Fic [Lies Nothing]
Title: Lies Nothing
Rating: PG-13
Character: Owen, Suzie
Summary: He wasn’t here to regain what he’d lost; he was here to forget it had ever existed.
A/N: Written for round 3.04 ofwriterinadrawer. The prompt was about a lesson that had to be learned, and a typical school supply item. Personally, I blame this fic on the fact that I had Bob Dylan’s “Beyond Here Lies Nothing” on my iPod and it came on just as I started writing.
Disclaimer: Do not own anything Torchwood related.
***
Owen had heard some interesting post-sex lines, but Suzie’s “There’s a stapler digging into my back” definitely topped the list.
He rolled off of her and leaned on the desk. “Well, that was… fun,” he said, trying to catch his breath.
Suzie sat up enough to reach behind her and grab a red stapler. She stared at it for a second, and then tossed it away. “I can’t believe you,” she said. One corner of her mouth curved upward. “You’ve been here less than a week and already you’ve skipped work, shoved responsibilities off on one female co-worker, and shagged the other.”
“Should I worry about being sued for sexual harassment?”
Suzie stretched her arms and Owen heard the joints pop. “Probably not. This place is run by Jack.”
Owen grinned. “You know, when he told you to show me the ropes, I’m pretty sure this isn’t what he meant.”
Suzie let out a wicked chuckle. The sound went straight through Owen, and he didn’t retreat when she leaned in close. When she spoke, her lips just touched his. “I taught you a very valuable lesson,” Suzie said. “You never, ever grab an alien spray bottle and just spray it on yourself.” She suddenly straightened, and her manner was brisk again. “Or else your colleagues might jump you. You’re just lucky it was an aphrodisiac instead of some alien virus.”
“Alien artifacts are for work, not play.” Owen recited the words, mockingly monotone. “I’ll remember that next time.”
Suzie’s smile spread across her face, slow and insidious-like an ink stain seeping across white carpet. “You’ve got a lot to learn,” she murmured, buttoning her shirt.
“Like not to test alien perfumes on myself?”
Her hand caressed his cheek. “Among other things. Be careful, Owen. This place is full of shiny, deadly toys.”
He knew that. He reveled in it. Jack was building something here blah, blah, blah. Owen couldn’t give a damn about all that. He was here because his life had crumbled. He had nothing to tie him to the real world. At least in Torchwood there were shiny, deadly things-aliens, the unknown, Suzie-that he could lose himself in.
After all, he wasn’t here to regain what he’d lost; he was here to forget it had ever existed.
But Owen had never been articulate, and even if he could have formed the words, he wouldn’t have said them. When he looked at Suzie again, she was dressed-perfectly crisp and professional, not at all like she’d just had sex on her desk. She gave him one last smile, almost fond this time, before striding out of sight. He finished pulling on his own clothes before surveying the damage. They’d knocked several things off the desk, including that alien perfume. It lay on the ground, silver and innocuous.
He pocketed it.