Title: Secret Sorrow

Summary: Owen returns to his fiancée's grave andGwen is surprised when she confronts him.

Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood or anything related to the show.

Rating: PG-13 (Language)

A/N: Gwen/Owen. Angst-y one shot.

Owen Harper sits on the sodden grass besides the grave of his dead fiancée. "Another year." He mutters. "Hard to believe it's been three already. Seems like just yesterday you were telling me off for leaving the toilet seat up…Gwen does that. It's not even her sodding toilet. You'd like her." Not for the first time in three years he's talking to his deceased love. He does it when he's lonely or upset. He hasn't talked to her much lately, not since Gwen came to him after their encounter with the countryside. "You've got a lot in common, she can wrap me and Jack around her finger for a start. She's bloody crap at being subtle though." He turns, a small smile gracing his features, to find Gwen standing a little in the distance behind him.

"Tosh sent me to check on you." She feels like she's been caught with her hand in the biscuit tin. He pats the ground beside him, ushering her beside him.

"She told you then?" Gwen nods, her eyes taking in the grave before her and the name on the gravestone. 'Sarah Gayle'.

"She joined Torchwood after me." Owen explains. "Me and Jack spent weeks showing off in front of her…and she chose me." Gwen shifts uncomfortably, feeling like she's intruding.

"How did she…" She trails off, not wanting to push him.

"I couldn't save her." He sighs. "Bloody brilliant doctor aren't I?" He wraps his arms around himself; it isn't because of the cold.

"She had a brain tumour, didn't tell me about it. She said she wanted to live while she still could, couldn't put up with me moping about… she was always putting other people first, just like you…I can't do this Gwen." His head meets his hands and sobs wrack his body.

"It's going to be ok." She pulls him in tight for a hug, something she's never imagined herself doing to him, and whispers soothing words in to his ear.

Finally he composes himself and sits silently with Gwen stroking his hair. "I love you." He should feel bad about admitting that by his fiancée's grave, but he knows she understands. She was his first love, but life in Torchwood is lonely, and he's sick of pretending he doesn't need anyone. Gwen sits silently stunned at the revelation. "I can't just have you in my life to fuck and then let you go back to Rhys. I need more than that. He doesn't deserve you anyway. I, on the other hand do." She smirks, his usual arrogance familiarly comforting to her.

"Be careful what you wish for." She warns. The sky opens up again and the rain beats down on them mercilessly. Standing up she offers him her hand to help him up off the damp earth. Kissing his finger he traces it over the engraving of Sarah's name, a ritual he does every time he leaves, and then takes the offered hand. Pulling Gwen in close he gets them to his car before they catch pneumonia.

"So, I don't suppose you fancy trading Rhys in for a better model?" His cheeky, trademark smirk has returned, and he looks more alive than he has in weeks. Gwen punches him playfully in the arm. Same old Owen. "Maybe in a couple of days we cold go out, catch a movie?"

"That'd be nice."

"Yeah, it would. Don't worry, it won't be cosy when we get back to the flat."

"Owen Harper I-" He cuts her off with a kiss and she forgets what she was about to say. When Owen opens his eyes he sees Sarah's grave, alone in the biting wind and pounding rain. He doesn't feel guilty though; she's not in there, and from the way his heart pounds as Gwen deepens the kiss, he knows there's room for two where she is.

End.