m_findlow

Title: Keys, please
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Gwen, Owen, Tosh, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 856 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for m_findlow's prompt "Any, any, the infamous rota" at fic_promptly
Summary: Owen has a problem with sharing the keys to the SUV.

'Okay everyone,' Gwen called out, slipping her gun into the back of her belt, 'are we ready to roll?'

Owen tugged back the slide on his own gun, letting it click satisfyingly back into place. 'Locked and loaded.'

'Ready,' Ianto replied.

'Ditto,' added Tosh. 'Who's got the keys for the SUV?'

Ianto held them up and a moment later Owen had snatched them from his hand. 'Alright, let's go,' Owen announced. Gwen, you go shotgun Tosh. Tosh, Ianto, you keep tracking that signal in case it moves and get the local blues and twos to knick off and keep well clear of it.'

'Hang on,' Gwen said, coming to a halt. 'How come you get to drive? Again, I might add.'

'Because I've already delegated everything else to you lot,' he replied.

'I thought we were going to organise a rota, or at least share around driving duties?'

'Seriously?' Owen grumbled, turning to face his three teammates. 'This old chestnut again?'

'I'm with Gwen,' Tosh replied.

Owen rolled his eyes. 'Course you are. Because neither of you drive the thing. Of course you want a change to how we do things.'

'I don't see what the big deal is,' Tosh said, getting her back up at Owen's flat refusal.

'I've told you before,' Owen said, huffing and setting his hands on his hips. 'Who wants to waste time in an emergency frigging around with the seat and the mirrors?'

'You make it sound like it's a big deal.'

'It is!'

'Says the man who's barely three inches taller than either of his female counterparts,' Ianto interjected, coming to Tosh's aid.

'Exactly,' Gwen agreed. 'It'll make no difference whatsoever to share driving duties around. We do everything else as a team and share the duties around.'

'Except coffee and autopsies,' Ianto clarified. 'And no, I'm not volunteering for those, or to let anyone else touch the coffee machine.'

'Yes, well, except for those,' Gwen said, trying to keep up the momentum of the argument. 'Everything else should be equal, including who gets to drive the SUV.'

Owen groaned. 'I didn't hear you banging on about equal rights when Jack was here.'

'Well, he's not here anymore, is he?' Gwen retorted, sounding a little harsher than she'd meant to. 'We decide how we want to run things around here.'

Owen folded his arms. 'You think you're as good a driver as me?'

'I've done defensive driving courses. All part of standard police training.'

'So what? It's not the same as doing it for real. Face it, blokes are just better drivers than women. It's a fact.'

'Rubbish,' Tosh snorted.

'Oi,' Owen began. 'Ianto may drive like an old nana...'

'If by nana you mean doing eighty in a thirty five mile zone,' Ianto snarked, unsure which side of the argument he was supposed to be supporting now.

'...but at least he doesn't mount the kerb when he turns,' Owen finished.

'Hey!' Tosh exclaimed. 'It was one time, okay? If you hadn't been distracting me...'

Owen threw his hand up, stopping her mid sentence. 'Whatever, Tosh. All I'm saying is why break something that isn't broken?'

'We're a team Owen. That means we should do things as a team. Jack did most of the driving and Jack's gone now.' It was the first time she'd said it and not immediately felt sad afterwards. Perhaps Gwen having made the comment earlier had cleared the way for her to verbalise the thought. In some small part of her mind she'd reconciled herself to the fact that he'd abandoned them. Therefore, anything he'd done or decided that was in their best interests no longer held the same gravity. If he hadn't wanted them to take charge of their own destinies and to make their own decisions, then he shouldn't have just left them here.

Owen heaved a sigh, staring at each of him teammates in turn, all of them stony faced.

'Ianto, do you have any objections?' Gwen asked, appealing to his sense of keeping the peace.

'To adjusting the seat, or to being subjected to less of Owen's driving?' he asked.

Owen threw him a dirty look. 'Har bloody har.'

'Both,' Gwen said.

'Then no. Besides, we're all going to have to do night shifts now that... now that there's less of us. It makes sense not to drive if you've been awake for nearly twenty four hours. I can work it into our overnight rota.'

Gwen nodded. 'Good idea. See, Owen? Some things are good for the team even if they might annoy you personally.'

'Yeah, whatever. Drive the bloody bloody car then if it makes you happy. I just won't bank on us ever getting there on time or in one piece. Now, can we go? Or would you prefer to let the alien thing get away and eat a few civilians first? Or do we need to play rock, paper, scissors to decide who's driving? Maybe a game of scrabble to settle it?'

'Just get in the bloody car and drive,' Gwen ordered. 'We'll sort out the rota after we get back, so enjoy it while it lasts.'