A/N- Yes, you have read it right, another update! So soon, I hear you ask- its not been six month yet! I know! Are you impressed? I'm kinda on a writing binge at the minute, it's very fun. Please let me know what you think (as always). Good, bad, I really don't care as long as it's constructive. Thanks again to my lovely beta amy.j for looking over this (twice). Onwards!

Owen was sitting in the staff room, staring at his damn thing wouldn't ring. It had been seventeen hours since he last saw her, and he was growing increasingly staff room was the same as ever, with it's peeling flowery wall paper, over-stuffed armchairs and the black patch on the wall where Stacey had thrown the pan after her less than amicable split from her boyfriend. The ancient kettle, as always, had taken 5 minutes to boil, and there was the usual collection of dirty mugs cluttered around the sink. For a hospital Staff Room, it was pretty disgusting. However, Owen noticed none of the usual clutter, only his phone's inability to ring.

"Dude, just ring her." Adrian said, leaning against the dirty counter and draining his can of coke.

"How did you know?" Owen said, shocked because he hadn't realized anyone else was in the room.

"I know you, Owen Harper. You've been staring at that phone for 10 minutes solid, and you ran out of this place with the girl from the supermarket accident just last night."

"But how long are you supposed to leave it before you ring after a first date?" Owen asked, a puzzled look on his face.

"Well, it depends on what message you want to put across. Under six hours says desperate, the morning after says 'I want to get into your pants as soon as possible', and the afternoon of the next day says 'I'm really into you and want to see you again'. Two days later says 'I just went out with you because I had nothing planned and it was better that staying in and watching Ugly Betty, but I'm not interested in taking this further', and not phoning at all just says that you're a **." Adrian reeled of in a matter-of-fact tone, chucking his can in the general direction of the over-flowing bin and missing by a mile.

Owen stared at him open-mouthed. "How the hell do you know this stuff?"

"Dude, I'm gay, girls just expect me to have some sort of superior knowledge of men and the way their brains work, so they tell me everything in the most intimate detail. And I know how they think. Like, if you send flowers, you have to send the right ones, because they're a clear indication if you're interested or not. For instance if you send Coronations, you're most definitely not interested, because they're funeral flowers."

Owen was still catching flies. "You should write a book." He said after the couple of seconds it took him to recover.

"So, you are in the 'I'm really interested in you and want to see you again' zone right about now." Adrian said, pointedly ignoring the nurse who came in to tell him that his break was over five minutes ago. "So call her."

"But what do I say?"

"Whatever comes naturally. Ask her out for drinks if you're really stuck." Adrian had picked up Owen's phone, and was scrolling through his contact list. "It's ringing." he said, passing it back to him. The nurse stormed out in a huff fed up of being ignored, it was a usual occurrence .

"How did you know who it was?" Owen asked. I hate him sometimes.

"News travels fast in this place. Now put her on speakerphone."

"Hello?" She sounded hesitant as she answered after the fourth ring.

"Oh, hey, it's Owen. How are you feeling?"

"A lot better, thanks. Those painkillers work a treat." Her shy tone was replaced with a cheery voice that instantly eased Owen's nerves.

"Great. I was just wondering if you fancied coming for a drink with me tonight?" Owen looked at Adrian for confirmation, and he nodded his approval.

Great, so he doesn't think I'm easy. Thank God for that. "Yeah, I've not got anything planned, where were you thinking?"

"Erm…" Owen looked at Adrian wide-eyed . He grabbed a pen from the table and scribbled 'The Emerald' quickly on a post-it note with a mug-ring on it. "How about The Emerald at around eight?" Adrian gave him a thumbs up.

"Sounds good to me. See you at eight."

"Brilliant, bye."

"Bye." Owen breathed a sigh of relief.

"See? It wasn't that hard, was it? Now you've got yourself a second date and given off the right messages. Not bad for a minutes work."

"Thanks mate. You really should think about that book, you'd make millions. Every man would buy it."

"No problem. But you have to name your first child together after me as thanks." Adrian said with a grin as he eventually left the staff room and swaggered back to the ward with a nonchalance that Owen always envied.

……

At exactly five to eight, Tosh entered The Emerald, scanning the bar for Owen. She found him, and sauntered over. The Emerald was one of the newest bars to open in Cardiff, and was quickly getting a reputation of being 'the' place to be. With a chilled out atmosphere, music playing softly in the background, and leather sofas that threatened to eat you as soon as you sat on them, it was the perfect place for a second date without looking too try-hard. She was dressed to the nines, in a little black dress that came to just past mid thigh, killer heels and purple accessories.

Good God, she's beautiful. Owen had also dressed for the occasion, in dark blue jeans that hugged his **, and a white t-shirt with a shirt open over the top. Tosh greeted him with a chaste kiss, and sat down on a bar stool.

Oh, he smells gorgeous.

"So, what are you drinking?" He figured it was the easiest conversation starter, and upon seeing her small smile his hands stopped some of the annoying trembling.

"Vodka and coke please."

……

Eight rounds later, and Tosh was **. Owen, however, seemed relatively sober. She was leaning against his shoulder, drooling slightly.

"You know..." Tosh lifted her head slightly to look Owen in the eye. "You have really toned arms. Is that from the gym? Do you do weights? Because you know, lifting weights is how you get toned arms."

"No, its from lifting… what do you call 'em? Patients… lifting patients."

"Oh. So you don't go to the gym? But your arms are so toned. You have to lift weights to get toned arms."

She's such an adorable drunk. Owen wasn't even aware that adorable was apart of vocabulary until he saw the way her eyes lit up as she talked. He was well and truly screwed.

"You, my lovely, are **." Owen said, tapping her nose with the tip of her straw.

"No, I'm just tipsy. I haven't had that much, just one or two. Did I mention you have really toned arms." Owen laughed.

"Come on, home." He dragged her to her feet, and grabbed his coat. As soon as he let go of her to put it on, she fell into a giggling heap on the floor.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Ooh, a hairclip!"

"Up, we need to go home."

……

"Arghhhhhhh…" Tosh groaned. The sheets were silk and black - definitely not the sheets that Tosh was used to. It was way too bright for it to be her bedroom, the blackout curtains had been closed before she left, and above all, it smelt different. Like toast and aftershave. Tosh cracked an eye open, and saw the white washed walls, the cream carpet and the mismatched furniture that was scattered around the place. She rubbed an eye, and felt the glitter eye shadow smear across her face along with mascara. She moaned again, and pressed her head to Owen's chest to feel it vibrate underneath her as he chuckled.

"Sore head?"

"How can you be this cheerful? My head feels like it got trampled on my a heard of over excited elephants and my throat feels like it has had ten broken bottles of Bud shoved down it."

"Stay here." The bed sank and rose again as Owen got up and moved around.

Oh my God, I'm never drinking this much again. Ever. How many did weactually have last night? What actually happened? We met at the bar, had acouple of drinks… well, more than a couple… did I fall over at one point?Oh God, this is so embarrassing. How did we even get home? I can't remember.

Owen came back with two coffee's, a pint of water and painkillers. He handed her the water and slipped back under the duvet. "Drink this and then you can have the coffee."

She did as she was told, and took the painkillers with it. She rested her head on his chest again as she waited for them to kick in.

"What happened?"

"How much do you remember?"

"It goes hazy after the fourth round."

"We talked, you said that I had toned arms about five times, and when we came to go home you downed the rest of your drink and fell over when I let go of you. You found a hairclip that I think you will find located somewhere in your hair." Tosh rooted around in the bird's nest that had replaced her hair and found the slide.

"Did we have sex?"Oh god, please say we didn't 'cause I can't remember a thing.

"Call me a gentleman but I'm not the type to shag a girl that's unconscious."

"Unconscious? What?""You passed out in the back of the taxi. I had to carry you upstairs. You were going to go back to yours but when you passed out I brought you back to my place. Which is why we're in my bed."

"Ah. That would explain it. Oh God, I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it, I was more than halfway down the road to ** myself."

"But you didn't pass out. Actually, you seemed quite sober."

"I drink a lot more than you, and have about 3 stone on you and at least 4 inches in height."

"Good point."

"So, what do you want to do today? I have the weekend off, what about you?"

"Mmm. Can we just sleep?"

"It'll just make you feel worse. Right, as your doctor I prescribe a walk, but first you're going to have a shower while I do us a fry up."

"Ow, but that involves moving."

"Indeed it does, but my fry-ups are legendary. Now move. Feel free to help yourself to anything in the bathroom."

"I'm not going for a walk in high heels, so we're going back to my flat first."

"Fine, but if you don't move then you won't get to experience my world renowned fry up. So go."

With a lot of grumbling, Tosh did eventually move. She walked slowly to the door with the wrought iron 'Bathroom' sign hanging on it and flicked the light switch. She glanced around, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror above the sink. Her face was covered with smeared make up, her eyes bloodshot and half their usual size. They were glued together with a mixture of sleep and eyeliner that had gone sticky. Her hair was sticking up in every direction on one side, flat on the other from where she had slept on it. Overall, it wasn't the ideal state to be looking in in front of your new boyfriend. She rooted around in the cabinet above the toilet and found a bottle of baby oil and some moisturiser, and took some toilet roll to get her make up off with. She looked and felt slightly more human when she had finished, and decided togo in the shower. She stripped off her underwear (Owen had obviously stripped her the night before. Oh well, he was a doctor, he'd seem it millions of times before and she wasn't exactly body conscious) and climbed into the bath that could easily fit three people in it. The spray was fierce against her skin for a moment, until it relaxed her, and she grabbed the shampoo off the shelf to massage into the bird's nest that her hair had become.

Once Owen had put the bacon and eggs on, he popped into the bathroom and put a new toothbrush on the side for her out of the cabinet, smiling at her singing 'I'm going to wash that man right out of my hair' under her breath.