P2
COFFEE LIKE IT SHOULD BE

GARETH/Ianto:
His head still ached and he felt irritable for the next few days, prone to snapping at people and mood swings. He felt like he had no friends, no past because he couldn't remember this thing, this itch! Screaming to get out but it was on mute. And it was all that guys fault.

OWEN
It was another three days before Owen ran into Ianto again.but the kid hadn't left his thoughts for long and the girls had started to notice a change in his behaviour, teasing him about "who 'she' was'. Well he could hardly say 'he's six foot two, twenty-one, and our ex-co-worker'; so he said nothing. And now he was so desperate to escape from under the watchful eyes of Tosh and Gwen that he had volunteered - fucking volunteered - to go down to Starbucks to get the mid-morning coffees in.

Half an hour later he finally got to the front of the cue and found that Ianto, or should he say Gareth?, was serving him.

"Can I help you, sir?" Gareth/Ianto asked him stiffly. Owen wanted to laugh out loud at the irony of it - a few weeks ago Owen was the last person Ianto would ever have called 'sir' even when he had regressed making the age gap between them twelve years instead of six. Looking at him now made Owen feel old and even more dirty. He had to hide a bitter smile.

"Two coffees; one with cream no sugar, one with milk and three sugars. One cappuccino soya no milk one sugar. To go.. And drop the 'sir', ta." Owen ordered curtly.

Some emotion flickered into Ianto's eyes but disappeared before Owen could identify it. "Sorry, never did catch your name." he muttered before speaking louder. "Small, large, or... average?" Ianto asked and Owen wanted to smile. The old Ianto was still in there somewhere - the heavy innuendo threaded through the most innocent of sentences, and, of course, the carefully directed insult in Owen's direction.

"Better make it three larges. It looks like it'll be an all nighter."

"Think you'll need more than a large coffee for that. Or is yours the cappuccino?" Ianto said with a quirk of a delicate eyebrow.

Owen got annoyed at this very quickly. Sarcastic-witty-dry Ianto caffeine depleted Owen punching. It was this which made Owen remember why they'd never gotten along in the first place. Obviously the cure was to either fill Ianto up with alcohol or for them to separate, but that made Owen feel like a child sent to the corner for bad behaviour when really it was the other kid (Ianto)'s fault all along. He stayed - partially to spite Ianto, partially to spite the little voice in his head, and partially because he really did need some coffee and he'd slept with half the employees of Costa and therefore could never go back in there without being slapped or having his coffee spat in.

"And you trying to imply something?" Owen asked, chucking some cash onto the counter as Ianto filled the drinks.

"Subtlety not your strong point." he stated dryly, then added, "you're short."

"You're trying to imply I'm short?" Owen asked confused. Ianto rolled his eyes.

"You're short two quid." he gestured towards the money.

Owen smiled sarcastically and pulled out a fiver. "Keep the change. You'll need it if you're going to pay off your university fees working here."

"How do you know I was at uni?" Ianto asked sharply causing Owen to freeze.

"That was your lot celebrating your graduation at the pub, wasn't it?"

"Yeah." Ianto agrees uncertainly and Owen felt his eyes burning a whole in his back as he left the coffee shop drinks in his hands. As soon as he turned the corner he popped the lid of his coffee cup and inhaled deeply before taking a gulp. It scorched his throat but Owen didn't care - it tasted exactly like coffee should, like Ianto's coffee. He closed his eyes tightly against the threat of tears, telling himself it was only due to the scald but he knew he was lying. Sighing he pulled himself together starting down the street towards the hub muttering "stop being such a fucking woman, Owen you twat."