Title: Hell's Gates
Pairings/Characters: Gwen/Rhys, Gwen/Owen, Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Jack (unrequited), Gwen/Ianto (blink and you'll miss it)
Summary: "Hell has three gates: lust, anger and greed" ~ Bahgavad Gita.
Notes/Warnings: Written for tw_lucky_7 for the prompt Greed and the character, Gwen. I've aged Gwen a year or two which isn't particularly relevant to anything except that I like to be honest. Going with that, this fic features manipulative!Gwen and is based around the events just before and during Combat. It's very unsympathetic. I've not written Gwen's POV before. It's a bit scary.

Disclaimer: This fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by Russell T Davies, the BBC and affiliates. No money is being made and no offense is intended. Characters are of legal age for sexual situations.


Gwen Cooper had always liked the attention of men. She dressed for it, applied her make-up and styled her hair for maximum impact, and she played up to it, encouraging it with flirtation and subtle innuendo. Her looks and appetite for a challenge had been advantageous in the past: free entry to clubs where she rarely had to pay for a single drink, gifts (albeit usually cheap, but still...), fucking fantastic sex and of course, the boost to her ego which was especially welcome when she turned thirty and began to worry about grey hair and sagging boobs and a drooping arse.

Once she and Rhys moved in together, though, she never let it go any further than a wink to get a free drink, was never tempted because she loved Rhys and wanted to marry him and maybe buy a house and fill it with kids and – God, help them - that bloody dog Rhys had been hinting about.

Until Torchwood came along and she found herself wanting again.

She was drawn in by the mystery, by the intrigue and adrenaline of working for a real life secret agency and, just like in her childhood television shows, there was a larger than life super hero to lead them. Jack was... incredible. He was like the sun – bright and hot – and the world revolved around him. Gwen was pulled into his orbit willingly and despite the danger, dared to look directly at him.

And she wanted him.

There was something between them that the rest of the team didn't share: electricity that crackled every time they came together; but Jack's heat, his burning intensity, kept her at a distance. She loved him, loved to bask in the warmth of his attention and approval. She loved him with an intensity that actually frightened her. It was thrilling and exciting, but she knew if she should reach out to him, give in to the temptation to touch the untouchable, that Jack would burn her beyond recognition.

She still wanted him. And the temptation to touch grew stronger and harder to fight every day.

She could have Owen, though, with his sharp words and doctor's hands – precise, delicate, and knowledgeable. There was fire here too, but it didn't blister her, it didn't threaten to turn her into dust. Instead, it made her burn with a lust, a desire, she hadn't fully satisfied in a long time and didn't realise she'd missed.

Jack was a dream, Rhys reality, but Owen.... Owen was an escape, a delicious distraction that kept her mind off the horrors she was discovering about her world and those worlds she hadn't realised existed. She and Owen were bad for each other, and it was wrong, so wrong. Unwelcome stabs of guilt sliced into her conscience every time she left one man's bed to slide into another's, all the while thinking of someone else entirely.

But it didn't stop her. She wanted it all. It was greedy, it was selfish, it was thoughtless and cruel, but now - in these three men - she had everything she needed.

Jack on his pedestal, Owen in her bed, and Rhys in her real life acting as her anchor.

Then it all came tumbling down.

Rhys was furious with her – had dismissed her like she was less than nothing, and looked at her with a contempt and disgust that made her stomach twist in fear. She had honestly never considered that Rhys might be the one to abandon the relationship. Gwen had often thought about running away with Jack and leaving Rhys behind, but suddenly, she was the one chasing after him, begging him to forgive her, to give her another chance. Rhys might not be everything she dreamed of, but he represented safety and security, and she hadn't realised how much she needed it until it was all about to be taken from her.

Owen had become tired of her and their arrangement; he'd tossed her aside like a used tissue because he – God - he'd fallen in love – with a woman he'd known for just days. It was never going to be a love story between them by any means, Gwen knew that, but her ego stung with the realisation that it had been so easy for Owen to turn his back and walk away from her, to fall for someone else in such a short time when she'd been in his bed for months.

She wouldn't fight for him. He was a distraction. He was replaceable, but her mind – her life – was in turmoil. Everything she'd built was falling apart, and she needed someone she knew was steady and strong and who would make her feel special. Someone who would look at her like she'd hung the moon. She needed Jack.

When she found Jack, he was in the little kitchenette at the Hub, talking quietly with Ianto. Gwen decided her need was greater than Ianto's tonight and was about to call to them when she saw Ianto cup Jack's face in his hands before leaning in to kiss him. Not a chaste, innocent kiss of friendship by any means; this was something else entirely. She watched as the kiss deepened, Ianto's hands sliding into Jack's hair as Jack clutched at his jacket, and the palpable needwant left Gwen with a yawning, cavernous hollow inside her, left her breathless with jealousy.

How had Ianto done it? How was he able to touch Jack when she couldn't? How had he avoided being consumed by Jack's flames? But as she continued to stare, she noticed that Jack's fire had been momentarily stoked. He was allowing Ianto to get close, to touch; he was encouraging it by clinging to the other man, the man who had hid himself and betrayed them all, betrayed Jack. He was pulling Ianto out of his usual orbit and drawing him closer and closer, and Ianto was glowing, absorbing Jack's searing heat and thriving on the warmth instead of combusting.

Gwen turned on her heel and set her jaw. She'd had it all – lust and love, excitement and safety, fantasy and reality – but now, it was all hanging by a thread, and she refused to let it all fall. She walked quickly towards Jack's office and took a little white pill from his cache, pocketing it before hastily retreating.

She might have lost Owen, but he could be replaced easily enough. Rhys... Gwen smiled grimly and patted the pea-sized lump in her pocket. She could take care of that, make it...well, not right, but better. Rhys would be happier if he didn't remember the last day, and so would she. And as for Jack...

Gwen looked up at the two men, no longer kissing, but still standing in each other's space. She eyed Ianto thoughtfully. He was nice-looking enough, but he wasn't a serious contender for Jack's affections – too uptight, too serious and solemn. There had to be some hidden depths though, if Jack had taken him into his bed and, for a moment, Gwen considered the merits of seducing Ianto Jones herself. It would kill two birds with one stone: he'd be a sweet replacement for Owen, and it would get him out of Jack's trajectory.

She smirked to herself as she contemplated the idea, and quietly departed to find Rhys. Whoever said you couldn't have it all didn't know Gwen Cooper.

fin.