Fic: Owena's Little Secret
Title: Owena's Little Secret
Series: Torchwood
Character: Dr. Owena Harper
Rating: PG-13
Beta: Going commando
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or the characters therein, the original characters belong to the BBC and RTD. The character of Dr. Owena Harper belongs to the AU Torchwood of knitchick1979
Summary: Owena deals with the events of, unfortunately, just another day at Torchwood.
Author's Note: For some this bunny bit me and not knitchick1979. The characters are used with permission of knitchick1979 and hopefully this will help push her TBB fic.
Owena's Little Secret
Owena finished off the tequila, tossing the bottle into the bin. She felt lost. Her team needed her and no matter what she did, Owena could not seem to think straight.
She let out a sigh and headed into her bedroom. Opening her wardrobe, Owena pulled out the small leather duffel. She softly stroked the leather and sighed - she had not touched this bag in years.
Opening the bag, on top was the last thing she had been working on, a simple hat for Keith. When he died and she had joined Torchwood, she packed this bag up like the rest of her life. She laid the hat out on the bed. It had only needed one more row, but then the virus came and took him away, nearly losing her sanity as well.
She pulled the crochet needle out of the yarn and started yanking. Loop by loop she unraveled the entire thing. Owena would probably regret it in the morning, but right now - right now it felt cathartic. When she was done, she wadded up the green yarn and stuffed it back into the duffel.
Pulling out a skein of blue yarn, Owena grabbed the small case that held her crochet needles. She replaced the one that had been with the hat and tugged out a size H. Something simple to start with, her mother had always said. She huffed. Since when did Owena care what her mother said? Her grandmom had taught her how to crochet, making everything from dolls to delicate lace patterns. Grandmom had said crocheting help calm her nerves during the wars, maybe it would help now.
Owena made her loop and started a chain. Perhaps a scarf for their resident Weevil? Or maybe a muff to wrap tight around Jacqueline’s neck? Owena decided to just crochet, concentrating on the single stitch, letting her mind relax. This was what she needed.
Without realising it, Owena had started putting together a mini Captain Harkness doll. Well, it was the reason she couldn’t concentrate. As she worked, in the back of her mind she started going over the events of the day, and then started working out a solution to the mess that awaited her at the Hub.
Her mobile rang, and Owena glanced at the display screen as it rested on her bedside table. No way was she answering a call from Queen Jacqui now. Let her break down the fucking door if it was that important. Owena continued to crochet, shutting out everything else, including the neighbours having a domestic in the street outside her window. Let them kill each other, she could care less.
Changing out yarn, Owena worked on the arms, her stitches and rows super tight. Her mind processed everything else in her life, even Toshiyuki’s feelings for her. He would have her back. Her hands moved at an incredible speed as she fell into a familiar rhythm.
Digging through the bag, she pulled out a brown yarn. She was making this doll more complex than it needed to be, but she didn’t care. Finishing up with the hair and facial details, Owena took up the grey yarn and started making her Jacqui’s coat.
Her mobile rang again. Owena’s eyes flicked over to the display and she groaned as she saw that it was Jacqueline again. She grabbed the mobile and buried it under her pillow. She did not have time for Jacqueline. Finishing the greatcoat, she slid it onto the doll. Glancing out the window, Owena saw the sun rising over Cardiff.
Putting her supplies back into the duffel, she stored it once again in the far corner of the wardrobe. Picking up the doll, Owena straightened the collar and then chucked it under the bed. Hurrying into the toilet as she had to pee, she barely glanced at the pile of her clothes in the tub, muddy and bloody. Yawning, she knew she would have to take care of them later. Owena wasn’t even going to launder them, just toss them out with the trash.
Her mind strayed to the kid she had to deal with the night before. It wasn’t his fault, he was all of 10. And Jacqueline was right, it wasn’t Owena’s fault. If the alien had lived long enough, Owena knew she would have really made him pay for taking over the body of a child.
She wiped the tears away and shut off the lights. Maybe now she could sleep.
Series: Torchwood
Character: Dr. Owena Harper
Rating: PG-13
Beta: Going commando
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or the characters therein, the original characters belong to the BBC and RTD. The character of Dr. Owena Harper belongs to the AU Torchwood of knitchick1979
Summary: Owena deals with the events of, unfortunately, just another day at Torchwood.
Author's Note: For some this bunny bit me and not knitchick1979. The characters are used with permission of knitchick1979 and hopefully this will help push her TBB fic.
Owena's Little Secret
Owena finished off the tequila, tossing the bottle into the bin. She felt lost. Her team needed her and no matter what she did, Owena could not seem to think straight.
She let out a sigh and headed into her bedroom. Opening her wardrobe, Owena pulled out the small leather duffel. She softly stroked the leather and sighed - she had not touched this bag in years.
Opening the bag, on top was the last thing she had been working on, a simple hat for Keith. When he died and she had joined Torchwood, she packed this bag up like the rest of her life. She laid the hat out on the bed. It had only needed one more row, but then the virus came and took him away, nearly losing her sanity as well.
She pulled the crochet needle out of the yarn and started yanking. Loop by loop she unraveled the entire thing. Owena would probably regret it in the morning, but right now - right now it felt cathartic. When she was done, she wadded up the green yarn and stuffed it back into the duffel.
Pulling out a skein of blue yarn, Owena grabbed the small case that held her crochet needles. She replaced the one that had been with the hat and tugged out a size H. Something simple to start with, her mother had always said. She huffed. Since when did Owena care what her mother said? Her grandmom had taught her how to crochet, making everything from dolls to delicate lace patterns. Grandmom had said crocheting help calm her nerves during the wars, maybe it would help now.
Owena made her loop and started a chain. Perhaps a scarf for their resident Weevil? Or maybe a muff to wrap tight around Jacqueline’s neck? Owena decided to just crochet, concentrating on the single stitch, letting her mind relax. This was what she needed.
Without realising it, Owena had started putting together a mini Captain Harkness doll. Well, it was the reason she couldn’t concentrate. As she worked, in the back of her mind she started going over the events of the day, and then started working out a solution to the mess that awaited her at the Hub.
Her mobile rang, and Owena glanced at the display screen as it rested on her bedside table. No way was she answering a call from Queen Jacqui now. Let her break down the fucking door if it was that important. Owena continued to crochet, shutting out everything else, including the neighbours having a domestic in the street outside her window. Let them kill each other, she could care less.
Changing out yarn, Owena worked on the arms, her stitches and rows super tight. Her mind processed everything else in her life, even Toshiyuki’s feelings for her. He would have her back. Her hands moved at an incredible speed as she fell into a familiar rhythm.
Digging through the bag, she pulled out a brown yarn. She was making this doll more complex than it needed to be, but she didn’t care. Finishing up with the hair and facial details, Owena took up the grey yarn and started making her Jacqui’s coat.
Her mobile rang again. Owena’s eyes flicked over to the display and she groaned as she saw that it was Jacqueline again. She grabbed the mobile and buried it under her pillow. She did not have time for Jacqueline. Finishing the greatcoat, she slid it onto the doll. Glancing out the window, Owena saw the sun rising over Cardiff.
Putting her supplies back into the duffel, she stored it once again in the far corner of the wardrobe. Picking up the doll, Owena straightened the collar and then chucked it under the bed. Hurrying into the toilet as she had to pee, she barely glanced at the pile of her clothes in the tub, muddy and bloody. Yawning, she knew she would have to take care of them later. Owena wasn’t even going to launder them, just toss them out with the trash.
Her mind strayed to the kid she had to deal with the night before. It wasn’t his fault, he was all of 10. And Jacqueline was right, it wasn’t Owena’s fault. If the alien had lived long enough, Owena knew she would have really made him pay for taking over the body of a child.
She wiped the tears away and shut off the lights. Maybe now she could sleep.