The lights in the hub were dimmed, Jack lay on his bed, staring up through the hatch in the ceiling of his bedroom. Nothing stirred except for Myfanwy, as she gave the odd screech, almost as if she were dreaming, it echoed eerily around the hub's hollow space, slowly fading away, allowing the silence to take over once more.
He picked up the book that lay open across his chest, then flipped over one of the pages, smiled and shook his head.
"Julie, you have an evil sense of humour," he said out loud, smirking, then realising what he had said.
The smile disappeared, he should have said had, but somehow that word and her just didn't fit-they probably never would!
His thoughts slipped back, the hub had felt happy and contented, everyone seemed cheerful, even Owen, seemed to be slowly fighting his way back towards normal and away from the nearest bar.
. . . .
Owen Harper glanced at the assorted bits and pieces in the metal trays, scalpel poised in mid air, he sighed. "Oh what the hell, eany, meany, miney..." he shrugged, then moved to make a large incision on the selected sample.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Doctor Harper," a voice called from above him on the landing of the autopsy steps.
He froze, his hand hovering over the sample, then he grinned, and waited, he could hear her heels as they clicked across the tiled floor then hesitantly picked their way down the steps towards him.
Not looking up, he waited until he heard her footsteps stop, then he looked over towards the end of the autopsy table. She wrinkled her nose, peering at the assorted road kill, sitting in trays of various sizes.
"Interesting aroma," she murmured, then grinned over at him.
"And what, pray, makes you think that starting with this one, is a bad idea?" he enquired waving the scalpel towards her, then stabbing it directly into the middle of his chosen target.
The smell was suddenly an awful lot stronger, followed rapidly by a loud, popping sound, a spurt of green gunge shot up into the air and arched gracefully over his shoulder. Owen closed his eyes, wonderful! Just what he needed!
"How the hell did you know it was going to do that?" He demanded.
She laughed, "Intuition?"
Owen looked wearily up at the ceiling and shook his head, "Bloody intuition... not claiming it as a woman's virtue then?" he laughed, his voice pitching slightly higher towards the end of the sentence.
She shrugged, "Well, Rob always seemed to know as well, and I can't remember him having anything, remotely, like a feminine side."
Owen pursed his lips, "Nah, not a trace," he said quietly, shaking his head, then gave her an enquiring look,"How are you?"
She shrugged and glanced down. "You know," then looked back at him, "You?"
Owen's lips tweaked slightly, "Same," he said flatly.
Julie moved around the table, in an attempt to get a better look at what he was wearing. "Still dressing like an undertaker, I see," she said, her lip quirking at the last moment, giving away the fact that she was teasing him.
Owen sniffed and slowly blinked back at her, "Bloody expensive undertaker, do you know what this cost?"
Suzie heard voices as she passed the autopsy stairs, paused, and glanced down into its depths, she smiled, and leaned around the doorway.
"Checking out the almost new boy I see," she smirked, puckering her lips in Owen's direction.
"Am I missing something?" Jack's American twang suddenly joined in. He peered around Suzie, attempting to get a better look.
"Here I was, thinking you were coming to see me, and all along it was someone else," he gave a mock sigh and shook his head. "I'm bereft, heartbroken even," he sobbed theatrically, clutching his chest.
Julie suppressed a giggle, "Heart's on the left Jack," she reminded him.
He smirked,"You clutch where you want to sweetheart, I'll clutch where I do," wiggled his eyebrows and turned away. "And don't take too long, I get impatient sitting all on my own," he yelled as he sprinted for his office.
Raising her eyebrows, she laughed and shook her head.
Owen shrugged. "He's the boss," he mumbled, then attempted a pout, that quickly merged into a smile. "I'll catch up with you later, when I'm a bit more..." He paused, glancing down at his once clean, white coat, "Presentable."
She laughed, brushing his arm with her hand, and whispered, "Sometimes you can be a little bit too... presentable," then nudged him, and winked.
Owen blinked, for a second unsure what to say, his head tilted towards her, but she was already moving away. Waving at him, she turned, then raced up the steps, smiled as she passed Suzie, and headed towards Jack's office.
Owen stared vaguely at the autopsy table, but not really seeing it. The only image in his head was of a pair of blue eyes laughing gently across at him, set in a face that could make him feel happy, however miserable he was feeling at the time.
. . . .
Taking off his white coat, he pushed it over the coat hook on the autopsy landing, then touched one of the green marks, tentatively, to see if it was dry-it wasn't, he sighed, it looked like the innards of whatever that thing was, didn't dry in oxygen.
"You finished for the day?" A familiar voice asked.
He turned and smiled, "Near as. You going now?"
Julie nodded, "You?"
Owen shrugged, "Might as well," he tiptoed towards her and whispered, "If I'm with you the big bad boss can't object can he?"
"I heard that Harper," Jack yelled from his office.
Owen scowled, then Jack added, "Take her safely back to her hotel, I need her here tomorrow morning, in one piece."
Owen clicked his heels and bowed. "Modom," he said in exaggerated plummy tones, hand extended towards the door, "Your carriage awaits."
She stared at him, "You have a carriage?"
Owen coughed, "Well, not exactly, I was thinking more of shanks' pony."
"Cheapskate," she countered.
"Charming!" he huffed back.
Jack watched the scene playing out in front of him and laughed. Julie had called a few times to see how Owen was settling in- she was, after all, the one who had suggested him for the job in the first place.
Unfortunately, just after that, her husband Rob had died, and Jack had been forced to do without her helping with an introduction, then Katie had been taken ill, her death bringing him into direct contact with Owen in a less than ideal way.
He couldn't help but notice the difference in his medical officer when she was there. For all of Owen's trite protests about them being old friends, and Rob being his best mate, Jack had no doubts about how he felt about her.
Owen grabbed his coat from the hook as he passed it on the way to the exit, then turned slightly, waiting for Julie to catch up.
"Night Tosh," he murmured, Toshiko turned and nodded.
"Night," she answered vaguely, smiled at Julie, then turned back to her work.
. . . .
Ambling cheerfully beside Julie, Owen chatted about nothing in particular, occasionally nudging her arm and laughing, then suddenly he was quiet.
Without looking at her, he said, "Do you ever think about starting again... with someone else... maybe re-marrying?"
She blinked back at him, surprised at the sudden question, "Um... I..." She shrugged, then glanced away.
He hesitated, unsure if he should go any further or not. "I know Rob wouldn't want you to just..."
Owen paused, then stumbled on, " I just wondered if maybe there was someone and you weren't saying anything because of Rob being my best mate, and if you thought that I might not..." he mumbled, gradually running out of words.
She looked at him, smiling quietly, as he struggled his way to the end of what he was trying to say. "No, there's no one else... what about you?"
They stopped walking, Owen shuffled his feet. "Yeah, well, sort of," he mumbled, looking nervously at her.
Julie smiled quietly and nodded, "Anyone I know?" she enquired.
Owen took a deep breath, "Yeah, sort of."
"Did Rob know her?" she tried.
He opened his mouth and started with, "Yeah..."
"If you say, sort of,"she threatened, clutching the top of her bag and preparing to swing it at him,"I'll belt you round the ear with this."
"Sort of," he said, and quickly ducked as the bag whistled above his head. The two stood facing each other and laughing. "Missed!" he yelled, smirking, "You never were fast enough to get me."
She pouted, "I know, one of these days Harper... one of these days!"
"So... it's serious then?" she said, smiling at him.
"What is?" he looked back at her with a baffled expression, "Oh, right, yeah, sorry... maybe," his voice softened. "I've known her a long time."
"Before Katie?" She asked gently.
He nodded. "Yes... quite a while before Katie," he looked down and licked his lips. "Julie, I was thinking maybe..." looking up at her, he then completely lost his nerve, "... I need a change of image."
She stared at him. "Owen Harper! I don't believe it! Your asking for a make over!" she giggled back.
He winced. "Make over? Makes me sound like a decrepit kitchen," he objected.
Julie eyed him up and down, making a grumbling noise in her throat. "That suit," she shook her head. "You go out wearing that any closer to Christmas and you'll be mistaken for an exotic strip a gram."
Owen ran his hand defensively down the front of the jacket. "Do you know what this cost?" he demanded.
"Unfortunately, yes I do- to the penny."
Seeing Owen's baffled look, she continued. "You bought it a couple of days before my last birthday. I remember, because you sent me an email. The subject line was memorable... birthday suit," she paused. "Well, actually, it said birthday suite... your the only person I know, who's typing is almost as bad as their handwriting!"
She smirked, " Anyway, it had an attachment, and I thought... perhaps we should gloss over what I thought," she murmured, and glanced at Owen, who was clearly still trying to remember the offending message.
"First line, was Happy Birthday. The next half a dozen, were you, complaining about the cost of that suit...and when I opened up the attachment... it was a scan of the bill."
Owen stared at her horrified, "Your kidding?"
She shook her head slowly, "I wish."
"I meant to ask you out for a special meal... to celebrate," Owen looked at her dolefully, then suddenly wondered who he'd sent the invite to instead of the scan of the bill!
"I'm so sorry, I'll make it up to you... tomorrow, take you out for a proper meal," he smiled enthusiastically, I know a really nice place, quiet, we could talk."
Julie smiled back, "Perfect, you could wear your new clothes and tell me all about this mystery woman of yours."
Owen's smile disappeared. "Yes, great idea, so... we go shopping tomorrow?" he asked, trying to sound enthusiastic.
"No time like the present, we can make a start tonight," she said, grabbing his arm, before he could back away. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, a mobile phone began to ring.
Julie glanced at her bag, then towards him. "Think its yours ," she said.
Owen pulled his mobile from his pocked, grumbled and answered it. "Yeah, okay, I'm on my way," he cancelled the call and then sighed. "I've got to go back in- Weevils on the rampage again, three attacks in the last half hour."
Julie looked surprised, "Unusual! Cluster?" She asked.
Owen shrugged, "Could be, I'd have to check the map, I'm sorry, I'll have to go... keep to busy streets- just to be on the safe side," he warned, turned away then back again.
"I'll ring you later," he said, then almost as an after thought, gave her a brief peck of a kiss on the cheek.
"Oh, what the hell!" He announced, pulled her gently towards him and kissed her properly on the lips, then glanced nervously at her, unsure of what her reaction would be. Relieved that she seemed surprised, but not exactly displeased, he stroked her cheek with his thumb.
"I really do need to talk to you about something," he murmured, his eyes fixed on hers, then he blinked, "I've got to go," he sighed and backed away from her, still unsure. She smiled quietly back at him, and he looked relieved.
"I'll ring you," he said looking pointedly at her, then gulped and turned, not wanting to see her reaction to that comment.
For a moment she stared after him in surprise, then she smiled. "Right, think perhaps I should make a start without you- just in case you change you mind," she murmured to herself, then walked off towards the shopping area.
. . . .
"Finally! It took you long enough," Jack yelled towards Owen, who made his way up the steps up to the landing, then stopped next to him.
Owen caught his breath and shrugged, "Any more attacks?" he asked, glancing at the screens arrayed around Tosh's work station.
Jack shook his head, "Nothing more so far, and they seem close enough together to be the same Weevil, looks like we've either a young male trying to prove how macho he is."
"Or a psycho with a blood lust," added Owen, "And I can't say either's an improvement on the other."
Jack headed to his office to get his coat. "Tosh, you stay here and let us know if there are any more reports, see if you can find Suzie and bring her in, we might need her if this gets worse. Owen... your with me, we'll go and check- see if its genuine Weevil or not."
. . . .
Jack watched as Owen straightened up, looking down at the body for a split second before he turned and walked away, leaving it to the ambulance crew to move the latest victim to Torchwood for a final autopsy.
Wearily taking off his surgical gloves and rolling them inside each other, Owen sighed,"Looks like Weevil, I'll do a couple of tests to confirm, but there's no suggestion that it's anything other than that."
"Any sign that we could be dealing with some kind of super Weevil- bigger, stronger?" Jack asked, silently praying for a negative response to that one!
Owen shook his head, "Doubt it, I'll check at the autopsy just in case, but if it did have larger jaws, the damage would have been a hellova sight worse than that- not that it isn't bad enough!" Owen yawned. "Tosh had any more alerts?" He asked, turning round to look for somewhere to ditch his gloves.
Trotting to the open doors of the ambulance, he leaned in and dropped them into a bin under on of the stretchers, the ambulance man glanced over at him and smiled, "Long day?" he asked.
Owen yawned again, his eyelids hooded. "Your not bloody kidding," he said and laughed.
"You travelling with us, or are we meeting you there?" The other man enquired, as he checked that the stretcher was safely locked down.
Owen scratched his head, "I'll meet you there mate, or someone will, depends if we get another shout," he said, looking towards Jack, who was clearly talking to Toshiko through his headset.
Jack nodded, looking down as Toshiko told him about the latest attack. "We've just sorted out number three, and we're on our way back, did you managed to get hold of Suzie?"
Toshiko glanced over at Suzie, who was standing beside her. Suzie nodded and said, "Yep, here."
"Great, okay, Suzie, sounds like its close to the hub, can you go and deal with it? We'll finish up here and then head back," Jack listened to the responses, then looked towards Owen.
"Another one?" Owen asked, wearily.
Jack nodded, "Yeah, Suzie's dealing with this one, no others so with luck it could be the last."
"I bloody well hope so," grumbled Owen, as they walked back to the SUV. "I promised Julie I'd ring her tonight."
Jack smirked, "Oh?" he asked, suggestively, settling himself behind the wheel, "Do I hear violins?"
Owen got in and slammed the passenger door harder than he needed to. "No, you don't," he retorted, dipping his head as he pulled on the seat belt.
"She thinks I need a change of look," he glared at Jack, who was giggling, as he fired up the engine.
"What's so funny about that?" he said, scowling out of the side window.
"She tried to do that for me," he burst out laughing.
Owen gave him a horrified look, "Oh bloody hell!"
Jack checked over his shoulder before pulling away from the kerb. "I was one of her few failures, went straight back to these," he said, nodding briefly downwards.
Owen looked relieved, "Thank gawd for that, for one terrible moment there..." he looked over at Jack and winced.
Jack ignored him, "About time somebody got you out of that suit," he said cheerfully and winked back at him. Owen pressed his lips together and stared vaguely through the windscreen.
. . . .
The SUV was pulled into the kerb, Owen was outside, retrieving equipment from the boot when Suzie called Jack's name over the headset.
"Yep, what's wrong?" Jack asked, listened, then asked if she needed Owen. Hearing his name mentioned, he banged to hatch closed, walked back round to the passenger door, then pulled it open and waited.
"You sure?" Jack paused, then looked over at Owen and shook his head. "Okay, I'll come now, see you in about five minutes," he turned on the engine, then glanced over to Owen. "You make a start on the autopsies, see you later."
Owen nodded, slammed the door closed, stepped back, and watched the SUV pull away from the kerb and hurtle off down the street. Turning, he slung his bag over his shoulder, then picked up the tool kits and moved off towards one of the entrances.
. . . .
Suzie stood at the end of the alleyway, watching as the police and ambulance crew milled around, hearing the screech of brakes, she looked over towards the road, and watched, nervously, as Jack got out of the SUV. She sighed, and blinked at him as he marched towards her, his trench coat billowing out around him.
"So what's so urgent that it needs me, and not Owen?" he demanded, then froze as he realised that the shoulder bag she was holding was familiar. For a split second he tried to make sense of what he saw, then Suzie's expression suddenly hit home and he turned, staring at the confusion of people who were milling around.
A dazed expression on his face, he walked up the alley, this gaze fixed on the heap of clothing that seemed to be the centre of all the attention. As he got nearer, he realised that the clothing was familiar- very familiar. He stopped, a few of the on- lookers turned, then realising who he was, moved back, giving him an unobstructed view.
Julie's body lay twisted, where she had fallen, her blue eyes staring vacantly up at the crumbling brickwork of a nearby wall, almost as if she couldn't bare to look at the garish red of the blood covered gash that ran from the side of her neck, to the top of her breast, then over her arm, exposing bone and muscle.
Jack closed his eyes, "Dear God, NO!" he murmured, then looked again, nothing had changed.
Wandering closer, he dropped to his knees, taking hold of her hand, then pushing some of her hair away from her face with his finger. Suddenly angry, he rounded on the nearest person, "What the hell do you think your doing, leaving her like this? Get something to cover her up with," he screamed.
In the next instant, he was up on his feet again, then turning back and forth, as if trying to get his bearings. He saw Suzie, moving slowly towards him.
He took a breath, but it didn't help, he held up his hand to stop her coming any closer and moved off to the side, finally leaning against a wall, staring down at the floor. The same words kept going round and round in his head- how the hell do I tell Owen?
Suzie leaned against the wall beside him, deliberately avoiding looking straight at him. "Do you want me to tell him?" she asked, then added, "It might come better from..." She never got the chance to finish.
"No," he almost shouted back, then blinked and repeated more quietly, "No... I think it should come from me."
Suzie nodded, she was more than aware how hard this was for Jack, she had barely known her, but the impact when she had first arrived and realised who the victim was, had knocked her sideways.
"We should clear her hotel room," she suggested, tentatively, then waited.
Jack suddenly straightened up, "Yes, sooner the better, we'll get all her things and take them back to the hub, make sure they're safe for the family," he nodded as if agreeing with himself, then started to walk back down the alley.
" We should do it now," he said absently, at the same time heading for the nearest policeman. Suzie stopped and waited.
Jack caught the policeman's arm, causing him to turn towards him. Jack said something, the policeman nodded, clearly aware that he was upset, he appeared to ask if Jack was alright, but he got no response.
Jack just walked away from him, coming back to join Suzie.
"I've told them to take her to St. Helens hospital, tag her for Torchwood, no one touches her 'til I say so," Jack murmured as they walked towards the hotel.
. . . .
The hotel room was comfortable, but sparse. Jack stood by the foot of the bed, staring silently at the neatly turned down sheets. Suzie quietly made her way around the room, opening drawers and putting the few contents into a suitcase that sat opened up on a nearby chair.
Jack glanced towards it, watching as Julie's belongings slowly began to fill up the available space.
Something on one of the bedside cabinets caught his attention, he walked towards it, picking up a folding picture frame. The larger one in the centre, showed her with Rob on their wedding day, the smaller companion pictures were just snapshots. One of the two of them laughing, its twin on the other side was of Owen and Katie.
Jack closed up the frame, his thumb running along the edge. Owen was the only survivor, he found himself thinking, he turned, suddenly dreading Owen's response to what had happened.
Gently laying the frame in the corner of the suitcase, he moved out of Suzie's way as she came back from the bathroom, carrying various bits and pieces.
Moving aimlessly towards an easy chair, he noticed a collection of brightly coloured, plastic carrier bags, piled up on its seat. He picked one up, and glanced inside, it contained a sweatshirt, the others looked like they had similar contents, he smiled. It looked like she had already started shopping for Owen, she must have bought these, and then decided to go back for another session.
Jack's hands shook as he pushed the things back inside their bags, trying to keep calm. He looked up, closing his eyes and feeling the tightening in his chest that he knew was going to get steadily worse.
Susie was beside him, he hadn't realised she was there until she said,"She must have been shopping," very quietly.
Jack sighed and opened his eyes, nodding briefly. "I think they were for Owen," he murmured.
Suzie nodded, moved forward and began collecting them together. "He should have them, then," she murmured.
Jack turned away, then suddenly remembered something, going over to the suitcase he carefully moved some of its contents until he found what he was looking for-her diary.
He glanced towards Suzie, her back was turned towards him. He slipped the book quickly into the inside pocket of his coat, then repositioned everything so it looked like nothing had been removed.
"Is that the lot?" he asked.
Suzie turned, and nodded, "Looks like it," she replied.
Jack closed up the case, and lifted it free of the seat, grabbed the handbag and moved towards the door.
He stood outside waiting for Suzie. She came out, clutching the carrier bags, then turned and pulled the door closed behind her, it clicked, and they stood quietly for a moment, saying nothing, then they turned and headed for the lift.
Halfway down the hallway a mobile phone began to ring, they both stopped, and stared at each other, then at Julie's bag-it was her phone that was ringing.
. . . .
Owen straightened up from the last autopsy and sighed, his back ached like hell, and he felt like death warmed up. He glanced at his watch, "Bloody hell!" he grumbled, he had promised to ring Julie, but it was a bit late now! He hesitated, then smiled, if he didn't he'd never hear the last of it!
Slumping down onto one of the lower steps, he leaned forward and fished his mobile out of his pocket, scrolled through its phone book, then hit dial.
. . . .
Jack dropped the suitcase to the floor and began fumbling around in the bag, looking for her phone. The display was lit, the name "Owen" stared back at him.
He gulped, looked helplessly at Suzie, not knowing what to do. She stared at it, then shook her head, "Leave it... we need to be with him."
Jack nodded, dumbly and waited as the messaging service kicked in, then put the phone back into her bag.
. . . .
Owen waited as the phone kept on ringing, then the answering machine started, he laughed. "Hi ya, sorry it's so late, I'll ring you back in the morning- promise," and hung up.
Getting up wearily from the steps, he stretched, put the phone back in his pocket, then moved across to one of the cold storage units, swinging open its heavy metal door.
. . . .
The main security door to the hub rolled noisily open. Jack and Suzie trudged through the doorway and up the stairs, they stopped, listening. It sounded like Owen was clearing up after finishing the autopsies.
Jack nodded towards his office, "Put everything in there for now."
Just as he dropped the suitcase onto the floor, Owen appeared under the archway to the autopsy room. "Finally running away to the circus, Jack?" he asked, amused.
Jack turned quickly, and froze, he couldn't think of a single thing to say in response.
Owen reached the door of Jack's office, then noticed Julie's handbag sitting on the edge of his desk, he grinned, and looked around, clearly expecting to see her, then he noticed the suitcase.
Surprised, he looked towards Jack. "I thought she was staying for a couple of days?" he queried, "Where is she?"
Jack stared at Suzie, then shook his head, signalling her to go. Moving around to the back of his desk he slumped down in his chair. "I think you'd better sit down," he said quietly. Owen didn't move.
Jack tried again, "I really think that you should sit down."
Owen blinked at him across the desk, "Why?" he demanded.
Jack jumped to his feet again, frustrated and angry, "Owen, will you sit the hell down!"
Owen sat.
Trying to gather his thoughts, Jack licked his lips nervously, there was just no easy way to say this. "The call Suzie covered," he looked down at the scattered junk on his desk, not really focusing on anything, "It was Julie."
Owen stared at him, puzzled. "What do you mean it was Julie?" he said, glancing at her handbag, for the first time, he noticed the dried blood, that was streaked down part of its shoulder strap. Still staring at it, he mumbled, "How badly hurt is she?"
When Jack didn't answer, he forced himself to look away from it and directly at him.
"I'm sorry," Jack started again, but Owen was up on his feet, glaring at him.
"Sorry? what the hell do you mean, sorry?" he yelled, his eyelids blinking slowly as if he was trying to make sense of something that he was too tired to comprehend.
Jack moved around the desk towards him. "Owen... she's dead," he said gently, reaching out to him.
Owen immediately backed away, shaking his head,"No... its a mistake."
" I wish it was, I really do, but its not... Julie's dead," Jack moved forwards again, hand extended.
Owen slapped it away angrily, his head still moving from side to side in denial. "It's a mistake," he turned away, clutching the back of the chair. "A bloody stupid mistake," the knuckles of his hand turned white, as he gripped the chair.
"Her handbag was with her bod... her, there's no doubt," Jack said, his voice pleading for Owen to believe him.
Owen pushed his tongue into the back of his teeth, his lips pressing together in stubborn refusal,he let go of the chair, and spun back to face Jack. "Can't go off that kind of ID, its not safe, anyone could have her handbag... someone could have stolen it, was running away with it... anything," his voice floundered, trying to make the facts fit some other way.
Jack sighed, "Owen..."
Owen began pacing back and forth, shoulders hunched over, glaring at Jack. "I bet you never did a proper identification, did you?" he stopped pacing and waited for a response. "Well, did you?" he yelled.
"It is her Owen, I looked at her properly, there's no doubt," he said insistently, his voice beginning to crack.
Eyes narrowing, Owen shook his head."Nah, you just glanced, you didn't check properly, clothes looked right, got her handbag, I bet you didn't," his voice harsh, spitting the words at the other man.
Owen moved towards the door, waving his arm vaguely in the direction of the entrance."Well, I'm glad that I'm not the one who's going to have to face Julie and explain why some pillock decided to vacate her hotel room for her, on the faulty pretext that she was ever so slightly dead."
Clutching the side of his desk for support, Jack suddenly felt exhausted. His chest was tight, and all he really wanted to do was walk away, and find somewhere quiet so he could start to grieve for a lost friend- but he couldn't, what he had to do first, was get Owen to the point where he at least accepted that she was dead, and if the last few minutes were anything to go by, it wasn't going to happen any time soon.
"Not to mention the fact, that there is some poor sod in cold storage, with the wrong bloody name hanging off her toe!"
Owen finally ground to a halt, glaring at Jack. "Well?" he demanded, "Are you going to stand there staring at your bloody desk? Or are we going to go and sort this mess out?"
Owen folded his arms across his chest and waited.
Sighing wearily, Jack finally looked back at Owen, "And how do you think we can do that?" he asked.
"Simple, we go and see the body, I'll confirm it isn't her, and then we get on trying to find out who the hell it really is," Owen stated in a matter of fact voice.
Jack straightened, up, nodded his agreement. "Fine, lets get going, she's in St. Helens hospital...I'll drive," marched past Owen, across the hub towards the garage.
"Fine,"echoed Owen, detouring to grab his coat and then following him.
. . . .
The cold storage drawer stood open, Jack on one side, Owen on the other. Jack nodded to the attendant, who turned and left them.
He really wasn't sure that they should be doing this, but the way Owen had reacted it was pretty clear that the only way he was going to accept the facts, were when they were staring him in the face.
Jack moved the white sheet carefully back, stopping below the jaw line, in an attempt to hide the damage that had been inflicted by the Weevil.
"Owen?" he said gently, waiting for the other man to look down at her.
Owen glanced vaguely down, he shrugged, "Not her," he said and looked away.
Jack closed his eyes, he gritted his teeth. "Bloody well look, Owen," he growled, at the same leaning across the drawer, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him down, making him look at her.
Owen gulped, and nodded, wrenching free of Jack's grip, he turned away. "Is it her, Owen? Is it Julie?" he asked quietly.
Owen murmured, "Yes, yes it is."
Jack nodded to the attendant that they were finished, and gently guided Owen back into the corridor, where he slumped down onto a seat, hands over his face.
Jack sat down beside him, he made no attempt to touch him, just quietly waiting.
Eventually Owen straightened slightly, his hands clasped in front of his lips. "What about the autopsy?" He said.
Jack cleared his throat, "Well, it will be done here, there's someone who's done work for us before, and he can..."
"Anderson," Owen said suddenly.
Jack shrugged, "I think that was his name, I'd have to check, it's a while since..."
"He's not touching a hair on her head, the man's a butcher," Owen announced, turning to look at Jack for the first time. Jack stared at him, stunned by what he had said.
"Don't need a full job, just basic tests and that's it," Owen nodded to himself. "I'll do it tonight," he announced, waiting for Jack to respond.
Jack just stared back at him, then shook his head, "You can't..." he murmured. "They would never allow it."
Owen pressed his lips together, "Thought that was the whole point of this little playpen of yours Jack, we don't have to answer to anyone," he said glaring back at him.
Jack stood up reluctantly. "Okay, I'll go and see what I can do," he moved away, then stopped and turned back. "You stay right there, you don't move 'til I get back... deal?"
Owen nodded, "Deal!"
As soon as Jack was safely out of sight, Owen stood up and walked back into the morgue.
. . . .
Jack marched around the corner, expecting to see Owen still sitting there, it had taken rather longer than he had anticipated to wangle the permission to make use of their autopsy room, but just when he thought he was going to have to resort to an out and out threat they had backed down.
He still wasn't sure that Owen should be doing what he seemed so determined to do, but in the end, all he could do was try and comply with his wishes. He knew that Julie would have no qualms about him doing it, as far as she was concerned he was the best she knew- she trusted him, and so did Jack.
The corridor was deserted. Jack spun around a few times, looking for him, perhaps he had realised it wasn't such a good idea after all and had gone home. Jack visibly relaxed, relieved that he could go and tell them that there wouldn't be any more autopsies today. Pushing open the door, he went into the morgue.
The attendant passed him, carrying a tray full of samples and a clipboard holding forms, he nodded at Jack and smiled. "Good bloke, that man of yours, talk about fast!"
"Where is he?" Jack demanded, the other man looked surprised, and nodded down the corridor.
"I'll show you," he offered, but Jack was already on the move, "It's alright, I'll find him."
. . . .
Jack pushed the door cautiously and glanced inside. Owen was over the other side of the room, crouching over the autopsy table, he could hear his voice, mumbling away about something, but he couldn't make out what he was saying.
Keeping to the wall, Jack moved around, until he had a better view of the table.
Owen's face was animated and bright, chatting away. He was stitching up the wounds the Weevil had inflicted. As Jack watched, he finished and broke off the thread, dropped the needle and then his gloves into a kidney dish, that sat on a metal trolley beside him.
Gently pulling the sheet up, so that only her head was visible, he murmured something, then closed his eyes. Hand shaking, he reached over and stroked her cheek with his thumb, then clearly distressed, pulled the final piece of sheet over her head, and turned quickly away.
It was at that point that he realised Jack was there watching him, for a split second they just stared at each other, then Owen suddenly murmured shakily, "I really need a drink now."
Jack moved forwards, and putting an arm around his shoulders, led him away.
. . . .
Toshiko leaned against Jack's office door, arms full of files, she looked worried. "Have you seen him since the funeral?" she asked.
Jack shook his head, "I called a few times, but he wasn't in."
"I suppose we could report him missing," she said uncertainly. "It's been three days, they would probably say that it's not been long enough, but..."
She was interrupted by the sound of the hub entrance activating. Jack bounced to his feet, and had almost reached the steps down to the floor of the hub by the time the door was fully open.
He waited, for a moment it was as if there was no one there, then a dark haired man stepped through and stopped, for a moment Jack didn't recognise him. His hair had been gelled into what Jack presumed was the latest direction, he was wearing jeans, a sweat shirt and a cropped jacket, as he turned towards him, he noticed a chunky chain around his neck and an ear ring. The man's face seemed emotionless, he gave Jack a dispassionate look but said nothing, he just stood silently waiting.
"Owen!" Jack said, staring, "Your looking..."
"Well?" He suggested.
"Different," finished off Jack.
Owen shrugged and slowly walked towards Suzie's workstation.
Jack watched him for a second, then went over to Toshiko, who was standing just behind him, as stunned as he was.
"Keep an eye on him, and whatever you do, don't let him know your doing it!"He said, moving rapidly towards his office, he walked through to one of the observation windows and stopped.
Toshiko sat down and sighed, how the hell was she supposed to keep an eye on him without him knowing? Then something occurred to her and she smiled.
Getting one of her screens to display Owen, as he walked slowly across the hub, she began inputting information into one of her programs. Finally happy, she pressed the enter key, and nodded. "Right! Owen Harper, where ever you go from now on in Cardiff-I'll be watching you."
Owen stopped beside Suzie. "Hi ya," he said brightly, eyeing her up and down.
She turned and smiled up at him, "Glad your back," she said quietly, "We were beginning to worry."
Owen smirked, "Don't want to worry about me luv," he said leaning over her,"Never better," he murmured. "How about going out for a drink or something?" he said peering at her from under hooded eyelids.
She nodded, "I'll have a word with Tosh."
"Well, actually I was thinking of something a little more... intimate," he said suggestively and waited for her response.
Surprised, Suzie nodded, "Um, yes, okay, fine."
"Good," he said, a faint smile tweaked his lips, then he straightened up and walked away.
Suzie stared after him, puzzled, then looked away, trying to convince herself that was really Owen she had just had that conversation with, and not someone else who looked weirdly like him.
Jack stepped back from the window, and moved towards the stairs, meaning to join Owen as he passed the armoury, but as he got to the corner something made him dodge back behind the wall.
Owen was standing by the stairs that led down to the cells. His head was bowed, hand pressing against the logo on the front of his sweatshirt, his other hand balled into a tight fist, his face distraught.
Leaning across Jack kicked the metal guard rail. Owen responded, clearly thinking that someone was coming, he turned this way and that, then his face suddenly took on the same look that it had when he had first stepped into the hub. Jack closed his eyes, so now he knew!
Coming down the stairs, Jack slapped Owen hard on the arm, "Conference room," he announced, "Time for you to catch up." Owen mumbled something and followed him up the stairs.
. . . .
Jack stretched out his legs, glancing over at Owen- who was slouched in a chair opposite him, his fingers absently tracing the pattern on the front of his sweat shirt. He knew it was one of those they had found in Julie's hotel room, he recognised it. Owen seemed to get some kind of comfort from it, he noticed him repeatedly rubbing his palm across the front of it, or gripping the hem, as if it were some kind of comfort blanket.
How much he actually took in of what was said was debatable, but it didn't really matter, it got them all together again, for the first time since the funeral and Jack hoped it would start the slow process of things getting back to normal.
Jack glanced down at one of the reports in front of him, "According to this," he said looking over at Owen, who was staring absently at the corner of the table. "The body of a male Weevil was found last night, we have it in storage, it looks very much like its been killed by its own kind," he looked again at Owen, waiting to see if he made any comment.
Owen blinked vaguely, "They don't usually kill their own," he said, flatly.
"No, they don't, and judging by the injuries, it looks very much like it was set on by a pack, not just one," Jack paused. When Owen didn't say anything else, he added, "We will have to compare it with the results on the victims from that night," he paused again."But it's more than possible that this could be the individual who was responsible, and they have... removed him from the group."
Owen suddenly stood up, "Right, well I'd better get on with it then," and walked towards the door.
Surprised, the others looked to Jack, unsure what to do.
Jack stood up, "Erm, yeah, right, Owen? Can you just hang on a minute? I need a word," he nodded for the other two to leave them, then sat down again and waited for Owen to come away from he door. Owen didn't move.
Jack tried again, "Can you sit down again, please?" he asked him.
Owen just blinked, "Thought you wanted that Weevil autopsy doing," he said vaguely.
"It can wait, sit down."
Owen reluctantly sat down in the nearest chair, slouching sideways, gazing vacantly at one of the table legs.
Jack leaned back in his chair, pressed his finger tips together, then tapped his lips thoughtfully and asked, "So, what's all this about, Owen?"
Owen's gaze moved slowly from the table leg towards Jack, stopping on the table top at a glass of water. He shrugged, and said nothing.
Sitting up, Jack leaned on the table top with his elbows, sighed and meshed his fingers together, pressed them to his lips, then peered over the top of his fingers towards the other man, who still wasn't making eye contact.
"Why don't you just tell me?" Jack said suddenly, and waited.
Owen looked at him, and sighed. "Just over twelve months ago my best friend died, I only found out at Katie's funeral. Julie didn't tell me before, because of Katie's illness, and then..." his voice trailed away, his finger tips rubbing across his bottom lip.
"I just buried the woman that I love more than anything in this world... and I really don't know what to do now," blinking rapidly, he looked sadly across at Jack, his hand once again wondering to the pattern on the front of his sweatshirt.
Jack sat quietly waiting for him to continue.
"You know I was best man at their wedding?" he said, suddenly. Jack nodded.
"I was Rob's best man and Katie was Julie's chief bridesmaid," he smiled sadly."When they left for the honeymoon, I drank until I was paralytic, and then apparently spent the following hours crying all over Katie's shoulder," he blinked, his voice now barely audible.
"I can't say that I remember much about it, but apparently, I informed her that I had just lost the only woman that I had ever loved, and that I was going to get totally rat-arsed and then go and drown myself. I think she got the impression I might be a bit suicidal."
Jack nodded, "I can see why she might have got that impression!" He smiled gently.
Owen smiled properly, for the first time, "She stayed with me, until she thought I was okay, and then I fell in love with her," he sighed. "Ironic really, Katie saved my life, and I fell in love with her, and then she got sick. I thought that I could save her life, like she had saved mine, but I couldn't... why do you think that is Jack? That I can never seem to save the ones that mean the most to me?"
Suddenly standing up, Owen looked down at Jack.
"You want to know what this is all about? It's about not getting hurt again, that's what it's about. From now on, I work hard and I play hard and that's it." He paused, but Jack said nothing.
"Shag 'em and leave 'em, I get what I want, they get what they want and that's it," he turned back towards the door.
The mask that was the new Owen Harper, slipped seamlessly down.
"I'll go and get that autopsy sorted," he mumbled and went out onto the walkway.
Jack watched him leave, then sadly stood up and followed him out of the room. Looking down onto the hub floor, he watched as Owen crossed to the other side. Suddenly stopping he looked up, his face a disinterested blank, his eyes dark and unresponsive.
. . . .
Jack closed the diary, gently stroking the cover with his thumb. "One of these days I'll pass this on to him, like you asked me to-when he's ready," he sighed, hoping it wouldn't be too long before he could.
The memory of Owen looking up at him haunted him, the same words always coming back to describe his expression- dead man walking.
Jack leaned across and turned out the light, lying in the quiet stillness of the dark, he slowly closed his eyes.
The End