Just some more fluffy nonsense, based on a game my family plays which seems like the type of thing Gwen might come up with.
Warnings: Slight Gwen-bashing, (actually there's everyone-bashing, I'm not singling her out, really!)
Timeframe: Nowhere specific, most likely somewhere near Gwen's wedding, though Owen isn't conspicuously dead..
No offence is intended towards anyone's particularly beloved choice of vehicle!
Anyway thanks for clicking and I hope you enjoy.

Torchwood huddled in the SUV, watching. Waiting.

"What I don't understand," Owen complained, for what Ianto assured them was the eleventh time that evening, "is why the whole bloody team had to come on this stakeout."

Jack sighed. He was bored too, but if he could resist the impulse to play fanfares on the horn, Owen could resist the urge to whine, surely? "It's gotta be someone else's turn to explain," he announced.

"Because the Blowfish announcing their intentions of negotiating an end to their gang wars is a huge step for them, and we should be here to witness it," Gwen offered, twisting around so she could look at Owen. She was occupying the front passenger seat, at the insistence of everyone who wasn't Jack. Owen had announced that the only way he could survive a stakeout was if he didn't have to witness Jack grope Ianto all the way through it. And while Ianto had served Owen decaf shortly thereafter, he'd already been in the back seat with Tosh and Owen when Gwen got out to the SUV.

"Whereas if it's just an excuse for them to murder each other, we have to be here to stop it," Tosh continued, given that Gwen had apparently become lost in thought. Tosh was at least as bored as the rest of them, but there were worse places to be than wedged in between Ianto and Owen. She was warm at least, not to mention basking in the sneaking impression that Owen wasn't pressed quite as close to the door as he might have.

"And we've no way of knowing if they've been clever in telling us about the peace talks so we won't interfere, or stupid enough to assume that we'd take their word for it," Ianto added.

"But if it does blow up," Jack concluded, "It'll need all of us, so if we only put a pair of us on stakeout the rest wouldn't get here in time. And if you ask again, Owen, I swear I'll send you in there as our representative during the negotiations."

Owen subsided into silence. For at least seven minutes.

"I'm so bloody bored," he complained. "I'd even be grateful for one of Cooper's stupid games."

Gwen surveyed the vehicle with a hopeful smile on her face.

"Go ahead," Jack said. "It's gotta be better than listening to Owen whine."

Ianto and Tosh nodded. Owen looked injured.

Gwen tapped her chin in thought, then smiled broadly. "Given where we are," she said, "Let's do…If we were cars, what model would we be?"

It was testament to how very bored they were that no-one protested. Brows creased in thought.

"Tosh'd be a Volvo," Owen suggested.

Tosh's face wrinkled doubtfully. "Aren't they kind of boring?" she asked.

"Highly respected, though," Gwen put in hurriedly. She didn't want another of her little games to end in disaster.

"A fine piece of engineering," Jack offered, twisting his head back between the seats so he could grin at Tosh.

"Technically brilliant," Ianto confirmed.

Tosh eyed them all warily, still not quite sure whether the mickey was being taken. Everyone looked innocently back at her, which didn't help in the least, especially given how bad Jack was at looking innocent.

"And…..well…..you can trust a Volvo," Owen said, into the silence.

Tosh leaned back against her seat with a smile on her face. "Now you, Owen…"

"I'd have to be an ambulance, surely?" Owen answered hurriedly, before Teaboy could apply that uncomfortably razor-sharp wit.

"All noise and rush?" Ianto said, getting in anyway.

"Determinedly heroic," Tosh said grandly, on the basis that he'd said something nice about her – she thought.

"And it gets the job done once it arrives," Jack put in.

"Leaving a mess for everyone else to clean up," Gwen ended, having seen the leftovers of too many crime scenes during her time in the police.

Owen contemplated it, decided it could have been worse, and moved them on.

"Gwen's one of those soccer mum cars," he decided.

Gwen scowled. "A family car with airs above itself?" she demanded.

Owen gave a good impression of being affronted. "I was gonna say, looks good, and it's got grunt if you need it."

Gwen subsided, mollified, then looked at the rest of the team with expectation.

"Shiny and well optioned," Jack stated. He winked. "With curves in all the right places."

Gwen turned a faint shade of pink.

"Comforting," Ianto supplied, determinedly not glaring at Jack, who'd bent himself around the headrest again to observe the impact of his statement.

"Great bumpers," Jack continued, clearly enjoying both Gwen's blushes and Ianto's death looks.

"Popular," Toshiko put in. She could see the hurt under Ianto's game-playing and wished they'd never started this, as she tended to with all of Gwen's games. Owen straightened beside her, and she could see a gleam in his eyes which didn't bode well. Given their positioning, though, it was no problem to deliver an elbow to the ribs.

Owen turned to her with an injured expression, trying for innocent and failing more miserably than Jack did.

"Don't you dare!" Tosh hissed, under the cover of Jack's continuing sallies.

"But everyone has tried one," Owen protested, though in an undertone, given the proximity of the pointy elbow.

"That's unfair," Tosh whispered, with her best attempt at severity. "You're not everyone!"

Owen waggled his eyebrows at her. "I'm everyone that counts," he whispered back.

Tosh giggled. Jack glanced at them with suspicion, and then grinned.

"Ianto next," he ordered, casting the young man a look that achieved the expected amount of eyebrow.

"If we must," Ianto muttered. "As long as Jack doesn't get to choose."

Jack pouted. The others smirked.

After a moment's contemplation, during which Owen found himself paralysed by far too many options, Gwen squealed – quietly. They were on a stakeout after all.

"Volkswagen Beetle," she announced with triumph. "Cute and reliable."

Owen frowned thoughtfully. "Haven't they got their engines in their boots, but?" he asked. His face cleared as the others nodded back. "Good choice, then, since he's such a smart-arse."

Ianto waited patiently until the laughter subsided. "I believe enthusiasts refer to them as Bugs, rather than Beetles," he corrected.

Owen wasn't one to pass up an opening like that. "Even better," he announced with glee, "'Cause everyone wants to squash you."

"But many have tried, and none succeeded," Tosh put in, deciding to come to Ianto's defense, since Jack was simply sitting back smirking. "Well, it keeps reinventing itself, doesn't it? The Beetle, sorry, the Bug, I mean."

"Tenacious," Jack said, smiling fondly at Ianto.

"And really," Tosh continued, "Who doesn't want one of their very own, even if they won't admit it?"

Jack chuckled, the sound rolling around the walls of the vehicle. Tosh smiled to herself and leaned back again, well satisfied. Ianto looked slightly hunted, as both Gwen and Owen cast him guilty glances before turning to stare out of their various windows.

"And let's not forget the most important thing," Jack said, with a florid wink that made Tosh wish she had a window to look out of as well. "A hell of a lot of fun to ride."

In the ominous silence that followed, everyone could clearly hear the air being drawn into Ianto's lungs for his retort.

"Blowfish on the move," Owen yelled. "And they're armed."

-XXX-

"I'll save everyone the 'I told you so's,'" Owen announced. He dropped a final bullet into the dish Tosh held out for him, then straightened with a groan. "It was a good thing we were there."

"Not so good for Jack," Tosh pointed out. The bullets rattled in their metal dish as she placed in on the counter. She'd stopped counting after six.

Gwen stroked Jack's hair back into place. "He's a hero – again," she sighed. "Those bullets were meant for the two gang leaders. If Jack hadn't thrown himself in the way…."

The stairs creaked as Ianto made his way down, one arm weighted down by a pile of clothes topped by a crisp blue shirt. "I've gotten the clothes you asked for, Owen," he announced. "Even stopped to iron the shirt." He reached the bottom of the stairs and eyed Owen coolly. "Have you finished sparing me yet?"

"Got the bullets out," Owen informed him, refusing to be daunted. As far as he was concerned, Ianto was Jack's next-of-kin, and there were correct methods for dealing with that, whether the pigheaded Teaboy agreed with it or not.

Ianto nodded. "He'll back awake soon then." He draped the clothes over the back of a chair, dragged it next to the autopsy table, and settled himself into it. To wait.

"Bloody Blowfish," Gwen muttered, rubbing already red eyes.

"It was just a renegade element," Tosh said defensively. "Most of them really wanted peace. And now they know Torchwood's on their side, who knows? Maybe the peace-mongers will get their way." She smiled sadly down at Jack's limp form. "At least it wasn't a pointless sacrifice."

"This time," Ianto said softly, taking Jack's hand in his own.

"We never did get around to deciding which car Jack is," Tosh mentioned, more to fill the silence than anything else. "Something sporty, don't you think?"

"Yeah, something flashy," Owen agreed. His heart wasn't in it, though. Jack hadn't moved yet. There'd been a hell of a lot of bullets. And Jack's luck had to run out sometime, didn't it?

"Like a Porsche," Tosh offered, after a pause.

"Or a Ferrari," Gwen agreed. Her voice was just as flat as the others.

The air in the room hung heavy with the weight of words they never spoke….. There has to be a time he doesn't come back.

"Nah, stuff those," Owen said, giving Ianto's shoulder a subtle pat. "Nothing that flimsy. More like a tank, I reckon. Bloody unstoppable, Jack is."

Ianto smiled up at Owen, then looked back down at Jack. "He's an Audi," he said decisively.

Jack chose that moment to gasp back into life. Ianto winced as Jack's hand tightened convulsively on his own, but made no attempt to disengage. Instead, his free arm snaked out, wrapping around Jack and drawing his trembling body into the shelter it sought.

"Aw, you brought clothes," Jack grumbled into Ianto's shoulder, quite loudly enough for the rest to hear. "Why'd you bring clothes? Don't you want to check that everything came back?"

Ianto whispered something. Jack's loose muscles tensed, and he drew back to deliver a nearly-perfect smile at the rest of team, still standing in a loose semicircle around the bed. Tosh wondered if the others felt as uncomfortable as she did. It was obvious to her that they were intruding into a private moment between the two men.

"Did someone say Audi?" Jack asked. "Who decided I'm an Audi?"

"I did," Ianto admitted, his face reddening. "I... I... thought you were still out to it."

"Of course you did," Jack agreed. He leaned forward and kissed Ianto's forehead. "That'll do then. A good car, the Audi. Memorable."

Ianto smiled faintly. Jack detached himself slowly from Ianto's arms and produced a much better grin for his audience. "Now, I don't have an issue with you guys watching me undress…..but you ought to at least shove some money in my g-string….Do I have a g-string in this lot, Ianto?"

The autopsy bay emptied rather rapidly.

"Why an Audi?" Gwen asked, puzzled, as they emerged back into the main Hub and dispersed to their various desks. A Blowfish war meant paperwork.

Owen shook his head. "Ianto's got an Audi," he informed her. "An old one."

"A classic," Ianto corrected, from over near the coffee machine. Paperwork needed caffeine.

"Beautifully maintained, very faithful," Tosh added, somewhat dreamily.

Ianto locked eyes with Gwen as he handed her a steaming mug. "And it's mine," he said firmly.

Gwen looked back into the blue depths and found a smile of her own. "Sounds like Jack to me," she agreed.

Ianto's attitude here might make more sense if I explain that I'm playing with the idea that he was making a few possessive gestures around the time of the wedding - cutting into that dance, for eg - and is it only me who suspects he kind of planned for Gwen to find them in Adrift? He didn't seem uncomfortable enough about it...eh ...I ramble, I'll stop!