Jack sat in his office, paperwork strewn across his desk, he could hear the door to the garage as it opened and closed. Ianto was clearly busy collecting equipment for the trip, sighing he leaned back in his chair, rubbing the tips of his fingers together, then pressed them against his lips. He mentally ticked the check list of things that had to be done before they left, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything. The most important thing was all the alerts had been diverted to UNIT to deal with.
He glanced out into the hub, the monitors were all switched off now, the place looked strange without the blue glow they generated, he'd never thought of blue as a colour that brought something to life, but without it, the hub looked stark and dead.
Standing up, he began to collect together the files he'd been working on, then carried them to a filing cabinet against the far wall, dropped them into various drawers, then with a final sigh, pushed the last drawer closed, locked the unit and pushed the bunch of keys back into his pocket.
. . . .
Toshiko sat in her car, trying to make her mind up what to do about contacting Owen. She knew that his sat nav was still off, she'd checked before leaving the hub- the information file still hadn't been downloaded.
She kept telling herself that he had plenty of time to get the update tomorrow, before he joined them, trouble was, she had a nasty feeling that he was going to make some kind of excuse, and that would mean, she was going to get it in the neck from Jack all weekend, especially if (as she suspected) Owen didn't put in an appearance.
Finally making up her mind, she grabbed her mobile, and rang Owen's number.
. . . .
Owen kicked the door to his flat closed behind him. Humming to himself, he dumped keys and phone onto the coffee table, then jogged over to the fridge, pulled out a large bottle of champagne, wiped it carefully with a tea towel and stood it on the work top, grabbed a pair of glasses from one of the unit cupboards, then placed them next to the bottle.
Rubbing his hands together, he grinned, then went back to the coffee table, picked up his mobile and checked for messages.
He sighed-nothing! Just as he was about to drop the phone down again, it rang. He glanced at the display and groaned, his eyes narrowed.
"This is the voice mail of Owen Harper, don't leave a message and I won't get back to you," he parroted, then held his breath and waited.
Tosh's voice said, "Um...Owen?... It's Tosh. You still haven't plugged in your sat nav," she paused, then added, "Don't forget to, if you do I'll get it in the neck from Jack, and I'll see you tomorrow, " then her voice took on a warning tone, "And don't try to duck out of it Owen," then hung up.
"Bloody hell, talk about no hiding place," he grumbled, tossing the phone onto a chair.
. . . .
Jennifer Allen's finger hovered over the bell push, she bit her lip, took a deep breath and sighed. Owen really wasn't going to like this! Not that she was exactly overjoyed herself-this weekend of all the ones they could have picked!
She pressed the bell and waited, then smiled, the faint sound of Owen yelling something, reached her ears, she shook her head, he was like a two year old sometimes!
The door swung open, bouncing back off its hinges. "Jen," he yelled, grabbing her and pulling her quickly inside.
She found herself giggling, without meaning to, his hands seemed to be everywhere!
"Owen!" she protested, trying to push him away.
"God, I've missed you!" he announced, pushing her back towards the wall, at the same time hooking the door closed with his foot. "About bloody time," he murmured, pressing hard against her, kissing her, his hand busy undoing the buttons of her blouse.
She laughed and pushed back against him, then leaned back slightly, " You don't waste any time!"
"Not soddin' '' likely," he responded, pushing her back the other way.
Jen wriggled, trying to fend off his hands, finally succeeding, she made a run for the living room, she knew he was close behind her, clearly thinking it was a game she was playing.
"Woo, hard to get ... I love it when you fight," he announced, grabbing her and pulling her down onto the settee.
Jen pushed against his shoulders, trying to look annoyed, but it was impossible. "Owen... please..." she pleaded, making another attempt to move away from him.
Owen gave her a baffled look, then slid across the settee, glaring down at the coffee table in front of him, then looking sideways at her, said, "Don't tell me... let me guess," a disappointed look on his face.
Jen sighed, sitting up, she pushed a piece of wayward auburn fringe away from her eyes, and gave him a doleful look. He looked so damned adorable, when he put on the dejected look, trouble was, she knew only too well, how good he was at producing it, usually when he wanted to get his own way- and there was only one thing that ever led to!
Moving over to him, she cuddled close, "I'm sorry," she murmured, quietly.
Owen glanced at her, his eyes wondered from her face to the open blouse, he reached towards her, tracing the shape of her throat with his finger, then ran it slowly down until it stopped between her breasts. " How sorry?" he enquired, his fingers pressing under the lace cup of her bra.
She closed her eyes and groaned, "Oh god Owen, don't do that!"
"What?" he teased, " This?" and moved his hand further over her breast, then pushing her back down towards the cushions.
She closed her eyes, if she didn't stop him right now... slipping off the edge of the settee, she stood up and turned away from him, fastening the buttons of her blouse as quickly as she could, silently praying that he wouldn't try and stop her. If he did, she was lost, and she knew it.
Owen didn't move, glaring up at her back, he blinked and pressed his lips together, "So what is it this time?" he demanded, coldly.
She winced at the tone in his voice, she didn't want to leave with him feeling like this about her, she turned towards him, "I'm so sorry," she said, pleading with him to forgive her, then crouched down in front of him, gripping one of his knees to help her balance.
He wouldn't look at her. She rubbed his knee, if he would just look at her, "They cancelled all leave... there's nothing I could do."
Owen finally looked reluctantly her way, "They say why?" he asked, looking dolefully into her eyes.
She shook her head, "You know they never do," she answered, quietly, although both of them knew it was a pointless question to ask.
He shrugged and moved his hand on top of her's, "How long have we got?" he asked. She looked away from him. "That long!" he said, his voice disappointed.
Standing up, she straightened her skirt and forced a smile, "I have to go... they're waiting for me," she paused, nervously waiting to see what his reaction would be, for a split second he didn't move, she thought he wasn't going to, then he blinked and stood up beside her.
"I should be used to this by now... we both should," he looked into her eyes, then cupper her chin with his hands and kissed her long and hard.
She responded to him, refusing to pull back, determined not to give him any more grounds for doubting how she felt about him, as the seconds ticked by she felt her resistance crumbling, "Oh hell Owen, come up for air, for god's sake..." she thought desperately. Almost as if he had heard her, he suddenly broke the kiss.
For a moment she didn't move, then touched his lips with her finger, smiled briefly, then turned towards the door. Owen followed silently behind, then leaned forward and opened the door for her.
She didn't dare to look at him as she passed, then suddenly turned back, grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled him towards her, kissing him, as she released him, she smiled, "And if you so much as look at anyone else this weekend..." she threatened.
Owen smirked, "And if I were you, madam, I'd get the hell out of here, before I lose all sense of decorum, throw you to the ground and have my wicked way, out there in the corridor," he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, then grinned.
She laughed and walked away, turning back, she was just in time to see the door close, she sighed, and made her way downstairs to the waiting transport, hoping that she really was forgiven.
Slouching his way back to the settee, Owen collapsed down onto it, "What kind of weekend did you have, Owen?" he said in a fake, chatty, voice. "Oh, bloody wonderful," he answered himself back," Quick grope and there she was-gone!"
He glared at the mobile phone, thinking he should ring Tosh back and get the details for the trip, he flipped through the phone numbers, looking for hers. Finding it, he looked at the display, "And if you think I'm plugging in that ruddy sat nav, you can forget it darlin'," and hit the dial button.
. . . .
Toshiko moved slowly around the kitchen, Pot Noodle in one hand, fork in the other. She swirled the fork around in the bottom of the pot, wondering for the umpteenth time, why the hell she bought these things, instead of proper food. She sighed, largely because she lived alone and she hated shopping, that, and never seeming to be able to find the time to be bothered, that was why.
She had already tossed a few essentials and a change of clothes into a bag and kept glancing out of the kitchen window, between mouth fulls, expecting to see the SUV pull up at any minute.
She was between mouth full and window when the phone rang, seeing it was Owen, she answered more quickly than she should. The first few seconds of the call, were taken up with her choking loudly at him.
When she finally stopped coughing and put the phone to her ear, the first thing she heard was Owen's voice, "Bloody hell Tosh, even I can't manage a soddin'' Heimlich over the phone."
"Sorry," she coughed again.
Owen sighed, "Yeah well, don't worry about it darlin', it seems to be my lucky day for women apologising," he grumbled back.
Tosh shrugged, she hadn't the faintest idea what he was going on about, not that it was unusual, most of what Owen burbled on about went straight over her head, and the vast majority of the rest of it, that did make sense, she often heartily wished didn't!
"What do you want Owen?" she demanded, looking out of the window yet again, "I haven't got much time."
"Sorry, Tosh," Owen's voice sounded like he was trying to be apologetic, but she knew him too well to be fooled, "Oh spit it out, will you Owen? I'm busy."
"Okay, the sat nav's knackered, can you text me with the info and I'll fish out some maps ?" Owen winced as Tosh yelled down the phone at him, then apologised.
"Sorry, yes I will, soon as I can. Might not be tonight though... Jack will be here any minute... unless you want us to meet up with you, so you can follow us down?" she suggested, hopefully.
Owen closed his eyes slowly, "Um, no, texting me the info will do fine, Tosh. Thanks, um, better go, night," and hung up, before she could say any more.
Toshiko sighed, "Idiot," she berated herself, leaning against the kitchen counter, another seconds wait, and her mouth would have been empty, instead, what did she do?
"God, that was so embarrassing!" she murmured to herself.
"Owen bloody Harper," she yelled, throwing the fork into the sink, "Honestly, Toshiko, of all the available men in this world, why the hell did it have to be him?" she kicked at the peddle bin and dropped the pot, and its half eaten contents into it.
Owen opened up his laptop and went hunting for the mapping site. "What was it again?" He sighed, "Oh, sod it!" and snapped the laptop shut.
Him following them? He winced, that was the last thing he wanted! With no sat nav and just maps, there was a very good chance that he could get himself lost. Hopefully at the nearest pub, for the entire weekend, and without as much as a drip from a paint ball.