Disclaimer: Torchwood is not mine. I just like playing with its characters. Torchwood the series is property of BBC and Russel T Davies.

Summary: Tosh and Owen remember key moments in their relationship as they take the next step, spending the night together. Written for the Torchwood Halloween Fest over on LiveJournal, Prompt 6: What would it be like if Owen and Tosh could have had a relationship?

Zombie Love:

Making it Work

Chapter One

The Inconveniences of Being Dead

Owen frowned when the bed shuddered beneath him and cursed quietly when he saw that the jostling had made him type ju[irjedod instead of hypothesis. He backspaced over the word and tried again just as another violent shake made him type nhlkgndxkx.

Smiling down at his bed mate, who was nothing but a lump under the covers and the shiny black hair at the crown of her head, he asked, "What are you playing at?"

"Nrglfnt."

He wondered how he might spell that.

Another powerful tremor shook the bed and he frowned as his companion wriggled against him.

"Tosh?"

"Mmfp."

"Toshiko, what's wrong?" he demanded, finally pulling the covers back.

"N-n-nothing," she gasped, blinking in the light. "J-j-just a l-little c-cold."

"Bollocks," Owen snarled, angry that she hadn't said anything earlier. He didn't need to take her temperature to know how cold she was. Curled into a tight ball beside him, Toshiko was pale and trembling. Her face was pinched and drawn almost as if she was in pain, and her skin was covered in goose bumps. "Uncontrolled shivering is an indicator of stage-one hypothermia. We have to get you warmed up."

"'M f-fine, Owen," Tosh insisted.

"Excuse me, Dr. Sato, but those letters after your name are Ph.D., aren't they?" Owen asked. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "Whereas mine are M.D., you're not fine until I say you are fine."

Slipping off the bed, he stretched across the mattress and easily scooped her up in his arms. Death had made him immune to the pain that often stopped most people from using their muscles to the limit of their capacity, so like an addict high on PCP, he was capable of seemingly super-human feats of strength. Lifting a hundred pounds of beautiful, evil computer genius from the far side of the double bed was nothing.

"C-careful!" Tosh warned him anyway because she knew that, unlike a junkie, Owen would not heal from any damage he caused himself. One pulled muscle or torn tendon might even go unnoticed, but an accumulation of unhealed minor injuries over an indefinite, or possibly infinite, existence would eventually leave him broken and helpless.

"You don't need to worry about me," Owen assured her as he carried her into the bathroom and set her on her feet. He wasn't particularly worried about her condition at the moment. Cuddling a corpse that hadn't yet had the sense to stop moving about was bound to give one the chills, and a soak in a nice, hot bath followed by a cup of tea and some chocolate biscuits was all she would need to warm her up. Then they could figure out how to keep it from happening again.

Owen turned on the heater and started drawing water. "Test it before you get in," he reminded her. "I have no way of knowing how hot it is. Why didn't you tell me you were cold?"

"D-didn't want to h-hurt your feelings," Tosh said as she snuggled deep into the terry robe he wrapped around her shoulders.

"Excuse me?" Owen feigned confusion. "My what?"

Tosh scowled at him. "Not funny. You try so hard to hide it, but I'm not the only one who can tell that you have a sensitive side and can still be hurt."

Owen smiled, relieved that she had gotten the whole long sentence out without her teeth chattering. Already her shivers were lessening as the heater blew balmy air about the small room. Still, he wanted her in the bath just to be sure she was thoroughly warmed up. "Naturally you thought I would feel much better about having you freeze to death as you snuggled beside me, yeah?"

"S-sorry," she stammered, but this time, he thought it had more to do with embarrassment than with being cold.

"Don't be," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "I appreciate the consideration, Tosh, but if this . . . whatever it is we're trying to have between us is going to work out, we have to solve our problems, not ignore them."

"This from the man who never wants to talk about his feelings," Tosh said wryly.

"Oh, we are most definitely going to ignore feelings!" Owen said, mocking the word with his tone. "But if we don't fix the physical, medical, and practical problems, we might as well say to hell with it."

Tosh glowered at him for a moment, and then nodded. "Agreed. So, I'm going to soak in the bath while you . . . ?"

"Make you a cup of tea," Owen supplied. "Then we'll sort out how we can share a bed without freezing you half to death." Satisfied that she would do what he wanted, he lingered no more. Despite the creative, and sometimes kinky, ways they had found to achieve intimacy since that horrible night at SkyPoint, Tosh was still amusingly self-conscious about being naked in front of him.

Tosh sighed and sank chin deep into the bubbles Owen had added to her bathwater. She couldn't have stopped the smile that came to her face if she had wanted to. He worked so hard to maintain his image as a thoughtless, inconsiderate prat because that was his warped version of what it meant to be manly, but then he went and did something sweet like this without a moment's thought. It was like she got to see a secret side of him that no one else knew, and she loved it.

She loved him, always had, and despite the frequent hurdles and missteps, she was grateful for the opportunity to have a relationship with him. She could only hope he was happy with her and not just settling because he couldn't very well date outside of Torchwood anymore.

"Stop it!" she commanded herself. "You've had this conversation before, more than once. He wouldn't work this hard to make you happy if he didn't really care."

And it had been hard work, for both of them, starting from the first date.

Owen arrived at her door sharply dressed in a fine wool suit and white shirt. He had jokingly told her to put on her 'best frock' so she was wearing an off-the-shoulder little black dress that had just a bit of sparkle. They made a handsome couple as they made their way out of the building and down the street to Owen's car, and Toshiko liked the way people looked at them.

As they parked in front of the restaurant, Owen recommended the veal scaloppini and without thinking, Toshiko asked what he would be ordering. His expression went wooden, and Toshiko knew this had been his standby 'impress-the-girl' date that he automatically went to every time he really liked someone and wanted her to like him back. She decided not to ask how long it had been since he'd brought someone here or whether he'd come to this place with Diane.

"Owen, I'm sorry," she apologized.

"Not your fault," he assured her. "Dead men don't eat. Don't know what in bloody hell I was thinking."

Feeling awkward, Toshiko pressed her lips together and looked away as his suave façade crumbled.

"Stupid arse I am, making dinner reservations for our first date," he muttered to himself. "I mean really, what am I supposed to do, sit there and watch you eat? Fuck." Slamming his hands on the steering wheel, he shouted again, "Fuck!"

Watching Owen get angry was bizarrely frightening and fascinating. With no breath, he couldn't breathe heavily and without blood circulation, he didn't flush with anger. He just cursed louder and louder and thumped the car harder and harder.

"Stupid bloody fucking arse!" he shouted, and from the tone of his voice, Tosh really believed there would have been tears of frustration had his body been able to produce them.

"Stop it," she finally told him, and put her hands over his to stop him pounding on the steering wheel. He couldn't feel how hard he hit things anymore and she didn't want to witness him breaking any more bones.

"There's no reason we can't still have a good time," she said. "We can just skip dinner and go straight to dancing."

"Club doesn't open until ten o'clock," Owen grumbled. "And you must be famished. What are we going to do for two hours?"

"Well, we could sit in the car and sulk," she teased, grinning when he scowled at her, "or we can go do something else."

"What about dinner?" he growled.

"Well, I appreciate the thought, but I wouldn't enjoy it if you can only sit there and watch," she said, really meaning it. "I'm sure we'll think of something else."

He'd wound up buying her a pasty and an alcopop, and they'd gone for a walk in Victoria Park. There, they came across a group of students practicing in the bandstand and danced the night away under the stars. Their first date had gone nothing like either of them had anticipated, but it had been a lovely evening all the same.

Toshiko smiled again. Owen was trying very hard to make this relationship work for them. At first, he was easily frustrated when things didn't go to plan, which was odd for a man who prided himself on being able to improvise; but as Toshiko had shown him time and again that she was willing to adapt and adjust to the difficulties they experienced, he had learned to relax and take things as they came. Now, the inconveniences of being dead only got him worked up when it made things bad for her, like this evening.

Tosh sighed again. She should have spoken up sooner. Why couldn't anything come naturally for them?

TBC