Disclaimers: Torchwood, Owen and Tosh belong to the BBC, RTD, etc.
Request on my LiveJournal for an Owen drabble.
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Tosh watched in morbid fascination as Owen worked quickly and efficiently on his patient. Even amidst the rubble of the building, surrounded by chaos, he was cool and collected as he worked to clear the young man's airway. He'd deftly cut into his throat with a penknife from his pocket, and was now inserting the hollow tube of the biro Tosh had found in her bag. The tools were primitive and the results were somewhat crude, but Tosh couldn't help marvelling at the skill that Owen possessed to be able to perform the procedure. It seemed to be working, though, air whistling through the tube as the patient's lungs filled with air.
"Good to know your years as a medical student haven't been a waste," Tosh laughed shakily, trying to lighten the mood.
"I didn't learn that in medical school," Owen informed her sharply. "It's what inspired me to be a doctor when I was in school, though."
Toshiko didn't think she wanted to know what kind of situation Owen had been in to warrant needing to learn how to perform an emergency tracheostomy while he was only a teenager. She wasn't sure she'd ever have been able to do that if she'd ever been in his position.
"Only, I used a straw then," Owen was saying, "Night out, grabbed one from one of them novelty cocktails. More straws than pens anyway, despite all the pricks out for phone numbers. I still managed to pull, though. Or I had until I ended up having to stick a straw in her sodding throat. Kind of lost her appeal after that."
Tosh rolled her eyes. Even when he was being brilliant, Owen Harper could still manage to be a complete tosser.
Fin.