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Owen's gone out for a drink alone tonight, but it's not as if he's exactly hiding from people he knows. He's been known to frequent this bar, so anyone who might be out looking for him would probably think to find him there if they couldn't get him on his mobile.

Really, it's been weeks now, so he should be over it. As much as Owen's certain it's just something having to do with the way Darrow works, he can't help but think it's just Jack's modus operandi. He's gone when you need him and turns up again just when you've worked out how to manage without him. He'll be back, eventually, and Owen really shouldn't be spending his nights drinking and contemplating it.

But here he is, and here's his half-empty glass.

Sometimes things in Darrow seem so normal that it makes him think he's gone mad.

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[Continued from here]

For a moment, he's struck by how bold Tosh seems compared to the last time— the only time, really— that they've done this. Not that they were fumbling teenagers on New Year's Eve, but it wasn't like this in the least. Not that Owen thinks it's a bad thing. Besides, Tosh has got good tits.

One hand against her hip, he brings up the other to her breast as she kisses him. He thinks that he might still have a condom somewhere in his wallet, but is torn between wanting to check and wanting to stay right where he is for now.