m_findlow

Title: Sick day
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Owen, Tosh
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 632 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for m_findlow's prompt "Any, any, You're hungover. I don't even remember getting drunk." at fic_promptly
Summary: Tosh can't remember the last time she felt this bad.

'I think I'm sick,' Tosh said as she stumbled out of the bathroom, her head pounding and her stomach roiling. She clambered back into the bed and pulled the covers up, enjoying the softness of the pillow under her head. It was much nicer now that her head had stopped spinning.

Owen tried hard not to laugh at her predicament, knowing the sound would only make her headache worse. 'You're not sick. You're hungover, love.'

She let out a little groan. 'Hungover? I don't even remember getting drunk.'

This time Owen did laugh. 'Oh, yeah. You and Teaboy were as thick as thieves last night.'

Owen could already imagine there was a similar conversation going on at their place. Ianto was going to have one hell of a sore head today. He was a cheap drunk at the best of times. The difference was that whilst Tosh would have the good sense to stay home and nurse her hangover in the peace and quiet of their flat, Ianto would stupidly try to go to work. Owen had done it plenty of times himself and knew that the collective effect of all those noises in the hub would make your head explode. He'd be hiding down in the archives all day long, where it was quiet and dark.

'Why didn't you stop me?' came the question from Tosh.

'Why would I do that?' he replied. 'You were having fun.'

'I'm not having fun, now,' she moped. 'What on earth was I drinking?' She knew she could handle her booze better than this. A few glasses of wine and she'd wake up none the worse for wear. This was like no hangover she'd ever had.

'To be honest, Tosh, I can't remember. You lot were working your way through a list of inappropriately named cocktails you found on Google, quizzing each other on what you though they were made of, before ordering one of each.'

Yes, she remembered something called a Bend Over Shirley, which actually tasted a lot nicer than it sounded.

Owen cringed as he remembered some of the names, but cringing more so when Jack said he'd tried them all, and he didn't necessarily mean the beverage version. Tosh had been trying to get Owen to try some of her drink called a blow job, which looked a lot like coffee with cream on top. He might have given it a go if the other three hadn't been giggling so much, telling him how much he'd like a blow job from Tosh. What they did in their own time was nobody's business but theirs.

'And I suppose you'll be telling me you've had sex on the beach?' he said, trying to get one back at Jack.

'Believe me, it's not nearly as pleasant as it sounds,' Jack replied. 'There's some places you just never wanna have sand getting stuck. Stick to the drink on that one.' Owen tried hard not to blush at the comment and left to order the most manly thing he could find, leaving the rest of them to their childish game.

He'd known Tosh was well past it as he manhandled her into the taxi, praying she didn't throw up. Gwen wasn't much better, and Ianto was clinging to Jack, although it may have been the other way around.

'Don't bother coming in early,' Jack told him. 'Not that I think there's much chance of it anyway. Tosh might need a while to recover. Besides, Ianto and I won't be up early either. He told me I have to try a screaming orgasm, but I think he'll pass out before we get home. The only way I'm getting one now is if I order one at the bar.'

'That was more information than I needed,' Owen replied.