TW Fic: Got That Friday Feeling Again (1/4)
Title: Got That Friday Feeling Again
Author: nancybrown
Prompt: Groundhog Day
Characters: Owen, Tosh, Ianto, Jack, Gwen, Archie, Twelve, Clara
Pairings: Owen/quite a lot of people, Jack/Ianto, past Owen/Gwen, Gwen/Rhys
Words: 18000 (6000 this part)
Summary: Owen hates Fridays.
Warnings: suicide (Owen), character death (also Owen), mention of spray from "Everything Changes" (guess who)
Beta: rabecka, with enormous thanks for the edits and for all the sounding board assists while this came into shape. All remaining errors are mine.
Rating: Adult for language
Spoilers: up through Torchwood episode "Meat" and Doctor Who episode "Deep Breath"
Disclaimer: Groundhog Day is the property of Columbia Pictures. Torchwood and Doctor Who belong to the BBC.
Author's Notes: Written for reel_torchwood Screening 8, with a tip of the hat to the previous reel_tw Groundhog Day fic, but really, this plot is designed to be told over and over and over and ...
***
Chapter One
***
"So tell me what you want, what you really, really want
I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want!"
Owen lay in the bed which wasn't his, and he listened to the Spice Girls. After a while, someone knocked on the bedroom door. It would be Toshiko, who always knocked first and tentatively, asking if he felt ill. If he lay still and didn't respond, Jack would thump on the door frame four minutes later.
Owen counted to twenty-seven as Jack growled at him through the wood, and then broke his way into the room.
He shook Owen by the right shoulder, face turning from annoyance to concern as he took in Owen's quiet but alive form still in the bed. Within five seconds, Jack would ask him if he was okay, and if Owen told him what was really wrong, Jack would ask Tosh to step out of the room so he could dispense some fucking useless advice stemming from that two weeks he spent doing too many drugs and having too much sex with Captain Homicide.
Every fucking day.
"Hey, you okay?"
Owen began to weep.
***
Owen crawled in to the Hub at half past dark with a snarl that turned into a yawn midway. His mood was not improved by the paper cup of coffee shoved in his direction, but he spared his automatic two fingered reply in hopes of not having the next cup spat into upon delivery. He sucked down three quarters of the cup before he made eye contact with anyone. When he finally looked up, he noticed the rest had duffle bags already lined up by the door to the underground garage.
"I thought you were joking about packing a bag."
Jack finished typing something into that stupid fucking strap on his wrist. Lights around the Hub flickered and dimmed with each press. "I never joke about packing an overnight bag."
"I am not going fucking camping again with you lot. Ever." By this time, he was awake enough to see winces cross the faces of his colleagues at the mention of their last expedition. Too late to take it back now. "I'm staying here."
Gwen said, "We're going to Glasgow." She pushed past him, annoyance writ large in every gesture. Come to think of it, their last camping trip had started them down their own shared path of terrible mistakes which had felt pretty fucking amazing at the time. The trip hadn't been all bad.
"Get what you need from Medical, then go home," Jack said. "We'll pick you up at yours with your bag packed for two to three days. Next time, listen."
Toshiko followed Owen down into the autopsy area, standing on the steps as he rummaged through his drawers looking for supplies. He tossed a handful of bandages onto the slab. "Any idea why we're going on this merry trip to hell?"
Tosh shrugged. "Archie called early this morning. Something's going on in the long term storage areas of Torchwood House."
"Fantastic. An artefact's gone haywire again. We don't all need to go. Send Ianto. You tag along if it's something technical. Solved."
"You're going," Jack's voice came down from the upper level, and that was that.
"What time is the flight?"
Tosh grimaced and Owen swore. "Six hours in a car with you lot?"
"It could be fun," she said, not sounding enthused.
"Shouldn't you be packing?"
"I'm packed. We're waiting on you. I could help." She wore that same hopeful smile she always did. It grated on his nerves, and grated more when he knew he shouldn't shout at her.
"Yeah," he said. "Why don't you grab the Bekaran scanner and make sure it's safe to travel." That would keep her busy and out of his hair.
"Sure."
***
By hour four, Jack's supply of car games, even the obscene ones, had dwindled to nothing. Gwen phoned Rhys then attempted to have a private conversation with him whilst four other people tried not to listen in. Ianto sat stewing beside Owen in the back, still angry and claiming Owen had cheated on the last game. Tosh had won the front seat at the last rest and was fiddling with the radio.
"Oh, I like this one," she said, and turned up the Spice Girls, who let the entire car know what they really, really wanted.
Jack reached over and dialled in a station he liked, then started singing.
Owen thumped his head on the glass. "Are we there yet?"
***
They disembarked at Torchwood House. Ianto took the keys and sped off, a little too fast, towards their lodgings in order to check in and drop off their bags. Archie met them at the gate, a stocky bloke who appeared to be constructed of layered jumpers and cigar smoke. He shook hands with Jack and flirted with the girls. He'd have had better luck flirting with Jack, but he'd been with Torchwood long enough to know that already.
"You said it was urgent," Jack said, striking a pose against the afternoon light. Anyone else would look like a prat. Jack made it work, the smug arse.
"I said it could be. Still not sure." A jumper peeled aside long enough for Archie to dig out something from one pocket. Owen expected alien thingamafuckery, but the old man only extracted a new cigar and lit it nervously. "We've got an infestation."
Tosh wrinkled her nose. She wasn't a fan of rats or mice. Gwen wiped her arms in that absent way she did when she thought there was a flying insect nearby. "Aliens?" Owen guessed. This was Torchwood, after all. If Archie had beetles in the wood, they probably spoke English and demanded voting rights.
"Ghosts," said Archie. Jack stared at him sceptically. "Or could be aliens. Told you I wasn't sure."
Jack folded his arms. He adopted a patient tone Owen had heard plenty of times, usually when some old dear had got hold of a bit of nasty alien rubbish, and their captain's usual tricks weren't panning out. He'd be very calm, and only a little flirtatious, at the same time no doubt digging through his memories to see if he was addressing one of the many notches on his camp bed post. "Why don't you tell us what happened? You wouldn't say on the phone."
"Phones are tapped."
"We know," Tosh said. "We're tapping them."
"Not us, lass. Them. Not everyone in the government likes the fact we outrank them. Lot of them are angry about that incident at One. They'll see us in the ground, Jack. They're listening for weaknesses."
Jack shrugged. "They can try." He offered a bright smile to quell Archie's paranoia, with a quick glance to Owen, which meant for him to give Two's director and sole employee a physical to check for advancing dementia or brain worms.
Archie led them onto the grounds and into the vast manor house that hid the bulk of Torchwood's remaining archives. Three had a nice little cache in Cardiff, but as they walked, Owen realised that was all they had.
"This place is enormous," said Gwen, a bit awestruck, a bit taking Jack's lead and flirting back with Archie. She took his arm. "I imagine there's a tonne of stories you could tell."
"Oh, I could." As Archie launched into a brief history of fuck this depressing place, Jack twitched his head, directing Owen and Tosh over to the entrance for the first locked vault. "I'll let Gwen do her thing. You two search in here."
"For what?" Tosh asked. She had a scanner in her hand, but it was turned off. "We've dealt with ghosts before. They're not real."
"No, but something may be triggering another time event or interdimensional tear. Or it could be a holoprojector." Jack finished tapping his wrist, and the lock turned green. The door slid open. He pushed Owen and Tosh into the room, and followed them, letting the door close behind them.
Owen said, "You better not have locked us in here."
"Relax. It opens from this side." Jack lowered his voice. "I'm not sure what's going on. Maybe there is an event. Maybe Archie's hallucinating. Owen, I want you to explore option B. Toshiko, welcome to Candyland." He gestured. "Archie doesn't usually let me poke around here. He thinks I'll want to take all the good toys back to Cardiff."
"Don't you?"
"Of course. And we will." The smile turned feral, and a little dark. Jack could play Happy Uncle, but he was just as quick to slit someone's throat if he thought their death was necessary. "You get to decide what we bring home."
Her eyes lit up, the proverbial kid at proverbial Christmas about to stuff herself with proverbial pudding. "Anything?"
"Within reason. We can't haul the whole thing back unless you've finished that mass transducer?" He turned it into a question, but she shook her head. "Well, they might have one in storage here. Look around."
"Right," Owen said, "and you will be doing what while she's stealing Two's loot and I'm examining Mister Jumper?"
"Looking for ghosts."
***
Four hours later and neither ghosts nor aliens spotted, Jack called off the search. "Archie? Join us for a drink?"
"Nah. I've seen you at pubs. You'll be in tomorrow to keep looking?" he asked with a worried look.
"First thing," Jack promised, and led the rest of them out of the darkening halls out to the SUV. Owen grabbed shotgun as Jack pulled the car down the drive. "How is he?"
Archie had smelt of smoke and droned on forever, and Owen had better things to do. He felt not one iota of guilt at the brevity of the exam he'd performed. "Bit of hypertension, no obvious sign of mental deterioration. He did keep going on about the lake monsters." Owen glanced at Jack.
"Those are real."
"Fine. No reason to think he's more bonkers than usual, then."
Gwen said from the back, "He seems nice. Lonely, though. He said it's been years since he's had anyone else working with him here."
Jack drove toward the village; Torchwood House stood quite a bit outside Glasgow proper, which was fine with Owen. The last time Archie'd brought them up here, Owen's wallet had been stolen when he'd gone to the city centre on an errand. He hated Scotland and suspected Scotland hated him right back.
Jack said, "The Glasgow location was where the Institute was founded. Queen Vicky established it right where we were standing today after a visit from two people in a blue phone box."
"But I thought Torchwood was originally founded to hunt down the Doctor?"
"I never said it was a good visit. Anyway, they used to be the big Torchwood team. The rest of us were satellite offices doing our own thing. The organisation got shuffled a decade ago."
"Fifty-two years," Ianto piped up from the back seat.
"Seems like last week," Jack said, annoyed by the constant interruptions. Owen worried there would soon be more singing. "It's just Archie now. The rest, well, you know Torchwood."
Gwen took the hopeful option. "Did any of them retire?"
"Yes," Jack said, confidently, which lifted the spirits of the four listeners. Then after a moment, he added, "Kind of. A few left on the disability plan." Ah. The mood in the car deflated. The disability plan wasn't better than getting sacked. Both came with a big dose of Retcon, and usually without the use of one or more limbs. The only employees to have crawled out of Torchwood with their memories intact had been the twenty-odd survivors of the London disaster. Several of those had topped themselves. Only one had been fucking stupid enough to come back.
The sombre group went into the local for supper. Owen wondered how hard it would be to shake free of the rest of the team and check out any willing and lovely members of the suburban Glaswegian culture. The beer wasn't bad, and the food wasn't good, and he rapidly gave up any hope of pulling tonight.
He went back to the bed and breakfast with the team, and was pleased to get his own room without having to complain. That was worth not harassing Ianto over how many rooms he'd reserved. There'd been five at St. David's. Owen only counted four keys tonight. Anything was better than kipping at that lonely old manor house, crowded with ghosts and, Jack had teased, werewolves. Owen could believe either. In contrast, the B&B was cheery and clean, quilts on every bed and a daft but pleasant smile on the landlady's face as she welcomed them to her roomy home away from home.
He went to his own room, considered the bathtub, then dropped onto his feather bed still clothed, falling asleep with his face in the pillow.
***
"So tell me what you want, what you really really want!"
Owen groaned and slapped the radio alarm clock until the Spice Girls shut up. He closed his eyes again until the thirty-second delay told him what he had to do to be their lover. Then he got out of bed, yawning and groaning and wishing he was anywhere but fucking Scotland.
He stumbled down the stairs to the dining room. The rest of the team had gathered at one small table, grumbling into their own breakfasts. Gwen was in dieting-for-the-wedding mode with only dry toast on her plate. Tosh, clearly not willing to be seen eating a full breakfast next to Gwen, satisfied herself with a very small bowl of porridge. Ianto was finishing his second cup of coffee, forgoing the food entirely and looking like Jack hadn't let him sleep a wink. Jack's plate was filled with bacon, toast, and pastries, all of which he enjoyed oblivious to anyone else's breakfast choices as he told stories about Archie from twenty years ago.
Owen stared at the spread on the sideboard, grabbed a pastry, then sat at the next table hoping enough coffee would still his pounding headache. Around him, the other guests chatted about the weather, and about some festival coming up. A bloke next to Owen jostled his elbow. "What you think about the snow, then?"
Owen blinked at him. Clearly he was being addressed. Snow? "It's September."
"Yeah but they're calling for thirty centimetres. What d'you think?"
"As a medical doctor, I advise you to see someone about those hallucinations."
"Owen," said Jack with a warning tone.
"Tell me we're driving back today."
"Tonight," Gwen said, with a sharp look to Jack, who sighed and nodded.
***
Whatever the fuck festival was going on, all the local idiots were aflutter bustling around. "Why couldn't this have waited?"
Tosh had her scanner out, discreetly pretending it was her mobile. "Maybe someone here caused the disturbance Archie saw."
Owen glanced around them as they walked to where the SUV was parked. A homeless bloke stinking of bad decisions mumbled for spare coins, staring at them with his one bloodshot eye. A mummy with two little snotty brats tagging along promised sweets if her darlings would shut the fuck up for a minute, only phrased for the Teletubbies crowd. An old fart who appeared to be ninety percent eyebrows argued with his far too young girlfriend about the time before storming off. Two old grannies toddled together down the road, speaking loudly to each other. Owen shuddered. The faster they found out what was up with Archie and got back home, the better. Cardiff was a hole in the ground, but it wasn't this bad.
Jack said, "All right, same plan as yesterday. Look for whatever is causing Archie's ghosts, and take inventory of anything we can take back with us." He was met with sleepy nods
As they drove back to Torchwood House, grey clouds gathered overhead. Gwen said, "Do you think it will snow? Only I promised Rhys I'd be home tonight." She missed the collective eye roll from the rest of her colleagues, which was for the best.
"Not this early in the year," Ianto said with a reassuring confidence which turned out to be one hundred percent misplaced.
Archie met them at the gate again, this time with a new jumper and an apology already on his face. Jack didn't even get out of the car before he asked, "What happened?"
"Well," said Archie, stretching the word to four delaying syllables, "I couldn't sleep so well last night. I took a look around the grounds myself. I may have set something off."
"May have?" Jack asked with a great deal of patience.
"Did," Archie admitted. "I was looking for the holoprojector. You remember that one." Jack nodded curtly. "I thought it was behind a few boxes. Well, I moved them, and I dropped one." He stared at Jack.
"And?"
"And the Chula Weather Remapper activated." He looked into the darkening sky. "I did turn it off, but we might be in for a spell of weather. Just a bit."
Jack followed his glance and did some mental maths. "If we leave right now, we can be stranded on M74 in a village we've never heard of. Who's interested?" He was greeted with grumbles and Gwen pulling out her mobile to phone Rhys with an apology which turned into a shouting match. Jack glared at Archie. "How long?"
"Day or two. You remember the Remapper. You lot unearthed it in Cardiff right after Christmas in '62 and chucked it here for safe keeping a few months later."
Beside him, Owen noticed Toshiko casually pull up weather data from December 1962 and January 1963. Her face fell as she read her tiny screen. He read over her shoulder and swore. Any hope of going home was lost with the oncoming storm.
They plodded into Torchwood House once more, Gwen lagging behind to keep her mobile signal. "Okay, kids," Jack said amiably. "Back to work. If it snows, I'll buy you all hot cocoas tomorrow." He handed out assignments to search the dusty old building and threatened to check up on each of them. As they came into the entrance hall, Tosh slung her handbag over her shoulder, knocking into Ianto beside her, who stumbled and tipped over a coat tree, which landed with a great clatter. Tosh murmured an apology as Gwen stifled a giggle. "And try not to break things," Jack said, helping him right it as a blush radiated over Ianto's whole face.
Owen headed towards his assigned room with bad grace, checking boxes against the inventory Archie had printed off for each of them. Yesterday hadn't turned up much. Today wasn't looking any more productive. Behind him, Gwen said, "Are you sure about this? I really don't relish the idea of being snowed in here."
"We will be fine," Jack said. "It might not even snow at all."
***
It snowed.
Great wet flakes drifted through the air as Ianto brought them lunch and complained about the road conditions. White lumps already spread over the lawns, thick as bird shit and just as welcome.
"It's worse to the south," Tosh said, checking the news feeds as she ate her sandwich. "The highways may shut down."
Ignoring Gwen's glare, Jack declared their plan to stay put a victory for road safety, and he refused to worry about the weather for the rest of their increasingly grumpy luncheon. Owen went back to his own search, only to be interrupted a few hours later by Jack's voice in his ear ordering them all to the main hall.
Another piece of alien junk sat on a small table in the hall. Tosh scanned the thing whilst Jack moved his hands around, careful not to touch although someone had clearly moved whatever it was already. Archie leaned his head over in curiosity.
"What's the good news?" Gwen asked.
"Holoprojector," Tosh said. "Activated by psychic energy. Anyone at a Psy level of two or higher can activate it, even by accident." She smiled kindly at Archie. "You're a four?"
"Last they measured me, yeah."
Jack folded his arms. "Interran party toy. Thirtieth century. This one was miscategorised as a diary." He glanced at Archie, who shrugged. "We can leave it, or I can try to pull the power supply. Your ghosts, your call."
"How do we control the holoprojector?" Gwen asked, stepping closer. "Couldn't we just turn the thing off by thinking?"
"Doubtful," said Jack. "Give it a go."
"Me?"
"You're a six. You should be a natural."
"What's that mean?" she asked, suspicion blooming over her face. Owen was dying to know as well, but wouldn't say.
"It's one of your recruitment tests. You were all evaluated when I brought you on."
Tosh frowned. "What?"
Jack waved his hand dismissively. Ianto coughed and said, "Torchwood standard procedure. Torchwood One had mandatory evaluation and training." Beside him, the directors of Torchwood Two and Torchwood Three eloquently expressed their shared opinion of One's policies without saying a word.
Owen didn't remember any psychic testing. He did remember more than one Retcon test. Bloody Jack gave him more tests then wiped his memory. The horny bastard probably snogged him, too.
Gwen looked sceptical but approached the device. "How does it work?"
Jack explained as Tosh typed notes quickly into her data pad. Gwen's expression melted into curiosity. Ianto coughed and disappeared out to the SUV. Owen was sure he'd been surreptitiously filling the boot with Tosh's better finds all day. Owen stood there bored, but not bored enough to help Ianto with the petty larceny of Two's goodies.
Eventually, with a twinkle of blue lights, the holoprojector filled the room with faces. Owen didn't know most of them. Tosh said, "That's Dot Branning." She glanced at Gwen. "You said you didn't watch Eastenders."
"I don't keep up with it," Gwen said, focusing on the holoprojector. "This is really something."
"Turn it off," Jack said. "Or, don't. I've got suggestions of some good holograms you could show."
"Please no," said Owen, horrified at the kind of videos Captain Jack would enjoy. Fortunately, the images faded, even Dot, and the blue lights dimmed to nothing. "Great. Ghost issue solved. Can we leave now?"
Archie tried talking them into spending the night. "It's a lovely manor. I have a night here now and then. And you've sorted out the ghosts."
"Maybe next time," said Jack.
Ianto came back in, snow melting on his jacket. "Are we staying or heading back to the village? The roads aren't getting better."
"We're going." Jack clapped Archie on the shoulder. "Need a lift back to yours?"
"I'll stay, thanks."
"Right. We'll be heading back to Cardiff tomorrow as soon as the roads are clear." They exchanged their goodbyes as the team loaded up the last of their own gear and whatever easily-pocketed items remained. Archie would blow a fuse when he discovered how many artefacts had walked out today. Not Owen's problem.
The drive back to the bed and breakfast went slowly and with a ton of Welsh-accented swearing at every slick patch, until at last they parked in the same spot as this morning.
Gwen said, "It's not so bad out right now. Who wants to visit the festival?" She flashed an extra encouraging smile, not directly reminding them all she wasn't home tonight with her idiot fiancé because of business and they owed her, but allowing that opening.
"Pass," said Owen.
Tosh said, "It could be fun."
Jack looked dreamily at the lights. "Rides, bobbing for apples. Kewpie dolls!" He flashed a grin towards Ianto. "Did I ever tell you that Kewpie dolls are based on Turanian fertility idols?"
"You didn't. We wanted to look at, ah, that thing?" said Ianto to Jack, who immediately nodded. Owen didn't want to know.
"Right. That." He smiled. "Have fun, kids."
"Owen?" Tosh asked, as the pair disappeared into the homey entrance of the B&B, no doubt to shag themselves stupid.
"Not my way to spend a Friday night, thanks." There was a pub with his name on it close by, and surely some bird who wasn't unwilling. He ignored the disappointed look on Tosh's face, before Gwen grabbed her arm and pulled her away towards the snow-covered bunting. He sighed and headed towards the pub.
He got a good seat at the bar, chatted up a few likely-looking candidates for Mrs. Right Here Right Now, and struck out with all of them. He'd give a lot to have that body spray back, he thought, checking out an otherwise pretty blonde with a slight case of nystagmus. Sure, Jack had shouted his ear off after, and told him in no uncertain terms if anyone was found using it again, they'd have to surgically remove his boot from their arse. Sure, looking at the situation from the perspective that "no" didn't mean "yes if you're a bit addled on alien sex hormones," he probably shouldn't use the stuff again. Still, checking out the legs on that girl, Owen would have been happy to balance the needs of the many against the needs of his cock.
More people bustled into the pub, bringing their funfair food and prizes and loud chatter, all of them spilling over onto him. Any chance he had of pulling tonight was smothered under a large stuffed blue bear and an ugly doll both carried by the fat bloke who grabbed the chair next to him. The doll squeaked mournfully as Owen squeezed it, shoving the mess out of his space. The fat bloke muttered an apology but didn't move.
Owen left in defeat and walked back to the B&B in the lightly falling snow.
***
"So tell me what you want, what you really really want!"
Owen groaned. He had a headache and he felt as though he'd barely slept. His hand reached for the snooze, eventually earning himself thirty more seconds of quiet. He groaned again.
He did the usual check when he wasn't home in his own bed. No partner asleep beside him, which meant no awkward slipping out. Slight smell of must under a shit ton of potpourri. Right. That same bed and breakfast in Scotland. Fuck. Maybe the roads had been cleared in the night and they could go back to fucking Wales. The thought was almost not worth getting out of bed.
Eventually he threw off the covers. His clothes from yesterday were back in his bag, as folded as they ever were. Owen gave them the sniff test, decided they passed, and dressed. He glanced out the window and noticed the grey sky with no snow. Even better. The temperature had warmed up overnight, melting the mess away.
In a slightly better mood, he made his way downstairs for breakfast. The others sat around one table. Jack shovelled a forkful of bacon into his mouth as he laughed. "And then, Archie said, 'I swear, the loch was here yesterday!'"
The girls made an attempt at smiles. Gwen had only a bit of dry toast on her plate. Once again, Toshiko had opted for the smallest bowl of porridge possible. Ianto looked just as rough as yesterday. Owen wasn't about to have a long talk with Jack about letting his whatever get a little more fucking sleep with a little less fucking. Not his problem.
He glanced at the table. Same selections as yesterday. The pastry hadn't been very good. He tried a small plate of bacon and toast and sat at the next table over.
"What you think about the snow, then?" The bloke beside him nudged Owen with one very brave elbow.
"Does it usually melt that fast?"
"Melt?" The bloke looked confused. "They're calling for thirty centimetres. What d'you think?"
"I think you're hungover, mate. The storm was yesterday."
"What storm?"
Jack had stopped talking about Archie, and he looked at Owen curiously. He didn't say another word until the time came to shuttle the team out the door. Owen followed last, his headache fading. Outside, the locals were out in force for whatever the fuck festival they had here in Scotland. Sheep would be involved somehow, he was certain.
Tosh pulled her scanner from her handbag, pretending it was her mobile. "Maybe someone here caused the disturbance Archie saw."
An alarm, just as obnoxious as the one which had awakened him this morning, played in the back of his head, and grew louder as he looked around. A homeless bloke pan-handled for spare coins, and Owen was positive Gwen had given him a coin the same way yesterday, even digging for her coin purse with the same polite smile. Not far away, a mummy dragged her two kiddies in a hurry, promising sweets, wandering right by two loudly inappropriate grannies.
Owen rubbed his head. Déjà vu. He really needed to get out of this bloody place and somewhere sane with aliens and Weevils.
Jack said, "All right, same plan as yesterday. Look for whatever is causing Archie's ghosts, and take inventory of anything we can take back with us."
"I thought we were headed home," Owen said. The others stared at him. "We found the artefact already."
"No," Jack said, with less patience than he might. "We're working today. We'll head home tonight."
As they drove, Gwen said, "Do you think it will snow? Only I promised Rhys I'd be home tonight."
At that moment, the alarm in his head blared loudly and a cold pit filled his stomach. "Stop the car."
Jack pulled over, and Owen climbed out of the SUV. Overhead, grey clouds threatened snow. He took several deep breaths of cold air, staring. Behind him, he heard the doors slam. "Owen?" asked Tosh, because of course she'd have come over. "You all right?"
He didn't say anything at first. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but not Tosh's. He turned and saw Jack there, flanked by the rest of the team. "Something you need to tell us?"
He gulped. "Any of you remember it snowing yesterday?" He was greeted with shaken heads. "Shit."
"Time loop," Jack said sympathetically. "First time through?"
"Yeah. This morning started out exactly like yesterday. It snowed yesterday. Closed the highway."
Tosh tapped her scanner looking for information. "There's a bad storm brewing."
Gwen said kindly, "There wasn't any snow yesterday."
"Not for us," said Jack. "Anyone else reliving the day?" The others shook their heads. He sighed, and then he took Owen by the shoulder. "Let's go have a chat. Ianto, phone Archie and tell him we'll be delayed. Gwen, take the keys and keep the car warm. It's a witch's tit out here. Tosh, find out what you can about this snow storm. Owen, step into my office."
When they had walked a bit away from the SUV and out of earshot of the rest, Jack paused. "Did you touch anything yesterday at Torchwood House?"
"A couple dozen things. God knows what you lot played with." He pointed up. "This storm? Archie broke the Chula weather remapper. Apparently you found it in '62 and caused a fuckup then?"
Jack grinned to himself, and Owen just knew he was remembering how he'd kept warm during that previous snowstorm. "Okay, I believe you. They might or might not. The fact that you're the only one who remembers anything says you're the one at the centre of it all."
"So where are the rest of you? Am I inside some fucking time bubble or something?"
"We all are. And we won't be able to leave until it's broken."
"You've broken out of these before, right? You and Captain Murder Spree."
A dark look crossed Jack's face. "Yeah, but it took us five years to figure the way out. You might be stuck for a long, long time, and none of us will know what's happened to you. For us, only one day will pass."
Owen tried to sort this out. "It's only been one day for me."
"True. You might be able to break out after one rotation. Usually that's sparked by a particular event: death, end of the world, that sort of thing, with a chance at a redo. I did one of those … " He stopped talking suddenly, face closing off like a trap. He didn't like talking about his ex, but whatever he was touching on now was absolutely out of bounds. "Anyway, sometimes someone else breaks the loop for you."
"In the meantime, what do I do?"
Jack shrugged. "When I was stuck with him, we had a lot of sex and did a lot of drugs, and I read a lot of books and learned a lot of card tricks. You could pick up a hobby. But Owen? You might think nothing you do in the loop has any consequences, and broadly, you'd be right. You won't go to prison. You won't get fat, or sick, and if you are looping the way I did, you won't even be able to die. But everything you do stays happened for you." He picked his words carefully, like wildflowers. "I undid the consequences of everything that happened during my time loop, but I can never undo having been the man who did those things, no matter how long I live."
Owen was freezing out here in the windy cold and gathering gloom, and his immortal boss was talking to him like a concerned dad before his first date. "All right. Advice noted."
"Good." Jack patted him on the arm. "Today we'll try to sort out what sent you into the loop. If you loop tomorrow, you'll have to explain it to us again. Tosh will ask a lot of questions. Let her. She's got the best chance of helping you."
Owen looked at Jack's wrist strap. "What about that? Didn't you say it let you travel through time?"
"Broken." A twitch of lip Owen couldn't read flickered over Jack's face and vanished. "Anyway, they wouldn't work in the middle of a time bubble. Sorry."
They returned to the SUV. Jack gave a shorter explanation than Owen would have. "You two," he pointed to Gwen and Ianto, "keep searching. Wider parameters this time. Anything that might have started this loop, bring it to me."
As soon as they arrived, Jack cut short Archie's apology about the impending snow and caught him up to speed on Owen's predicament. "Any ideas?"
"I can go through the inventory, but I can't think of a thing. Sorry, lad," he said to Owen, patting him on the arm sympathetically. Puffs of smoke came off today's jumper. As they walked inside, Tosh slung her bag over her shoulder, bumping into Ianto, who knocked into the coat tree. Owen winced as it clattered to the floor.
***
Chapter Two
Author: nancybrown
Prompt: Groundhog Day
Characters: Owen, Tosh, Ianto, Jack, Gwen, Archie, Twelve, Clara
Pairings: Owen/quite a lot of people, Jack/Ianto, past Owen/Gwen, Gwen/Rhys
Words: 18000 (6000 this part)
Summary: Owen hates Fridays.
Warnings: suicide (Owen), character death (also Owen), mention of spray from "Everything Changes" (guess who)
Beta: rabecka, with enormous thanks for the edits and for all the sounding board assists while this came into shape. All remaining errors are mine.
Rating: Adult for language
Spoilers: up through Torchwood episode "Meat" and Doctor Who episode "Deep Breath"
Disclaimer: Groundhog Day is the property of Columbia Pictures. Torchwood and Doctor Who belong to the BBC.
Author's Notes: Written for reel_torchwood Screening 8, with a tip of the hat to the previous reel_tw Groundhog Day fic, but really, this plot is designed to be told over and over and over and ...
***
Chapter One
***
"So tell me what you want, what you really, really want
I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want!"
Owen lay in the bed which wasn't his, and he listened to the Spice Girls. After a while, someone knocked on the bedroom door. It would be Toshiko, who always knocked first and tentatively, asking if he felt ill. If he lay still and didn't respond, Jack would thump on the door frame four minutes later.
Owen counted to twenty-seven as Jack growled at him through the wood, and then broke his way into the room.
He shook Owen by the right shoulder, face turning from annoyance to concern as he took in Owen's quiet but alive form still in the bed. Within five seconds, Jack would ask him if he was okay, and if Owen told him what was really wrong, Jack would ask Tosh to step out of the room so he could dispense some fucking useless advice stemming from that two weeks he spent doing too many drugs and having too much sex with Captain Homicide.
Every fucking day.
"Hey, you okay?"
Owen began to weep.
***
Owen crawled in to the Hub at half past dark with a snarl that turned into a yawn midway. His mood was not improved by the paper cup of coffee shoved in his direction, but he spared his automatic two fingered reply in hopes of not having the next cup spat into upon delivery. He sucked down three quarters of the cup before he made eye contact with anyone. When he finally looked up, he noticed the rest had duffle bags already lined up by the door to the underground garage.
"I thought you were joking about packing a bag."
Jack finished typing something into that stupid fucking strap on his wrist. Lights around the Hub flickered and dimmed with each press. "I never joke about packing an overnight bag."
"I am not going fucking camping again with you lot. Ever." By this time, he was awake enough to see winces cross the faces of his colleagues at the mention of their last expedition. Too late to take it back now. "I'm staying here."
Gwen said, "We're going to Glasgow." She pushed past him, annoyance writ large in every gesture. Come to think of it, their last camping trip had started them down their own shared path of terrible mistakes which had felt pretty fucking amazing at the time. The trip hadn't been all bad.
"Get what you need from Medical, then go home," Jack said. "We'll pick you up at yours with your bag packed for two to three days. Next time, listen."
Toshiko followed Owen down into the autopsy area, standing on the steps as he rummaged through his drawers looking for supplies. He tossed a handful of bandages onto the slab. "Any idea why we're going on this merry trip to hell?"
Tosh shrugged. "Archie called early this morning. Something's going on in the long term storage areas of Torchwood House."
"Fantastic. An artefact's gone haywire again. We don't all need to go. Send Ianto. You tag along if it's something technical. Solved."
"You're going," Jack's voice came down from the upper level, and that was that.
"What time is the flight?"
Tosh grimaced and Owen swore. "Six hours in a car with you lot?"
"It could be fun," she said, not sounding enthused.
"Shouldn't you be packing?"
"I'm packed. We're waiting on you. I could help." She wore that same hopeful smile she always did. It grated on his nerves, and grated more when he knew he shouldn't shout at her.
"Yeah," he said. "Why don't you grab the Bekaran scanner and make sure it's safe to travel." That would keep her busy and out of his hair.
"Sure."
***
By hour four, Jack's supply of car games, even the obscene ones, had dwindled to nothing. Gwen phoned Rhys then attempted to have a private conversation with him whilst four other people tried not to listen in. Ianto sat stewing beside Owen in the back, still angry and claiming Owen had cheated on the last game. Tosh had won the front seat at the last rest and was fiddling with the radio.
"Oh, I like this one," she said, and turned up the Spice Girls, who let the entire car know what they really, really wanted.
Jack reached over and dialled in a station he liked, then started singing.
Owen thumped his head on the glass. "Are we there yet?"
***
They disembarked at Torchwood House. Ianto took the keys and sped off, a little too fast, towards their lodgings in order to check in and drop off their bags. Archie met them at the gate, a stocky bloke who appeared to be constructed of layered jumpers and cigar smoke. He shook hands with Jack and flirted with the girls. He'd have had better luck flirting with Jack, but he'd been with Torchwood long enough to know that already.
"You said it was urgent," Jack said, striking a pose against the afternoon light. Anyone else would look like a prat. Jack made it work, the smug arse.
"I said it could be. Still not sure." A jumper peeled aside long enough for Archie to dig out something from one pocket. Owen expected alien thingamafuckery, but the old man only extracted a new cigar and lit it nervously. "We've got an infestation."
Tosh wrinkled her nose. She wasn't a fan of rats or mice. Gwen wiped her arms in that absent way she did when she thought there was a flying insect nearby. "Aliens?" Owen guessed. This was Torchwood, after all. If Archie had beetles in the wood, they probably spoke English and demanded voting rights.
"Ghosts," said Archie. Jack stared at him sceptically. "Or could be aliens. Told you I wasn't sure."
Jack folded his arms. He adopted a patient tone Owen had heard plenty of times, usually when some old dear had got hold of a bit of nasty alien rubbish, and their captain's usual tricks weren't panning out. He'd be very calm, and only a little flirtatious, at the same time no doubt digging through his memories to see if he was addressing one of the many notches on his camp bed post. "Why don't you tell us what happened? You wouldn't say on the phone."
"Phones are tapped."
"We know," Tosh said. "We're tapping them."
"Not us, lass. Them. Not everyone in the government likes the fact we outrank them. Lot of them are angry about that incident at One. They'll see us in the ground, Jack. They're listening for weaknesses."
Jack shrugged. "They can try." He offered a bright smile to quell Archie's paranoia, with a quick glance to Owen, which meant for him to give Two's director and sole employee a physical to check for advancing dementia or brain worms.
Archie led them onto the grounds and into the vast manor house that hid the bulk of Torchwood's remaining archives. Three had a nice little cache in Cardiff, but as they walked, Owen realised that was all they had.
"This place is enormous," said Gwen, a bit awestruck, a bit taking Jack's lead and flirting back with Archie. She took his arm. "I imagine there's a tonne of stories you could tell."
"Oh, I could." As Archie launched into a brief history of fuck this depressing place, Jack twitched his head, directing Owen and Tosh over to the entrance for the first locked vault. "I'll let Gwen do her thing. You two search in here."
"For what?" Tosh asked. She had a scanner in her hand, but it was turned off. "We've dealt with ghosts before. They're not real."
"No, but something may be triggering another time event or interdimensional tear. Or it could be a holoprojector." Jack finished tapping his wrist, and the lock turned green. The door slid open. He pushed Owen and Tosh into the room, and followed them, letting the door close behind them.
Owen said, "You better not have locked us in here."
"Relax. It opens from this side." Jack lowered his voice. "I'm not sure what's going on. Maybe there is an event. Maybe Archie's hallucinating. Owen, I want you to explore option B. Toshiko, welcome to Candyland." He gestured. "Archie doesn't usually let me poke around here. He thinks I'll want to take all the good toys back to Cardiff."
"Don't you?"
"Of course. And we will." The smile turned feral, and a little dark. Jack could play Happy Uncle, but he was just as quick to slit someone's throat if he thought their death was necessary. "You get to decide what we bring home."
Her eyes lit up, the proverbial kid at proverbial Christmas about to stuff herself with proverbial pudding. "Anything?"
"Within reason. We can't haul the whole thing back unless you've finished that mass transducer?" He turned it into a question, but she shook her head. "Well, they might have one in storage here. Look around."
"Right," Owen said, "and you will be doing what while she's stealing Two's loot and I'm examining Mister Jumper?"
"Looking for ghosts."
***
Four hours later and neither ghosts nor aliens spotted, Jack called off the search. "Archie? Join us for a drink?"
"Nah. I've seen you at pubs. You'll be in tomorrow to keep looking?" he asked with a worried look.
"First thing," Jack promised, and led the rest of them out of the darkening halls out to the SUV. Owen grabbed shotgun as Jack pulled the car down the drive. "How is he?"
Archie had smelt of smoke and droned on forever, and Owen had better things to do. He felt not one iota of guilt at the brevity of the exam he'd performed. "Bit of hypertension, no obvious sign of mental deterioration. He did keep going on about the lake monsters." Owen glanced at Jack.
"Those are real."
"Fine. No reason to think he's more bonkers than usual, then."
Gwen said from the back, "He seems nice. Lonely, though. He said it's been years since he's had anyone else working with him here."
Jack drove toward the village; Torchwood House stood quite a bit outside Glasgow proper, which was fine with Owen. The last time Archie'd brought them up here, Owen's wallet had been stolen when he'd gone to the city centre on an errand. He hated Scotland and suspected Scotland hated him right back.
Jack said, "The Glasgow location was where the Institute was founded. Queen Vicky established it right where we were standing today after a visit from two people in a blue phone box."
"But I thought Torchwood was originally founded to hunt down the Doctor?"
"I never said it was a good visit. Anyway, they used to be the big Torchwood team. The rest of us were satellite offices doing our own thing. The organisation got shuffled a decade ago."
"Fifty-two years," Ianto piped up from the back seat.
"Seems like last week," Jack said, annoyed by the constant interruptions. Owen worried there would soon be more singing. "It's just Archie now. The rest, well, you know Torchwood."
Gwen took the hopeful option. "Did any of them retire?"
"Yes," Jack said, confidently, which lifted the spirits of the four listeners. Then after a moment, he added, "Kind of. A few left on the disability plan." Ah. The mood in the car deflated. The disability plan wasn't better than getting sacked. Both came with a big dose of Retcon, and usually without the use of one or more limbs. The only employees to have crawled out of Torchwood with their memories intact had been the twenty-odd survivors of the London disaster. Several of those had topped themselves. Only one had been fucking stupid enough to come back.
The sombre group went into the local for supper. Owen wondered how hard it would be to shake free of the rest of the team and check out any willing and lovely members of the suburban Glaswegian culture. The beer wasn't bad, and the food wasn't good, and he rapidly gave up any hope of pulling tonight.
He went back to the bed and breakfast with the team, and was pleased to get his own room without having to complain. That was worth not harassing Ianto over how many rooms he'd reserved. There'd been five at St. David's. Owen only counted four keys tonight. Anything was better than kipping at that lonely old manor house, crowded with ghosts and, Jack had teased, werewolves. Owen could believe either. In contrast, the B&B was cheery and clean, quilts on every bed and a daft but pleasant smile on the landlady's face as she welcomed them to her roomy home away from home.
He went to his own room, considered the bathtub, then dropped onto his feather bed still clothed, falling asleep with his face in the pillow.
***
"So tell me what you want, what you really really want!"
Owen groaned and slapped the radio alarm clock until the Spice Girls shut up. He closed his eyes again until the thirty-second delay told him what he had to do to be their lover. Then he got out of bed, yawning and groaning and wishing he was anywhere but fucking Scotland.
He stumbled down the stairs to the dining room. The rest of the team had gathered at one small table, grumbling into their own breakfasts. Gwen was in dieting-for-the-wedding mode with only dry toast on her plate. Tosh, clearly not willing to be seen eating a full breakfast next to Gwen, satisfied herself with a very small bowl of porridge. Ianto was finishing his second cup of coffee, forgoing the food entirely and looking like Jack hadn't let him sleep a wink. Jack's plate was filled with bacon, toast, and pastries, all of which he enjoyed oblivious to anyone else's breakfast choices as he told stories about Archie from twenty years ago.
Owen stared at the spread on the sideboard, grabbed a pastry, then sat at the next table hoping enough coffee would still his pounding headache. Around him, the other guests chatted about the weather, and about some festival coming up. A bloke next to Owen jostled his elbow. "What you think about the snow, then?"
Owen blinked at him. Clearly he was being addressed. Snow? "It's September."
"Yeah but they're calling for thirty centimetres. What d'you think?"
"As a medical doctor, I advise you to see someone about those hallucinations."
"Owen," said Jack with a warning tone.
"Tell me we're driving back today."
"Tonight," Gwen said, with a sharp look to Jack, who sighed and nodded.
***
Whatever the fuck festival was going on, all the local idiots were aflutter bustling around. "Why couldn't this have waited?"
Tosh had her scanner out, discreetly pretending it was her mobile. "Maybe someone here caused the disturbance Archie saw."
Owen glanced around them as they walked to where the SUV was parked. A homeless bloke stinking of bad decisions mumbled for spare coins, staring at them with his one bloodshot eye. A mummy with two little snotty brats tagging along promised sweets if her darlings would shut the fuck up for a minute, only phrased for the Teletubbies crowd. An old fart who appeared to be ninety percent eyebrows argued with his far too young girlfriend about the time before storming off. Two old grannies toddled together down the road, speaking loudly to each other. Owen shuddered. The faster they found out what was up with Archie and got back home, the better. Cardiff was a hole in the ground, but it wasn't this bad.
Jack said, "All right, same plan as yesterday. Look for whatever is causing Archie's ghosts, and take inventory of anything we can take back with us." He was met with sleepy nods
As they drove back to Torchwood House, grey clouds gathered overhead. Gwen said, "Do you think it will snow? Only I promised Rhys I'd be home tonight." She missed the collective eye roll from the rest of her colleagues, which was for the best.
"Not this early in the year," Ianto said with a reassuring confidence which turned out to be one hundred percent misplaced.
Archie met them at the gate again, this time with a new jumper and an apology already on his face. Jack didn't even get out of the car before he asked, "What happened?"
"Well," said Archie, stretching the word to four delaying syllables, "I couldn't sleep so well last night. I took a look around the grounds myself. I may have set something off."
"May have?" Jack asked with a great deal of patience.
"Did," Archie admitted. "I was looking for the holoprojector. You remember that one." Jack nodded curtly. "I thought it was behind a few boxes. Well, I moved them, and I dropped one." He stared at Jack.
"And?"
"And the Chula Weather Remapper activated." He looked into the darkening sky. "I did turn it off, but we might be in for a spell of weather. Just a bit."
Jack followed his glance and did some mental maths. "If we leave right now, we can be stranded on M74 in a village we've never heard of. Who's interested?" He was greeted with grumbles and Gwen pulling out her mobile to phone Rhys with an apology which turned into a shouting match. Jack glared at Archie. "How long?"
"Day or two. You remember the Remapper. You lot unearthed it in Cardiff right after Christmas in '62 and chucked it here for safe keeping a few months later."
Beside him, Owen noticed Toshiko casually pull up weather data from December 1962 and January 1963. Her face fell as she read her tiny screen. He read over her shoulder and swore. Any hope of going home was lost with the oncoming storm.
They plodded into Torchwood House once more, Gwen lagging behind to keep her mobile signal. "Okay, kids," Jack said amiably. "Back to work. If it snows, I'll buy you all hot cocoas tomorrow." He handed out assignments to search the dusty old building and threatened to check up on each of them. As they came into the entrance hall, Tosh slung her handbag over her shoulder, knocking into Ianto beside her, who stumbled and tipped over a coat tree, which landed with a great clatter. Tosh murmured an apology as Gwen stifled a giggle. "And try not to break things," Jack said, helping him right it as a blush radiated over Ianto's whole face.
Owen headed towards his assigned room with bad grace, checking boxes against the inventory Archie had printed off for each of them. Yesterday hadn't turned up much. Today wasn't looking any more productive. Behind him, Gwen said, "Are you sure about this? I really don't relish the idea of being snowed in here."
"We will be fine," Jack said. "It might not even snow at all."
***
It snowed.
Great wet flakes drifted through the air as Ianto brought them lunch and complained about the road conditions. White lumps already spread over the lawns, thick as bird shit and just as welcome.
"It's worse to the south," Tosh said, checking the news feeds as she ate her sandwich. "The highways may shut down."
Ignoring Gwen's glare, Jack declared their plan to stay put a victory for road safety, and he refused to worry about the weather for the rest of their increasingly grumpy luncheon. Owen went back to his own search, only to be interrupted a few hours later by Jack's voice in his ear ordering them all to the main hall.
Another piece of alien junk sat on a small table in the hall. Tosh scanned the thing whilst Jack moved his hands around, careful not to touch although someone had clearly moved whatever it was already. Archie leaned his head over in curiosity.
"What's the good news?" Gwen asked.
"Holoprojector," Tosh said. "Activated by psychic energy. Anyone at a Psy level of two or higher can activate it, even by accident." She smiled kindly at Archie. "You're a four?"
"Last they measured me, yeah."
Jack folded his arms. "Interran party toy. Thirtieth century. This one was miscategorised as a diary." He glanced at Archie, who shrugged. "We can leave it, or I can try to pull the power supply. Your ghosts, your call."
"How do we control the holoprojector?" Gwen asked, stepping closer. "Couldn't we just turn the thing off by thinking?"
"Doubtful," said Jack. "Give it a go."
"Me?"
"You're a six. You should be a natural."
"What's that mean?" she asked, suspicion blooming over her face. Owen was dying to know as well, but wouldn't say.
"It's one of your recruitment tests. You were all evaluated when I brought you on."
Tosh frowned. "What?"
Jack waved his hand dismissively. Ianto coughed and said, "Torchwood standard procedure. Torchwood One had mandatory evaluation and training." Beside him, the directors of Torchwood Two and Torchwood Three eloquently expressed their shared opinion of One's policies without saying a word.
Owen didn't remember any psychic testing. He did remember more than one Retcon test. Bloody Jack gave him more tests then wiped his memory. The horny bastard probably snogged him, too.
Gwen looked sceptical but approached the device. "How does it work?"
Jack explained as Tosh typed notes quickly into her data pad. Gwen's expression melted into curiosity. Ianto coughed and disappeared out to the SUV. Owen was sure he'd been surreptitiously filling the boot with Tosh's better finds all day. Owen stood there bored, but not bored enough to help Ianto with the petty larceny of Two's goodies.
Eventually, with a twinkle of blue lights, the holoprojector filled the room with faces. Owen didn't know most of them. Tosh said, "That's Dot Branning." She glanced at Gwen. "You said you didn't watch Eastenders."
"I don't keep up with it," Gwen said, focusing on the holoprojector. "This is really something."
"Turn it off," Jack said. "Or, don't. I've got suggestions of some good holograms you could show."
"Please no," said Owen, horrified at the kind of videos Captain Jack would enjoy. Fortunately, the images faded, even Dot, and the blue lights dimmed to nothing. "Great. Ghost issue solved. Can we leave now?"
Archie tried talking them into spending the night. "It's a lovely manor. I have a night here now and then. And you've sorted out the ghosts."
"Maybe next time," said Jack.
Ianto came back in, snow melting on his jacket. "Are we staying or heading back to the village? The roads aren't getting better."
"We're going." Jack clapped Archie on the shoulder. "Need a lift back to yours?"
"I'll stay, thanks."
"Right. We'll be heading back to Cardiff tomorrow as soon as the roads are clear." They exchanged their goodbyes as the team loaded up the last of their own gear and whatever easily-pocketed items remained. Archie would blow a fuse when he discovered how many artefacts had walked out today. Not Owen's problem.
The drive back to the bed and breakfast went slowly and with a ton of Welsh-accented swearing at every slick patch, until at last they parked in the same spot as this morning.
Gwen said, "It's not so bad out right now. Who wants to visit the festival?" She flashed an extra encouraging smile, not directly reminding them all she wasn't home tonight with her idiot fiancé because of business and they owed her, but allowing that opening.
"Pass," said Owen.
Tosh said, "It could be fun."
Jack looked dreamily at the lights. "Rides, bobbing for apples. Kewpie dolls!" He flashed a grin towards Ianto. "Did I ever tell you that Kewpie dolls are based on Turanian fertility idols?"
"You didn't. We wanted to look at, ah, that thing?" said Ianto to Jack, who immediately nodded. Owen didn't want to know.
"Right. That." He smiled. "Have fun, kids."
"Owen?" Tosh asked, as the pair disappeared into the homey entrance of the B&B, no doubt to shag themselves stupid.
"Not my way to spend a Friday night, thanks." There was a pub with his name on it close by, and surely some bird who wasn't unwilling. He ignored the disappointed look on Tosh's face, before Gwen grabbed her arm and pulled her away towards the snow-covered bunting. He sighed and headed towards the pub.
He got a good seat at the bar, chatted up a few likely-looking candidates for Mrs. Right Here Right Now, and struck out with all of them. He'd give a lot to have that body spray back, he thought, checking out an otherwise pretty blonde with a slight case of nystagmus. Sure, Jack had shouted his ear off after, and told him in no uncertain terms if anyone was found using it again, they'd have to surgically remove his boot from their arse. Sure, looking at the situation from the perspective that "no" didn't mean "yes if you're a bit addled on alien sex hormones," he probably shouldn't use the stuff again. Still, checking out the legs on that girl, Owen would have been happy to balance the needs of the many against the needs of his cock.
More people bustled into the pub, bringing their funfair food and prizes and loud chatter, all of them spilling over onto him. Any chance he had of pulling tonight was smothered under a large stuffed blue bear and an ugly doll both carried by the fat bloke who grabbed the chair next to him. The doll squeaked mournfully as Owen squeezed it, shoving the mess out of his space. The fat bloke muttered an apology but didn't move.
Owen left in defeat and walked back to the B&B in the lightly falling snow.
***
"So tell me what you want, what you really really want!"
Owen groaned. He had a headache and he felt as though he'd barely slept. His hand reached for the snooze, eventually earning himself thirty more seconds of quiet. He groaned again.
He did the usual check when he wasn't home in his own bed. No partner asleep beside him, which meant no awkward slipping out. Slight smell of must under a shit ton of potpourri. Right. That same bed and breakfast in Scotland. Fuck. Maybe the roads had been cleared in the night and they could go back to fucking Wales. The thought was almost not worth getting out of bed.
Eventually he threw off the covers. His clothes from yesterday were back in his bag, as folded as they ever were. Owen gave them the sniff test, decided they passed, and dressed. He glanced out the window and noticed the grey sky with no snow. Even better. The temperature had warmed up overnight, melting the mess away.
In a slightly better mood, he made his way downstairs for breakfast. The others sat around one table. Jack shovelled a forkful of bacon into his mouth as he laughed. "And then, Archie said, 'I swear, the loch was here yesterday!'"
The girls made an attempt at smiles. Gwen had only a bit of dry toast on her plate. Once again, Toshiko had opted for the smallest bowl of porridge possible. Ianto looked just as rough as yesterday. Owen wasn't about to have a long talk with Jack about letting his whatever get a little more fucking sleep with a little less fucking. Not his problem.
He glanced at the table. Same selections as yesterday. The pastry hadn't been very good. He tried a small plate of bacon and toast and sat at the next table over.
"What you think about the snow, then?" The bloke beside him nudged Owen with one very brave elbow.
"Does it usually melt that fast?"
"Melt?" The bloke looked confused. "They're calling for thirty centimetres. What d'you think?"
"I think you're hungover, mate. The storm was yesterday."
"What storm?"
Jack had stopped talking about Archie, and he looked at Owen curiously. He didn't say another word until the time came to shuttle the team out the door. Owen followed last, his headache fading. Outside, the locals were out in force for whatever the fuck festival they had here in Scotland. Sheep would be involved somehow, he was certain.
Tosh pulled her scanner from her handbag, pretending it was her mobile. "Maybe someone here caused the disturbance Archie saw."
An alarm, just as obnoxious as the one which had awakened him this morning, played in the back of his head, and grew louder as he looked around. A homeless bloke pan-handled for spare coins, and Owen was positive Gwen had given him a coin the same way yesterday, even digging for her coin purse with the same polite smile. Not far away, a mummy dragged her two kiddies in a hurry, promising sweets, wandering right by two loudly inappropriate grannies.
Owen rubbed his head. Déjà vu. He really needed to get out of this bloody place and somewhere sane with aliens and Weevils.
Jack said, "All right, same plan as yesterday. Look for whatever is causing Archie's ghosts, and take inventory of anything we can take back with us."
"I thought we were headed home," Owen said. The others stared at him. "We found the artefact already."
"No," Jack said, with less patience than he might. "We're working today. We'll head home tonight."
As they drove, Gwen said, "Do you think it will snow? Only I promised Rhys I'd be home tonight."
At that moment, the alarm in his head blared loudly and a cold pit filled his stomach. "Stop the car."
Jack pulled over, and Owen climbed out of the SUV. Overhead, grey clouds threatened snow. He took several deep breaths of cold air, staring. Behind him, he heard the doors slam. "Owen?" asked Tosh, because of course she'd have come over. "You all right?"
He didn't say anything at first. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but not Tosh's. He turned and saw Jack there, flanked by the rest of the team. "Something you need to tell us?"
He gulped. "Any of you remember it snowing yesterday?" He was greeted with shaken heads. "Shit."
"Time loop," Jack said sympathetically. "First time through?"
"Yeah. This morning started out exactly like yesterday. It snowed yesterday. Closed the highway."
Tosh tapped her scanner looking for information. "There's a bad storm brewing."
Gwen said kindly, "There wasn't any snow yesterday."
"Not for us," said Jack. "Anyone else reliving the day?" The others shook their heads. He sighed, and then he took Owen by the shoulder. "Let's go have a chat. Ianto, phone Archie and tell him we'll be delayed. Gwen, take the keys and keep the car warm. It's a witch's tit out here. Tosh, find out what you can about this snow storm. Owen, step into my office."
When they had walked a bit away from the SUV and out of earshot of the rest, Jack paused. "Did you touch anything yesterday at Torchwood House?"
"A couple dozen things. God knows what you lot played with." He pointed up. "This storm? Archie broke the Chula weather remapper. Apparently you found it in '62 and caused a fuckup then?"
Jack grinned to himself, and Owen just knew he was remembering how he'd kept warm during that previous snowstorm. "Okay, I believe you. They might or might not. The fact that you're the only one who remembers anything says you're the one at the centre of it all."
"So where are the rest of you? Am I inside some fucking time bubble or something?"
"We all are. And we won't be able to leave until it's broken."
"You've broken out of these before, right? You and Captain Murder Spree."
A dark look crossed Jack's face. "Yeah, but it took us five years to figure the way out. You might be stuck for a long, long time, and none of us will know what's happened to you. For us, only one day will pass."
Owen tried to sort this out. "It's only been one day for me."
"True. You might be able to break out after one rotation. Usually that's sparked by a particular event: death, end of the world, that sort of thing, with a chance at a redo. I did one of those … " He stopped talking suddenly, face closing off like a trap. He didn't like talking about his ex, but whatever he was touching on now was absolutely out of bounds. "Anyway, sometimes someone else breaks the loop for you."
"In the meantime, what do I do?"
Jack shrugged. "When I was stuck with him, we had a lot of sex and did a lot of drugs, and I read a lot of books and learned a lot of card tricks. You could pick up a hobby. But Owen? You might think nothing you do in the loop has any consequences, and broadly, you'd be right. You won't go to prison. You won't get fat, or sick, and if you are looping the way I did, you won't even be able to die. But everything you do stays happened for you." He picked his words carefully, like wildflowers. "I undid the consequences of everything that happened during my time loop, but I can never undo having been the man who did those things, no matter how long I live."
Owen was freezing out here in the windy cold and gathering gloom, and his immortal boss was talking to him like a concerned dad before his first date. "All right. Advice noted."
"Good." Jack patted him on the arm. "Today we'll try to sort out what sent you into the loop. If you loop tomorrow, you'll have to explain it to us again. Tosh will ask a lot of questions. Let her. She's got the best chance of helping you."
Owen looked at Jack's wrist strap. "What about that? Didn't you say it let you travel through time?"
"Broken." A twitch of lip Owen couldn't read flickered over Jack's face and vanished. "Anyway, they wouldn't work in the middle of a time bubble. Sorry."
They returned to the SUV. Jack gave a shorter explanation than Owen would have. "You two," he pointed to Gwen and Ianto, "keep searching. Wider parameters this time. Anything that might have started this loop, bring it to me."
As soon as they arrived, Jack cut short Archie's apology about the impending snow and caught him up to speed on Owen's predicament. "Any ideas?"
"I can go through the inventory, but I can't think of a thing. Sorry, lad," he said to Owen, patting him on the arm sympathetically. Puffs of smoke came off today's jumper. As they walked inside, Tosh slung her bag over her shoulder, bumping into Ianto, who knocked into the coat tree. Owen winced as it clattered to the floor.
***
Chapter Two