Work Text:
Owen hadn’t meant to actually become fond of the little bastards. At first, it had been one of Tea-Boy’s chores that was assigned to him while Jones was on suspension. Of course he’d complained about it, telling Jack that they hadn’t had to do any of this before the Tea-Boy worked here. Jack had snapped back at him “No, you didn’t, Owen, because I was taking care of all of it. Now pull your weight!” before storming back into the sub-basement to run another scan for Cyber-technology. He’d understood Jack’s being on edge; he had seen what had happened at Canary Wharf too, after all. But that didn’t mean that he should have to start watering the plants now. So he complained about it. He complained more when he couldn’t find any of the supplies he needed (and, really, why in God’s name didn’t Jones leave the watering can in the hothouse instead of stashing it somewhere else?) and had to go buy new ones. He’d kept complaining the next morning, when he came in to work with his arms full of mist sprayers and a few different sized watering cans.
He had only stopped complaining when Tosh, wearing bright yellow rubber gloves that went all the way up her arms, had snapped at him that she was perfectly happy to do it for him and that he could look after Myfanwy instead. When she started peeling back the gloves, looking very much like she was planning on throwing them at his head, he picked up the filled mister and took off up the stairs.
“Right then, you little bastards,” he’d announced to the plants, half-hoping that some of them would start quivering so that this would at least be a little fun, “let’s have a proper look at you!”
When none of the plants so much as twitched, he sighed heavily and dropped the mister onto the table. He was about to slump down into the chair when he saw Tosh glaring up at him and tapping her foot. She made eye contact with, then broke it to slowly and deliberately turn her gaze towards Myfanwy’s apiary. He froze, scowled at Tosh, stood back up, and grabbed the mister. He shook it at her, then turned and sprayed the nearest plant.
Walking around and spraying all the plants wasn’t actually as miserable an experience as he had expected, although it was time-consuming and he’d had to refill the spritzer twice. Over the next four weeks, he went from grudgingly spraying them whenever he had time to slouching up the stairs at the end of the day to slouching up the stairs as soon as he got in, sipping on a truly disgusting takeout coffee that Gwen had brought in (and he was sure she’d done it on purpose - probably to remind them of Jones’ value or something), to coming in half an hour late one day with a factory cart piled high with potting soil and fertilizers to being the first one in one morning (other than Jack - did the man never sleep?) trying to balance a bunch of terrariums as he struggled to get up the stairs without tripping to staying late because he wanted to repot them today, damnit, and there had been a Rift alert while Gwen was out looking into a potential Weevil sighting in an area where the CCTV was, in Tosh’s words, “spotty at best” that had stopped him from doing it earlier in the afternoon to actually looking up plant care sights on the Internet in his free time instead of playing solitaire or watching porn. It was at this point that Jack had wandered over, clearly prepared to yank off his headphones and scold him for goofing off, but instead left with an amused smirk and a truly God-awful parting shot about how glad he was that Owen had “finally decided to turn over a new leaf, haha!” When Owen, rather than flipping him off and starting a round of solitaire to spite him, decided to ignore him and keep watching the video because it was interesting, and started jotting down some of the stuff he was going to need to buy, he realised suddenly that he had at some point started to actually enjoy taking care of the plants, and worse yet, that he was invested in their well-being.
Then Jones came back, with a clean suit and a black trash bag and a haunted look in his eyes. Within the day, he was back at work almost like nothing had happened - almost. He avoided everyone more than ever, even though he hadn’t been granted access to the Archives again yet, and startled when they accidentally dropped things, and stared at nothing while he was manning the Tourist Office, and it was so bloody fucking obvious to Owen now that the kid had PTSD that he was tempted to hit himself over the head with his watering can because he was a doctor and how could he have not noticed? He tried talking to the Tea-Boy about it, but Jones kept scurrying away on obviously false pretexts every time Owen got near him, and Owen was really at his wit’s end because the last thing he wanted to do was actually grab Jones to try and stop him from running off - who knew what that would do to him in the state he was in?
In the end, it was actually the plants that gave him an in. He had been late coming in that morning, and when he got up to the hothouse Jones was already there, blinking at the new setup with what Owen was pretty sure was an impressed expression (though it could also have been bemused, he supposed). It occurred to him that this was probably the first time Jones had been up here since before his suspension.
“Like what I’ve done with the place?” he asked.
Jones whirled around, startled, then raised an eyebrow.
“This was you?” he replied, somehow managing to sound both bland and disbelieving. “Why, Owen, I had no idea that you were capable of this sort of organisation or dedication.”
“Yeah, well, it was a labour of love,” Owen shot back, and instantly regretted it.
Jones smirked slightly, looked him dead in the eyes and murmured “Oh dear.” Given what Owen had seen of Tea-Boy’s way of showing amusement so far, that meant he was in internal hysterics. He scowled.
“Anyway,” Jones finally said, “I thought that maybe I should resume my duties in here too.”
“That’s alright - I can take care of it,” Owen said, hoping that he sounded reassuring rather than condescending.
“Oh,” Tea-Boy said. “Right then,” nodded somewhat jerkily, and made to leave, setting down the mister he’d been holding. Owen frowned. He’d assumed that Jones would prefer having one less job to do, but he seemed almost disappointed. Then Owen remembered all the times during Jones’ suspension that someone had forgotten to do one of their new jobs and someone else had taken them to task for it and the way it almost always ended in a shouting match that often left at least one of them either on the verge of tears or coming in very hungover the next day, and how he had taken to reatreating up to the hothouse whenever it happened. Oh, he realised.
“Hey, Tea-Boy!” he shouted after Jones, who paused on the stairs, “I’ll probably need you to water them on the days when I’m busy in the mornings or have something to autopsy. And you could see about finding any information we’ve got on any of these, because I couldn’t find any in the database.”
After Owen finished the watering, he headed up to Jack’s office and rapped sharply on the door, pushing it open before Jack had a chance to answer. “Owen,” Jack greeted him, surprised but smiling, “Don’t normally see you up here. What is it?”
Owen cleared his throat and stood in front of the desk. Jack stopped smiling as Owen said “Captain Harkness, I would like to make a suggestion based on medical observation.”
Jack nodded, sitting up straighter in his chair. “What is it?” he asked.
“I recommend,” Owen said slowly, “that Jones be granted access to the Archives again, as it is my medical opinion that it would be beneficial to his mental state to allow him to do something a bit more mentally taxing than his present duties. Of course, I also recommend that he be monitored for a period of, say, four weeks to make sure he doesn’t spend an undue amount of time in the sub-basement.”
“Owen,” Jack interrupted warningly.
“For his sake,” Owen said, scowling at Jack. “I don’t want him going anywhere near there with the state he’s in, but I think being able to work on the Archives a bit would help him.”
“Alright, Doctor Harper,” Jack said, smiling at him again, “I’ll implement your recommendation starting tomorrow.”
***********************************************************************************************************************************************
Everyone was shaken up after Brynnblaidd, even their fearless leader. He had almost immediately started fussing over Tosh and making sure that she was alright. Owen had made sure to check up on her as well, after the hospital had confirmed that everyone was going to be alright. He’d tried checking up on Ianto while he was there, only to find that the kid had somehow managed to escape. He hadn’t had a chance to check up on him since then, either; he’d spent nearly an hour in the Archives looking for him at one point, with no success. He knew that Gwen was recovering well, although the thing they had didn’t exactly fall into the ‘looking after her’ category, but they were both enjoying themselves, and it made everything a bit more bearable. But he wasn’t going to sleep with the damn Tea-Boy to try and find out if he was okay, so he needed to think of something else - Ianto was practically wilting away in front of him, he reflected, filled with irritated worry. Suddenly it hit him - wilting! He could get Ianto into the hothouse and check on him then!
The next morning he went in early to make sure that he could beat Ianto there, and hovered around on the catwalk, ignoring the strange looks that Jack kept sending him. He was probably worried that Owen had cracked from stress or something. Ianto was the next one to show up, just as Owen had suspected.
“Tea-Boy!” he yelled. Ianto’s head snapped up. “Come help me water these plants!”
************************************************************************************************************************************************
Tosh looked absolutely gutted, so after only a couple of days, Owen had mostly forgiven her for the whole ‘reading everybody’s mind’ thing. Of course he was still pissed off about it, but his coworker and friend had just had her girlfriend killed in front of her and was clearly upset about it, even though said girlfriend had tried to kidnap and probably kill her. So, as her friend, Owen decided to make sure Tosh was recovering alright.
“Hey Tosh,” he called over to her, closing down his newly-completed list of Mary’s previous victims, “d’ya think you could help me with the plants? Some of them need repotting.”
Tosh looked up at him when he started speaking, then quickly glanced back down. “Sure,” she whispered.
Owen handed her a pair of gardening gloves, saying “Here, you can use the spares,” and hoping that she wouldn’t notice that they were new. The original spare gloves were Ianto’s now, and they were too big for Tosh. It’s for the plants’ sakes, Owen had rationalised as he’d stood in the gardening centre that morning. If the gloves don’t fit her right, she won’t be able to get as good a grip on them and she might accidentally drop one or something.
She smiled at him faintly, murmuring “Thanks.”
As they worked, Owen directed her on sprinkling the topsoil over the newly repotted plants and spraying them with the right amount of water from the mister. After a while, he stopped and looked up at her.
“I do like you,” he said.
Tosh looked at him and frowned. “What?”
“I know I can be a bit of an arse” -he unscrewed and rescrewed the lid of the mister as he spoke- “but i do consider you a friend, and” -he looked her in the eyes- “I promise I wouldn’t have let her take you.”
“Oh,” Tosh said.
Owen nodded sharply. “Anyway, I forgive you,” he said.
Tosh smiled at him a bit tearfully. “Thanks, Owen.”
He nodded again, then said “You’re doing really well with the repotting. I may have to recruit you permanently, now that you’re not busy with Myfanwy anymore.” He patted her on the shoulder as he stood up to refill his mister.
************************************************************************************************************************************************
He didn’t visit his plants after Diane left.
***********************************************************************************************************************************************
Gwen became their leader after Jack left almost by accident. Certainly, none of them had been thinking about who was going to take command. They had been in the boardroom, discussing how they were going to manage the division of labour now that they were a man short. Ianto had made a list of all the things that Jack had taken care of before he’d disappeared on them, complete (of course, because it was Ianto) with little descriptions of each of the tasks. When he’d finished presenting it, they had all sat in silence, staring down at their copies of the list. Then Gwen had stood up.
“Right,” she said. “Ianto, I think you should probably take care of the calls from UNIT and the government.”
Ianto nodded. Gwen turned to him next.
“Owen, do you think you could handle the night shifts until I work out some sort of rota for that?”
“Sure,” he said, shrugging.
Then Gwen asked Tosh “Tosh, I know you’re still working on that Rift predictor program, so I think you should stay out of the field till that’s finished - that way you can get it done quicker.”
“Alright,” Tosh said, nodding.
“Okay, so I’ll set up rotas for field work - Weevil sightings and Rift calls - and for night shifts, since we’ll clearly need someone to stay overnight and monitor the Rift now, and I’ll see about setting up some sort of liaison with Heddlu so they can alert us to anything unusual - that should give us a bit more time to respond. I’ll handle the door-to-door stuff - interviewing and distributing Retcon to witnesses. I think that everything else can be done on a rotating basis?” she said.
“Sounds good to me,” Tosh said, smiling at her encouragingly.
“Right, then - I think that’s everything,” she said, sighing.
“One more thing, if I may,” Ianto announced, standing up again. “I’d like to suggest a candidate for the position of Torchwood Three’s leader until and if Captain Harkness returns.”
Gwen blinked sympathetically at him when he brought Jack up. “Okay,” she agreed.
Wonder who he’s got in mind, Owen speculated. It better not be me - I’ve already made it clear that I don’t want the job. But I’m not sure Tosh does either, and he’s hardly going to suggest himself.
“Gwen Cooper,” Ianto said.
Owen blinked, surprised, then nodded.
“Seconded,” he and Tosh said in unison.
Gwen stared at them, wide-eyed. “Really?” she asked.
“Yeah, you’re a natural,” Ianto said, smiling at her. “You’ve already half sorted out the division of labour.”
“Oh. Okay then,” she said uncertainly. “I accept?”
Ianto nodded at her, smiling faintly; Tosh grinned and told her “You’ll do great!”; Owen clapped a bit obnoxiously but gave her a genuine grin. Gwen smiled back at all of them.
Two weeks later and it was obvious that she was near a breaking point, even more than the rest of them were. Owen, seeing this, had decided on his tried-and-true remedy - a little light gardening.
“Hey, Gwen,” he said when she came in.
“Hey Owen,” she replied. “How was last night?”
“Quiet, thank God,” Owen groaned. “Why does so much stuff come through at two in the morning?”
Gwen chuckled exhaustedly.
“I did want your help with something, though,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I need your help setting up drip waterers for the non CO2-consuming plants so that I don’t have to take the lids off their terrariums anymore. And since Tosh has field duty and Ianto’s busy trying to fob off the Prime Minister again, you’re the only one who’s free,” he explained.
Gwen protested “But I have that report on the Hoix attack yesterday to finish-”
Owen cut her off. “Ianto’s already completed his report, so yours can wait for a bit - we’ve already got one record of the incident filed. Anyway, these plants are living things and they need your help. Come on, Cooper, have a heart,” he wheedled.
Gwen slumped. “Alright.”
Half an hour later, she was more relaxed than he had seen her since Bilis had shown her that vision of Rhys dying, and Owen felt very proud of himself. Strictly speaking, they hadn’t needed to spend so much time setting up the drip system, but Gwen needed a break and it was better for the plants anyway. Owen was certain that putting time and effort, and even (though never when any of the others were around) a little TLC and verbal encouragement into his plants was good for them. A bit, he surmised, like having a good bedside manner with his patients - and a lot like looking after his friends.
Another week after that, he decided that enough was enough and all but dragged Ianto into the hothouse, pushed a mister into his hands, and told him that he was going to have to help with the plants some more now that they were short-staffed. When they were finished, he moved so that he was between Ianto and the door, just in case, and said “I know you’re not much of a hugger, Tea-Boy. Neither am I. But if you get depressed-”
Ianto cut him off abruptly. “You’re right, I’m not.” He paused for a moment and then quietly added “Thanks, though. But not if you’re going to get snot all over my suit jacket. This is quality clothing.”
Owen stared at him for a moment, then brought the mister up and sprayed Ianto in the face. Ianto stared at him, mouth open and an indignant expression on his face, apparently lost for words. Then he started laughing - a low chuckle that steadily turned into a full-on guffaw. Owen realised suddenly that it was the first time he’d heard Ianto really genuinely laugh in months and grinned - right into a spray of water.
*******************************************************************************************************************************************
Jack was acting like nothing was wrong, of course, but Owen called bullshit - the man had fallen off a building, for Christ’s sake, and God knows what had happened to him while he was gone. Even Gwen hadn’t managed to find much out - he had only told her that he had seen the end of the world, and she said that she didn’t want to push him for details. Ianto had volunteered, a bit blushingly, that Jack was having nightmares, and that several seemed to involve them. Tosh had quietly added that he seemed a bit “like me, when I first got out of, you know.” Then they had all turned to Owen, and he’d told them that he’d take care of it. He had since started drawing up plans to add lights and a few heat lamps to some of the hothouse shelves - something that involved mechanics or something, which gave him a perfect excuse to ask Jack to help him.
They worked together in silence, Jack attaching lights around the middles of the terrariums while Owen repotted the plants that didn’t need heat lamps or the extra lights into round terrariums so that he could hang them from the ceiling.
“How have you all been?” Jack asked him suddenly.
“Fine,” Owen said. “Tired,” he added.
Jack laughed, though he looked like he felt a bit guilty.
“And you?” Owen asked.
Jack shrugged. “Oh, you know. So - Gwen became team leader? I’d expected you to fob it off on Tosh.”
“Tea-Boy’s idea, actually,” he said, then narrowed his eyes at Jack, “and don’t think you can change subjects on me, Harkness. I’m your doctor, and you’re going to tell me how you’re feeling.”
Jack opened his mouth, but Owen held up his hand. “Look, I get that you can’t go into details, or don’t want to, but you’re clearly shaken up and I’m gonna help. You can’t get out of it - and I’ll sic Gwen on you if you try.”
Jack stared at him. “Have you always been this mean?” he asked jokingly.
“Yep,” Owen said, grinning.
“But, really, I’m fine,” Jack assured him.
Owen stared at him flatly. “But, really, you look like you’ve got PTSD, Jack,” he replied.
Jack sucked in a breath.
“And I can help with that. Just give me a list of symptoms and we’ll go from there,” Owen said, smiling at Jack.
***********************************************************************************************************************************************
Tosh was really upset about Tommy’s death, and Owen was at a bit of a loss. She wasn’t angry at any of them about having to send him back, because that was what she was like, but she was obviously hurting. As her friend, Owen didn’t want her to be hurt, so he decided that it was time to improve the hothouse, and started trying to come up with something that he could do with the plants. Then, if ever there was an aptly-named Rift Gift, it was the alien tree that fell through the next day. Owen grinned a bit maniacally when Ianto wheeled it in with a long-suffering look on his face and a big streak of dirt across his left cheek.
“Thanks, Ianto,” he said, stepping forwards. “Tosh, could you grab the biggest spare pot and fill it with-” he bent down to inspect the roots “-that reddish soil, about halfway? Thanks!”
“You know,” he remarked to her after they’d gotten the tree settled, “I think this is the first plant I’ve ever had to use the watering can on.”
Tosh smiled. “As long as we don’t have to move it - it looks like it’s got buds.”
The tree did end up having to be moved - the buds were full of a sticky pollen that was damn near impossible to get off of anything it touched, and it kept settling on the tops of the terrariums and blocking the other plants' light. He got Jack to help him move it, since he needed to check up on him anyway after the space whale, to make sure that it hadn’t impaired his recovery. He seemed to be taking it surprisingly well, which Owen chalked up to Ianto. He let Jack go after the tree had been moved, and went to grab the watering can, nearly running into Ianto, who was already holding it.
“Thanks, Tea-Boy,” he said, a bit surprised.
“I figured I’d save you the trouble of trying to find me,” Ianto replied, not quite smirking.
Owen stared at him and groaned. “You knew.”
“I figured it out,” Ianto said, “when you took Gwen up there after Jack left, and then me.”
“Great,” Owen grumbled. “Next you’ll be telling me that you’ve been doing something to check up on me - joining us for a pint after work doesn’t count, by the way.”
Ianto laughed softly. “I’ve just made sure you don’t have any interruptions while you’re up there by yourself,” he told Owen “for the plants’ sakes, of course. It wouldn’t do to have you leave halfway through watering them and miss some when you came back to do the rest.”
Owen snorted.
“And I’m doing fine, thanks for asking,” Ianto added, deadpan.
“No nightmares, then?” he asked.
“No, it was just - just while it was happening. And that night, bit of trouble falling asleep.”
He nodded, patted Ianto on the back, then froze.
“What?” Ianto asked.
“Uh,” Owen said.
“Owen.”
“You’re… covered in pollen.”
“Owen!”
***********************************************************************************************************************************************
He had died. He had died and been brought halfway back, and wrestled Death and won, and lost his job and the ability to do anything with whatever life he’d gotten from the glove. And Jack expected him to make the bloody coffee! He’d been sitting next to the machine and cursing it when Ianto showed up.
“Come to tell me my coffee’s shit?” he snapped.
“It was… nice,” Ianto replied.
“That bad, huh?” he said morosely.
“You could improve, I’m sure. With a little time, and the patience of a saint…” Ianto said, glancing sideways at him.
Owen sputtered indignantly. “Why are you here?” he asked.
“I came to tell you that you forgot to water the plants today,” Ianto told him.
“Oh,” he said, then half-smiled as he stood up. “Thanks, Ianto.”
***********************************************************************************************************************************************
He’d been sparring with Ianto again - something to do with, depending on who you asked, “the disgraceful way you file reports” or “the fact that I am a busy man with a lot to do, Tea-Boy” - and had wound up shouting at him “Well, if my work is that damn bad then you can do it yourself! Or take over some of my other duties so that I have time to fill them out! I’m sorry that you can’t file everything on time, but I have a hothouse to take care of! You wouldn’t understand, though - it’s not like you’ve got anything important to do!”
After he’d finished Ianto had just looked at him with a very disconcerting expression on his face and said blandly “Alright, Owen, I’d be glad to stay late and do some of your extra chores.”
A few weeks later, he went out for drinks with Tosh and Gwen, who was still pretty shaken up by the whole Flat Holm thing. Jack had told them about it in a meeting while Ianto hovered behind his shoulder; Gwen, surprisingly, hadn’t told him and Tosh herself - of course, that made more sense once they learned what it was like. Afterwards, he’d planned to invite them all out for drinks, but Ianto and Jack were up in Jack’s office conversing. Gwen smiled up at them as Ianto put his hand on Jack’s shoulder.
“Fancy a pint, ladies?” he asked.
When Gwen hesitated, he added, “You can invite Rhys to join us if you’d like.”
She smiled at him, nodded, and pulled out her phone as she said “He’ll probably be a bit late; I remember he said he was covering Daf’s shift tonight ‘cause his wife’s taken sick.”
“Tosh, you?” Owen asked.
“I don’t know,” she replied slightly distractedly, “There was a lot I wanted to get done tonight.”
“Please, Tosh?” he said, “It’ll be uncomfortable if it’s just Gwen and me and she’s the only one who can drink. Anyway, we could play a few rounds of pool against her and Rhys once he shows up.”
“Alright,” she said, smiling at him, “let me grab my bag.”
Tosh and Gwen had gotten tipsy pretty fast once they were there; Tosh was, it turned out, a bit of a lightweight and very giggly. Gwen didn’t giggle as much, but she got very talkative. At the moment, she was blushing and leaning in over the table as she beckoned them closer.
“So,” she half-whispered, “I was on my way to ask Jack if I could make the spikes my special project, right? And I see he’s not in his office, and I see a bit of movement in the hothouse, so I head up there and -” she paused for a moment, blushing and giggling a bit “- I walked in and -” she paused again “- he and Ianto were having sex!” She hissed the last bit, face bright red, then took a long gulp of her drink. “I mean, they were definitely on their way there anyway - neither of them were dressed, and they were right up against each other,” she continued, leaning back in.
Tosh was leaning in, wide-eyed and nodding; Owen groaned and rolled his eyes but listened anyway, a fact that he decided to blame on the fact that he couldn’t get drunk instead.
“And, Tosh, you were right!” Gwen said fervently, “They are both really hot!”
“I told you!” Tosh giggled. “I’ve accidentally walked in on them a few times too. But I’ve never seen them in the hothouse before,” she added after a considering pause.
Owen’s head suddenly snapped up. “Wait - the hothouse?!” he shrieked.
Gwen looked taken aback, but nodded, and said “Yeah, like I said earlier.”
“That - that bastard!” Owen sputtered. “The - this is revenge! I know it is! This is about those damn reports! In front of my plants!”
Tosh and Gwen looked at him, then at each other, and started laughing again.
***********************************************************************************************************************************************
It had been a hell of a day already, and it was still before noon. Everyone was scraped up, covered in dust, and clearly shaken; Tosh’s arm was broken; the SUV was gone; and if that wasn’t enough, Jack’s crazy ex was back, too. Owen looked around at everyone. Tosh and Ianto were comparing their arm injuries while Gwen hovered behind them, apologizing for being late while they assured her that it had been a good thing “this time.” Owen sidled over to Rhys, who looked a bit stunned.
“He was dead,” he said without preamble, turning to Owen.
“Yeah, he does that. Bloody Americans, huh?” Owen quipped.
Rhys snorted. Owen patted him on the back and walked over to Jack.
“Heard you died,” he remarked. “Holding up okay?”
Jack turned to him and nodded. “You weren’t injured?” he asked.
“No, I’m fine. Just a few minor abrasions,” Owen assured him. “I’ll just need to give Tosh some pain meds, set and bandage her arm; and I’ll check on Ianto’s arm too - no offense, but I don’t trust your medical skills.”
Jack scoffed, but nodded, glancing back at Ianto again. Owen looked around at the team - his friends - and promised himself that when they’d finished fixing this latest crisis, he was going to drag them all into the hothouse and check on them properly. He could even pick up some more bone meal for his plants on the way home.