Title: Tears of the Weevil

Summary: Gwen's never exactly follow Jack's orders religiously.

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Don't own Torchwood, the characters or anything related to the show.

Gwen woke early the next morning, quickly dressing and leaving an exhausted Owen still fast asleep on the couch. She took his car keys from the kitchen counter and found he still owned the same sports car. She chuckled as she began driving. Commitment, even to a car, wasn't Owen's usual style.

She knew Jack would be angry that she'd ran off on her own, leaving Owen and venturing in to a world she didn't belong in, but she had to see Rhys. She was dead in this time. How was he coping? Was he looking after himself? Had he moved on?

She parked across the street from the flat they had shared and waited. He'd be leaving for work soon. Twenty minutes later he still hadn't left the flat. For the first time Gwen really took in the street around her. Three years on and it looked no different, she could be sitting in 2007 and nothing would look amiss. Except for Rhys' car. It wasn't there. How had she missed something like that?

Getting out of the car she quickly made her way over to the apartment block. Checking the names next to each buzzer she soon found her flat. Instead of her and Rhys' names written in his scrawl, there was the name of one woman written in neat script. Margery Plough. Pushing the buzzer she waited for a response. The door unlocked and she rushed up to the floor her flat was on. Standing at the door was an elderly woman. "Hello." Gwen forced herself to smile. "Do you live here?"

"Oh yes dear." The woman replied, a broad smile covering her wrinkled face. She pushed her spectacles up her nose, trying to get a better view of the young woman standing by her door. "Margery Plough."

"Nice to meet you. My name's Gwen." She shook the old woman's hand. "Do you mind if I ask how long you've lived here? Just I used to know the man who lived here before you."

"Oh! He was a nice man. Sold me the place two years back now. Him and the wife wanted a bigger place what with the baby due." Wife? Baby? She had a child and no one had thought to mention it? He or she would be two years old by now, walking, talking and running circles round Rhys no doubt. Was her a good dad? Could he look after a child on his own?

"I don't suppose you know where they moved to?" It was a long shot and she knew it but Gwen had to know straight away where Rhys and her child were. The woman thought for a few moments before mumbling something about letters and how unreliable the post was. She left the door for a few moments and returned with a small stack of letters and a note attached to them. It had an address on.
"They still send letters here for them! That's the address I pass them on to. A nice young postman takes them for me. I suppose you could drop them off." Gwen could barely contain her excitement as she said her goodbyes and raced back to the car. She was going to see her family.

The address was an street in a good area, next to the local school and with people carrier's parked outside the doors. It was a place to raise a family. Gwen parked a little down the street from number twenty seven, hoping to catch a glimpse of Rhys and her child.

Holding her breath she watches as the door to number twenty seven opened. A young blonde woman around Gwen's age emerged carrying a baby boy with bright blonde hair. He was the double of his father, however, he looked nothing like Gwen. She heard the boy call the stranger 'mummy' and her heart sank. It wasn't her son. Rhys wasn't her husband. Checking the numerous letters that she'd left on the passenger seat she found no mention of her. All of the letter were addressed to Rhys or a Mrs S. Williams.

She was shaken from her thoughts and self pity by the passenger door opening. She watched silently as Owen slid in to the front seat, his expression neutral. He was angry at her though. She could tell from the way he was holding his jaw. "You, Gwen Cooper, are extremely predictable." He broke the awkward silence, his gaze focusing on the blonde woman and her son as they got in to the family car. "Her name's Sarah Williams. That's her son Ryan. That's all you need to know."

She clenched her hands tightly around the steering wheel, forcing herself to remain calm. "The man I love is married and has a two year old son even though I've been dead less than a year-"

"Three months." Owen interrupted. "And if it helps you left him." He knew he was telling her too much, but he wasn't Jack. He couldn't cut himself off from the rest of humanity when he wanted to.

"Why?" Gwen choked out. "I know we had our problems but that was my fault not his-"

She paused as she noticed Owen had changed. He was no longer staring out the window but at her. He looked so hurt and vulnerable, so very unlike Owen. The grief shining through in his eyes was enough to make her want to hold him "Owen? What is it? What's wrong?"

"I'm sitting here with a woman who I know isn't actually my Gwen, but is exactly like her and I'm helping her stalk her ex-boyfriend's wife, who actually drove off a few minutes ago." He smiled. A sad and forced smile. "You left Rhys for someone else. Me." She stared at him in disbelief, shaking her head. She would never leave a stable, loving relationship like she with Rhys for casual sex. Then it dawned on her, the way Owen acted around her, angry at her for not being the Gwen he'd lost, for wanting Rhys and not him. It was more than just a fling.

"I thought you were with that girl Lacey." They both laughed at her confession. Only she could come out with something like that after Owen's revelation. "Well you were all over each other." Owen shook his head and continued to laugh. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to laugh and enjoy himself that the noise sounded foreign to his ears, like someone else was laughing, not him.

"We're just friends, besides Lacey wouldn't be interested." He explained. "Look, to set the record straight, you left Rhys for me. We lived together until you died, that's why your clothes are at my place, and why I hid those photos and stuff before you could see them. Jack doesn't want you knowing more than you need to, but I can't handle you being her and not being her. I didn't want you thinking I was being a prat by acting weird around you-"

"Wouldn't be the first time." She teased, earning a genuine smile from him.

"How about we get back to the hub? Start running some blood work on you to see whether or not I wasted six months of my life." He smirked as his façade slipped back in to place. He was no longer showing his vulnerability or his grief over losing the woman he loved, and Gwen doubted she would see that side of him again.