(no subject)
As much as Owen hated the fact that the island had turned into some kind of a winter wonderland overnight, he wasn't about to stay cooped up in the compound until the snow'd melted. For starters, the cold meant it was more crowded inside than usual, and sitting around in the rec room really only meant there were more chances he'd end up stuck under the mistletoe with someone undesirable. He'd seen what it did to people, and while he wasn't at all against a good and proper snog, with his luck, it'd end up being Ianto. Or that one mental girl who talked to the bookshelf like it understood her. Either way, it was a bad idea to be anywhere near that thing.
He'd put on a jacket and headed out on the path towards nowhere in particular, mostly just looking to get away from the crowd and the inevitable onslaught of Christmas cheer. That was another thing about the compound these days. With so many people from so many different times and dimensions, everyone seemed to be keen on celebrating Christmas. Frankly, it was all a bit weird. Owen had nothing against the holiday, but two days of the jukebox blaring 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas' at him whenever he entered the room was enough to drive anyone insane. Next thing he knew, people'd be starting up fucking sing-a-longs at the piano.
Shoes making footprints in the snow as he walked, Owen looked down at his feet. Then he stopped and blinked a few times as a small penguin, black and white and looking like it'd stepped out of some sort of nature programme on television waddled onto the path in front of him.
It stopped and stared. Owen stared back.
"You're not going to start singing Christmas carols are you?"
He'd put on a jacket and headed out on the path towards nowhere in particular, mostly just looking to get away from the crowd and the inevitable onslaught of Christmas cheer. That was another thing about the compound these days. With so many people from so many different times and dimensions, everyone seemed to be keen on celebrating Christmas. Frankly, it was all a bit weird. Owen had nothing against the holiday, but two days of the jukebox blaring 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas' at him whenever he entered the room was enough to drive anyone insane. Next thing he knew, people'd be starting up fucking sing-a-longs at the piano.
Shoes making footprints in the snow as he walked, Owen looked down at his feet. Then he stopped and blinked a few times as a small penguin, black and white and looking like it'd stepped out of some sort of nature programme on television waddled onto the path in front of him.
It stopped and stared. Owen stared back.
"You're not going to start singing Christmas carols are you?"