A/N: Hello lovely readers! This is the same message that I posted at the beginning of the latest ch. of A Captain and a Gentlemen, but I though I'd better post it here as well for those of you who aren't reading both of my stories: Right well, I have warned some of you about this already, but never the less, I am very sorry to announce that I am going to have to cut down on my posting for a while… Unfortunately for most students in Britain, winter brings with it January exams and with January exams comes revision. And, as much as I would rather be writing this than revising for Chemistry or Biology, this is my last year before University and I need to try and manage my revision time responsibly so that I don't fall at the last hurdle so to speak. So basically, I will only be posting one ch. of each of my two stories per week (A Captain and Gentleman on Sundays and Ianto Jones's Diary on Mondays) and if I get any spare time potentially a few bonus chs here and there. I will begin my normally posting pattern IMMEDIATELY after my last exam I promise, after two months of restricting my writing time nothing will be able to hold me back. I hope you don't all lose interest during this time, please don't hate me! Also, sorry if this ch. seems a little depressing in parts... Hannah xxx
The atmosphere at work today so far has been rather strange; the air has been filled with, well, not exactly a tension, but a great sense that there is a lot being left unspoken between the six of us here in the hub. Nobody is quite sure of how to approach Owen about anything, whether to mention what's happened or not, whether we should pretend like the shooting never occurred. And nobody wants to ask him what he wants either. He's very fragile at the moment, in more than just the literal sense, in an emotional sense too, not that he would admit to it of course. He's trying to keep a semi-normal front, but he just hasn't got the same enthusiasm for sarcasm or banterfull insults as he usually does, not quite the same 'cocky' yet lovable attitude.
Jack's currently suspended him from duty until he figures out what's best to do about the whole situation, after all it's not exactly something we've encountered before, but for today at least Owen has come into the hub as usual and is just 'hanging' around. Martha's temporarily in charge of all medical affairs, taking over Owen's duties in his absence. We all like Martha, we like her a lot, but it's just not the same. I know that she isn't trying to replace Owen - I mean she can't, at least not yet as he is only on suspension - but it just doesn't feel right having someone other than Owen milling around the autopsy bay. It's certainly seems to be making Owen uncomfortable, seeing someone carry out his tasks. I bet he feels, quite frankly, like shit. As I've said, we will never be able to replace that man – but I bet that's not what he's thinking right now. It's the most terrible feeling to think that you could so easily be replaced, that things would just carry on in your absence as if nothing had ever changed.
And, speaking of Martha, Owen's right she has been treating him differently since this whole 'dead-undead' tragedy. Fiancée or no fiancée, she was definitely flirting with him just a little as they worked together on the reset drug case. But now, she's almost a little cold with him, she's certainly more distant with him than she was previously and not exactly unfriendly towards him, but not exactly open and friendly either. Not that I blame her of course, I guess to a certain extent, we've all been treating him differently over these last two (three? – time seems to have become irrelevant amongst all of this) days to a certain extent.
Take Gwen for example, Owen and she have always had a very… 'love/hate' relationship, but they have always been close, always managed to have a laugh with each other. Things were awkward for a little while after their affair sort of collapsed in on its self, but all of this damage was repaired somewhat in Jack's absence – when we had to pull closer together. I was worried this alliance may unravel again upon her engagement with Rhys, but it didn't, they continued in the same argumentative but light hearted fashion. Since Owen's 'death' however, she hasn't been able to hold eye contact with him for more than a few seconds. She can't laugh along with any of his vague attempts at humour, at re-injecting normality, anymore. She keeps flinching if he touches her arm, or her shoulders, or hands; even though these were quite normal exchanges. She just can't see past the fact that he is essentially a dead man walking.
Then there's Jack, the man faced with immortality in the presence of the man whose life is already over. He feels too much guilt to treat Owen normally. He believes Owen's death was his fault because he put him in danger like he puts 'all of us in danger on a daily basis', he knows that Owen's 'undeath' is his responsibility as he was the one to use the glove and bring him back. He, like Gwen, cannot quite meet his eyes. Jack's been fairly swamped this morning so far, he's been tied up in his office with yet another phone call from UNIT (honestly for an organisation that claim to hate us so much, they don't half rely on Jack), this time regarding a rogue ATMOS system which wasn't fully deactivated. But I can't help but wonder if he stretched out the phone call, so as to avoid Owen…
Tosh, well I suppose Tosh hasn't really been treating him much differently to how she usually would if I'm honest. She has been just as nervous and bashful around him as ever, but this could be because she still has feelings for him and is embarrassed about confessing her love and the kiss they shared briefly… or it could be because she doesn't know what to say to him anymore, she's getting flustered in his presence because she's not sure if she can see him in the same way anymore. I still haven't spoken to her properly yet about her feelings on everything, there just hasn't been the time. I'll try and make time today thought; maybe I'll actually exercise my entitled one hour lunch break and take her out to a café or something? After all, she could use a bit of a treat, and Jack can hardly protest against us taking a full lunch hour as a) we never take longer than twenty minutes in which to grab a quick bite, and b) because he'll probably still be on the phone with UNIT come lunchtime.
So, I suppose that brings us around to me. I have genuinely been trying to act normally around Owen, trying with all my might. I know it's what's best for him, and for all of us, to try and slip back into our routine and regain a vague sense of normality. But blimey it's been difficult. I already made a blunder just this morning by pouring Owen out a cappuccino (his favourite) in the obscene mug I bought him last Christmas, along with the other's morning coffees. Upon realising my error, I tipped it hastily down the sink and placed the mug in the dishwasher out of sight, but I wasn't quite quick enough, and he saw everything. I felt my cheeks turn a shade of red as I flashed him an apologetic and embarrassed smile. He just shook his head and waved his hand as if to say 'don't sweat it mate', but I could see it in his eyes, the sorrow as he realised he had already had his last ever coffee, his last ever slice of pizza, his last ever afternoon nap… I've tried to keep up our little relationship of bouncing meaningless insults off of one another, but it's so hard not to feel terrible about insulting a dead man. I'm struggling, but I'm trying. I never thought I'd say this, but all I really want right now, is for him to call me 'teaboy' with that irritating as hell, smug grin on his face.
Well someone out there's listening, about twenty minutes after writing that Owen called me just that.
"Oi Ganymede, Jove wants you in his office" He yelled out into the hub, sounding slightly sarcastic. "Teaboy, I've got no idea what the bloody hell Jack's on, but I presume he wants you" He finished, equally sarcastic. His tone might have been reassuring if it wasn't for the fact I was too busy dying of embarrassment to be reassured by anything.
As soon as he had said the word 'Ganymede' I knew he was going to be addressing yours truly… I groaned inwardly at having taken English Literature at A-Level, of having studied 'As You Like it' and knowing full well who Jove and Ganymede were and why Jack was using those terms. Jove was the King of the Gods and Ganymede was the incredibly beautiful young man who was taken to Olympus as his cup-bearer and lover. He'd referenced the myth a few weeks back actually, when saying that I was his:
"Sex slave for life, like Ganymede to Jove".
To which remark I contested, naturally, after all 'slave' implies that I am being forced into it. I'm not suggesting for one moment that I believe I am strikingly beautiful as Ganymede was supposed to be, or even suggesting that Jack thinks I am, I rather think that he said it as a 'thumbs up' to his ever increasing ego and sense of a God complex. I mean, come on Jack, we all know you're gorgeous and charming and intelligent and strong, but honestly, King of the Gods? I suppose he is immortal after all…
But anyway, back to where I was. I was silently dying of shame at my desk, not quite believing that he had just asked Owen to that message out across the hub. I chanced a quick look around, expecting to see the others laughing or at least smiling to themselves a little, but they all seemed absorbed and busy with their relevant tasks. Maybe none of them knew who Jove and Ganymede were; after all, it's quite an obscure fact to know. That's what I'm hoping anyway, because that way even if they think Jack and I have some extremely unusual pet names going on, at least they won't think I am his 'sex slave'.
I went up to his office as he wished, and found him now off the phone, and leaning back in his chair, hands behind his head and a satisfied grin spread across his face. I raised an eyebrow upon entering.
"What!" He exclaimed, knowing full well what.
"You called, Jove" I added dryly.
"I knew you'd like it" He winked, still smiling.
"There's nothing like a little bit of humiliation to break up the day, but at least you've let everyone know your place on Earth Jack, or should I call you King of the Gods?" I replied, slightly sarcastic, but smiling back. I don't know what it is about Jack's smile but, even in situations when you are trying to be a little bit irritated with him, you just can't help but return it.
"In those beautiful vowels, you could call me Marjory and I probably wouldn't mind. But anyway, I didn't say it because I thought I would embarrass you, or because I wanted to boost my own ego. I simply wanted to shout out to the world about how hot you are." He shrugged, seeming genuine at least. My cheeks burned marginally as a response which was, I think, his desired response.
"Anyway… now that I've got you here, I was wondering if you wanted to 'grab some lunch' with me?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"Ah, actually I was wondering if you'd mind if I took Tosh out for lunch today, I think she could really do with an opportunity to talk a little about this whole Owen thing" I replied, smiling inwardly slightly as a disappointed expression came over his face for a second.
He recomposed himself to say: "Of course that's ok, as long as you aren't getting lunch with her in the same way that you would be with me… then that's fine" He smiled "You're right, she could us someone to talk to, and a break from work"
I nodded and heading back down the stairs into the hub once more, to ask Tosh if she would like to accompany me to the finest cafe located in the Cardiff bay area. She agreed, gladly.
We walked in a rather uncomfortable silence to 'Roy's Bakery and Sandwich Shop' a little café just a few streets away, it was bitterly cold outside, and the harsh winds did nothing to lighten the mood. We sat down and placed our orders (two coffees, a tuna melt for me and a ciabatta pizza for Tosh) before getting down to business.
"So" I began, somewhat awkwardly.
"So…?" She questioned, even though it was obvious what we had come here to talk about.
"How are things with you and Owen?" I asked, simply coming out with it.
"Well, that depends, what do you mean by things…?" She asked.
"Tosh" I sighed, knowing exactly why she was deflecting my attempts to get her to talk, because she wasn't entirely sure how she felt, and didn't know what she might come out with once she began speaking. "Let's not play games shall we" I finished in a mock condescending tone which coaxed a small giggle out of her.
"I'm worried that… that you'll judge me" She admitted, nibbling her lip.
"Judge you? Tosh I'm dating a man who is over a Century old and who cannot die, how on earth could I judge you?" We were interrupted briefly then by a polite young waitress bringing over our lunches, I hope she didn't catch that comment, or if she did assumed I was joking…
She giggled slightly again. "Dating him now are we?" I flushed bright fuchsia in response, bugger that was a bit of a slip up. I hadn't meant to say that… I hadn't even noticed that I had said it if I'm honest, it just came out so naturally. We were dating, we had been on dates. But did that mean we're 'dating' as in going out with each other, officially? Who knows…
I swallowed, recovering slightly, to say: "We didn't come here to talk about me" and to offer up a small, encouraging smile.
She sighed slightly for a second, before exploding into a massive explanation of her feelings, finally managing to let out everything she had been thinking about over the past couple of days. She still loved Owen, no matter what has happened to him. She was worried for a little while after his resurrection that she wouldn't be able to view him in the same light anymore, but as they were about to inject him with the formaldehyde, paralysing him forever she realised something. That whether he's living or undead, whether he is breathing with blood flowing through his veins or whether he is cold as ice – she would always love him. Because he's Owen, his character and appearance, and his likes and dislikes, and his little quirks and charms haven't changed; why should her feelings about him changed?
She was worried that I, well that all of us, would judge her for still having such emotions towards an undead man. I reminded her that this was Torchwood, we were used to dealing with the unusual, and besides that, the undead man in question was our good friend. That seemed to reassure her a little.
But her main concern was that Owen didn't believe her, didn't seem to understand that when she had confessed her love to him at what she thought was his death bed, she had meant it. And now that he is in his current state, she certainly can't get him to understand. She says she's tried bringing it up, but every time he just brushes her off.
I wasn't one hundred percent sure of what to tell her to make her feel better (though I think just expelling some of this pent up emotion had helped with that a little) or to help her with what to do about it all. So I just told her honestly, that what's happened to Owen must be an unbelievably hard thing for him to get his head around, after all we are all struggling with it. It just probably hasn't hit home for him yet, and that he'll need time to think things over for himself before he can take in properly what he's trying to tell her. I think it seemed to work as, after settling the bill (I tried to pay, but she wasn't having it – we went Dutch in the end), she gave me a large and welcoming hug, along with a kiss on the cheek.
We walked back to the hub in a much more comfortable silence than we did on the way here; even the weather seemed to have improved slightly, it was still cold, but the sun was now shining which prevented it from being bitterly so.
Upon entering the hub I noticed Owen looking slightly lost and out of placed, just slumped on the sofa, staring out with a forlorn expression on his face. I think Tosh noticed too but she just settled back busily into encoding the programming she had been working on before we had headed off for lunch; I guess she's decided him to give him some space to think. I on the other hand, decided that with fifteen minutes of my lunch break left that I would go and speak to him about Tosh, and about how he was in general if I could get him to talk about that.
"Hey, I was wondering if we could talk" I said smiling.
He seemed to slip out of his unhappy thoughts for a second in order to quip back "Just as long as you don't want to ask if you can bear my cups". Damn it, he'd looked up Jove and Ganymede on the internet. "You and Jack are just weird" He laughed to himself, but it wasn't his normal arrogant and happy laugh, it was tainted.
I tried to keep my cool. "You can talk" I teased back, feeling guilty for it but knowing that kind of banter was what he wanted. "But seriously though…I wanted to talk with you about Tosh" I proposed, nervously awaiting his response.
He sighed, no doubt anticipating what I had to say. "Look Ianto, it's all very wel…"
I cut him off. "No Owen, you look. Tosh doesn't care about…. About what's happened, she still sees you as the same Owen that you were – the same Owen that you are and always will be to her and to us. She truly meant what she told you Owen, she's loved you for a very long time now but you could just never quite see it. I know that before all of this the two of you had a date planned, and I'm certain that if you meant it when you asked her out and still mean it now, then she would be more than happy to keep to that promise."
He seemed to pause for a minute before replying. "I know" he said in a soft whisper. "I know that she would be, and that's exactly why I've been letting her believe that I though she only told me she loved me because I was dying, why I've been acting as if I'm not interested in what she has to say about it. Because, how can I let her carry on loving me? A dead man, a man who has lived his life and for all we know may drop down at any second. It was bad enough when I was alive and knew she was in love with me, yet continued to act like such a wanker – flirting with other girls, and that affair with Gwen. I realised all too late that there has been this wonderful, incredible girl right under my nose the whole time. I can't be selfish now and indulge in the fact that I know she would still go out with me, because it isn't fair to her. She deserves to find a nice normal bloke, not some weirdo like me to have tying her down. She deserves to be happy." He finished, out of breath by the end.
"Tosh will never be happy with somebody else, she doesn't see it as tying herself down, she sees it as getting what she's always wanted." I replied softly, before pulling him into a hug. Some of the things he had said really tugged on my heart strings – about his life already having being lived, about how his and Tosh's affections were probably destined to remain unrequited, he sounded like he'd lost all hope.
"Well, she's wrong" He said defiantly, determined to be right as ever. I simply offered up another small, yet sad smile and went back up to my desk. I had tried, but I think it may be a long while yet before Owen Harper is truly back to his old self.