Author's Note: I still don't own Torchwood. BBC does.

xxxx

Ianto asked the young woman, glancing at brochures at the tourist information desk, "May I help you?"

"Teaboy, Jack suggested I see someone about make-up," said the woman. "Do I look alive to you?"

"Very." Ianto smiled at the woman in the tight sweater, showing off a small but nice bosom. She was Owen's height and weight and had Owen's eye colour, but other than that she did not resemble Owen.

The woman put her hand on the desk. "The funeral beautician could restore my hand cosmetically, but still I don't have much function. You can't even see where I took a scalpel to it."

Ianto's mouth was going dry. "Owen?"

"Yes," said the woman. "Are you going to stare at my breasts all day or are you going to show me in? If you like my breasts so much, you can have them." She put her right hand to the top of her blouse like she was threatening to unbutton her blouse and pull her falsies out of her bra.

Ianto, finally, put the out to lunch sign on the door and locked the door. Then he let Owen into the hub.

xxxx

Owen greeted Gwen with a hug and whispered, "It's been too long."

"You look good," said Gwen.

"You, too. I should have told you that I survived the meltdown, but I didn't want it leaking to Jack." Owen continued to hug her. "If I wasn't dead, I would suggest some girl-on-girl action."

"What about Rhys?"

"That didn't stop you in the ventilation tube, the supply closet and the autopsy table." Owen kissed her cheek, thinking about all those times Gwen's legs and other body parts were wrapped around him. "I never shagged a girl on the autopsy table before you."

"You're so naughty."

"That's what you love about me," Owen whispered in her ear.

Gwen sat down and motioned for Owen to join her on the sofa. "Are you OK?"

"I had to channel my inner Lizzie to get my body to move right," explained Owen. "The ghost machine doesn't pick up normal emotions, so I'm in the ladies clothing store, crying and shaking all over reliving Ed Morgan following me to the bridge. The knife and the terror. His hands on my body."

"I'm sorry."

"Jack treated me like shit when he should have sent me to rape counseling. I should have retconned myself when I had the chance, but I didn't want to forget Lizzie. If I forget Lizzie, then it was all for nothing."

Gwen placed his bad hand on her lap. "Martha said it wouldn't heal."

"A bit of superglue, some mesh and a cosmetician who specialises in preparing bodies a lot worse than mine for open casket," said Owen. "I can't bend the finger I broke, but it looks beautiful."

"Owen, did you wait so long to see a cosmetician that she needed apply too much make-up to give you a good appearance as male?" How could Gwen think that when the only visible make-up was lipstick and eye make-up? The coverup had given him a good even skin tone, but he didn't look overly made-up.

Owen whispered in Gwen's ear. "I'm dressed like this to freak out Jack."

"Then it isn't permanent?"

"My beautician coated me with a thin layer of sealant. So it's permanent unless I have the sealant removed. She ended up colouring my whole body, so my healthy colour wouldn't end at my neck."

"You're beautiful," said Gwen. "Are you happy with the results?"

Owen nodded because, if he spoke, he would cry because he saw Lizzie in the mirror. He stood up and kissed Gwen's cheek. "If Jack isn't here, I'll go. See you around. Tell Martha and Mickey hi."

Jack walked over. "Gwen, who is your friend?"

Owen waved. "Hi, Jack."

"Don't say that on an aeroplane," Gwen teased.

"I could hear you two girls giggling from my office," said Jack.

"I do not giggle," said Owen.

Jack said, "You lost the falsetto."

Owen remembered to use a feminine voice. "How long were you listening in?"

"Long enough," said Jack. "I didn't mean to slight you when you were in crisis. Two years later and you're still affected by Lizzie's rape."

"I didn't watch the rape. I was Lizzie. You don't seem to get that. Ianto hides Lisa in the basement, jeopardising us all and you shag him," said Owen. "I'm shaking and hyperventilating and you send me home."

"Do you want to shag?" asked Jack.

"I don't fart or have sex." Owen, remembering to use a slight wiggle, started walking toward the doorway.

Holding hands, Mickey and Martha were entering the building.

Owen said, "So how are you doing at my old job?"

"Owen?" Martha said, looking him over.

"Jack told me use some of my back-pay to improve my appearance." Owen showed her his hand. "I can't get my function back, but it looks nice."

Martha looked over his hand. "Very nice."

"You and I are doctors. We didn't think out of the box when Barbara, who makes corpses presentable for viewing, saw my hand quite differently," said Owen. "She could have covered over my bullet wound, but I can hide that under my blouse."

"Some other time," said Martha.

"The option is there, but it has a certain shock value and it's part of me." Owen walked toward the autopsy table. "Did you find any alien technology as interesting as the singularity scalpel?"

Martha and Owen talked alien technology and medicine until Mickey announced rift activity.

Jack said, "Owen, you can teach the new kids a thing or two."

Owen blew Jack a kiss. "I need to be heading back to Flat Holm."

"What if some alien wants to steal your breath?" asked Jack.

"Then you blast them with your big gun unless you have doubts about the size of your weapon." Saying it in a falsetto, it sounded so vulgar, which was the point. Owen felt the key ring in his pocket. He was staff, free to come and go from the Flat Holm facility. "Barbara said the sealant was heat stable, so I should be able to return to my duties as laundress. I have sheets to fold."

xxxx

As Owen got a boat back to Holm Flat, he felt a bit guilty for not returning to Torchwood, but only a bit. The next day, he dressed then knocked on the door of Diane's room. "Rise and shine," shouted Owen. "Today we learn how to set up a free email account. If we still have time, we can learn to use Google and Wikipedia to study 55 years of pop culture."

"Owen, some of us have to sleep," said Diane.

"You have a couple weeks before your first flying lesson," said Owen. "And you have 55 years of history to learn."

"Yes, Professor Harper," Diane moaned. "You being dead and all. I don't get to be naughty with the teacher."

Owen waited outside for Diane to finish dressing. Then they walked hand-in-hand to the mess hall. Owen sat quietly as he watched Diane eat.

"Whoever did your make-up is more talented then I," she said.

"I found her through a funeral home," said Owen. "She specialises in making corpses presentable for viewing."

"Owen, are you dressed like a girl because girls can get away with wearing more make-up to spite your comments about moisturising or is there some other reason?"

"Barbara had finished teaching me how to apply cosmetics and was about to use the sealant and I thought about Jack, practically, ordering me to improve my appearance and decided see how I looked with female make-up for shits and giggles," said Owen. "And I'm not dressed like a girl. I'm wearing my clothes."

"Yes, you are," said Diane. "My mistake."

His clothes with the addition of a bra, wig and falsies. "Finish eating your breakfast and we'll get started learning about computers."

"Can you still call you Owen?"

"You don't need to call me Professor Harper," said Owen. "I'm just tutoring you."

"Owen is a boy's name."

"Don't tell Owen Elliot that."

"Who is Owen Elliot?"

"Owen Elliot is the only child of Cass Elliot - Mama Cass," explained Owen. "The Mamas and The Papas were a singing group back in the sixties. They were known for such songs as California Dreaming and Dream a Little Dream of Me."

"So much to learn."

"You don't need to be a trivia expert like yours truly. Just know enough that people don't think you were born yesterday." Owen fondled his keys in his pocket.

Diane took a bite of her eggs. "Computer access and you think you rule the world."

"I'm still the same person I was yesterday."

"That paint job cost money and you have keys." Diane said while eating her food. "You're now among the living, at least, legally. Yesterday, we were both non-persons."

"You will get your own place soon and, in a couple short weeks, you will be flying, again. We can get a place together if going alone is too scary at first. I won't frighten away any potential boyfriends looking like this."

Diane smiled.

Owen smiled back. "See, things aren't that bad." After a full day of teaching Diane about computers, Owen taught Diane about vibrators and Owen learned his sex life wasn't over just because he was dead. There was always a work around.