morning of 3/4
Ianto prepares himself for an argument when he holds up the keys to his car over breakfast, but Owen just shrugs and shoves his hands into the pockets of his cardigan. Ianto's expression stays schooled and blank as he leads the way out towards the car, pausing to turn off the television (he can barely tolerate morning shows at regular volume, let alone the earsplitting volume Owen's been favoring) before leaving the flat.
Owen doesn't speak as they take the lift to the ground floor, but he does drum his fingers noisily on the metal railing. He doesn't speak at all, actually, until he's buckled into the passenger seat of Ianto's car and they're pulling out into traffic.
"So," he says, "how are the girls and Jack?"
Ianto doesn't bother to hide his mild surprise. He wants to say Since when do you care? but he knows that's not fair and he's making an effort not to upset Owen any more than usual. He has a feeling this doctor's visit is going to be upsetting enough.
"Tosh has readjusted to being human," Ianto says. "She's fascinated by the transdogmifier, though, and wants to conduct an in-depth study."
"Transdogmifier?" Owen asks skeptically. "I don't know why the fuck he lets you name things."
Ianto rolls his eyes. "Gwen is Gwen. Despite Tosh's... affection for her leg, she's been on Rhys about getting a pet ever since last week. Training for eventual procreation, I'd imagine."
Owen snorts.
"Jack is...." Ianto trails off, because he's not entirely sure what's going on with Jack. He's trying not to examine it too closely. He's being too nice. Ianto isn't sure how to process it. "Jack is weird."
"Weird how? Alien-conciosness-weird? Or just Jack-weird?"
"Not alien-consciousness-weird," Ianto says. "Thank god. Twice is more than enough for that particular rift trick. He's just been... he's been very... since when do you care?"
Owen shifts uncomfortably and touches the side of his head, his eyes very firmly focused on the road. "I'm bloody bored," he says. "There's only so much you can do when you're fucking around on the internet all day before you're stuck watching YouTube videos of cats and babies."
"Gwen sends you those too?" Ianto asks. "I quite like the one where the baby laughs every time the paper rips."
Owen stops his careful observation of the road to stare at Ianto with disgusted disbelief. "Christ, you're as broody as she is. I never realized you were a bloody woman."
"Fuck off," Ianto says easily, though he can feel his ears heating up in a blush that he hopes to god Owen doesn't comment on.
"No wonder Jack's got his panties in a wad," Owen says. "I'm sure he's horrified that you've misplaced your dick."
"Jack's fine," Ianto says automatically. It's Owen's turn to roll his eyes, but he doesn't say anything. Neither does Ianto, and before long, the silence has stretched past the point of comfort. Owen's fidgeting is increasing exponentially.
"Look," Owen finally says, "talk or don't talk. I don't give a fuck. But if you're not going to talk, put the radio on, would you?"
Ianto sighs. "I'm not talking about Jack," he says. "I've fucked Jack and I don't talk to him about this. I'm not talking to you about it."
"Thank god for small favors," Owen says. "I already know too bloody much about your sex life."
Silence again. Because Ianto has two things--Jack and Torchwood. And neither are good avenues of conversation at the moment.
He hums under his breath for a moment and then sighs and reaches for the radio.
"Sorry," he says.
Owen shrugs and turns the volume up further. The music is making Ianto twitch, but he suppresses it, swallowing against the words that suddenly want to come out now that the music is playing. Owen has enough to deal with. He doesn't need to get further entangled in the knots that Ianto's brain is tied in.
It should be a relief to pull up to the doctor's office, a relief to turn off the noise, but instead, Ianto wishes he could circle the block a few more times. He knows Owen probably wouldn't protest if he suggested it, but he's supposed to be the good influence.
He puts the car in park and plasters on a fake smile. It slips off his face when Owen turns to look at him.
"It's not... whatever she says," Ianto says. "It's not necessarily... I mean, I'm sure she'll help. But you have to remember that this isn't... it's nothing she's seen before. It's nothing anyone has seen before. Nothing she says is necessarily conclusive. It could change at any time. We're really in unknown territory."
Owen stares at him.
"You're rubbish at pep talks," Owen says.
The smile that Ianto cracks after that is real, albeit small.
"Yes, well, it's not like you're any better," he says.
"I don't try to pretend otherwise," Owen says.
Ianto rolls his eyes and unlatches his seat belt, but in his mind, he's repeating his own failed pep talk over and over again. This is unknown territory. This might not be what we think.
If he can believe it, maybe Owen will, too.
Owen doesn't speak as they take the lift to the ground floor, but he does drum his fingers noisily on the metal railing. He doesn't speak at all, actually, until he's buckled into the passenger seat of Ianto's car and they're pulling out into traffic.
"So," he says, "how are the girls and Jack?"
Ianto doesn't bother to hide his mild surprise. He wants to say Since when do you care? but he knows that's not fair and he's making an effort not to upset Owen any more than usual. He has a feeling this doctor's visit is going to be upsetting enough.
"Tosh has readjusted to being human," Ianto says. "She's fascinated by the transdogmifier, though, and wants to conduct an in-depth study."
"Transdogmifier?" Owen asks skeptically. "I don't know why the fuck he lets you name things."
Ianto rolls his eyes. "Gwen is Gwen. Despite Tosh's... affection for her leg, she's been on Rhys about getting a pet ever since last week. Training for eventual procreation, I'd imagine."
Owen snorts.
"Jack is...." Ianto trails off, because he's not entirely sure what's going on with Jack. He's trying not to examine it too closely. He's being too nice. Ianto isn't sure how to process it. "Jack is weird."
"Weird how? Alien-conciosness-weird? Or just Jack-weird?"
"Not alien-consciousness-weird," Ianto says. "Thank god. Twice is more than enough for that particular rift trick. He's just been... he's been very... since when do you care?"
Owen shifts uncomfortably and touches the side of his head, his eyes very firmly focused on the road. "I'm bloody bored," he says. "There's only so much you can do when you're fucking around on the internet all day before you're stuck watching YouTube videos of cats and babies."
"Gwen sends you those too?" Ianto asks. "I quite like the one where the baby laughs every time the paper rips."
Owen stops his careful observation of the road to stare at Ianto with disgusted disbelief. "Christ, you're as broody as she is. I never realized you were a bloody woman."
"Fuck off," Ianto says easily, though he can feel his ears heating up in a blush that he hopes to god Owen doesn't comment on.
"No wonder Jack's got his panties in a wad," Owen says. "I'm sure he's horrified that you've misplaced your dick."
"Jack's fine," Ianto says automatically. It's Owen's turn to roll his eyes, but he doesn't say anything. Neither does Ianto, and before long, the silence has stretched past the point of comfort. Owen's fidgeting is increasing exponentially.
"Look," Owen finally says, "talk or don't talk. I don't give a fuck. But if you're not going to talk, put the radio on, would you?"
Ianto sighs. "I'm not talking about Jack," he says. "I've fucked Jack and I don't talk to him about this. I'm not talking to you about it."
"Thank god for small favors," Owen says. "I already know too bloody much about your sex life."
Silence again. Because Ianto has two things--Jack and Torchwood. And neither are good avenues of conversation at the moment.
He hums under his breath for a moment and then sighs and reaches for the radio.
"Sorry," he says.
Owen shrugs and turns the volume up further. The music is making Ianto twitch, but he suppresses it, swallowing against the words that suddenly want to come out now that the music is playing. Owen has enough to deal with. He doesn't need to get further entangled in the knots that Ianto's brain is tied in.
It should be a relief to pull up to the doctor's office, a relief to turn off the noise, but instead, Ianto wishes he could circle the block a few more times. He knows Owen probably wouldn't protest if he suggested it, but he's supposed to be the good influence.
He puts the car in park and plasters on a fake smile. It slips off his face when Owen turns to look at him.
"It's not... whatever she says," Ianto says. "It's not necessarily... I mean, I'm sure she'll help. But you have to remember that this isn't... it's nothing she's seen before. It's nothing anyone has seen before. Nothing she says is necessarily conclusive. It could change at any time. We're really in unknown territory."
Owen stares at him.
"You're rubbish at pep talks," Owen says.
The smile that Ianto cracks after that is real, albeit small.
"Yes, well, it's not like you're any better," he says.
"I don't try to pretend otherwise," Owen says.
Ianto rolls his eyes and unlatches his seat belt, but in his mind, he's repeating his own failed pep talk over and over again. This is unknown territory. This might not be what we think.
If he can believe it, maybe Owen will, too.