I first wrote this as a one shot just after Tosh's death. But then I thought ... this could make a good start to my Tosh and the Doctor Adventures. If you do review (please do XD) could you review this chap like a one shot?
I have no clue where I'm going to go with this, but ) It's the getting there that is the most fun part D Enjoy.

THE ADVENTURES OF TOSHIKO SATO IN A BLUE BOX

Toshiko Sato hadn't always imagined her death to be like this. Alone in the autopsy bay, shivering slightly from the cold stone floor and the chilling fact that Owen was, this time, completely and irrevocably dead.

Then they captured her mother and made her work for them. That when she'd first thought of dying in a far from cushy and 'surrounded by your kids and grandkids in your warm cosy bed' sort of way. That was when she thought of dying under the wheels of a bus or hanging from a noose, so that she could free herself, and in turn her mother, from them. Next, UNITimprisoned her and placed her on the receiving end of a sentence declaring she'd be detained indefinitely. That was when she imagined starving to death or freezing in the cell. Finally, Torchwood. That was when she had to stop imagining death because if she imagined all the new ways she could die, she'd drive herself crazy.

In the end, decided Tosh as she lay against the autopsy table at least I'm dying saving the world. Saving the world with Owen. She closed her eyes. A volley of scenes bombarded her dark eyelids.

"I have a splitting headache."
"Owen ... you have to go. You're the doctor."
"Tosh, please, can't you go? It's a space pig. You can deal with that."
And he'd sounded desperate that, even over the phone, those few words had her heading to London.

"Owen? Another beer?"
"Ta." He'd called back from the living room.
Their fragile friendship had consisted of movies at each other's apartments and a gradual opening up to each other about their pasts. She'd fallen back onto the sofa and he had prised the beer from her hands and allowed her to relax into him, as he wrapped an arm around her.
That had been the last night that had ever happened. Because Suzie arrived and Owen was too busy with her.

Her and Owen, together, like old times, as he agreed, finally to go on a date with her.
"You can be king of the flirts."
But then they'd been pulled back to their work, like always.

She opened her eyes. And was unable to keep them open for more than a few seconds.

Owen lying, in a pool of his own blood.

Owen yelling at her, mirthlessly yanking back his fingers.

Owen kissing her, urgent and rough.
Yet, she still liked to think that she had felt a touch of passion and want in that kiss.

A strange whirring sound filled her ears, but was muffled, as though she was underwater. This time, she didn't open her eyes.

Owen ... being Owen. That sarcastic, unforgiving, cynical bastard of a man that she'd fallen head over heels in love with.

And, in the end, she realised as she lay dying alone against the autopsy table that was just another tradegy in her life.