[date night - for owen]

[did_good]

A date with Owen. Tosh couldn't quite believe that it was actually happening, but it was. He'd agreed and left it up to her to organise. She had one date to show him, to prove to him, that this was something he wanted to pursue.

Tosh had thought about what she wanted. Dinner wasn't enough and a bar wasn't either. There had been posters up about a show, dinner and a performance and she'd purchased two tickets, messaging Owen with the details.

Her dress was simple and the flats she wore were black and plain. Tosh did her best to not look nervous or eager as she waited. He would come, it would be okay.

Comments

[beat_death]

He'd actually agreed to a date with Tosh.

If someone had told him a few years ago that he'd be heading out to go on a date with Tosh, he would've told them that they'd lost it. Gwen, yes-- if she'd ever finished with Rhys, he likely would've given her another go-- but Tosh is Tosh. This is different. And a bit weird, if he's honest about it.

Maybe it's because it hadn't really had time to set in before; no sooner had he agreed to it in the Hub back home than Martha had gotten into trouble, they'd gone after her and he he'd been shot. There's not much time to be spent worrying about getting drinks with a coworker when you can't even drink at all.

He isn't exactly sure what kind of performance Tosh has bought tickets to-- and he'd threatened to call the whole thing off if it was some ridiculous magic show-- but he does manage to turn up just five minutes late. Not quite sure just what he's gotten himself into, Owen has managed to dress a little nicer than usual, trading in jeans for proper trousers and a tee shirt and leather jacket for a crimson button-up and black dress coat.

Maybe it's been a while since he's done something like this, but it doesn't mean he's forgotten how.

"If this is a magic show, Tosh, I'm going right home again," he says, tone edging on annoyed as he approaches. But still, he can't help the way his eyebrows raise a bit in approval when he sees her in that green dress.

Who knew Tosh had good legs?

[did_good]

Five minutes late feels like an eternity when she's the one waiting, and in her way there early. She doesn't fake the smile that lights up her face when he arrives, she can't. Tosh glances down, trying to school her features before looking back up to him.

"It's not a magic show," there's a hint of exasperation that edges her tone, but it's teasing and happy. Truthfully Tosh isn't quite sure of the show, the establishment not quite what she expects. "It's dinner theatre."

[beat_death]

"You say that like it's better," Owen replies with a roll of his eyes, though he's headed towards the door anyway. He said he'd come, and he's here, and he's not going to come this far without at least getting dinner out of it.

"You look nice, by the way," he adds, almost as an afterthought, and he holds the door open for her.

[did_good]

"Lots of people go to dinner theatre," she says, hoping the flush in her cheeks doesn't show in the dim light of the entryway. Tosh spent nearly an hour at the shop trying to decide on a dress. Too fancy, too casual, too sexy. It was all so hard. "Thanks. Just something I had in my closet."

What she means to do is compliment him back, but walking into the restaurant is something unexpected. It's both beautiful and dark, the tables secluded and private, the walls covered in velvet drapes. The most surprising thing is the stage and what's on it. Two girls dressed in corsets and what appears to be bloomers, dancing about with feathers half the size of their bodies. Even more surprising is the girl spinning on the hoop suspended from the ceiling. "Oh."

[beat_death]

"Dinner theatre?" Owen says, looking over at Tosh, an amused look on his face once he's taken in their surroundings Somehow, he doesn't think this is exactly what she'd been expecting. Either that or, he really doesn't know her as well as he thinks he does.

"You do actually know what dinner theatre is, right?" he asks her, though he's mostly just taking the piss. He's sure he'll probably appreciate this show a lot more than what Tosh probably had in mind, but either way, Owen is certain that this was probably a mistake on Tosh's part.

A hilarious mistake, but a mistake, nonetheless.

[did_good]

"Theatre. Involving dinner." The words are said absently as she turns, eyes wide, taking in every bit of the place. This is not what she's planned and yet she can't back out of it.

"This isn't-" she coughs, choking back what she was going to say as she hands over the tickets and the host leads them to their seats. Their seats very close to the stage.

Tosh has to try to regain her composure, saying the only thing that comes to mind. "At least it's not a magic show?"

[beat_death]

Thank God for small favors. Though, he's honestly surprised that she doesn't decide to call the whole thing off straight away. As far as he knows, this is about as far as you can possibly get from being Tosh's scene.

"I take it this wasn't what you had in mind?" Owen asks, though he already knows the answer to that question. It's obvious there's been some kind of mix-up.

He hesitates for a moment, but moves to pull Tosh's chair out anyway. It's a weird moment on too many levels for him to really keep straight, in part because the moment reminds him a bit of Diane.

[did_good]

Not her thing, no, but she's also not the type to back out of something. Especially tonight when they're finally both here. Leaving, rescheduling, it seems too easy an out for them both and as nervous as she is, Tosh is determined this night will go well. Cabaret show or not.

"Not really," she admits as she sits, nodding in thanks. "It said cabaret but I thought it was more traditional and less..."

Tosh waves at the stage, at a loss for the right word, "something Jack would take us to?"

[beat_death]

"Oh, come off it," Owen replies, taking his own seat on the other side of the table, "Jack never took us anywhere there wasn't something worth investigating."

She's right though, if Jack was going to take them anywhere, he figures it might be somewhere like this. Or actually, this is probably a relatively tame version of someplace he might take them.

God knows Owen doesn't want to know about what all turns Jack Harkness on. Especially because Ianto's somehow included in that list.

[did_good]

"This isn't worth investigating?" Jack had changed after Gwen arrived on the team, but they still weren't exactly chummy outside of work. That had never been his style. "Would you really have wanted to come to a place like this with Jack?"

Which leaves the question if he wants to be at a place like this with her unasked. They're here though, so she leaves it.

Tosh looks to the wine menu on the table, wondering if she should look at it or if he's going to order for them both. "At least they're still serving us dinner."

[beat_death]

"That sounds like the worst evening imaginable," Owen says, then catches Tosh's glance at the drink menu.

Right. Drinks.

Shit. Is he supposed to order for her? He doesn't think he even remembers what she drinks. This whole thing is still weird.

"I never got that," he continues, picking up the drinks menu to glance at it, "the whole sex and food thing. I don't know about you, but scantily clad people don't make me particularly hungry."

[did_good]

"Not hungry for food," she says as she folds the napkin into her lap, the innuendo likely lost in the ambient noise. It's what Tosh hopes, not wanting to make this more awkward.

"We could go somewhere else? If you don't like this."

[beat_death]

He hears Tosh's quiet joke, but doesn't comment on it, a quiet huff of amusement escaping from him as his eyes look over the menu. At least it's not too expensive. It's not like it was in Cardiff, here, having a decent amount of money from Torchwood and no time to really spend it. Whenever Owen had wanted to take a night on the town, price hadn't been much of an issue. These days he's actually got to worry about the sodding rent.

"No, we're here now, we might as well stay," Owen says, "besides, I don't know anywhere else, and I'm starving."

No sooner has he finished his sentence than a waitress finally makes her way to their table, and Owen's eyes linger for a moment on her skimpy outfit before ordering. "Vodka tonic, and… a cider, right?" he asks, looking to Tosh.

[did_good]

Tosh manages to roll her eyes before he glances back at her. What else should she expect, she thinks, knowing that the waitresses and staff are dressed to elicit attention. "Wine, actually. Red tonight, maybe a Pinot?"

[beat_death]

"Right then," Owen replies, closing the drinks menu and placing it back in its spot on the table, "Pinot for the lady."

By all accounts, he probably should know what she drinks, but honestly, he hadn't really been paying much attention until recently. Though, he hadn't seen much reason to until after he'd already been shot, and by then, food and drink had dropped down pretty low on Owen's list of priorities.

"So... this is you on a date."

[did_good]

"This is me on a date," she's trying to not flush, more from the fact that he's looking at her than because of the place they've chosen. Tosh looks for something to say, something that won't sound awkward and embarrassing. "This is us on a date. Suppose it had to happen eventually, just took us being stuck in a strange city."

She fails.

"I ah- How are you settling in?" Reaching for conversation Tosh settles on the mundane. It seems safer.

[beat_death]

He starts to protest, because there was a time when it nearly happened back in Cardiff, before the world fell apart and he was nearly dragged into darkness kicking and screaming. But Tosh starts up again, and he can't let the conversation carry on in that vein or he might have to shoot himself all over again.

"Oh god. No, we're not doing that," Owen says, because he sees where this is going, toward inane smalltalk that no one should ever be subjected to. It's not as if they don't know each other, that he and Tosh haven't worked together for years before this.

"Besides, I've been here longer than you have."

[did_good]

"Not by much," she points out, but it's a reflexive objection and nothing more. Tosh doesn't actually mind that he's stopped her, the conversation was heading toward the lame and she knows it's her own fault. She's just not good at this, at dating, at getting what she wants and then having any idea about what to do with it. For so long she's been focused on this point, on being on date with Owen she's never quite seen past that.

"What should we talk about?"

[beat_death]

He used to be good at this. Really. Years ago, before Torchwood— and even after, come to think of it— he was amazing at it. So why is this so bloody difficult?

They can't talk about home, he can't talk about the island, and most everything else feels like talking about work. He knew this was going to be weird from the start, and it's certainly delivered on that front.

"Not general settling in bollocks, that's for sure," Owen replies, and he glances over his shoulder for a moment, already looking for the waitress. Shouldn't she be back with their drinks by now?

"Where— where've you been keeping yourself when you're not at the shop?" he decides, because he'd like to think that even Tosh couldn't spend all of her days in that basement. Sure, there are about a million things worth studying in Darrow, but it's not as if they're living near an actual rift.

[did_good]

It's not quite talking about work, but it's still close enough that it's comfortable to Tosh. She's never been great at dating, her best run was with an alien who had issues her other with a man from the past she only saw once a year. Which, being that she worked at Torchwood wasn't that out of the ordinary. What she wasn't good at was the everyday, the normal things. Tonight she has to be, has to try.

"Making a few friends," she admits, almost sheepish. "Theoretically planning turning the town into an amusement park with one of them."

"And-" she pauses as the waitress brings their drinks, "trying to tag all the arrival locations. To see if there's any pattern."

[beat_death]

He very nearly utters thank god as the waitress hands them their drinks, instead thanking her with a 'cheers' and taking a drink straight away. Which he nearly spits right out again when Tosh answers him.

"An amusement park." he says, incredulous, but amused, "How on earth do you expect to do that?"

He ignores that second bit, because the last thing he wants to do is talk about work. There's plenty of that just about about every day: trying to work out how to take proper readings of the train station, him discretely gathering blood samples from residents (which have turned up nothing unusual, by the way).

[did_good]

Her mouth twitches, as a real smile starts to replace the forced one. "It's just maths, at least at first. Angles of motion, material stress. It's not really our forte, but we thought we might be able to manage a roller coaster. If we could find the people to build it."

It had all started as a joke with Eduardo, but the more they joke about it the more she wonders if it could work. Tosh sips her wine, appreciating the smoothness. "The materials might be an issue, but then again the place could provide. We have a boardwalk, we could turn Darrow into it's own Blackpool or Margate."

[beat_death]

"Right. So people are just going to sign on to help build an amusement park with no hope of getting paid, just for fun? That's likely," Owen replies, skeptical about the entire idea.

He'll admit, it's good she's doing something that's not just work, but it's about the most mental thing he's heard in quite some time.

[did_good]

"Who's to say they wouldn't get paid? We could put it forward to council as business proposal." It's up there on her list of mad ideas, but his skepticism sets her on edge. "Why, what have you been doing with your time?"

[beat_death]

"Hospital, mostly," Owen replies, then takes a drink from his glass. "It's weirder than I thought it'd be, having patients again."

And to be honest, he's not sure he likes it all that much. Mostly, Owen reckons the two of them are just trying to fill the void left by Torchwood. Somehow being in a place like this makes it worse, he thinks.

[did_good]

"It's been a while since they've been anything but dead. Or one of us. Or a-" Tosh cuts herself off before saying 'a dead one of us' sipping at her wine. "Is it so bad? Dealing with the people here?"

[beat_death]

"That was always the part I hated," Owen replies, "all the talking with people, answering stupid questions... sometimes I feel like I was better off with the dead ones."

Maybe it sounds a bit morbid, but it's the truth. And maybe there was no recognition for it at Torchwood, but he always felt like his work mattered more as well.

[did_good]

"It's why I worked with computers. Simpler than people." Tosh is agreeing with him until she realises how it makes her sound. Not that it matters, really, he knows how awkward he could be. "And then I ended up with you lot."

[beat_death]

"Don't really think it's the same thing," he says, though he frowns, not entirely sure he believes the words that have come out of his own mouth. But his reasons for becoming a doctor were different.

He hadn't been running from anything, for one, if that's what Tosh means.

[did_good]

She wasn't running either, not really. It was more a situation of doing what she was good at, and people weren't that thing. Things changed, she knows that now. Jack changed her, and Torchwood. Tosh still wouldn't win MIss Congeniality, but she was better than she was, at least most of the time.

"We should get out more," she decides, announcing it to him. "Listen to us. Work, more work. There's a whole city here to explore."

[beat_death]

"I get out plenty," Owen protests, though truthfully, a good deal of the time he's not at the hospital or at the shop is spent in. Granted, he's not always alone, but he's in.

"Have you been by the museum yet?"

He hasn't been all the way through it yet, but he reckons it might interest Tosh.

[did_good]

"I haven't," Tosh admits, fingers wrapped around the stem of her glass. "In fact, I didn't realise there was a museum. I made it to the library."

[beat_death]

He's not surprised at Tosh easily finding the library. Seems like the sort of thing she probably did her second day there.

"Doing some research on the locals or just bored?" he asks, then takes another sip of his drink.

[did_good]

"A bit of both. I wanted to see what sort of history books they had." The answer was largely unremarkable ones. Darrow seemed a fairly uninteresting history wise, almost suspiciously so, as if it were unreal. Which, she supposes, it is. "In the end I ended up with a few bad novels. Mystery, crime, that sort of thing."

[beat_death]

"Museum's a bit dull anyway," Owen replies, finishing off his drink and then looking round to see if he can catch the eye of their waitress. He's really not one to put food and sex together so directly, so hopefully they can actually manage a meal before the women really get started with the performance.

"Bunch of stuff that supposedly happened to people none of us have ever heard of. Makes you wonder if any of it ever actually happened."

[did_good]

"Sort of like the history. It was unremarkable, but completely so." It was frustrating, knowing the museum was the same. "Did they have a geology section? It's harder to lie with rocks."

The waitress comes by and Tosh quiets, pointing at the fish and asking for more wine though she's drank this glass too quickly.

[beat_death]

"Didn't really think to look," Owen says, though it's a brilliant idea and something worth looking into, whether or not the artifacts there are actually as old as they claim to be. There's no telling how long before they all arrived the city even existed in the first place.

He's about to tell her as much when the waitress turns up again, and he reckons it's probably not the best idea, talking about their skepticism of the city with one of them around.

"She'll have the fish, I'll have the steak— medium— and we could both do with drink refills, thanks," he says quickly, hoping she'll be off straightaway.

[did_good]

She's content with his order, especially for the order for more drinks. Those are very welcome. Once the waitress goes, she turns back to look at Owen, "So... rocks at the museum. Maybe we could go look?"