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Title:  With a Little Help…
Kink:  shaving/depilation
Spoilers for the episode Captain Jack Harkness
Disclaimer: I do not own, or make any money from the use of, these characters.
Notes: written for a square on my kink_bingo card



            “I’m taking you home,” Tosh says.

            Owen wonders, for a moment, when Tosh became so self-confident.  Whatever happened while she and Jack were trapped in 1941, it had given her courage.  Not just to push Ianto aside to deal with Jack herself, but to announce she is taking him home, rather than ask hesitantly if she could.  Not that Owen needs someone to take him home.  Despite the bullet wound in his shoulder and the pain medication, he is capable of taking care of himself.  No, he really doesn’t need someone to drive him, but if Tosh is going to insist, he isn’t going to argue.

            He will argue, however, when she insists on coming inside and looking after him for the night.  “I can take care of myself,” he tells her, once when they get out of the car and again at the front door of his flat.

            Tosh is still holding the emergency overnight bag she had retrieved from the boot of her car.  She stares at Owen for a moment before setting her bag down and turning towards the kitchen.  “I’ll just go put the kettle on.”

            “Fine.  I’m going for a shower,” Owen tells her.

            “At least let me help with the dressings,” Tosh says taking a step towards Owen. 

            “I told you I can take care of myself,” Owen growls.  Tosh steps back and raises both hands to indicate surrender before turning back towards the kitchen. 

Owen watches her go and shakes his head.  Which makes him feel suddenly dizzy.  Too much pain medication and too little endorphins in his system.  But, he is determined not to ask for help.  He doesn’t need help.  He doesn’t need anything from anyone.  He can take care of himself. 

As long as he can remain standing upright long enough to wash the dirt off his body and shave.  Or maybe just brush his teeth and shave.  Neither of which should be too difficult to accomplish one handed.

            Standing in front of the mirror, Owen realizes that this isn’t going to be easy as he thought.  It isn’t really the pain or even the effects of the pain medication he has taken, although those certainly don’t help the situation.  No, it’s the sudden knowledge that he does need help.  Between fumbling with shaving cream can and not being able to turn the tap on because his hand is too slick from soap, he knows that there is no way he can shave, or do much of anything else without moving his injured shoulder.  He slams his fist down on the counter top in frustration, only to look up and see Tosh watching him from outside the door he hadn’t bothered to close. 

            “Here,” she says simply, taking the razor out of his hand.  She moves him over to sit on the edge of the bathtub, then puts a towel down on the floor in front of him.  She rinses a flannel under hot water and kneels on the towel, gently washing Owen’s face.  Tosh smiles up at Owen as she applies shaving cream to his face and neck, her delicate fingers soft against his skin. 

            “Tosh, why are you doing this?” Owen asks in a whisper.

            “Because you’d do the same for any of us,” Tosh answers without hesitation.  “Because you have done this for all of us.  There is no way you would ever let anyone of us out of your sight if we’d been shot.”

            “I might, if it were Ianto.”

            “No, you wouldn’t,” Tosh says with conviction.  She looks Owen in the eye and smiles again.  She flicks a finger across Owen’s nose, leaving a dot of shaving cream, before wiping her fingers clean.  Tosh shows Owen the razor and says, “Now hold still, I don’t want to nick you.”

            Feeling Tosh’s fingers on his skin and the slow drag of the blade down his cheek, Owen thinks there is something soothing about this, something calming.  Something caring and intimate. 

Owen reaches out brushes his fingers across Tosh’s cheek, watching as she closes her eyes and gives a small sigh.  Maybe accepting help isn’t such a bad thing.



Date: 2010-08-30 06:21 pm (UTC)
ext_3690: Ianto Jones says, "Won't somebody please think of the children?!?" (moody)
From: [identity profile]
“I might, if it were Ianto.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Tosh says with conviction.


Date: 2010-08-31 01:13 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Yeah. He may be difficult to get along with, but I think Owen is a doctor first, even when he refuses to admit it.

Date: 2010-08-30 07:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I like what you have done with Tosh here, it really works.

Date: 2010-08-31 01:14 am (UTC)

Date: 2010-08-30 09:57 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] bk_forever
This is so Owen, stubbornly refusing help, determined to cope on his own even though it should be obvious to him that he can't.

I love conident, take-charge Tosh here and she's right about Owen, he takes his job as a doctor very seriously, he definitely would take care of any member of the team who'd been shot, just the way Tosh is. It's just that Owen, like most doctors, is a terrible patient!

Date: 2010-08-31 01:37 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Thank you. I think Owen's pride was hurt too much just by his being shot for him to damage it further by admitting that he needs help.

Date: 2011-03-01 06:05 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
That's lovely.


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