Gwen was staring down, at her hands clasped together on top of a long, polished table. She hardly listened to Jack and Martha, speaking in turns; and to Ianto and Mickey, providing much needed, but slightly irritating comical interludes. Her fingers were twitching; something inside her was twitching as well, and she would have mistaken it for Junior moving in her belly if the feeling was nice. But it wasn't. It was gnawing, and twisting, and anxious kind of twitching, and she was sick of it.
Jack apparently finished the meeting, and was gathering files Ianto had spread before him on the table. Mickey jumped from his chair, clearly relieved and ready to go. Gwen cleared her throat, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Wait a moment, Jack," she said quickly. "Just one more thing."
Harkness looked up at her, his blue eyes narrowed. She knew he knew what she was going to say. It didn't make it any easier. She cleared her throat again.
"Now, what about that angel-creature? Is anybody going to ask the obvious question?" She looked around at the rest of the team. "Was it..." she stuttered. "Was it him?"
Ianto looked down, biting his lips. Jack clenched his jaws. Martha's eyes were moving from one face to the other, her breath withheld.
"Do you mean...?" she started.
"No," Jack said harshly. "It can't be him. He's gone. He's..."
"We're talking about a man, who cannot... cannot... well, not die... Who cannot cease to exist," Gwen said.
"It's not him," Jack repeated.
"Are you saying that, because it was you who have made him undead in a first place?" Gwen spat angrily. "Cause that's just denial."
"It wasn't Owen!" Jack shouted. His chair tipped backwards and rammed on the floor as he sprang up. "So, stop it now! Owen's gone!"
"Jack. Jack. Jack!" Gwen was shouting as well now. "Running away won't help. Jack?!"
Harkness didn't stop. He rushed towards the exit without even a look back. He slammed the door behind him. The rest of the team was silent.
"What?!" Gwen yelled, looking at Ianto. "What now?! Somebody had to say it! For God's sake, you named it the King of the Weevils yourself!"
"I just..." Ianto swallowed hard. "Seemed a good idea at the time. To clear the atmosphere. I didn't really mean it."
"Well, you said it," Gwen snorted. "And it certainly didn't clear the atmosphere."
"He's right, though." Ianto got up quickly and started backing towards the door as well. "Owen's gone."
Gwen slammed her hands against the table. She bit her lips looking at them, leaving the room one by one, regretting Rhys hadn't been there for the meeting. He'd back her up, she was sure of it.
"Or maybe it's common sense."
She looked up, at Martha standing next to her chair, arms crossed on its high backrest.
"What?"
"Maybe it's not denial, but common sense," Martha repeated.
"What's so sensible about not considering all of the possibilities?" Gwen asked. "Isn't it what we're supposed to be doing here? Isn't it what Torchwood is for?"
Martha sighed and sat down again. She was moving the folders Jack had left on the table.
"And if it is him?" she asked finally. "What then?"
"Don't look at me," Gwen shrugged. "I have no idea. See, Owen... he used to be a little unbalanced at best of times, and in his death... He... Well, just put yourself in his shoes..."
Martha shook her head. "I don't think I can. I mean, he was dead. He was dead and walking, and he couldn't sleep, or eat..."
"Or shag," Gwen added under her breath.
"Or heal," Martha finished a bit louder. "And then, he gets locked in a nuclear plant, flooded with radioactive coolant; no way to reach him, no way to communicate with him, no way to know if he... If he... I don't know... Dissolved, maybe?"
"I guess we all assumed he was gone," Gwen whispered. "The moment the room flooded... just gone. But now I'm starting to think that maybe he was still there, conscious, watching his body in that water, getting more and more soggy, and falling apart, and..." she gagged with sudden tears. "Can you imagine anything like that? Can you?"
Martha shifted uneasily, a sorrowful frown on her face.
"So if it is Owen," she said slowly, "if by some anomalous coincidence he managed to escape that room... if the rift opened there somehow and sucked him through... there's still no chance to communicate with him... safely."
"He tried to kill Mickey," Gwen mused. "But then, he doesn't know Mickey."
"He did burn Jack," Martha pointed out.
"He has no reason to love Jack either. He shot him once."
"He's very angry," Martha noted.
"He's always had a soft spot for you," said Gwen.
"What?"
"He liked you, Martha. He thought you were gorgeous and smart, smarter and prettier than him, and that says something. He fancied you."
Martha's eyes widened.
"You want me to communicate with Owen?"
"You're my weapon of choice, Doctor Jones."
For a moment they were both silent.
"How are we going to do it?" Martha asked after a while.
Gwen shifted, surprised. "I thought you'd need more convincing."
"Why would I need that?" Martha gave her a slight smile. "If he's Owen, then he's one of us. Maybe he is the King of the Weevils, but maybe he needs help. In the least he deserves an apology. He's one of us and we've left him. I know that there was nothing we could do, and I know he knew it as well, but still... He deserves to hear that 'we're sorry'. And we could get to know how he transformed into an angel."
Gwen shrugged. "That wasn't an angel. I was wrong."
"No. Of course," Martha said quietly.
"Was it?"
"No, Gwen, it wasn't an angel. Or it wasn't Owen. You can't have both at the same time, right?"
Gwen managed to smile. It was a weak smile, but the twitching inside her body subsided a little.
"I thought about going back to that house," she said. "I know it sounds crazy, but we know Weevils are there, and if he's coming back, he'll be back for them. Now, it is dangerous, and I wanted everybody to back me up, but... It seems they don't give a damn. Bloody Torchwood! They just gave up, all of them... Everybody..."
"Everybody but you," Martha said. "We'll need to gear up."
"I wish we knew how to shoot that Dalek's guns we have in the armoury," Gwen sighed. "Bloody effective."
"Guns," Martha hesitated. "I didn't mean..."
The doors burst opened; both wings at once. Jack was standing there, his face full of anger. His gaze moved from one woman to the other. They looked back at him, stubbornly, not giving in to intimidation.
"Just to be clear – Donna's my priority," Jack said curtly. "And I don't believe it was Owen. But none of you is going to that house on your own. And, choose a room without security cameras next time you plan your little coup d'état, will you?"
"Thank you, Jack," Martha said to his shoulders as he swivelled in the spot to walk away. Harkness paused and looked back at her.
"This creature is just another thing that slid through the Rift, and it's up to us to collect them and utilize them," he said. "Sorry if I don't get sentimental on the job."
"Oh, don't you now?" Gwen murmured. Her and Jack's eyes met for a moment, at first angry, then with dawning understanding. He nodded briefly.
"I'll be running," Martha said quickly, gathering her stuff and pushing it to the large handbag. "I'm meeting Wilf tonight; see you later, yeah?" She swung the handbag on her shoulder. "Is ten p.m. all right?"
"Yeah," Jack was still looking at Gwen. "Oh, Martha? Bring the Cornucopia back, will you? I presume you remember what I said about taking the alien technology out of the base?"
Martha bit her lips and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."
"Ten sharp, Martha. And give Wilfred my regards."