Chap. 5: Up For A Challenge
Pairing Tosh/Owen maybe some Jack/Ianto
Rating R this chap?
Spoilers If you've seen season one you're golden.
Disclaimer Don't own it. Wish I did. Please don't sue me.
Author's Note Unbeta'd
Author's Note2 First venture into Torchwood Fic … use me kindly!
Author's Note3 Thanks for sticking with me through the long waits between chappies!
"Bugger?" Owen held Tosh's head between his hands, his thumbs caressing her cheekbones as they both caught their breath.
Her eyes fluttered open and up and she looked him in the eyes. Who had she been kidding? She'd never be over him. And now, now that they'd kissed, and he was looking at her in that dazed, heady way, she was royally screwed. She closed her eyes again."Umm, yes, most definitely bugger."
Owen chuckled and stepped a bit closer to Tosh, his thigh resting between her legs. Pressing his lips to her forehead in a quick kiss, he smiled and lifted his right hand to her hair; running his fingers through the parted silken veil. "You're amazing," he said with a smile.
She swatted him on the chest with the flat of her hand. "Don't. Don't be sweet! Don't placate me, or, or --," she lifted her eyes to his. "I won't stand a chance if you're sweet to me. Be stubborn, and snarky and, and sarcastic. Sarcastic would work."
Owen laughed wholeheartedly. "I said the first thing that came to my mind." He moved his hands to her arms, rubbing them in the early morning chill. "I seem to be full out of snark today, but if you give me a second, I'll see if I can find something stubborn or sarcastic to say."
Tosh groaned in frustration and stamped her foot. "This is not fair!"
"What's not fair?" He slipped his hands to her waist, pulling her a little bit closer. Suddenly, distance between the two of them didn't seem like all that good of an idea.
"How am I suppose to resist you when you're being sweet and cute?"
"One, I don't bloody do cute; I do manly, or sexy. But not cute. Two," his voice lowered, "why resist?"
She hit his chest again. "Because!" Tosh dipped her head. "Because, I've… I've liked you for longer than I care to remember. And until today, you wouldn't have known I was alive unless I turned up dead on your exam table."
Owen used a finger to tilt up Tosh's chin. "I've always known you were alive, Tosh."
"So, what? You just didn't give a damn?!" A spark blazed in her eyes.
"Tosh, I'm not right for you. We – despite where this seems to be going right now – we're not right for one another. You know it. And I know it. I've always known it."
"You're not right for me?"
"I," He dropped his hands from her. "I'm not 'right' for anyone. I've come to grips with that. I mean, what? My most brilliant relationships have been with a woman just slightly more twisted than me, and a woman born at the beginning of the last century?" He ran his hand through the back of his short cropped hair. "I've spent my career racking up a shag scorecard that could outdo Don Juan's. I'm not the stuff that dreams are made of, Tosh."
"I'll tell my bloody subconscious that."
He sighed, "Tosh."
"What? WHAT!? You think I don't know that you're a bloody git!?" She glanced around the empty parking structure and lowered her voice. "You can be the meanest, most thoughtless ass I've ever met. And I've met Jack, so, that's saying something!"
The force of her words backed him up, one step, then another.
"But, I understand why you do what you do. I understand the snark. I understand that the heartless actions don't mean that you're actually missing a heart." Tosh closed the distance between them and placed her hand, gently, against his chest, over his heart. "You're scared."
She could visibly see him bristle at her words.
"Nothing scares me, Tosh. Not a bloody thing." He turned to humor. "Well, nothing except for Albaroth's… oh and those green things we chased down last year, the ones with the purple tails. I'll admit, those were mean, ugly mother-fuckers."
"Right," she ignored his attempt at humor, "Nothing scares you except for emotions. And taking a chance on them."
He opened his mouth to protest.
"Did you never wonder WHY you chose women who were, for lack of a better word, wrong for you? Unavailable… crazy?" She pushed on, ignoring his attempt to interrupt. "It's because you're afraid you, prat!"
He was silent.
"You're afraid." She poked his chest. "You've always been afraid."
"For argument's sake, Ms. Sato, let's just say you're right. Let's say that I'm emotionally afraid. That still proves my bloody point." He walked around her, heading back to the truck. "For fuck's sake, Tosh, do you need a man who's stinted and, and can't bloody give you what you want? What you deserve?"
"What I want – lucky me – is you." She trailed him to the truck and tentatively braced her forehead against his shoulders, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"I have nothing to give you Tosh." Owen hated the strain that ran through his voice.
"A second ago, you didn't even know what I wanted."
He turned around in her arms, staring down into her chocolate eyes. "Yeah well, two minutes ago, you didn't know what my motivations were either."
Tosh graced her hand along Owen's jaw before smoothing her thumb along his lower lip. His quirky, beautiful lips.
"How about we agree that we're both royally fucked up, as evidenced by the type of work that we do, and," she took a deep breath, "And we agree to be royally fucked up, together?"
Owen looked down at Tosh. He didn't deserve her. But, that didn't mean he didn't want her. And it didn't mean that somewhere in the back of his head he wasn't dreaming of the possibility of 'them' becoming a reality.
Tosh stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around Owen's neck. "Are you ready to take a chance, Mr. Harper?"
He grinned like a frightened child, before blowing out a quick, strengthening breath of air. "Always up for a challenge Ms. Sato."
Owen took Tosh's lips in a kiss; a demanding, giving, royally emotional kiss.
In case anyone is curious, the back seats of the Torchwood truck are NOT meant for undressing in. Or for lying down in. And they most definitely are not meant for fondling the goods of one's coworkers. No, the back seats of the Torchwood truck are NOT meant for any of these things.
But Tosh and Owen, they were suddenly, all about embracing challenges – and body parts.
Somehow Owen managed to pull the back door of the truck open without letting loose of Tosh's waist or her lips. His success was probably due to the fact that she was working whole heartedly on the same plan.
Once the door was open, Owen edged his way onto the seat. As he moved backwards, Tosh paced him, climbing almost simultaneously with him into the back of the truck.
"Bloody hell!" He mumbled as they closed the door behind them, his lips against hers, his hands pushing and pulling at her jacket.
"Bloody hell?" She pulled back and made short order of her jacket as she kneeled, half-bent over him.
"Hmm?" He breathed in her scent as he moved his lips along her jaw. Her jaw, why the hell hadn't he noticed how beautiful her jaw was before?
"You said 'bloody hell'?" Tosh worked at the belt buckle wrapped around his hips.
"I did? Oh. Yeah, I did. Umm, I think I'm sitting on the seatbelt thingy."
Tosh mewed excitedly as she successfully undid the buckle and stripped the belt through the loops of his jeans. Then his words connected in her head. Leaning forward over him, her hands on his shoulders, Tosh breathed in the scent of his cologne and smiled. "Poor Owen, I bet that hurts… want me to kiss it and make it all better?"
Owen stared up at what was, quite possibly, the most seductive smile he'd ever seen – on anyone. It made his breath stop. And it made his cock surge. Matching her grin for grin, he cupped her face in his hands and pulled her down to him, "suddenly, I'm feeling a lot of pain, in a lot of places. You may have to kiss a number of spots to truly make me feel better."
Just before their lips touched, Tosh whispered, "I thought you'd never bloody ask."
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Gwen rushed into the hub dropping her bags and stripping off her spring coat as she made her way toward her computer. "The alarm didn't go off. And then I had to let Rh –" she paused as soon as she realized there was no one in the work area. Glancing at her watch Gwen verified that she was indeed late and that it was 730 a.m. "Well where the hell is everyone?"
She turned as she heard the hub door rolling open.
"I'm just saying, Ianto, the full-size mattresses are just – Gwen!"
She leaned back against Tosh's desk. "And why are you two late? Or should I even bother asking?"
Jack winked at her as Ianto blushed and threw out his own question. "Coffee anyone?"
"God yes! I'm fagged!" Gwen settled in Tosh's chair as Ianto moved off.
Crossing her arms over her chest she glanced around the hub, peeling her ears. The only sounds she heard were from Ianto moving off toward the kitchen, and Jack tapping at a computer keyboard.
Turning herself to Tosh's keyboard she accessed Torchwood's video link screens and verified what she'd already been pretty certain of, "Does anyone know how 'I' ended up being the first person here?" She spun in the chair and faced Jack. "Neither Tosh nor Owen is in yet."
Jack grinned in her direction, tapped another key on the keyboard then chuckled. Pressing the intercom button that sat next to him he spoke. "Last call-in was at 1 a.m. Ianto! I said before 2 a.m., I win! And you'll be paying up with, erh," he remembered Gwen's presence and glanced at her. "Suffice it to say, you'll be paying up!"
Jack switched off the com and smiled his brilliant 'I know something you don't know' smile.
"Jack?" Gwen watched him turn and walk into his office. "Jack!"
His door closed.
"I missed something good, didn't I? Crap! I hate it when I miss something good." She mumbled quietly before flinging herself out of the chair and flying up to Jack's office. "Jack! You might as well tell me now! You know I'll find out!" She hammered on his door. "Jack!!"