Bang bang bang.
Owen opened his eyes, listening. As his eyes wandered to the clock, he swore under his breath. Who would be knocking on his door at three in the bloody morning?
BANG BANG BANG.
"Alright, already! I'm coming." Owen shouted, throwing back the covers and scrambling for a pair of jeans that lay forgotten on the floor. As he grabbed a clean shirt from the dresser and dragged it over his head he flipped on a light. Then he grabbed his gun from the bedside and vowed to shoot whoever was waking him up this early.
Owen aimed the barrel at the door and reluctantly opened the door, prepared for a alien or a robber of some such.
What he got however, was an Ianto and, even more scary, a Gwen bloody Cooper.
"Put that down." Ianto snapped, looking irate as he glared at the man in front of him. He hadn't even flinched at having a gun aimed at his head, Owen thought sadly. Would've been nice revenge if he had at least scared him.
"Hi, Owehn." Gwen said, bursting into a fit of giggles as she leaned against Ianto. "Youh didn't neehd to get dress for meeeee."
Owen cocked an eyebrow at Ianto before lowering his gun, clicking on the safety. Then he tucked it in the back pocket of his jeans, just incase. Ianto looked as if he might try to grab it and shoot Gwen in the foot with it. Owen didn't blame him.
Ianto didn't bother to wait to be invited in, just shoved his way past Owen with Gwen in tow. Owen shrugged, before following them into his living room. He stayed a fair amount of distance away from Gwen, who was still giggling as she looked around the bright room before stumbling over to the window.
"Is she...?"
Ianto snorted. "What do you think?"
"She's either high or drunk. I'm voting drunk." Owen deadpanned. Lovely.
"She arrived on my door step telling me she loved me." Ianto said, clearly freaked out. Owen patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. "I think she and Rhys had a fight."
"Rhys," Gwen repeated from the window. "Who neehds Rhys? I've got Iaaannntoo." More giggling.
Ianto collapsed on the couch, burying his face in his hands with a groan. Instead of his usual fancy suit-and-tie garb, he was casually dressed in a T-shirt and tight-fitting jeans, with mussed hair and tired eyes. He was also wearing tennis shoes, Owen noted.
"Okay," Owen said wisely. "I know why you're here. And before you ask, yes you can borrow my couch for one night. But why didn't you just lock Gwen in your bathroom before you came over?"
Ianto lifted his head to glare at Owen. "Actually, I was assuming you'd take care of Gwen so I could go home and get some sleep."
"Why me?" Owen yelped.
"Because you slept with her, hence she's your responsibility!"
"Yeah," Owen said, not denying it. "But she's in love with you, pal. Tough luck, I know. She's a pain in the arse. But that's how the ball rolls."
"She is NOT in love with me." Ianto argued. "She is drunk, and she's looking for the nearest man who will take care of her. Since she's already been in your bed once already, she wants to shag me now."
Silence.
"Well!" Owen said cheerily. "Have a nice night then, Jones. Hopefully she's a better ride drunk than she is sober. Turn off the light when you leave."
Owen made a quick retreat towards the bedroom but Ianto was taller and faster, hence Owen only getting a few steps before Ianto grabbed the back of his shirt and tugged, hard. Owen stumbled and landed on the floor, yelping when he suddenly got a very painful reminder of the gun in his back pocket. Quickly he grabbed it and threw it, hard as he could, at Ianto. Ianto caught it before it could hit him, flipped it where he was holding the barrel, and handed it back to Owen with a smug smirk. Owen glared.
"Now nowh, boyss." Gwen said, misunderstanding the situation. "No neehd to fight over meee. There'sh enough to go aroouunnndd."
"Look here, sweetheart." Owen growled, scrambling to his feet. "I certainly don't want you, and from the looks of it neither does Tea Boy over there. The last thing I need is being woke up because you had a fight with your boyfriend - who, may I add, you cheated on and - oh, don't cry, please."
"Now you've done it." Ianto snapped, as Gwen started sobbing - loudly. Owen wouldn't be surprised if his landlord came knocking and telling him to get the bloody hell out. Then he felt guilty - not very much, as Gwen was arrogant and ignorant to them all for the past couple of weeks - but she had been trying. And maybe he had went a little too far with the whole cheating-on-Rhys business. Even if it was the truth.
Ianto, seeing that Gwen's sobbing wasn't ceasing, attempted to hug her. She cried into his chest, ruining his shirt. Ianto rested his chin on top of Gwen's head - the perfect position to glare at Owen with all his might.
"Oh, Gwen, I didn't mean it." Owen said.
Ianto's glare increased. Try harder.
"And, I, erm, well..." Owen tried to think of some way to make it up to her that wouldn't put him in a position to actually do it. "I'm, ah, sorry..."
Ianto sighed in agony, rolling his eyes towards the roof, but Gwen's shoulders stopped shaking.
"Buht it's trueh." Gwen sniffed. "I c-c-c-c-cheated on R-R...RHYS!" She howled, before launching into another series of sobbing.
Don't look at me like that, Ianto. Owen thought darkly.
Because you're totally innocent. Ianto's face said it all.
Yes, I am! It's not my fault she's unfaithful to her chubby boyfriend, now is it?
You were flirting with her ever since she walked through the door!
I flirt with everyone! It's not like she was special or anything!
Their silent conversation stopped abruptly when Gwen sank in Ianto's arms, and Ianto grabbed her before she could hit the floor. Gently, he lied her on the couch. Her eyes were closed, her body was completely limp.
"Must've passed out. Knew it was going to happen sooner or later." Owen mumbled, but checked for a pulse never the less.
"I bloody hate you, bloody Owen Harper!" Ianto snarled, rather loudly.
"Yes, well." Owen replied, thinking of what to do with Gwen. "That feeling is mutual, thank God."
Finally, with a suffering sigh, Owen picked Gwen up and motioned for Ianto to get the door. Ianto did so, a confused look on his face. But he followed Owen out the door.
"What are you doing with her? God help me, Owen, if you try to dump her anywhere..."
"Oh shut up, Jones. I'm going to take her back to her apartment, with or without your help."
"Why don't you just..." Ianto trailed off as his brain clicked. Gwen, seeing as how drunk she was, would most likely not remember the parts of her intoxication. If she woke up in Owen's flat - again - it would confuse and devastate her. She'd probably think that she had run off to shag Owen after Rhy's and her fight. However, if she woke up in her own bed...
"That's...thoughtful, of you." Ianto said finally. Owen didn't reply.
Ianto hurried to open the doors of Owen's car, and watched as Owen laid Gwen in the back seat with care, taking time to brush her bangs away from her face before straightening, a hard look on his face. Her whisked past Ianto and slammed the driver's side door. Ianto slid in beside him, glancing in the rear mirror. A short silence issued between them.
"You still love her, don't you?" Ianto asked quietly.
"I never was in love with her." Owen snapped.
"But while it lasted I thought..." Owen sighed. "I thought that everything in my life that was screwed would go away. If I could pretend that I had nothing outside of Torchwood, nothing outside of Gwen, I would be okay. I would forget Katie if I had Gwen. That's how it had already been with every other women and that's how it was for Gwen."
"That's selfish." Ianto commented, glancing in the back seat to make sure Gwen hadn't awoken to hear this heartfelt confession. She hadn't.
Owen snorted. "And you're not selfish at all, Jones. Right."
"What do you mean?" Ianto snapped, irate with his team-mate once more.
"You hid your girlfriend in our basement. And don't tell me that was for her, because if it had been, you would've killed her mercifully instead of letting her turn into a murderer." Owen said, when Ianto opened his mouth to reply. "Then you start sleeping with Jack, who did have the balls to kill her. After you swear to watch him suffer and die, when he was only trying to help you."
"How," Ianto said, "Did Jack help me? I find that hard to believe."
Owen looked at him for a long moment, before he turned his attention to the road.
"Let's see...he gave you a choice that you could be the one to do the mercy killing because he bloody loved you, you arse. It wasn't any secret that he liked you the best out of all of us. He continued to worship the ground you walked on, even when you lied blatantly to his face every day, you betrayed him, you nearly killed us all. You chose her over him and it nearly killed him.
"Then he had to kill her in front of you. Then he watched you mourn over her. Then he had to put up with you complaining about how your last shag was Lisa, how you missed her, blah blah blah. Then you turned on him again and chose me over him. Then you stand by and let me shoot him. God almighty, Ianto, I'm surprised he didn't shoot your arse after all that."
Ianto was silent. Owen, he admitted grudgingly, was right on everything. And yet Ianto still couldn't stop himself from hating Jack for leaving, but wanting him back nonetheless. Was that selfish?
Yes.
"Don't dwell on it, Jones." Owen said briskly, before opening his door and Ianto realised they were at Gwen's flat.
Ianto followed him and opened Gwen's door. Owen picked her up, the same gentleness as before, and marched towards the flat.
"How are we going to get in?" Ianto asked.
"Through the window." Owen said sarcastically. "Come on Jones, wake up. There's a door for a reason."
"What if it's locked?" Ianto snapped, tired of Owen's attitude.
"It's not."
It was.
"Okay, Doctor Owen Harper, what are we going to do now?" Ianto asked smugly when Owen couldn't get the door knob to turn. Owen took a moment to turn and glare at the man before turning back to the door and studying it intensely. "An alien artifact would be useful right about now," He grumbled. "What's their use if we can't even use the damned things?"
Owen, not discouraged, motioned for Ianto to take Gwen. Hesitantly, Ianto accepted her and tried to arrange it where she wasn't going to fall, but where he was touching her as little as possible. She reeked of alcohol.
"You're going to break and enter?" Ianto said, incredulous.
"Yes. Want to help me with it, Oh Experienced One?"
Ianto didn't bother answering, but instead watched as Owen pulled something from his pocket and inserted it into the key hole but it was too dark to see what it was. The door opened after a few minutes, and Owen took Gwen back into his arms before stepping into the flat. Ianto followed, feeling sneaky that they were doing this.
"Who the bloody hell are you?"
Owen and Ianto whirled to face Rhys, who was standing in the bedroom door with a baseball bat in hand. And then he saw Gwen, limp and motionless in Owen's arms. He dropped the bat.
"What happened to her?" Rhys demanded.
"Now now," Owen started hastily, "I want you to know that I had nothing to do with this and this is all Gwen's bloody fault -"
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Bloody hell," Owen moaned, opening his eyes. His view was blurry, mostly due to the constant pounding in his head. Gingerly he put his hand to his head, shifting on the couch - couch? - under him.
"Try not to move much, you'll only hurt worse." Said a familiar voice.
"Where am I?" Owen moaned again, closing his eyes to block out the pain.
"My flat," Ianto said bluntly, moving into view.
That explained the couch, Owen thought, opening his eyes. He blinked.
Ianto's flat was not what he expected. Instead of a clean, vacuumed floor, it was actually faded and looked in need of a desperate wash. Shirts and ties were strewn across the chairs, couches, and armchairs throughout the room. Coffee mugs littered the coffee table, which was incredibly dusty. Broken glass and shattered beer bottles were strewn in a corner, as if some one had a breakdown and started randomly throwing things. There were no picture frames, as Owen had imagined there'd be. No signs of Torchwood, no signs of Jack or Lisa or any other past lovers that Ianto may have had.
The flat was dark due to dark purple curtains drawn over the windows. These, too, were full of dust.
"Not what you expected." It was a blunt statement more than a question, so Owen said nothing.
"Shocking, isn't it?" Ianto continued, casually. He set a mug of steaming coffee down on the table beside Owen. "Neat-freak Ianto Jones, Cleaner Upper Of Everyone's Shit, General Support of Torchwood. Turns out I'm not the illusion that everyone thinks, how bloody shocking is that?"
"I'm not here to fight with you or to discuss your house-cleaning habits." Owen snarled.
"Exactly. You're here because you ran your mouth, pissed off Rhys, and then got the shit knocked out of you. That is why you're here."
"Piss off." Owen groaned, but reached for the mug of coffee anyway. Ianto smirked.
"How is Gwen?" Owen asked after a moment, setting the mug back down with a wince. Ianto frowned, debating whether it was because of Owen's pain or the taste of the coffee.
"I wouldn't know." Ianto said finally. "She was still unconscious when Rhys carried her off to the bedroom. I'd imagine she's having quite the hangover this morning."
Owen smiled. "Revenge!" He deadpanned, and then groaned a minute later as another wave of pain washed over him. Ianto watched him, his face blank of emotion as he watched Owen swear under his breath. Ianto reached up and ran a hand through his unruly hair, sighing. Why was he doing this for Owen? After all of the things that twat had done to him, all of the names and the smirks when he knew he hit a nerve, and here Ianto was, caring for him. He could have just dragged him back to his apartment, dumped him on the floor, and got back to Ianto's own business. But he didn't.
Ianto sighed, wondering if something had screwed up his brain while he was sleeping or something. "Get up and go take a shower. You can borrow some clothes and then we'll head over to Torchwood. Tosh is probably wondering what the bloody hell everyone is doing." He said briskly, before heading off into the direction of, Owen assumed, his room. Owen lay there for a moment, staring blankly at the ceiling, before he sighed and slowly swung his legs over the side of the couch. He swore when the room blurred briefly, before another searing pain went through his forehead. Faintly, he heard a chuckle. Owen scowled.
Owen stood, ignoring the pain and the dizziness. He never knew that Rhys could pack such a punch.
