"Rhys, be serious," Gwen said impatiently, reaching around him to grab a pepper as he was cutting and nibbling. She was starving! She felt like they had been going non-stop for ages now. Jack had sent her home, saying one of them ought to have a night off. She had protested, but the look on his face brooked no arguments. She had called Rhys as she left, promising that this time she would be home in time for dinner. She tried not to think of all of the other times she had said those words, only to have to break her promise as something came up before she even reached home.

When she arrived home, it was to find him in the throes of cooking. The smells that had wafted through the door as she had entered their flat smelled heavenly. She tried to remember when the last time it was that they had sat down for a meal together and her mind drew a blank.

"I am being serious love," he said, keeping his back to her. He slapped her fingers away from the cutting board. "Stop that or I'll have nothing to cook with, woman." He was determined to have this conversation. Cutting the vegetables allowed him to pour his frustration out on the food, and not her. He promised himself that this time he would keep his temper and that they would have this conversation. Finally.

Gwen leaned back against the counter, watching him work. "I'm sorry, Rhys. Please continue." They were going to argue again, she just knew it. And she had a feeling that this time she wasn't going to be able to distract him.

"When was the last time we sat down and had a real meal together?" He asked, glancing out of the corner of his eye at her. He scooped up the vegetables and added it to the wok, the oil sizzling. He added in some soy sauce and started stirring, mixing it in with the chicken that he had cooked before she got home. "When was the last time we spent a night sitting in front of the telly? Out with friends? When was the last time you saw the girls? Well?" He paused and looked at her. She had her mouth open to answer him but said nothing. "Can you tell me a day recently when you didn't come home after midnight?"

"Rhys, you know how it's been," she said, feeling absolutely wretched when she thought back to the last time she had done any of that. She honestly couldn't remember. For weeks now her life had been a constant blur of work that she almost didn't know what it was like to relax anymore.

"Yeah, I have," he said grimly, turning his attention back to his cooking. "That's the problem. Gwen, I swear I see less of you now than before we were married." He sighed. "Get the dishes, please?"

He heard her moving behind him and tried not to react when he heard her sniffle. He wasn't going to give in this time. He had to make her see how all of this was getting between them. She put the plates on the counter next to him and he quickly dished the stir fry onto each one, adding some rice from another pot. "Let's go sit down."

They each grabbed a plate and went to the table. Sitting down, he looked at her searchingly. She kept her eyes down as she pushed the food around on her plate with her fork. "Eat," he said, taking a bite, but not really tasting it. They ate in an uncomfortable silence for several moments as he waited to see if she was going to respond. When she didn't he put down his fork and reached for her hand.

"Listen love, I know that it's been hard for you," he said, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. "And I'm not asking you to quit." He had tried that before, and knew that it would be a mistake to try again. She had had all sorts of arguments about the consequences of her not working at Torchwood and what would happen to innocent people if she didn't. He also had been unable to argue that even if she weren't with Torchwood, they would still get caught up in some of the more sweeping events that occurred. Short of moving out of Cardiff, it was inevitable that they would be a part of some of the odd occurrences which happened. At least this way she was in a position to do something and to help. He still wasn't happy that she had turned down the opportunity to return to the police department. After the disaster, they had been desperate to have her come back and take charge. She had turned them down, opting to remain with Torchwood.

"But please think about us. Think about making time for us," he pleaded softly. She looked up at him, eyes filled with tears. "I'm not asking for much, but just to have you home at a decent hour occasionally. Love, please don't cry."

"I'm sorry," she said, looking down again, a tear rolling down one cheek. "And you're right. I get so caught up on things sometimes that I just lose track. I really don't mean to do it."

"I know you don't, sweetheart. But can please make and effort? For me?" He asked. She nodded and he squeezed her hand. "That's all I ask. Now stop the waterworks because you're going make your dinner soggy." He reached across the table and wiped the tears from her cheek. Closing her eyes, she rested her face against the palm of his hand. "Eat," he urged her.

She picked her fork back up and started to eat. Rhys changed the subject, telling her some funny stories about what was going on with the boys. He had made his point. He just hoped it made a difference….