Fandomweekly Challenge 124 - What matters most

[m_findlow]

Title: What matters most

Fandom: Torchwood

Characters: Owen, Ianto

Author: m_findlow

Rating: PG.

Length: 1,000 words

Content notes: none

Author notes: Written for Challenge 124 - Best friends forever at fandomweekly

Summary: Owen might not have much, but he has what matters most.

Owen leaned back on his haunches, glad that his body no longer ached from a whole day on his hands and knees, trawling through dusty artifacts and books. 'Are we done yet?' he asked, looking at Ianto who was equally covered in a layer of dust.

He lifted a rolled up sleeve to his forehead and wiped the grime away. 'Not even close, I'm sorry to say,' he replied, sitting back in his own heels. 'Who knew they were hiding this much stuff down here.'

Owen nodded in agreement. The university library in Aberystwyth had turned out to be a cache of weird and wonderful files from some of its kookier tenured professors, now deceased. If there was any doubt the rift occasionally spread further than the Cardiff city limits, this put those doubts soundly to rest. The research papers that had been collecting dust in the farthest corners of their archives would be much safer in Torchwood's hands, where the theories posited could either be verified or debunked. 'What time is it, anyway?' Time didn't pass in an observable way for him anymore since he no longer felt hungry or tired. Given Ianto's dedication to tasks like this, they might have been here for days already.

Ianto consulted his watch. 'Bloody hell. It's ten fifty. Too late to think about driving back, since we'll only be back here again tomorrow. Might as well grab a room for the night.'

'Great.'

Ianto sighed. 'At least you don't have to worry about not having clean underwear.'

'I still put it on,' he replied. 'Man's gotta have some dignity left in this world.'

Ianto snorted. 'Not in this job.' He dusted his hands on his jeans and pushed himself to his feet. 'I think I saw a place on our way into town, not too far. Hopefully they don't mind a late check in.'



It turned out they didn't mind, though Owen felt guilty watching the husband and wife owners potter around the reception desk dressed in their pajamas and slippers.

Owen leaned against the brick wall as Ianto fiddled the key into the lock. 'Hope it isn't the honeymoon suite.'

'Don't worry. I've got us a room with single beds so we don't have to share.'

Owen headed straight for the cupboards over the tiny sink and bar fridge. He loved to poke around in them and see what was on offer. He found a few tea bags and sachets of instant coffee and sugar, a kettle and a small array of junk food arranged neatly on a paper doily. 'Hungry?'

'Starving.'

Owen tossed across the two chocolate bars and the packet of crisps. He held up the bag of salted nuts and Ianto shook his head at the offering. 'Fair enough. Really need a few beers to go with them. Plus they're five quid.'

Ianto sat cross-legged on the bed and prised open the small packet, scoffing a couple and then holding them out to Owen.

'I'm on a corpse diet, remember?'

'Just take one anyway.'

Owen pulled a chip from the small bag and flopped down onto the bed. He inhaled the smell then gave it a good lick on both sides before discarding it, letting the flavour just rest in his mouth. 'God, cheese and onion. I've really missed that. Thanks.'

'Pleasure,' Ianto replied, continuing to nibble the remaining few. 'Besides, everything tastes good when you're starving.'

'Love this job,' Owen teased. 'Everyone else would be rocking around town with their mates on a Friday night, but not us.'

'Not us,' Ianto agreed. 'Do you still do that? Catch up with mates after work?'

Owen shrugged as if the question, and its answer, didn't bother him. Being dead had put a lot of things into perspective. 'Haven't really got any mates anymore. Bit hard to explain why I suddenly don't eat or drink. "You’re never going to guess what happened today. I died, but I'm still here." And I don't fancy having a night out of the lash only to have to gag it all back up again.'

'I suppose so,' Ianto mused, lying back and staring up at the ceiling. 'I don't really think about it that much any more.'

Owen turned on his side to look at him. 'Stupid question, but do you still have mates outside of work?'

Ianto paused over the question. 'They all died at Canary Wharf.'

'Right,' Owen said awkwardly. 'Stupid question,' he repeated in apology.

'But I've got you and Tosh. Even Gwen.'

'And Jack,' Owen reminded him, thinking how unfair it was that Ianto had ticked all the boxes Owen had failed so miserably in life to attain.

'Yes, and Jack. But that's different.'

'Still better than nothing.'

'You've got us,' Ianto told him. 'You've got me, for as long as I'm around.'

Owen wondered just how long that might be. Torchwood liked to kill its people at a consistently frightening pace. Still, it was probably true to say Ianto was the closest thing he had to a best friend these days. The others had been weirded out when Owen resurrected, but Ianto had treated him like always. He'd even taught Owen how to make a decent coffee, which was only all the more annoying now that he couldn't enjoy one.

Ianto yawned and curled over. He looked knackered.

'You don't mind if I have the telly on, do you?' Owen asked. 'Don't sleep anymore even though the late night programming is bloody awful.'

'We're in a motel. They should have cable. Or rent a few movies.'

'You don't mind?'

'If I can sleep through Jack's snoring then I can sleep over the sound of a television. Or I can stay up and keep you company.'

'Nah, get some sleep. One of us should. I don't need it.'

Ianto shrugged. 'Okay.' He tucked the pillow under his head. 'See you in the morning.'

'Yeah. Oh, and Ianto?'

'Hmm?'

'Thanks.'

He kept his eyes shut but smiled. 'What are friends for?'