newly re-built relationship they shared, but it didn't. Jack's presence and his lack of trust in Owen from time to time only seemed to draw Tosh and the doctor closer. He tried to hide even from himself the way he hoped Jack would be pissed, sometimes, just because he wanted Toshiko's comforting presence by his side; but it was just too strong of a feeling to be kept away from the cracks in his soul, and through the cracks the feeling showed, and more and more often Jack would be nasty to him whilst sporting a sauntering smile.

Until that day. That fucking day of the year when they took Tommy out of his frozen peace. The day when she arrived more beautiful than ever, hair held away from her piercing eyes, body tucked neatly into a blue dress that made her fucking glow. He'd never seen her more beautiful, but all he could do was make stupid witty remarks about how she looked, feeling his heart pounding hard in his chest; she supposedly had a crush on him since forever, and yet she had never gotten so dressed up to see him. He felt jealous… To the extent of ridiculousness. But he also felt worried. He'd seen that happening enough times – them getting attached to people/things they had to use and dispose – to know how it ended, and that was a broken heart and too many repeats of an old Celine Dion track. He didn't want Tosh to be hurt, so he tried warning her, but it didn't work out, she just blew him away. And above all things, even above that mess and bundle of feelings that had turned Owen's chest into their home, he was a proud man. So he just let her free to hurt herself, and prepared himself to hold her when she fell.

He wasn't disappointed in his expectations. It wasn't even the next day when Tommy was used and disposed by Jack, and Tosh had to help in the task. And he went for her. Very unlike the normal in their relationship, he went after her, ready to see her crumbling into his arms, sobbing and full of sorrow. He'd forgive her and help her forget, and would be there for her now that she really needed him.

Except she didn't seen to need him at all.

He rested his arms against the railing, feeling the chilling breeze from the bay hit straight in his face. He knew his cheeks were flushed, partially from cold, and partially from being around her to do what he had to do. She smirked, but didn't look up at him, eyes glued to the gray horizon ahead.

- He trusted me. Right to the end – he looked at her, still beautiful, unique and sad. He pondered how she'd react if he hugged her, but pushed the thought away as fast as he could. That would be too complicated.

- Because you were strong – and he meant it. Only a strong person would function properly after Jack dying and disappearing; and furthermore, only a strong person would function properly in such a situation and would drag him into being normal-ish too. And she had been strong many times before, strong enough to do the right thing even if it shattered her heart, as she had done with Tommy and Mary. She looked up at him, slightly surprised (he wasn't really the type of bloke to give away compliments as if it were beads on Mardi Gras), and he looked back at her before stretching a hand over the railing and point at the bay – All of this. It's still here because of you – his hand lowered as he exchanged a look with her. She didn't look very much touched at his revelation, and stared back at the bay; he watched as she shook her head, and drifted his eyes away from her pretty figure with consternation. Anything he ever said would be good enough?

- Because of Tommy – a jolt of jealousy pulsed through him, as he stared ahead, jaw clenched – Let's hope we're worth it.

And just like that she left. No tears, no exasperation, no hugging. She just walked away, and he watched the sad spring in her step for a moment, before realizing what he was doing and turning back to look at the bay. His own feet bounced a little as he fought his urge to run after her, and when she had already turned around the teeny church and into the main plaza, he lost his fight. She was depressed. He could tell from her tone that she felt guilty and terrible, and he didn't want her to do anything stupid. He'd follow her home just to make sure she was ok, and then he'd go to his own house, thus allowing himself to get some rest from those arousing feelings in his chest. Simple and chaste, just like it had to be.

He had to run some, but he finally got himself in a safe distance, where he could follow her and not be seen; they went through all those streets he was so familiar with, until Toshiko did a sharp turn into an alley he'd never seen there before. He followed her nonetheless, sure she'd go grocery shopping or something of the sorts, until he felt a hard thug against his chest and someone tackling him into the floor.

- Ouch, Tosh! – his hands went straight to her shoulders, pushing her away in order to allow fresh air to come to his lungs once more.

- Owen? – she asked, not moving a centimeter.

- What do I have to do to fucking prove you it's me? Grab your tits? – he pushed her some more, and with a repressed giggle she finally got off of him.

- Yes, that's you for sure.

He sat on the floor and noticed finally that she had tackled him into a puddle of yuck. He cleaned the back of his head with his hands and sent her a piercing look.

- What the fuck were you thinking to just jump on me like that?

- I thought you were a stalker – she stood up and helped him do it too – I usually tackle and chain stalkers to something very solid, like this dumpster – she pointed the dumpster behind him, shrugging lightly. He blew some air through his teeth, glaring at her.

- Well, I'm no stalker, as you can see, so apologies are very welcome.

- You were stalking me – she crossed her arms; Owen's eyes were almost used to the new dim light, and he could see now that, despite the mocking smile she threw his way, her eyes were full of sorrow.

- You were depressed. I was just guarding your back 'till you got home – he shrugged too, as she stared at him.

- I don't need protecting, Owen. I'm strong, remember?

- Even steel melts, Doctor Sato. You'd think that after getting a PhD you'd know that – he grinned, and she tiscked back.

- You wanna walk me home, then?

He nodded, and she walked to him, picking his arm and huddling against it. He guided her out of the alley and into the streets, and they walked in silence for a while, lost in thoughts.

- You walked me home! – Toshiko bantered from the bathroom. Owen could hear the water running, and the thoughts in his head were maddening enough without the knowledge that she was thinking about him in the shower.

- Yes – me muttered, and then realized she wouldn't hear him with that voice tone – I was worried – he completed, louder.

- So you got me drunk because you wanted me to be spiffing happy? – he could hear the mock even through the door and the steam – Great logic skills, Owen, you should get a golden star for that.

- I didn't know you couldn't keep your alcohol, give me a break.

- How many times before had you seen me drunk, Owen? – the water went off, and he could hear her struggling with the towel. He finished his coffee and went to the kitchen to make some more, keeping himself busy.

- None.

- Precisely – she walked into the living room, dressed into nothing but wet hair and a bathrobe – How well did you reckon a person that hasn't gotten drunk in four years was going to hold her alcohol?

He didn't answer. His eyes glued in her for the most infinite of moments, and then he turned back to the coffee pot, warm neck and cheeks telling Toshiko a story she never believed she'd see happening.

- Thank you – she said from her corner of the room. Owen nodded, without turning around, feeling very much like Ianto as she disappeared once again towards her room.

- You didn't run away! – he sounded truly surprised as he emerged from the small shop where he'd stopped to pick up the basics. She smiled quietly at him and shrugged.

- Why would I? – he didn't know. It just sounded like something acceptable to be done, run away from the pervert of workmate that was walking you home and buying you alcohol to enhance his chances of being able to get you "comforted".

- Dunno, but glad you didn't – he offered her his arm again, and they walked the last couple blocks to her home quickly. She opened the door and he entered, climbing up the steps to her floor, and then into her living room, dropping the groceries on the wooden floor.

- So, what did you get?

- The basics – he repeated, and she smiled, coming closer to the shopping bags – Vodka, wine, chips, microwave popcorn, chocolate, ice-cream and.. – he went to the bag closest to Toshiko and pulled out a DVD box with a proud smile – The Fast and The Furious, Tokyo Drift. I've been dying to see this.

- You should be comforting me, and not your wounded manhood.

- You are my wounded manhood, Tosh – he grinned wickedly at her, and went to the TV set with the DVD in hands, placing it on top – But really, I need you by my side to watch this movie, or else who is going to tell me they have pitiable accents when speaking Japanese?

- Oh, God, Owen, you're pathetic – she shook her head, picking up the groceries from the floor and taking them into the kitchen as the doctor fought with the television set.

- So, you wanna talk about it? – Owen asked over his shoulders, as he picked the remote control; Toshiko was opening the bottle of wine.

- No, not really – she managed to take the cork out, and smiled at his back. He could feel her eyes on him, and it gave him nice chills down the spine – Perhaps after I forgot my name and my job and my role in the "ultimate saving the world experience".

- Did you sleep together? – he asked, as the screen blackened to then was filled by the image of a couple of incredible racing cars, and he turned to face her. Toshiko's cheeks were immediately tinted with the rosiest of tones, and she crossed her arms protectively over the chest.

- You're doing it again, Owen. You're being yourself.

- Sorry – he turned back at the TV, but his attention was drifted away. He felt a crazy urge to know things, and he was quite famous for his impulsiveness – Was it any good, at least?

- Owen, quit it! – Toshiko poured herself a glass of wine and doubled over it, drinking all the contents at once – I hate it when you do this, you know it.

- Sorry – this time he meant it. He jumped over her couch and went to the kitchen, picking up he bottle of vodka and un-screwing it easily to drink a bit.

- That's ok. Just stop it for once and for all, ok? – she pursed her lips in a tight smile, and he shrugged.

- My curiosity sometimes goes over the top, you know me… - she nodded, pouring herself another glass of wine – But, really, why you don't want to talk about it? It was, like, only four or five days, weren't it?

- Yes, it was – she nodded once again, and he watched as she drained the contents of her second glass – But that doesn't mean a thing. I could've had one date with Tommy and feel more in those couple hours than if I spent my whole life by the side of someone – she sent him a dark look, and he quite knew what she meant. He had fallen in love with Diane in the blink of an eye, and that lasted much more and had been way more intense than anything he had with Suzie, whom he knew for a couple years.

- I guess you're right. So… You were in love with him?

- No – her response was immediate, and was given in a serene tone that he was unused to coming out of Toshiko's lips. He watched as she served herself a third wine glass, looking a bit transmuted by the excess of alcohol in her blood, and smiled – I wasn't in love with him, I just cared for him and didn't want him to die. Like I do with you.

With is breath caught in the throat, Owen nodded, drinking again from the bottle of vodka. So, she wasn't in love with him. She cared for him, and didn't want him to die. Owen pondered if she had to send him into death, if she'd sleep with him first too.

- If I had sent you into redeemless death, I'd get pissed – he drank again the vodka, the rough warmness cutting his throat making him feel more at ease, as Toshiko watched his every move.

- That's what I meant about forgetting my name – she took a long sip of her wine, and smiled gingerly at him – Getting pissed until I forgot my name.

- That shouldn't be a lot of trouble, seeing how fast you're taking your wine down.

- I'm leaning towards my objective – she smiled at him, and drank the rest of the wine in her glass.

- You know, wine hangover is a bitch, you really should try vodka, women say it helps them forget – he offered her the bottle, and in a large gesture she took it – Wanna watch the movie and eat chips as you get pissed? I need you half sober to translate the curses they say.

- Sure, why not?

Owen wondered when she was going to remember it.

There are some things did not even alcohol can erase. And that was probably one of those things. After all, he had remembered; she should too. He couldn't carry that weight alone.

Toshiko couldn't feel her nose. That was a funny thing; she was almost perfectly sure she had her nose on, a few minutes ago.

- Owen – she dug a finger into his chest, calling up his attention to her – Is my nose here?

- No – his eyes widened, full of moist, and he touched the spot her nose should be in with gentle fingers; then, with a wicked smile, he pulled his fingers away from her face and stood up quickly – Because I stole it! – he jumped over the couch as she got a glimpse of something nose-looking between his middle and index fingers. With a rustle of fabrics, she got up too, hobbled a bit and stared hard at him as soon as she managed to not fall.

- Owen Harper, I want me nose back!

- Then come and get it, techie! – he ran towards the kitchen, and she kicked the empty bottle of vodka out of her way before running after him.

- OWEN!

They ran around the apartment for a bit, laughing, and then Owen slipped on the doormat, falling flat in his face; Toshiko jumped on his back and held his head up against her tummy, smiling.

- I want my nose back! Now

- Ok, ok! – he freed his head from her grip and rolled underneath her, so that she could be sited on his stomach. He moved his hands fast, and put his hand flat against her face – Can you feel it now?

She took her own hand and touched her nose. It felt weird, but at least it felt.

- Yes, now I can – and giggled. He laughed back, both his hands finding their way to her waist at once.

- So get off of me, now, will ya?

- Nah… - she poked his stomach hard and smiled smartly down at him – Too good a chance to abuse you to just let it slide.

- Toshiko Sato, never knew you had this in you! – he pocked her back, and in a moment the two of them were engaged in a killer poking fight – Give up, Sato, I'm gonna kill ya! – Owen kept repeating, as he tickled and poked her to laughin' tears.

- Never! Never! – she pocked him back, but eventually she really lost; he was stronger, quicker and more used to fighting while drunk. With a last nudge on her stomach, she rolled over herself, legs and arms sprawled oddly around her body, laughing – Ok, ok, give up!

- I knew you couldn't win – he fell to the floor too, by her side, and smiled proudly at the ceiling.

- I just lost 'cuz I can't feel my teeth – she muttered, taking a hand to her mouth and prodding her teeth.

- No, you lost because I'm better at it – he sat up, grinning at her as she jabbed her mouth.

- I can't feel my mouth either.

- Or you lost because you're really drunk – he bent over her face, staring intently at her red lips – Your lips are still here, before you ask. And your teeth too.

- I can't feel my knees – she muttered, when he didn't move. He looked down.

- They're there too.

- Good – she nodded, and he didn't move. He didn't feel he could move. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but it certainly was her – If I can't feel my nose… - she lifted her hand and touched her own nose softly, not taking her eyes away from his – My teeth… My mouth… - as she spoke, she passed her fingers through the places gently – My knees… Why can I feel you – her hand rested on his face tenderly, their eyes locked, their hearts beating fast as one.

- I don't know – he muttered sincerely, resting his forehead against hers – But I can feel you too.

He never remembered the details of how it happened, but suddenly her lips were on his, his hands pulling her closer, their breaths mingled and their hearts racing and slowing in a crazy pace. It all felt incredibly good, and he couldn't stop his hands from moving their way up her body, into her shirt, down her legs, around her face; every inch of her was smooth, tender, tasted like heaven, and he loved it. He knew, deep down, that it was wrong, but he couldn't help himself; it was too good. Somehow they managed to stand up, walk into her bedroom, and when they finally dropped in bed and she started opening his shirt, he felt the taste of vodka deep down his throat.

And he knew he couldn't do it.

- Tosh… Toshiko… - with his eyes closed, he called her name in the most serious voice he could muster, but her mouth didn't stop reaching for the tender skin in his neck, or her hands got away from his exposed chest – Tosh, stop…!

When he finally pushed her away and looked into her disappointed eyes, he could see there all he had too see. Toshiko's body might be there, but he could see her mind was elsewhere; probably drowning in alcohol.

- I can be with you like this – he muttered, cupping her face with his trembling hands, keeping her away from him – Please, don't force me to.

- Right – she picked her shirt from the floor (when had he taken that out?) and dragged it over her bra with his help – You can keep the bed. I'll go finish watching the movie.

And when she left, he knew he'd never have a second chance.

She entered the living room, and he knew she knew, just by looking at those wide dark eyes.

- So, you remember – he managed to say, as she stared at him from the doorframe. She nodded in response, cheeks blushed, and he shrugged – I asked you if you wanted to know.

- I didn't think… - her voice went dead. He continued to stare at her – Is there anything else I should know about, Owen, before we hop into work?

He pondered those words for a few seconds. He could tell her about the bundle of crazy feelings he carried around in his chest, about the way he felt deadly jealous of Tommy, of how he wanted to hold her in a tight hug every time she looked sad, of how he wanted to protect her from all hurt, and of how scared he felt to feel that way around her after Diane… But he just shook his head in a silent no. She sighted, and he knew it was the right thing to do. He didn't want to world to collapse. The moon and the Earth should never be together as one.

Toshiko felt her heart sink with that no; she could suddenly remember the taste of his lips, of Owen and vodka and chips. She wanted him. She wanted him bad. And for a moment there she believed that the Earth and the Moon could stop dancing, reach for each other and burst the universe in a new Big Bang that would make everything better.

But the moon and the Earth were meant for continuing. Not for starting.

N.A.: Read and review! Reviews make me happy! Reviews make me like witty!Ianto!!