Title: Sitcking, Falling Down
By: mickeylover303
Pairing: slight Jack/Ianto, one-sided Tosh/Owen, mention of past Owen/Gwen
Rating: PG
Words: 1609
Summary: Gwen didn't know what it proved, maybe nothing at all.

Gwen bit back a yawn as she blinked tiredly; trying to concentrate on the park CCTV footage Ianto was conveniently able to retrieve earlier. Free for any prior or more important engagements, watching it was tedious at best and only because after staring at the computer screen for two hours, everything began to blur into a predictable loop.

 
She wouldn’t consider himself much of the presumptuous sort; trying her best not to jump to conclusions when she didn’t fully understand the context of the situation. Although, she did note that the opportunity to presume was rarely available – if at all existent – after becoming a member of Torchwood; even to the point where being unknowledgeable became a sort of frustration at not being able to somewhat satiate her curiosity.
 
Yet, it was expected, part of acclimating to such a novel and outlandish environment hidden beyond the world she thought she once knew.  However, ironically, Gwen found herself feeling increasingly more at odds with her colleagues rather than the strange encounters with various creatures and peculiar technologies, to which she was taking a disturbing familiarity despite having five months of experience working for Torchwood under her belt.
 
As if last week’s sight of Ianto carrying an overgrown hamster into the Hub wasn’t enough to convince Gwen exactly why beginning to associate the word familiar with anything that had to do with Torchwood was disturbing. Never mind the near fiasco where the Pakhar escaped from its cage after Owen took it out to examine it for injuries. Unsurprisingly – supposedly because of whatever happened at the warehouse where Owen and Ianto found it – the Pakhar bit Owen on the arm and proceeded to find refugee on top of Ianto’s head.
 
And moreover, because there inherently seemed to be nothing surprising about the prospect of helping Tosh document the subsequent behaviour between male and female Weevils (which Tosh wanted to possibly attribute to a kind of sexual dimorphism), that could help explain the different levels of their sensitivity to the Rift.. Not that Gwen was able to denote a difference initially, but it was one of the few things for which she didn’t feel the need to question Jack. And after hearing Owen’s account (even if she suspected he exaggerated the details), Gwen had no desire to challenge Jack and his explanation of “subtle sexual variation” any time soon.
 
She groaned when Tosh began to stretch beside her, extending one arm over her head and using the other to cover her mouth. Resisting the urge to yawn herself, Gwen reached for mug of cold coffee on the table and brought it to her lips, the cold and sweet liquid in her mouth unwittingly bringing thoughts of Ianto’s whereabouts to mind.
 
“You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want, you know,” Tosh said, moving her wrist to take a brief glance at her watch. “It’s been what – almost two hours, now?”
 
Gwen smiled at Tosh’s consideration. “Not like there’s something else better to do. Besides, I don’t mind keeping you company.”
 
Tosh straightened her glasses, returning Gwen’s smile with a tentative one of her own. “Thanks, but that’s just about the last of it, anyway.”
 
Gwen frowned thoughtfully, peering into the now empty mug in her hands. “Shouldn’t they be done by now? It doesn’t take that long to feed them.”
 
Tosh turned in her chair, facing away from Gwen as her gaze travelled to the computer monitor. “Apparently it takes longer to feed the Weevils than we thought,” she replied, placing her hands on the keyboard. The images on the screen were quickly changing as her fingers moved. “I don’t see them, but that doesn’t mean-”
 
“I think Owen’s going down there,” Gwen interrupted, using a finger to point at a solitary figure nearing a short flight of stairs. She narrowed her eyes. “But he’s stopped moving?”
 
“If Jack and Ianto are down there, why are...” Tosh trailed off, biting her bottom lip before recognition appeared on her face. “Oh.”
 
Gwen mentally reflected Tosh’s surprise, but was more concerned about Owen’s presence by the cages than anything else. If Jack and Ianto were up to something...questionable, then shouldn’t Owen have left rather than choose to stay?
 
“Hey, Tosh...” Gwen began, watching the screen change again as Tosh exited out of the video showing Owen.
 
“Hmm?”
 
“Have you noticed anything...” Gwen paused, thinking of her next words carefully. “...anything strange going on with Owen, lately?”
 
“I can’t say that I have.” Tosh looked at Gwen attentively. There was a slight hesitation in her voice that Gwen didn’t fail to pick up on. “Why do you ask?”
 
Gwen crossed her arms, suddenly wary of the slight tension between herself and other woman that she’d somehow forgotten. “I suppose it’s more about the way he’s been behaving around Ianto, though.” How he seems to be watching and studying Ianto, Gwen wanted to add. But she was still somewhat undecided about whether or not to disclose her observations, certainly not desiring to bring attention to herself for noticing.
 
Tosh blinked, waiting for the other woman to continue.
 
“At first I thought I was just looking too much into it, for something that’s wasn’t there. And then...never mind.” Gwen shook her head, breaking her train of thought with a forced laughter. She felt foolish for some reason, almost embarrassed and she could only hope Tosh would dismiss the idea altogether.
 
Tosh shrugged her shoulders, returning her attention to the computer and Gwen was happy she didn’t question her sudden reluctance about a topic she initiated.
 
Gwen looked away momentarily, rubbing the bottom of her palms against her jeans as she waited in the uncomfortable silence that followed.
 
“Well, I think I should go check on them,” she finally said, breaking the quiet between them, “Just to be on the safe side, since you can’t be too careful around here.” She didn’t try to laugh again when her attempt at humour fell flat.
 
Tosh only nodded absently as Gwen stood, gaze still fixed on the monitor when Gwen removed herself from the chair, the seat continuing to swivel behind her.
 
**
 
Gwen released a heavy sigh as she made her way down the cages, lightly tracing her hand along the concrete wall beside her. She was honestly curious about what seemed to capture the attention of the majority of the team, not lying when she related her concerns about Owen and Ianto to Tosh. But that still didn’t prevent the relief about no longer being in the same room as Tosh and the pity she loathed to admit she felt towards the other woman.
 
However, her reprieve was short lived when she stopped abruptly, stilling when she caught sight of Owen. Gwen narrowed her eyes at the man who was seemingly content to sit at the bottom of the stairs, lingering in the shadows where his presence would be obscured from anyone not directly in front of him.
 
She was puzzled to say the least, but it only served to fuel her suspicions about whatever strange happenings that had been going on between Owen and Ianto.
 
Satisfied that Owen still hadn’t taken notice of her, Gwen carefully took a step back; using the wall as leverage to relieve some of her weight. She couldn’t see what had interested Owen, but she was content to recognise the two voices of the only people Owen could be watching.
 
“Have I ever told you how much I adored this tie?” Gwen heard Jack ask coyly, the tone in his voice something she’d so heard many times before.
 
“More than once,” Ianto replied dryly. “Though, it’s just a tie.”
 
“Ah, but I really, really adore red ties.”
 
“It’s not as if I haven’t worn a red tie before.” Ianto coughed lightly. “Sir.”
 
There was a brief rustling of fabric and Gwen took another step back, wary as Owen stood stiffly. Even through his heavy jacket, his body seemed rigid, taut, and for a moment Gwen lost herself in the dwindling memory of her hands once kneading his tense muscles; only to be broken out of her musings by the sound of Jack’s voice.
 
“So, I take it this one can be easily replaced then?” he asked.
 
“As long as it’s something I don’t have to deduct as a personal expense, but I suppose I could find another one...somewhere.”
 
“And undoubtedly you have more if I’m not mistaken, which I’m not by the way.”
 
“Should I be flattered that my choice in ties means seems to have such a heavy influence on you?”
 
“Not just your choice in ties,” Jack said slyly. And it didn’t take Gwen much to imagine the sort of grin that would accompany his words. “Though, if you really want to get into specifics-”
 
“At this time, no,” Ianto said. “But may I suggest we do something beforehand?”
 
“Preparation is always important,” Jack readily agreed.
 
“In that case, I think it would be prudent to tackle whether or not you have a preference for any particular shade of red.”
 
In response, Jack laughed, a rich and reverberating sound that made Gwen feel more intrusive than she knew she should have.
 
“And that’s assuming you even have more than one, Mr. Jones,” Jack continued, his voice following the sound of footsteps nearing the stairs.
 
As they edged closer, Gwen immediately pushed off against the wall, retreating into the corridor the moment Owen turned around. If he saw her, he didn’t say anything. But neither did Gwen give herself the chance to look back, not waiting for to see if Owen would follow as she made her way back to Tosh.