"He set me off!" Tosh cried out, laughing.

She felt light, held up by the force of the prank and the general camaraderie in the Hub, and was nonetheless impressed by Gwen Cooper's bravery and cleverness. She didn't expect to see her again, however.

After that, most things were predictable. Ianto became the exception when he didn't give Owen the time of day and thus didn't hook up with him, and Gwen became the exception when she turned him down in the middle of the Hub.

She didn't turn him down later, and Tosh... paused, at that. She hadn't thought Gwen was different, but there was something there, some... Not disappointment, not really. Owen was attractive, both in looks and personality despite his abrasiveness. Like wanting to kiss the school bully. But she had a boyfriend, didn't she?

She held herself confidently and although she was a bit naive—hadn't they all been, at some point? Tosh wished she still was—she was quick on her feet and good with a gun and she looked fantastic in her usual jeans and leather jackets.

She drew Tosh into conversation and had lingered by the door as Tosh passed by it after Mary's death—murder—, hair disheveled, tears still drying on her cheeks.

She said, "Sorry," and Tosh didn't know what she was sorry for, but she'd said the same to Ianto.

She brought Tosh coffee the next day, flavored with raspberry, and sat on the edge of her desk asking about how Tosh was and what she was interested in, and it didn't feel forced or temporary.

Gwen was a good conversation partner.

She slept with Owen and spent with Tosh and slowly developed a friendship with Ianto, and endlessly talked about her boyfriend, about his cooking and his dedication to his job as a manager of a lorry company.

Tosh snooped around it: Harwood's Haulage. You won't be sorry with a Harwood's lorry! It had taken a week for the song to stop playing non-stop in her head, and another two weeks before things stopped reminding her of it.

It was then that Gwen invited Tosh to dinner for the first time. Tosh wore her best dress and made it look casual with jeans and an old necklace, and saw, to her surprise, a similar effort on Gwen and Rhys's part, a low-cut shirt, and a button-up.

"Welcome," Rhys said, playing it up just a bit but overwhelmingly sincere.

They had a circular table and Tosh sat between them but Gwen sat between them and so did Rhys, because that was the beauty of such a table, and wasn't left out of their jokes and stories.

Rhys didn't know about Torchwood, and as Tosh sat with them, she couldn't help but curse the rules that forbade Gwen from letting Rhys see what she really did.

.oOo.

Gwen stopped seeing Owen when he fell in love with Diane. She held him when he cried, later, all bandaged up from his stupid suicidal Weevil battle. She kissed his forehead and said, "I'm sorry."

Then, she went back to her flat and saw Emma off to London, and had Christmas dinner with Rhys, and invited Tosh over for leftovers.

She had been over a few times, now, enough to have not only her own mug but also for Gwen and Rhys to stock her favorite ice-cream flavor.

Tosh liked to tuck her feet up onto the sofa when they watched a film, and instinctively leaned to the side, which made it easy to lean back into her. Rhys always sat on her other side when they spent time together like this, sometimes slinging his arm around the back of the sofa, playing with the hair over Gwen's shoulder, or resting his hand on Gwen's ankle and absentmindedly rubbing circles into it.

He didn't have that same intimacy with Tosh. She was Gwen's friend, first, a coworker before that, and she saw his melancholy sometimes, the same look that had formed when she told him about wanting to sleep with Owen. He understood, and it wasn't the physical relationships, but the implications of emotional intimacy, that he was... Gwen didn't want to think of Rhys as a jealous man. He wasn't. He'd made fun of her often enough for not getting into something with Andy, pointing to his obvious kindness and good looks. No, it wasn't that. It was the fact that he was removed from Torchwood, removed from her world, and yet the world came to their flat several times a week and made nice with him.

Tosh was lovely, a bit awkward, too smart for her own good, too beautiful to still be single, and too kind to feel so lonely. She was perfect.

At the end of it all, when Jack had disappeared, she turned right back to her work, maybe more withdrawn and maybe not. Gwen was distracted, now, trying to pick up the pieces, barely returning home awake at the end of the night.

Did Tosh ever sleep? Gwen saw the circles under her eyes—which they all had, it didn't mean anything—and asked.

"You have something to go home to." She shrugged and frowned when Gwen opened her mouth. "Not that I don't! But I can't imagine what it's like for Rhys. For you. You're keeping us going."

I keep you going.

"Tosh..." Gwen stepped forward, reaching out, her boots echoing off the grated floor. "You don't have to—"

"I'm not martyring myself." That was Ianto's job. "I know I don't. I like Torchwood."

I like you. Gwen took a shallow breath. Yes, that's what it was. She'd been attracted to Tosh, physically, emotionally, seeing her as a friend and potentially more, and yet. This was new. This was new and it was almost frightening how intense it was, and Gwen wanted to take another step forward, put a hand on Tosh's shoulder, pull her off the chair and into her arms.

"You don't have to stay here," Gwen said at last. "Come home with me."

"Rhys—"

"Always has a place for you."

.oOo.

Rhys hadn't been introduced to Owen. That was fine. They met each other's partners usually, but a break from routine wasn't threatening. Gwen had fun with him and got emotional support and intimacy as well, which didn't always happen, but if Owen was to be a long-time partner, it was necessary. He was present for a while, and then he wasn't, and Gwen spoke of him with fondness and just a little sorrow.

Rhys wasn't a fool. Whatever special ops team Gwen had joined, it had changed her. She was still the woman he fell in love with, the woman he woke up with every morning and fell asleep with every night, the woman who burned toast and praised every little thing he could do in the kitchen, even lasagna. She was warm and kind and determined, but there was something between them now that Rhys couldn't touch.

Torchwood. Cardiff whispered about them. Special ops. Outside the government, beyond the police—overdramatic bullshit, but true, in a way.

Gwen hadn't lost the fierce way in which she cared, but she hurt now, and if Owen helped that, then Rhys would kiss him upon meeting him.

He didn't meet Owen, however; it was a woman called Toshiko—Tosh—who smiled at him and laughed with Gwen, and seemed to be just as bad a cook. Was it a Torchwood thing? Rhys wasn't some overblown action hero, but surely even secret agents knew how to cook!

Odd.

Gwen was odd.

Rhys was odd.

Tosh was odd, too, in a quiet way, and she fit into their flat well, taking up space on the sofa, in the living room, at the dinner table. Not too much space, not blending into the background—just enough.

She came home with Gwen, tired and quieter than usual, and Rhys upped his jokes and teasing, and served them extra ice-cream with dessert, and didn't need Gwen's pleading eyes to ask Tosh to stay the night. He wanted her to.

Gwen showed her to the guest bedroom and Rhys brought her sheets—the nice one they didn't even use for their parents.

They said goodnight at the door before making their way to their bedroom, which Rhys entered after Gwen did.

She laughed. "Being a gentleman tonight?"

"I'm always a gentleman."

Gwen hummed, laughing, and turned back to kiss him. "Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Gwen rested her head against Rhys's shoulder; he tucked her in there for a moment, holding her close. "Rhys?"

"Yes, love?"

"Do you like Tosh?"

It wasn't a sudden question, and Rhys smiled; he'd almost expected Gwen to come through the door all those months ago and say, This is Tosh. She's my girlfriend now. But this? This was different.

"Yes," he said with a grin.

"Good." Gwen was silent, then stepped out of his embrace, holding onto his arms in the way she did when she had something important to say. "Rhys?"

"Yes?"

But Gwen shook her head. "I'll tell you in the morning."

.oOo.

Morning came, and with it, a conversation.

It was a simple one, conducted on the ratty sofa in the Cooper-Williams household, over eggs and morning tea and a new bottle of orange juice opened specifically for the occasion.

"We've discussed this before," Gwen told Tosh as Rhys nodded along.

"Discussed it?"

"You becoming our girlfriend."

There was silence for a moment, not a tense one, but a small break; outside, a truck backed up, beeping and banging into several wheelie bins, then the neighbors started to yell at the disturbance. Inside, Tosh swallowed her breakfast, smiled, and nodded.

"I'd like that," she said, and that was that.

Later still, when the outside was dim not from the remnants of night but from its coming, and Rhys sat with Gwen and Tosh over dinner, basking in their compliments and feeling only slightly bitter that they worked together in secret and he was in charge of a lorry company, Gwen started a conversation with him, Tosh at her side.

"I think it's time you know what I do," she said, and spun a tale of aliens and outer space and Queen Victoria and tragic romance, and a group of five—now four—little humans who stood between Wales and certain death.

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