Dated 12/24

[beat_death]

"What r u doing? I'm coming over" he texts Tosh, out of the blue. She says she's working, but by the time he looks at his messages for her response, he's already on his way over.

It's Christmas Eve, and as much as Owen's tried to ignore the holiday season since it began, it's difficult to completely block out as it draws nearer. And as much as he doesn't give a toss about Christmas— considering he hasn't had much of a reason to properly celebrate it for years— even he doesn't think he wants to end up drinking alone on Christmas Eve.

It's not long before he turns up at Tosh's, a bottle of whisky in a shopping bag, and a small inconspicuous wrapped package tucked into the pocket of his jacket.

At least he's not the only one who would have been spending tonight alone.

Comments

[did_good]

It's not at all a surprise to find him at her door, not after the text and the lack of response from him after. She sighs before unlatching it, but inside she's happy to see him. It's lonely this time of year, and he's the person she's closest with -- cares about most in this place.

"Came to work?" She asks, eyebrow quirked. There are chinese food containers scattered on the counter, too much food for herself mostly because she's intended the leftovers for her Christmas lunch. "Or..."

[beat_death]

"No, not for work," Owen says, and he frowns a bit as he walks in. They've both grown used to not getting holidays off like regular people, but it's always been a bit different for them in Darrow, hasn't it?

"Think we could both do with a night off." He sets his shopping bag on the counter and raises an eyebrow at all the food there. "Expecting someone else?"

[did_good]

"I ordered extra. For lunch tomorrow," she adds sheepishly, even though it means admitting she's actually planned to spend the whole time alone. She's happy to see him, happy that he's not here for work. "But if you're hungry?"

[beat_death]

"You've ordered from the one place that probably will be open on Christmas," Owen comments, though there's a bit of levity to his tone.

"I could eat," he goes on to say as he takes the bottle of whisky out of the bag, "Where do you keep your glasses again?"

[did_good]

"But I didn't want them to have to come twice." She pulls out a set of chopsticks and a plate, motioning next to the fridge when he asks. Really, it's that Tosh didn't want it to seem like she was home alone on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, even just to the delivery guy.

[beat_death]

He looks where she indicates, and grabs two glasses, setting them on the counter and pouring them both two fingers' worth.

"I think they'd eventually get over it," he replies, not catching what Tosh not wanting to order two days in a row might mean. "Is this the place that does the good dumplings?"

[did_good]

The drink is welcome, grabbing a glass after she sets down the plate and chopsticks. Tosh takes a sip before answering. "They might, but I mightn't. They're there. Prawn and chive and pork dim sim."

She settles on a stool with her own set of chopsticks, happy to pluck what she wants from the box. "So... no work then?"

[beat_death]

"Whatever it is'll keep for a day or two," Owen says, sliding the plate and chopsticks nearer to him after she sets them down. He plucks a dumpling straight from the box and pops it in his mouth, talking as he chews.

"What is it you're working on anyway?" He really hopes it's not something boring, something he'll regret having asked about.

[did_good]

"Plans, actually. I've been going over city records." She's fairly excited about it too, and as much as they've said they'll wait, she goes to grab her laptop to set on the counter. Mitsi wakes up at the movement, and Tosh shushes her, pulling up a set of underground plans on the screen. "I think I've found what we need."

[beat_death]

"Yeah? What's that?" Owen asks, and as much as he doesn't really want to worry about work today, he can't help but be interested. He's wanted to be done with the shop for ages now.

Owen pops another dumpling in his mouth, walking over to look at the screen from over Tosh's shoulder.

[did_good]

She's slipped her glasses on, pointing at section of plans that are incomplete seemingly from decades before. "If you look here, there's extensions of the subway in process. An interchange leading out of the city into the country, up near the north. Now-"

A few quick taps, and a new set of plans appears. "There. These are the modern plans. None of the lines even go near it."

[beat_death]

"Think it's been abandoned, then?" he asks, but it sounds promising. Much more so than the shop or a warehouse or any of the other rubbish options they've batted about since they decided it was time for a change.

Something like that'll be out of the way, there'll be more space, and there's less chance of someone stumbling upon it all by accident.

"This... this could be brilliant."

[did_good]

"It depends how far along the construction they got. Is it just a plan, or did they get partway through construction? But it's worth a look, isn't it?" Tosh looks up to him, smiling even though she's a million practicalities and reasons it might not work running through her mind. "We could go this week sometime."

[beat_death]

"Sounds like a good idea," Owen says, because the worst that could happen is they're stuck where they are now and have to keep searching. They'll be no worse off for checking it out. It'll be disappointing if it turns out to be nothing, but he can't help but get his hopes up at least a little.

"Good work, Tosh."

[did_good]

'Good," she smiles as she shuts her laptop, turning toward him. "Now all we can do is wait and see."

[beat_death]

"Not gonna miss it, are you?" Owen asks, thinking that Tosh might not be as keen to leave that place behind her as he is. It's her cover in Darrow, after all. He's got the hospital-- as flimsy a story as he thinks it might be sometimes-- but he doesn't really know what she does with her time when she's not at the shop: either in the basement or pretending she's a shopkeeper.

[did_good]

She shrugs, knowing that she's spent a lot of time at that silly shop. "A little bit, but I was thinking... There's a university and a college here. I could teach, couldn't I?"

[beat_death]

He knocks back the whisky in his glass like it's a shot and walks over to the bottle to pour up another as Tosh talks. He didn't turn up tonight with the expectation of getting drunk, but it can't hurt.

"Teach what?" he asks.

[did_good]

"Math, computer science. Even physics if it came down to it," she adds with a shrug. It doesn't matter much what she would teach, only that it would leave her with a better schedule and cover. She sips at her glass, holding it out to Owen to top up. "It's better than the high school. That's too many hours."

[beat_death]

"Christ. Students," Owen says, and he tops off her drink after he fills his own up again, "I don't know if they'd be better or worst than patients."

Though, when he thinks about it, the ones he's had in Darrow haven't been so horrible. It's mostly the other doctors at the hospital that Owen can't stand. At least half of them seem like they're completely incompetent most of the time.

[did_good]

"They're better than customers," she points out to him, taking a swig from the glass and grimacing slightly. It burns in larger amounts, she has to remember that, the warmth spreading through her belly. "Isn't it?"

[beat_death]

"Touche," Owen says, and the bit of a grin that brings to his face disappears when Tosh grimaces at her drink.

"Sorry. I should have brought something else. Some wine."

[did_good]

"No, it's fine," Tosh insists, taking another sip. It isn't so bad, and the more she sips at it, the less it burns. At least, the less it burns her mouth, and the more it seems to warm her completely. "I'm just not used to it."

[beat_death]

"Alright, then," Owen says, trying not to sound too pleased, "No better time to get pissed than Christmas, I suppose."

And not just because hanging about Tosh's flat is really the only plan he's made for the holiday, sad state of affairs that it is.

[did_good]

Truthfully, there's win in the cupboard and beer in the fridge. But she feels like drinking what he's brought, the harder liquor more likely to relax her. "I'd think New Years would be the absolute best time, wouldn't you? More than Christmas, that is."

Tosh doesn't realise he's being rhetorical until after she's spoken, shaking her head as if to clear her mind. "Pretend I didn't say that."