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d8rkmessngrI'm back! Just a prequel to "Detours" as I kickstart the "Nine Months to Heaven" series. They'll be one-shots of mpreg randomness with no particular order. Just note the title for timeline. u
Title: Month 0: Sex Education
Author: d8rkmessngr
Rating: PG-13, Complete
Pairing: Rhys/Gwen, briefly implied past Jack/OMC, Janto (of course, silly)
Summary: It all boils down to biology…
Universe: Nine Months to Heaven. Stems from Storm'verse, however, this might not be fanon come season 2 in March. So it's an AU of er-my Storm 'verse AU. Confused yet? LOL.
Warning: Angst, H/C, MPreg, off screen child death mention, discussions on pregnancy termination, Owen's potty mouth, and…smut-less (gasp! Yes, it's true!)
Disclaimer: TW is owned by RTD and BBC. Just borrowing custody for a tick.
Author's Note: These stories in this 'verse may be written out of order as they come when inspiration hits me with a mallet. LOL. Dedicated to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
teachwriteslash for creating my mpreg obsession in the first place. Much love and graditude to bookwrm89 for the beta.
Master Fic List: here
The first clue Owen Harper thought something was wrong with Jack Harkness was when Jack opted out from his usual glass of water and substitute it for juice. Orange juice, to be exact.
"Thought the only thing that goes in your mouth is water. Since when do you drink juice? You all right? You look a bit peaked," Owen commented as he entered the conference room and caught Jack peeling apart his sandwich—appetite was rubbish these days too—before twisting the cap off a large bottle of orange juice.
Jack paused mid-pour into his glass. He grinned at Owen.
"No." Jack looked a little too bright-eyed and gleeful in his response. "Not just water goes into my mouth."
Owen stared at the toothy grin and felt a burn slowly creeping up his ears.
"That's disgusting," Owen snapped and snatched his lunch on his way out, Jack snickering like a brat behind him.
By the time his shoes thumped down the steps to the main area, Owen realized Jack had completely diverted him from the second part of his question.
The second clue that piqued Owen's curiosity was Jack dozing lightly on the couch inside his office at odd hours. It was clear Ianto had been in at some point. Jack's boots were always unlaced and set on the floor in a neat standing display of readiness. A pillow would usually be tucked under Jack's head as well as under his ankles. The thin afghan from Jack's underground hatchway always found its way pulled up to Jack's chin.
"Jack, here's the autopsy reports on—Oh." Owen grimaced, four steps too late to realize Jack was not on his desk, but once again stretched across the couch.
Jack raised his head and blinked sleepily at Owen.
"Sorry," Owen muttered. He waved his folders in the air. "Reports."
"All right," Jack mumbled and his head dropped back on the pillow.
Owen frowned and before he knew it, he was standing over Jack with his arms folded across his chest.
Jack opened his left eye and effectively glowered at Owen with it.
"Voyeur much?" Jack grumbled.
"It's fourteen hundred," Owen announced.
"Good for you. And Ianto said you couldn't tell time," Jack yawned.
"He said what? Why the little—" Owen stopped short. He glared at the drowsy grin Jack offered, both eyes shut again.
"You've been napping everyday." Owen poked Jack with a finger on his forehead.
"Ouch. So?" Jack swatted Owen's hand away.
"So, that's not like you. Come on, think it's time for a check-up, Captain."
It was hard to haul up a man who doesn't want to go anywhere; they're all limbs and weight. Which is why Owen hated going to the bars with his teammates or friends from his old A&E. Bloody lightweights, all of them. He'd always end up carrying one person or another and dumping him or her into the back of a taxi. Jack simply batted Owen's hand away from his arm.
"I'm just tired," Jack yawned again. He waved Owen off. "I'm fine."
"Sure. You looking like a zombie for days and napping like a vampire is a picture of good health."
"Sounds more like a bad horror movie," Jack quipped.
"Come on." It felt like he was coaxing a child. Nothing new. Everyone here acted more like they were five sometimes.
"A little blood work, a chest X-ray, just to clear things up."
Jack opened his eyes now. His right brow arched.
"I could clear things up right now." Jack grinned, his brow waggling up at Owen.
"I'm just worn out." Jack raised his arms carefully above his head and stretched with a very big yawn.
Owen scowled, not sure if Jack was just trying to piss him off. Jack was very good at it. "You're fucking kidding me."
"Well, I wasn't doing the—"
"All right!" Owen snapped. "If you drop dead from some weird alien disease from that ruddy Rift, don't come crawling to me!"
As Owen stormed off, Jack's baffled voice rang out behind him.
"How can I come crawling to you if I'm dead?"
The third clue really wasn't much of a clue at all.
Owen woke up this morning and remembered something he should have done in his autopsy the night before. Something, in fact, that might explain why those people in Devon were suddenly swinging axes at their spouses.
It was an ungodly hour, but once the idea formed in Owen's head, it wouldn't go away. It was early enough that Owen didn't recognize the morning register clerk when he purchased his breakfast sandwich and a large coffee—it was too early to hope Jonesy came in as well.
It was no surprise that the Hub lights were on. Jack once claimed he didn't need much sleep which his naps contradicted. Owen thought their Captain would have been in Ianto's flat a little longer though so his steps slowed as soon as the cog doors opened.
"Morning?" Owen called out as he stood within the cage in front of the cogwheel. He wasn't particularly keen in walking in on them again and a disheveled and flushed Ianto Jones usually meant Owen needed to seek refuge in his medical bay. He doesn’t want to see what they can get up to.
It was a relief that there was no answer, but there was a nagging twitch inside nevertheless, so Owen strained to hear anything.
Which was why he heard the Weevil moan in the main cells.
It was a little sound and usually, the Weevils always howled for one reason or another. It was annoying during the day; Janet in particular could get very vocal for no reason at all which made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. This time, however, she sounded more purposeful, more like calling for attention.
Owen took the stairs to his left down to the cells. Janet wasn't so much howling as she was grunting and woofing like a sheepdog. She could be heard pacing within the confines of her chamber.
"It's not feeding time yet," Owen grumbled as he walked down the dim hallway, "You're going to have to wait for your boyfriend Jonesy to feed you whatever kibble he—"
Owen halted in his tracks, frozen at the sight of Jack slumped across from Janet's cell, a smelly patch of vomit on the floor.
Janet, hunched forward and pressed up against the glass, simply pawed the glass enclosure and huffed when she sighted Owen.
"Told you something was wrong," Owen griped as he crouched down by Jack. "Oi." A shake to the shoulders didn't yield any reaction. He caught Jack when the captain simply slumped forward.
Jack's pulse seemed all right even though there was a fine sheen of sweat across Jack's brow. He sat up against a chair set there to observe the Weevils, his legs folded awkwardly under him, telling Owen the descent wasn't particularly graceful. But he wasn't dead and the bloke wasn't bleeding anywhere.
Owen checked behind him at the stairs. He groaned as he thought of the distance. "Bloody Harkness. You owe me hazard pay for this."
"Right," Owen remarked as he stood up and folded his arms in front of him. "I guess someone's going to have that check-up after all."
Janet only gave a soft bark in response.
Owen whistled as he selected a scalpel. Hm, maybe the number ten. Owen sorted the curved edge and pointed blades and set them on a tray, which he swiveled to float over Jack's legs. He kicked the IV stand closer to Jack's gurney and tapped the inside of Jack's left elbow until he found a proper vessel.
"Just a short nap," Owen muttered as he tied a rubber strap as tight as possible around the arm, "Then I'll cut it out and get you sorted."
A hand grabbed his right just before he could slip the port in.
"W'at are you 'oing?" Jack rasped, his eyes half-mast.
Owen shook off the grip. "No worries. Just a little anesthesia before surgery."
Jack's eyes were wide open now. "S-surgery?" Jack croaked. "What the 'ell for? I thought you 'ere 'oking a'out d-dissecting me."
"No," Owen huffed, "I'm not planning on dissecting you." Although honestly, Owen was still miffed when he proposed the idea to Jack last month and it was rejected: by Ianto and Jack. "I plan to get that alien life form out of you."
"What?" Jack's head shot up and so would have the rest of him if Owen hadn't placed a splayed hand flat on his chest.
Hand still on Jack so the Captain wouldn't bolt, Owen stepped aside so he could see the projected screen high above on the wall. The bright colored display showed all the bits a human male should have with only one addition.
"That," Owen pointed to the shadow pressed up against Jack's stomach and a dot that looked wedged in the lower quadrant of the shadow.
Jack stared at it speechless.
"See?" Owen said with a smug grin. "Too small for me to scan but it looks to be organic. Probably because of its size, we didn't get a Rift alert. Looks like a sac of some sorts, fluid, and that looks to be…" Owen squinted. He reached over and tapped on his keyboard to zoom in the image."
"Could be a parasite of some sorts," Owen guessed. "I see some sort of neural groove, so it's a species with a spinal column." Owen pursed his lips as he considered Jack. "You remember being bitten by anything? Ingested anything? Blackouts?"
Jack was propped up on his elbows now. He stared at the screen with a sort of mix of horror and something else Owen couldn't quite pinpoint.
"No," Jack said after a few stunned moments, "nothing like that."
Owen turned back to the screen as well. "No? Then how the hell did a parasite get in you?"
"It's not a parasite," Jack said. He sounded weary all of the sudden.
It isn't? Owen screwed up his face and stared at the projection again. He breathed out sharply through his nose when he couldn't zoom in more.
"Then what the hell is it?"
"That's a human embryo." Jack sagged back on his elbows. "I'm pregnant."
Ah, makes sense. Owen nodded as he folded his arms. "Yea, yea, I can see the notochord…" Owen's eyes widened.
"You're what?"
Owen nearly missed the stool he tried to sit on. He stared at Jack. Jack stared at the screen.
"You're…you're…" Owen swallowed and tried again because it was possible he just had a brain fart because surely Jack didn't just say…
"I'm pregnant."
Bloody hell.
Owen opened his mouth. He closed it. Then he opened it again. Owen lifted up a hand then forgot what he was going to do with it and dropped it.
"Is this one of those 'can't stay dead' things?" Owen managed out.
"No." Jack sat up, pushed the surgical tray away and twisted around to face Owen. "More of a timeline sort of thing."
Owen raised an eyebrow at Jack. Jack looked pretty normal for a man up the duff. Then again, when was normal an adjective attached to Jack Harkness? If Owen thought about it, this really shouldn't have surprised him. Not after Abbadon.
"Okay," Owen drawled, "considering what little you do tell us and from what I know about medical developments, I'm guessing a future timeline? How far in the future?" At Jack's look, Owen sighed. "Right. You can't tell me that."
Jack merely stared back with a blank expression that made him want to flip the tray and thwack Jack in the head with it. Just a few times to make him feel better.
Owen narrowed his eyes at Jack. The scan had showed all the appropriate bits, all the proper levels of blood, temperature and oxygen levels.
"What?" Jack snapped, still managing to look indignant in his hospital gown and trousers.
"You're a man," Owen told Jack with a wave towards him.
"Nice to know medical school wasn't a waste of time."
"I'm laughing on the inside," Owen retorted. He gestured with both hands now at Jack, who looked at them mildly amused.
"You're a man. You got all the expected parts. How the hell did you make a baby?"
"Well Owen, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much—"
"I don't need a biology lesson!" Owen snapped.
"Then stop asking the obvious!" Jack barked back.
"O-obvious? You're a bloke! You're pregnant! Pregnant with…" Owen stopped short.
Jack darkened. "Don't even think of asking whose baby it is," Jack growled.
Owen blinked. Jack had curled his fists around the edge of the gurney. The captain looked about ready to launch at him like a lion.
"Okay," Owen said slowly. He stole a glance to the monitors and sure enough, the scales shot up. "Calm down—"
"I am calm!"
"You're shouting," Owen pointed out.
Jack paused, looked down at his hands and deflate. "Oh."
When it didn't look like Jack was contemplating retiring Owen permanently, Owen spared a glance to the screen. All the gauges quietly slid back down with the exception of Jack's bp.
"What," Owen gestured towards Jack, then the monitor, "was that?" Owen grabbed his handheld scanner and motioned it up and down Jack for secondary readings. He pursed his lips. "You're not going to get…hormonal on me?" He raised a palm up at Jack's glower. "I'm just asking, mate. As your doctor. All right?"
"I don't get hormonal," Jack bit out, "I get…last time I got a little…temperamental."
Owen checked the display above them again. "Would explain the sudden spike in heart rate and blood pressure," Owen mused. He leaned back, his arms folded again, thoughtful. "I'm guessing adrenaline because male estrogen levels are usually too low anyway in an average male." If everything worked that way for Jack, that is. Owen reviewed back their conversation.
"Hold on…last time?" Owen straightened and set down his scanner. This was getting more and more interesting. "You mean this happened before?"
"Not really." Jack's shoulders dropped lower.
The beep-beep of the projection was beginning to annoy him. Owen flicked a key at his keyboard and the display snapped shut. Suddenly, it was very quiet. Even the ruddy pterodactyl outside was saying nothing. Owen studied Jack staring at his bare feet swinging idly over the bed edge.
"Miscarriage?" Owen realized he’d guessed right when Jack stiffened.
"In my time, male pregnancies were forty percent success rate."
Ack. Owen grimaced. Not very friendly odds then "So why do it?" Owen chided himself but too late, the question came out.
Jack took a deep breath and for a moment, it didn't look like he would answer but after a long exhale, Jack replied.
"Invasion." Jack paused. "No…I would say war. We didn't just let it happen."
It was unnerving how many secrets Jack possibly knew and wouldn't share. Yet with what little Jack would offer sometimes, Owen felt both curiosity and dread. Owen sometimes wondered if it wasn't mercy more than protecting the timelines when Jack was so cryptic.
Owen furrowed his brow at what little Jack gave this time but almost immediately, it smoothed out. "Repopulation. So this was medical intervention not evolution?" That was good to know, Owen thought as he fought back the urge to pat his own abdomen.
Jack swung back around to lie back flat on the gurney. He folded his hands over his stomach. He stared at the ceiling but his eyes were glazed over in memory.
"Seemed like a good idea at the time," Jack mused, his face distant. "You think you found someone for life, agree to have a child, it doesn't work and that someone moves out before you get out of ICU."
Owen wanted to growl. Man or woman, that was a shitty thing to do. "Probably better you know how he was then than ten years later."
Jack barked a laugh. It didn't sound like he thought it was funny though. "Yea," Jack said hoarsely, "you have a point."
Owen was pulling out a clipboard. "So, that shadowy mass?"
"Womb. Artificial transplant."
Owen hemmed as he made notes. He had a feeling computers wouldn't be a good option for this. "And how long does it usually take to come full term?"
"I'm told nine months?"
The pen stopped mid-sentence. "Told? How long before you…lost the fetus?" It was cold, Owen knew that, but calling the lost a baby he always found was worse.
Jack's response was too quiet to even echo in the domed medical bay. "Just under six months."
Six months? Owen made a quick calculation. Christ. "So you knew…"
"Girl," Jack answered in that same small voice that was making Owen feel like a heel. "The eggs are usually pre-fertilized to produce a high probability of girls."
"For repopulation, right," Owen muttered. "Wait…Egg? But you…" Owen turned on the elevated display again and Jack's readings with all his very male scans and very male X-rays flitted through the screen like a macabre picture book.
"If you're looking for ovaries," Jack called out with a hint of his usual smirk, "you're not going to find any. It was a genetically replicated egg with my DNA." Jack snorted, frustrated. "What I don't get is how did this happen?" Jack sat up cross-legged on the medical bed. "I…I got pregnant once, I pretty much thought never again, but another egg was implanted in me but that was…" Jack paused as he did a count in his head, "lots of years ago! I don't know much about the process but eggs can't last this long, right?"
"I don't know." Owen waved his clipboard at Jack. "You're a bloody anomaly! I—Wait. When you die, your wounds usually mend themselves, right?"
Jack nodded even as he gave Owen a puzzled frown. "Life threatening, my death would revert my body back to the moment before I—" Jack's eyes widened. "Ah crap." He slapped a hand over his face. "And after that, most of the times Ianto and I—"
"I really don't need you to finish that sentence!" Owen said hastily. "Really. Please." As a doctor, he didn't need to know everything. "Although, maybe I should be sitting you two down for one of them safe sex learning videos."
Jack glared at him and Owen wasn't sure if it was from the pregnancy or Jack truly getting pissed. Owen cleared his throat loudly. Why chance it?
"All right. We know how then," Owen said briskly. "Now, what to do?"
Jack faced back the wall. "Can I see her?" Jack asked quietly.
"Huh? Yea sure, though there isn't much yet." Owen brought up the right display and found the initial scan. He zoomed in on what he now knew was the womb—bloody hell, now he's seen it all.
"From the neural groove and size, I would say three weeks at best." Owen gave Jack a quick up down. "Your symptoms came on pretty early."
"They usually do," Jack mumbled absently, his eyes on the scan. "Last time, I was sick from day one. Pretty bad actually because my body didn't recognize the fetus until months later and only after treatment." Jack shrugged. "Immunosuppressant or something of that kind." Jack made a sound. "At the time, I wasn't paying much attention."
"Your current healing abilities might have something to do with that." Owen made some more notes. "I think if you can tell me what you can remember of what they did, we could adapt something to ensure a safe bir—"
"I can't have her."
Owen's eyes zipped back to Jack. "What did you say?"
"I…" Jack's face crumbled a little. "I can't have this baby."
Owen gaped at Jack. "What the hell are you talking about? Jack!" Owen grabbed Jack's arm as their captain hopped off the bed. "Now hold on, you can't be suggesting…"
"No one can know," Jack said, his eyes stayed glued on Owen even as he shook free from Owen's grip.
"Wait. What the hell are you saying, Jack?"
Jack stared past Owen at the display. A swirl of grief, regret and a mess of emotions contorted Jack's face.
"I can't have her."
And Jack left, up the stairs, his eyes overly bright. Owen knew this time; it had nothing to do with hormones.
Maybe it was the tears or the fact that his male employer was pregnant. Whatever it was, Owen didn't immediately go after Jack. He sat there, on his stool, slack jawed and staring at the screen. He thought about how small the cluster of divided cells looked, thought about how it was originally created for the sole purpose to revive the human race, thought about how the child might look when he or she grows up. Would the kid be as broody as Jonesy? Or a ruddy flirt like Jack?
Then, Owen became mad. Very mad. He barely saw the stairs as he stormed up to Jack's office but before he barged in, he caught sight of Jack by his desk, his head in his hands, dressed once more in his shirt and braces, the hospital gown lumped up and stuffed in the refuse bin. Owen stopped short. Suddenly, just like he was down in the medical bay, Owen felt stunned stupid.
"How long are you going to just stand there?" Jack rasped after a few minutes. He never looked up.
"I won't do it. I won't terminate the pregnancy," Owen said quietly when he entered the office. It was still too early and no one was here yet, but his declaration didn't seem like it should be out loud. Everything around him felt stifled like the very atmosphere was holding its breath.
It would have been better if Jack reacted with anger or disappointment, but instead, he only sound resigned.
"Male pregnancy doesn't happen for centuries," Jack sighed, his head still in his hands. "Not for a while and not even on this planet." Jack paused as if realizing now just how much he said.
"I wasn't thinking of ringing up the Daily Mail." Owen scoffed. "Despite what you think, you don't make very interesting news, Jack. I think we can keep it a secret. Bloody hell, you kept it a secret for this long."
Jack huffed in an aborted laugh. "I do like my secrets," Jack said bitterly.
A light popped in his head. Owen dropped down on a chair. "Ah." Owen made a face. "Let me guess…he doesn't know either."
"Not exactly something you can bring up in a conversation," Jack sighed. "I can't really say 'hey, you know that not dying thing? Guess what? You thought that was weird; I can get pregnant, too. Coffee?'"
Owen bared his teeth in a grimace. "I see what you mean."
"Besides, I thought this couldn't happen again!"
An angry swing of an arm swept across Jack's desk and sent papers and pens skidding off the edge to the floor. As soon as Jack did that, though, his face had twisted to shock and regret.
Owen studied the papers on the floor, his lips pursed.
"You know," Owen said finally, "These next nine months are going to be messy with your hormones all buggered."
Jack glared at the floor as if the papers were to blame.
"I can't have it. The timeline—"
"Bollocks," Owen dismissed it with a snort, "We kept loads of things secret in Torchwood because of timelines and the universe hasn't imploded yet." Owen watched Jack stoop down to pick up the scattered work. He didn't offer to help—he didn't do it—but kept an eye on Jack. Last thing they needed was another header to the floor. Owen wasn't going to drag his arse all the way back to his medical bay again.
Jack was taking unusual care of piling everything from his crouched position. Owen studied the hunched posture.
"That's not the real reason, is it?" Owen asked quietly.
The papers stilled in Jack's hands. Jack's head dipped lower out of sight.
"What if the baby's like me?" Jack said in a small voice. Hidden besides his large desk, all Owen could see was the back of Jack's head. "What if she inherits my immortality?"
"Do we know it can be passed on?" Owen felt a cold, heavy lump sitting in his gut when Jack shook his head. "Then we shouldn't make any prognosis yet."
"I don't want to risk this curse on a child," Jack argued as he stood and set the restacked paperwork on the desk.
"Who said it was a curse?" Owen argued. "This way, the kid will be with you—"
"She can't die, Owen!" Jack shouted, his arms in the air. "Do you have any idea what that means for her? That there can only be grief and pain forever for her? Do you think she'll thank me for that?"
It was something Owen knew was what waited for Jack, but he'd shoved it to the back of his mind with his memories. He didn't like thinking about the inevitable and in a way, perhaps he'd always thought he would live forever, too, somehow. It was easy to forget sometimes, under the exuberance Jack displays with them, that life is limited, that only Jack was truly eternal.
"What makes you think terminating the pregnancy now will resolve it then?" Owen pointed out. "If the baby inherited your immortality, you think an abortion will fix it?"
It was obvious by the way Jack's face paled that the thought hadn't occurred to him.
"Damn it." Jack's eyes glistened and he covered his face once more with his hands and sat back in his chair. He sniffed.
Owen scratched his jaw and wondered if he should fetch a tissue.
"And this is not me being hormonal," Jack muttered from behind his hands.
Owen snorted. "I wasn't going to say that. This normal for you. You're a weepy sort of fellow. Always were, bawling over Tosh's DVD last week, even."
A pen lobbed at his head, bounced and landed on the floor. "Hey, it was a bad day and it was a sad movie!"
"Bloody hell, Jack. The movie was called Titanic, didn't that give you an idea what would happen?"
Jack lifted his head up. He glowered. "Like I said, bad day and he accidentally made decaffeinated that morning, too!"
"Probably just as well," Owen shot back. He levered off the chair to stand by Jack. "No more caffeine for you."
"What?" Jack dropped his hands. He looked scandalized. "You're not serious?"
Owen tapped a finger to his chin before he waggled the same finger at a wide-eyed Jack Harkness. "We should start scheduling regular scans and you need to tell me everything about how—" Owen stopped. His brow wrinkled as he studied Jack. "How's this baby going to come out anyway? Oi. Don't tell me…" Owen's eyes grew to circles and his finger pointed down.
"Owen!" Jack now looked like he was tempted to bite that finger but thankfully, he only slapped it away. "It's not coming out that way and I'm not going to suddenly grow a vagina!"
"Breasts?" Owen made a rude grabby gesture with both hands and Jack growled.
"No!" Jack folded his arms in front of him. "It'll be done by Cesarean!"
"Oh." Owen was oddly disappointed and relieved. "All right. If we're going to do this the twenty first century way."
"I didn't say I was having her," Jack pointed out.
"I think you have," Owen told him. He grinned as he walked out the office. "You called it a her."
Owen didn't need to turn around to know there was a stunned look on Jack's face.
Three days later…
There were times Owen wished he could indulge in the overall temptation to shoot Jack Harkness. Again. It already happened before and Jack was fine. Just one little bullet in the arse. A sharp ouch to knock some sense back in Jack.
Today was one of those times.
If Owen didn't think he would be skinned alive by Gwen, Tosh and Teaboy there, Owen would have pulled out the Glock in his shoulder holster and fire. If it didn't kill the baby, that is.
Every time Ianto went into Jack's office, Owen waited by his workstation to catch Jonesy's reaction when Ianto left. But Teaboy always came out appearing just as bland as before, sometimes with an untouched tray—he was going to have to prescribe prenatal vitamins to Jack—or a stack of paperwork Ianto needed to file. Ianto didn't have the shook look of a bloke who was just informed he was going to be a parent. There were times, Owen wanted to lock them both down in Jack's quarters but given the numerous times he walked in—accidentally, of course—on the two, talking wouldn't be done.
Jack ignored Owen's emails, walked by his glares every time he went out on a rift alert and wouldn't meet his eyes. If it weren't for the fact Jack seemed to be taking great care when he was out there, Owen would have said something to Ianto himself before their captain did something foolish like get himself killed.
There were times though…
"…jumps down from the top of the SUV and pinned the Weevil down so I could spray it. They seem to be less crazed around Jack these days otherwise I thought for sure it would have torn Jack's throat out. And then it turned out there was another one right behind him and Lord, I didn't know which to shoot at first!"
Gwen was telling Tosh about the rift activity as the tech listened with huge eyes. Her fingers were still holding onto a half bitten digestive. She hadn't put it down since Gwen started telling her about the nest of Weevils they accidentally came upon that morning. Owen sat back in his chair, legs on his station as he listened, fuming, as Gwen recounted all the stupid things a pregnant bloke really shouldn't be doing.
Engrossed, Tosh almost missed her mug until Ianto came out of nowhere and pressed it to her searching hand. Tosh shot him a grateful grin before turning back to Gwen.
"The Weevils are certainly getting very bold. Right there in the Arcade during lunch! I’ve never seen so many trolleys spilled about before! How many did you have to Retcon, Ianto?"
"Ten," Ianto answered in his usual precise way. He glanced over to Jack's office though and the mild expression wrinkled to a faint frown. He idly rearranged the plate of sandwiches on the tray he was carrying. Owen brightened when he saw the small dish of teacakes Gwen brought in from the Queen's Arcade. So that's where they went. "They all now think it was a gas pipe explosion."
"A gas pipe explosion caused all those bite and claw marks?" Tosh commented skeptically.
"Shrapnel," Ianto returned absently as he wandered over to Jack's office with the laden tray before Owen could nip the chocolate one off the tray. Damn it.
Owen scowled at Ianto as he gave a timid knock to Jack's door before entering.
Owen slid his eyes over and watched through the distorted glass but Jack only shook his head at whatever Ianto asked him and took an offered sandwich. Jack didn't take a bite though, not until Ianto seated himself on the edge of his desk. Owen grunted. At least Jack was eating something, Owen grumbled when he spied Ianto offering Jack the teacakes.
"So, you think he's telling him now?"
"Probably not," Owen muttered. His eyes widened. He started and swiveled around to find two pairs of eyes on him.
"Tell him what? W-who?" Owen stammered.
Gwen rolled his eyes. "Really, Owen, you're shit when it comes to secrets." She leaned in conspiratorially. "About the baby."
Owen nearly tipped over in his chair. He clawed the edge of his workstation to stay reasonably upright. "You two knew? H-how?"
Tosh pushed back up her glasses with a finger and gave him a smug look.
"Never try to delete CCTV footage under my watch," Tosh told him. "I always know and I'll always find it again."
Christ. Owen smacked his forehead with a palm. "Listen, girls, Jonesy doesn't know yet. All right? Jack should really be the one to tell him."
"Tell me what?"
This time, the chair did tip over and Owen was left staring at his feet still on the edge of his station.
"Wear a bell, damn it!" Owen barked at the upside down Ianto as he tried to untangle himself from the office chair. Pair of useless gits, Gwen and Tosh stared at Jonesy while Owen tried to sort out chair legs and his legs. They didn't offer to help him.
"Tell me what?" Ianto repeated. He appeared nonplussed by the fact that Owen was on the ground.
"Oh," Gwen sounded way too cheerful for his comfort, "about the dinner."
Owen could just hear the eyebrow going up on Ianto's face. "Dinner? What dinner?"
Tosh jumped in. "To Albo."
Jesus Christ, this was getting worse and worse. Albo?
"Albo?" Even Ianto sound impressed. "I heard it takes at least a month to get reservations."
Two, actually. Owen struggled back upright onto his chair. He glared at Gwen and Tosh, who merely stared back with twin "What?" on their faces.
"Jack had me make the reservations." Tosh's fingers flew across her keyboard with the grace of a pianist and Albo's main reservation page popped up. A few more clicks and unbelievably, Jack's name popped up.
"There you are," Tosh chirped and it was too bad she was a girl because Owen really wanted to shoot something now and she was conveniently nearby.
"Eight o'clock for two." Tosh did a scary Cheshire cat impression as her spectacles gleamed.
"Oh." Ianto turned back towards the office, his brow knitted. "Odd, he didn't mention it before…"
"He probably forgot. You know how he is. Jack was telling me all about it when we were Weevil hunting before," Gwen said hastily. She draped an arm around Ianto's shoulders and steered him towards the cog door.
"Why don't you close the Tourist center early and we can look at their menu online," Gwen was still going as she dragged poor Teaboy further away, "I heard the Chilean sea bass is amazing. I've been trying to get Rhys to take me there for months since it opened. Oh, and I heard Daniel Craig was there just yesterday and his date was this gorgeous…"
Owen blinked as the pair disappeared behind the cogwheel doors just as Ianto admitted he always wanted to try the squab.
"Of all the…" Owen twisted around and glowered at Tosh.
"Albo?"
Tosh blew lightly at her nails. "Their security encryption isn't worth shit," she remarked in a mild voice. It was scary how she would sound like that whether hacking into Wales' most exclusive bistro or building one of those teeny weeny bombs with the very big explosions.
"Oh," Tosh added, "By the way, you're welcome."
Owen's eyebrows disappeared high into his hairline. "For what?"
"You did say Jack wants to tell Ianto himself," Tosh reminded him. "I think Jack would have been very cross with you if you had accidentally told Ianto before he could." Tosh nodded towards the office. "Better let Jack know he has a date in five hours." Her teeth flashed. "I think Albo would be the perfect place to tell Ianto, don't you think?"
Owen groaned to himself as he rose from his chair. Brilliant. He trudged towards Jack's office, feeling oddly like he was shuffling towards the gallows.
"Owen?"
Glad for the delay to his doom, Owen peered over his shoulder.
Tosh was typing into her computer. "I made our reservations for seven next week." Tosh smirked at Owen. "You can thank me properly then." She hummed as her fingers went click click click. "I've always wanted to try the kobe steak," Tosh mused out loud, "I heard it goes excellent with their 1984 Vellenas Merlot."
Owen snapped his mouth shut and pivot on his heel, practically lunging for the door now.
"Oh, and orchids," Tosh called out after him, "roses are too cliché."
The glass rattled when Owen slammed the door and drowned out his rather impolite response.
"Oi," Owen snarled as soon as the door shut behind him. "I want to request a future reimbursement on a very expensive future dinner!"
No one answered because no one was here.
"Jack?" Owen observed the half eaten sandwich on the desk, the untouched coffee. Owen tentatively poked his head through the hatchway.
"Jack?"
"Yeah," Jack answered hoarsely and came into view under the manhole looking all pasty and unsteady.
Owen winced. "Lunch?"
Jack settled a hand on his stomach and swallowed convulsively. "Lunch," he shakily confirmed.
"Lie down on the bed," Owen instructed as he climbed the ladder.
"I thought morning sickness comes only in the morning," Jack complained even as he complied.
"You never do things easy," Owen returned as he unfolded the stethoscope from his lab coat. He breathed on the chest piece until it warmed. He put on the earpieces and nodded curtly at Jack. "Sit up."
"I thought you wanted me to lie down?"
Owen gestured with a fist and the stethoscope in his other hand. Jack sighed and sat up, his back hunched as Owen pulled up his shirt.
"Cough," Owen muttered as he listened.
"I have morning sickness, not a cold."
"Don't make me stick this somewhere inappropriate," Owen threatened, "I'm a doctor. I know many places."
Jack promptly coughed.
Owen considered the top of Jack's head as he counted the captain's rapid pulse with two fingers. He frowned. A hundred and three. Hm, not too good. Normal for male pregnancy though? Not normal? The flushed skin he could feel made his own stomach churn. Jack mentioned immunosuppressant. Was the rise in temperature a symptom or to be expected?
It was starting to dawn on Owen what was going to happen in less than a year; all the things that could go wrong, all the things they all have to watch out for.
Now Owen felt sick.
"I don't know how to tell him."
Owen looked over to Jack, but Jack was staring at the ladder.
Jack shrugged. "I don't even know if I should. Maybe it's better he doesn't know in case I don't…"
"I thought it was pretty much decided that you're keeping the baby," Owen murmured as he felt under Jack's jaw for his glands. "And I think he'll notice in a few more months."
"Seven," Jack said, his eyes elsewhere as he remembered. "Before I lost…at six months, I still wasn't showing yet. Most male pregnancies…I heard mid-trimester."
"Lots of mothers would love that," Owen told Jack. Done, he leaned back on the ladder.
Jack's shoulders lifted once. "The female body was engineered so the abdomen can expand out to accommodate growing fetus. Men? Grows inward, pressing on major organs and damaging muscle." Jack grimaced and fidgeted uneasily on the bed. "My kidneys were failing when it happened."
Owen made a sound and grimaced. "Hence the forty percent you were telling me. Human body's own immune system probably aborts the fetus in self-defense." Owen harrumphed. "I think we can get around that with that immunosuppressant therapy you were telling me about and—"
"Stop planning this for me!" Jack narrowed his eyes at Owen. They glinted darkly in the gloom of his quarters. "Stop acting like I…like I've decided. I haven't. There's too much to consider, too much that could go wrong and what it could mean for the baby."
Owen watched Jack from the ladder. "What about Ianto?" Owen asked.
Jack set his jaw and stared hard at the ladder.
Owen sighed. He was fine with the alien autopsies and patching up small scrapes the team seemed prone to. But this? Owen glowered at Jack and wished he could throttle him. Stupid Jack. Had to get himself pregnant.
"You know, there was a time," Owen finally said, his throat tight, "when I was going to marry my Kate and we would live forever, together at least."
Jack glanced over at Owen.
Owen coughed and squirmed. A rung dug into his spine but it felt like the only thing holding him up. "We made plans, thought about a house, thought about children." Owen smirked to himself. "A friend had once asked us how many kids we want and together we had answered."
"She said three." Owen met Jack's face and offered a crooked grin.
"I said five."
Owen chuckled to himself. He could still hear Kate's laugh at his response.
Jack's face crinkled to a sad sort of smile. "You wanted a family or a rugby team?"
Funny, Kate had asked the same thing then. Owen shrugged. "Yeah, well. We never did get that family." He sighed. "And when I couldn't save her, that was it. Pictures, her favorite scarf, her mug, that was all I had left of her."
"Memories," Jack interjected with a sad certainty that Owen was afraid to ask about. "There's always memories."
Owen nodded with some difficulty. "Eventually though, they fade," Owen croaked. He blinked rapidly and suddenly he wanted to punch Jack for making him tell him all about this. "Woke up one morning and realized I couldn't remember her laugh. Simplest thing. I couldn't remember it. Was like losing her all over again." Owen scrubbed his face with his hands. "That day, I thought 'I would have been happy with even one child. Just one, so I can still see my Kate everyday.'"
Jack lowered his eyes to the bed he was sitting on.
"I know we're not here forever," Owen told the bowed head. "We don't know if the baby will be immortal but he or she will be a part from Ianto nevertheless. You have the rare opportunity to do this with Ianto, why not? Give him a chance to find a way to stay with you forever."
Jack said nothing, his head still low.
Owen found it odd to be patting Jack's shoulder when usually, it was the other way around. "Everything looks good. Your pulse was high before but leveled off." Owen paused. "Oh, uh…and the girls made reservations for you and Jonesy at Albo for eight tonight."
"They know?" Jack said dully.
"CCTV," Owen replied simply. He breathed out through his teeth. "Tosh is a scary woman."
Jack smiled weakly, but his entire body tensed.
"We won't say anything. The girls know what this means for this century."
Jack nodded and the stiffness on Jack's shoulders eased a fraction.
"Get some sleep," Owen advised. He tucked his stethoscope back into his pocket. "I'll see about some biscuits for you. Might help settle your stomach." He wrapped his hands on the rungs and started to climb.
"Ianto hid those," Jack slurred, already halfway to sleep.
Owen snorted. "Behind the napkins? He better learn to hide treats better in the future. Children always know where to find where adults hide the treats."
Jack didn't comment, already asleep. Owen stood there, three steps closer to the surface and wondered why he ever told Jack about Kate. He shook his head and climbed out the rest of the way.
It had been a while since he wrote medical notes by hand but it kept things out of computers, off record and avoiding mucking up any timelines. Torchwood Archives was secure and if necessary, there was always the traditional way of deleting a file: fire.
It was once more an ungodly hour in a quiet Hub. Janet could be heard barking to the Weevils in the next cell, the pterodactyl cawing and shuffling from its lofty nest. It was white noise for Owen while he scribbled in careful print, substituting words in pig Latin so his missives couldn't be read easily at first glance. Not brilliant, but it'll have to do for now.
Rereading his notes, Owen was disturbed to realize just how little was known. If Jack decided to keep the pregnancy, Owen knew he needed to ask many more questions.
Owen glanced up at his computer LCD screen at the pinpoint dot that kept him company all morning. He smiled tightly. In a few more weeks, the little one would develop discernible arms and legs with hands and feet. The thought made his guts coil with both palm sweaty fear and almost lightheaded giddy anticipation. Daft sod. He was going mental, is all. Giddy over someone else's baby? God, he's gone mad.
"What would you have named your child…had you and Kate had one?"
Jack's voice came as no surprise. Owen heard the hesitant footfalls still by the couch fifteen minutes ago.
"Elizabeth," Owen murmured as he wrote down the scant things Jack did tell him about his first pregnancy.
"Kate wished her mother had named her Elizabeth. She'd wanted a daughter Elizabeth." Owen shrugged. "Ethan if it was a boy."
Jack stepped closer to the rail above Owen and set his foot up on the upper bar. "They're nice names." There was a low sigh and a creak as Jack leaned on the metal railings that curved down to the stairs.
"I couldn't tell him…over dinner." Jack cleared his throat. "The duck was really good though."
"I'll keep that in mind," Owen muttered. He tilted his head back and considered the tired features looking back at him. "You look like shit, by the way."
"Couldn't sleep," Jack replied succinctly. He set his arms on the top rail and clasped his hands together. "Still have that scan?"
Owen pressed his mouth to a thin line.
"Please."
Owen tapped at his keyboard and the projection display flickered back to life on the wall in front of Jack. He scrolled to the right scan until that little dot he had been staring at all morning reappeared.
Jack exhaled, but said nothing. He stared at the scan with an unreadable expression.
"It's not an accurate scan," Owen coughed. He leaned back in his seat so he could see Jack better. "You're about four weeks along and given your previous history, I would recommend one every three weeks, once a week at your third trimester."
"If I reach my third," Jack muttered.
"You will." Owen narrowed his eyes. "Does that mean…"
Jack barked out a strangled laugh. "Yeah. Damn you, Owen, but yeah, I…I want to have this…" Jack reached out a hand as if he was going to touch the display. "I want this with Ianto." Jack's shoulders dropped. "I just don't know if Ianto would."
Owen returned his eyes back to the scan.
"I think he would make a good father, Jack," Owen said solemnly, "and there's not too many people I can say that about." Owen twisted around in his chair to glare up at Jack.
"But if you tell him, I will deny it and then make these nine months hell for you…" Owen suddenly grinned, "mommy."
Jack glowered at him. "What did you just call me?"
"'Well, Owen,'" Owen crowed, remembering, "'when mommy and daddy love each other very much…'" Owen smirked and pointed at Jack with his pen. "You, mate, are the mommy, you are the…"
Owen gulped at the dark look from above. All it was missing was lightning to smite him down.
"All right," Owen amended, "you're…you're the parent. This kid will just be one of those modern families with two daddies."
Something flickered across Jack's face.
"You are going to tell him, right?"
Jack nodded slowly. He curled his hands around the top rail and rocked on the foot balanced carefully on the middle bar.
"When?"
Jack grimaced. "I don't know. Yesterday would have been good, but…" Jack toyed with something hanging around his neck. "Soon. Real soon…"
Owen nodded to himself. It would have to do. Owen stared at the projected scan once more and his chest felt like it was filling up like a balloon. His head spun and suddenly that dot on the screen was a whole lot more.
"Fuck," Owen breathed. "You're going to have a baby."
Jack stared at the display, this time his eyes lightened with the prospect of what lay before him.
"Yes," Jack whispered in a thick voice, "I am."
The End
Next --> Month 0: The Key To Appropriate Proclamations In A More Personal Matter
Author's Note:
Happy belated birthday, Teach! Now, don't you worry, there's smut coming for this verse. Borrowing a page from you, there's an interlude that comes before "Detours" so this of this as birthday fic, part one. More Wednesday!
Title: Month 0: Sex Education
Author: d8rkmessngr
Rating: PG-13, Complete
Pairing: Rhys/Gwen, briefly implied past Jack/OMC, Janto (of course, silly)
Summary: It all boils down to biology…
Universe: Nine Months to Heaven. Stems from Storm'verse, however, this might not be fanon come season 2 in March. So it's an AU of er-my Storm 'verse AU. Confused yet? LOL.
Warning: Angst, H/C, MPreg, off screen child death mention, discussions on pregnancy termination, Owen's potty mouth, and…smut-less (gasp! Yes, it's true!)
Disclaimer: TW is owned by RTD and BBC. Just borrowing custody for a tick.
Author's Note: These stories in this 'verse may be written out of order as they come when inspiration hits me with a mallet. LOL. Dedicated to
teachwriteslash for creating my mpreg obsession in the first place. Much love and graditude to bookwrm89 for the beta.Master Fic List: here
The first clue Owen Harper thought something was wrong with Jack Harkness was when Jack opted out from his usual glass of water and substitute it for juice. Orange juice, to be exact.
"Thought the only thing that goes in your mouth is water. Since when do you drink juice? You all right? You look a bit peaked," Owen commented as he entered the conference room and caught Jack peeling apart his sandwich—appetite was rubbish these days too—before twisting the cap off a large bottle of orange juice.
Jack paused mid-pour into his glass. He grinned at Owen.
"No." Jack looked a little too bright-eyed and gleeful in his response. "Not just water goes into my mouth."
Owen stared at the toothy grin and felt a burn slowly creeping up his ears.
"That's disgusting," Owen snapped and snatched his lunch on his way out, Jack snickering like a brat behind him.
By the time his shoes thumped down the steps to the main area, Owen realized Jack had completely diverted him from the second part of his question.
The second clue that piqued Owen's curiosity was Jack dozing lightly on the couch inside his office at odd hours. It was clear Ianto had been in at some point. Jack's boots were always unlaced and set on the floor in a neat standing display of readiness. A pillow would usually be tucked under Jack's head as well as under his ankles. The thin afghan from Jack's underground hatchway always found its way pulled up to Jack's chin.
"Jack, here's the autopsy reports on—Oh." Owen grimaced, four steps too late to realize Jack was not on his desk, but once again stretched across the couch.
Jack raised his head and blinked sleepily at Owen.
"Sorry," Owen muttered. He waved his folders in the air. "Reports."
"All right," Jack mumbled and his head dropped back on the pillow.
Owen frowned and before he knew it, he was standing over Jack with his arms folded across his chest.
Jack opened his left eye and effectively glowered at Owen with it.
"Voyeur much?" Jack grumbled.
"It's fourteen hundred," Owen announced.
"Good for you. And Ianto said you couldn't tell time," Jack yawned.
"He said what? Why the little—" Owen stopped short. He glared at the drowsy grin Jack offered, both eyes shut again.
"You've been napping everyday." Owen poked Jack with a finger on his forehead.
"Ouch. So?" Jack swatted Owen's hand away.
"So, that's not like you. Come on, think it's time for a check-up, Captain."
It was hard to haul up a man who doesn't want to go anywhere; they're all limbs and weight. Which is why Owen hated going to the bars with his teammates or friends from his old A&E. Bloody lightweights, all of them. He'd always end up carrying one person or another and dumping him or her into the back of a taxi. Jack simply batted Owen's hand away from his arm.
"I'm just tired," Jack yawned again. He waved Owen off. "I'm fine."
"Sure. You looking like a zombie for days and napping like a vampire is a picture of good health."
"Sounds more like a bad horror movie," Jack quipped.
"Come on." It felt like he was coaxing a child. Nothing new. Everyone here acted more like they were five sometimes.
"A little blood work, a chest X-ray, just to clear things up."
Jack opened his eyes now. His right brow arched.
"I could clear things up right now." Jack grinned, his brow waggling up at Owen.
"I'm just worn out." Jack raised his arms carefully above his head and stretched with a very big yawn.
Owen scowled, not sure if Jack was just trying to piss him off. Jack was very good at it. "You're fucking kidding me."
"Well, I wasn't doing the—"
"All right!" Owen snapped. "If you drop dead from some weird alien disease from that ruddy Rift, don't come crawling to me!"
As Owen stormed off, Jack's baffled voice rang out behind him.
"How can I come crawling to you if I'm dead?"
The third clue really wasn't much of a clue at all.
Owen woke up this morning and remembered something he should have done in his autopsy the night before. Something, in fact, that might explain why those people in Devon were suddenly swinging axes at their spouses.
It was an ungodly hour, but once the idea formed in Owen's head, it wouldn't go away. It was early enough that Owen didn't recognize the morning register clerk when he purchased his breakfast sandwich and a large coffee—it was too early to hope Jonesy came in as well.
It was no surprise that the Hub lights were on. Jack once claimed he didn't need much sleep which his naps contradicted. Owen thought their Captain would have been in Ianto's flat a little longer though so his steps slowed as soon as the cog doors opened.
"Morning?" Owen called out as he stood within the cage in front of the cogwheel. He wasn't particularly keen in walking in on them again and a disheveled and flushed Ianto Jones usually meant Owen needed to seek refuge in his medical bay. He doesn’t want to see what they can get up to.
It was a relief that there was no answer, but there was a nagging twitch inside nevertheless, so Owen strained to hear anything.
Which was why he heard the Weevil moan in the main cells.
It was a little sound and usually, the Weevils always howled for one reason or another. It was annoying during the day; Janet in particular could get very vocal for no reason at all which made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. This time, however, she sounded more purposeful, more like calling for attention.
Owen took the stairs to his left down to the cells. Janet wasn't so much howling as she was grunting and woofing like a sheepdog. She could be heard pacing within the confines of her chamber.
"It's not feeding time yet," Owen grumbled as he walked down the dim hallway, "You're going to have to wait for your boyfriend Jonesy to feed you whatever kibble he—"
Owen halted in his tracks, frozen at the sight of Jack slumped across from Janet's cell, a smelly patch of vomit on the floor.
Janet, hunched forward and pressed up against the glass, simply pawed the glass enclosure and huffed when she sighted Owen.
"Told you something was wrong," Owen griped as he crouched down by Jack. "Oi." A shake to the shoulders didn't yield any reaction. He caught Jack when the captain simply slumped forward.
Jack's pulse seemed all right even though there was a fine sheen of sweat across Jack's brow. He sat up against a chair set there to observe the Weevils, his legs folded awkwardly under him, telling Owen the descent wasn't particularly graceful. But he wasn't dead and the bloke wasn't bleeding anywhere.
Owen checked behind him at the stairs. He groaned as he thought of the distance. "Bloody Harkness. You owe me hazard pay for this."
"Right," Owen remarked as he stood up and folded his arms in front of him. "I guess someone's going to have that check-up after all."
Janet only gave a soft bark in response.
Owen whistled as he selected a scalpel. Hm, maybe the number ten. Owen sorted the curved edge and pointed blades and set them on a tray, which he swiveled to float over Jack's legs. He kicked the IV stand closer to Jack's gurney and tapped the inside of Jack's left elbow until he found a proper vessel.
"Just a short nap," Owen muttered as he tied a rubber strap as tight as possible around the arm, "Then I'll cut it out and get you sorted."
A hand grabbed his right just before he could slip the port in.
"W'at are you 'oing?" Jack rasped, his eyes half-mast.
Owen shook off the grip. "No worries. Just a little anesthesia before surgery."
Jack's eyes were wide open now. "S-surgery?" Jack croaked. "What the 'ell for? I thought you 'ere 'oking a'out d-dissecting me."
"No," Owen huffed, "I'm not planning on dissecting you." Although honestly, Owen was still miffed when he proposed the idea to Jack last month and it was rejected: by Ianto and Jack. "I plan to get that alien life form out of you."
"What?" Jack's head shot up and so would have the rest of him if Owen hadn't placed a splayed hand flat on his chest.
Hand still on Jack so the Captain wouldn't bolt, Owen stepped aside so he could see the projected screen high above on the wall. The bright colored display showed all the bits a human male should have with only one addition.
"That," Owen pointed to the shadow pressed up against Jack's stomach and a dot that looked wedged in the lower quadrant of the shadow.
Jack stared at it speechless.
"See?" Owen said with a smug grin. "Too small for me to scan but it looks to be organic. Probably because of its size, we didn't get a Rift alert. Looks like a sac of some sorts, fluid, and that looks to be…" Owen squinted. He reached over and tapped on his keyboard to zoom in the image."
"Could be a parasite of some sorts," Owen guessed. "I see some sort of neural groove, so it's a species with a spinal column." Owen pursed his lips as he considered Jack. "You remember being bitten by anything? Ingested anything? Blackouts?"
Jack was propped up on his elbows now. He stared at the screen with a sort of mix of horror and something else Owen couldn't quite pinpoint.
"No," Jack said after a few stunned moments, "nothing like that."
Owen turned back to the screen as well. "No? Then how the hell did a parasite get in you?"
"It's not a parasite," Jack said. He sounded weary all of the sudden.
It isn't? Owen screwed up his face and stared at the projection again. He breathed out sharply through his nose when he couldn't zoom in more.
"Then what the hell is it?"
"That's a human embryo." Jack sagged back on his elbows. "I'm pregnant."
Ah, makes sense. Owen nodded as he folded his arms. "Yea, yea, I can see the notochord…" Owen's eyes widened.
"You're what?"
Owen nearly missed the stool he tried to sit on. He stared at Jack. Jack stared at the screen.
"You're…you're…" Owen swallowed and tried again because it was possible he just had a brain fart because surely Jack didn't just say…
"I'm pregnant."
Bloody hell.
Owen opened his mouth. He closed it. Then he opened it again. Owen lifted up a hand then forgot what he was going to do with it and dropped it.
"Is this one of those 'can't stay dead' things?" Owen managed out.
"No." Jack sat up, pushed the surgical tray away and twisted around to face Owen. "More of a timeline sort of thing."
Owen raised an eyebrow at Jack. Jack looked pretty normal for a man up the duff. Then again, when was normal an adjective attached to Jack Harkness? If Owen thought about it, this really shouldn't have surprised him. Not after Abbadon.
"Okay," Owen drawled, "considering what little you do tell us and from what I know about medical developments, I'm guessing a future timeline? How far in the future?" At Jack's look, Owen sighed. "Right. You can't tell me that."
Jack merely stared back with a blank expression that made him want to flip the tray and thwack Jack in the head with it. Just a few times to make him feel better.
Owen narrowed his eyes at Jack. The scan had showed all the appropriate bits, all the proper levels of blood, temperature and oxygen levels.
"What?" Jack snapped, still managing to look indignant in his hospital gown and trousers.
"You're a man," Owen told Jack with a wave towards him.
"Nice to know medical school wasn't a waste of time."
"I'm laughing on the inside," Owen retorted. He gestured with both hands now at Jack, who looked at them mildly amused.
"You're a man. You got all the expected parts. How the hell did you make a baby?"
"Well Owen, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much—"
"I don't need a biology lesson!" Owen snapped.
"Then stop asking the obvious!" Jack barked back.
"O-obvious? You're a bloke! You're pregnant! Pregnant with…" Owen stopped short.
Jack darkened. "Don't even think of asking whose baby it is," Jack growled.
Owen blinked. Jack had curled his fists around the edge of the gurney. The captain looked about ready to launch at him like a lion.
"Okay," Owen said slowly. He stole a glance to the monitors and sure enough, the scales shot up. "Calm down—"
"I am calm!"
"You're shouting," Owen pointed out.
Jack paused, looked down at his hands and deflate. "Oh."
When it didn't look like Jack was contemplating retiring Owen permanently, Owen spared a glance to the screen. All the gauges quietly slid back down with the exception of Jack's bp.
"What," Owen gestured towards Jack, then the monitor, "was that?" Owen grabbed his handheld scanner and motioned it up and down Jack for secondary readings. He pursed his lips. "You're not going to get…hormonal on me?" He raised a palm up at Jack's glower. "I'm just asking, mate. As your doctor. All right?"
"I don't get hormonal," Jack bit out, "I get…last time I got a little…temperamental."
Owen checked the display above them again. "Would explain the sudden spike in heart rate and blood pressure," Owen mused. He leaned back, his arms folded again, thoughtful. "I'm guessing adrenaline because male estrogen levels are usually too low anyway in an average male." If everything worked that way for Jack, that is. Owen reviewed back their conversation.
"Hold on…last time?" Owen straightened and set down his scanner. This was getting more and more interesting. "You mean this happened before?"
"Not really." Jack's shoulders dropped lower.
The beep-beep of the projection was beginning to annoy him. Owen flicked a key at his keyboard and the display snapped shut. Suddenly, it was very quiet. Even the ruddy pterodactyl outside was saying nothing. Owen studied Jack staring at his bare feet swinging idly over the bed edge.
"Miscarriage?" Owen realized he’d guessed right when Jack stiffened.
"In my time, male pregnancies were forty percent success rate."
Ack. Owen grimaced. Not very friendly odds then "So why do it?" Owen chided himself but too late, the question came out.
Jack took a deep breath and for a moment, it didn't look like he would answer but after a long exhale, Jack replied.
"Invasion." Jack paused. "No…I would say war. We didn't just let it happen."
It was unnerving how many secrets Jack possibly knew and wouldn't share. Yet with what little Jack would offer sometimes, Owen felt both curiosity and dread. Owen sometimes wondered if it wasn't mercy more than protecting the timelines when Jack was so cryptic.
Owen furrowed his brow at what little Jack gave this time but almost immediately, it smoothed out. "Repopulation. So this was medical intervention not evolution?" That was good to know, Owen thought as he fought back the urge to pat his own abdomen.
Jack swung back around to lie back flat on the gurney. He folded his hands over his stomach. He stared at the ceiling but his eyes were glazed over in memory.
"Seemed like a good idea at the time," Jack mused, his face distant. "You think you found someone for life, agree to have a child, it doesn't work and that someone moves out before you get out of ICU."
Owen wanted to growl. Man or woman, that was a shitty thing to do. "Probably better you know how he was then than ten years later."
Jack barked a laugh. It didn't sound like he thought it was funny though. "Yea," Jack said hoarsely, "you have a point."
Owen was pulling out a clipboard. "So, that shadowy mass?"
"Womb. Artificial transplant."
Owen hemmed as he made notes. He had a feeling computers wouldn't be a good option for this. "And how long does it usually take to come full term?"
"I'm told nine months?"
The pen stopped mid-sentence. "Told? How long before you…lost the fetus?" It was cold, Owen knew that, but calling the lost a baby he always found was worse.
Jack's response was too quiet to even echo in the domed medical bay. "Just under six months."
Six months? Owen made a quick calculation. Christ. "So you knew…"
"Girl," Jack answered in that same small voice that was making Owen feel like a heel. "The eggs are usually pre-fertilized to produce a high probability of girls."
"For repopulation, right," Owen muttered. "Wait…Egg? But you…" Owen turned on the elevated display again and Jack's readings with all his very male scans and very male X-rays flitted through the screen like a macabre picture book.
"If you're looking for ovaries," Jack called out with a hint of his usual smirk, "you're not going to find any. It was a genetically replicated egg with my DNA." Jack snorted, frustrated. "What I don't get is how did this happen?" Jack sat up cross-legged on the medical bed. "I…I got pregnant once, I pretty much thought never again, but another egg was implanted in me but that was…" Jack paused as he did a count in his head, "lots of years ago! I don't know much about the process but eggs can't last this long, right?"
"I don't know." Owen waved his clipboard at Jack. "You're a bloody anomaly! I—Wait. When you die, your wounds usually mend themselves, right?"
Jack nodded even as he gave Owen a puzzled frown. "Life threatening, my death would revert my body back to the moment before I—" Jack's eyes widened. "Ah crap." He slapped a hand over his face. "And after that, most of the times Ianto and I—"
"I really don't need you to finish that sentence!" Owen said hastily. "Really. Please." As a doctor, he didn't need to know everything. "Although, maybe I should be sitting you two down for one of them safe sex learning videos."
Jack glared at him and Owen wasn't sure if it was from the pregnancy or Jack truly getting pissed. Owen cleared his throat loudly. Why chance it?
"All right. We know how then," Owen said briskly. "Now, what to do?"
Jack faced back the wall. "Can I see her?" Jack asked quietly.
"Huh? Yea sure, though there isn't much yet." Owen brought up the right display and found the initial scan. He zoomed in on what he now knew was the womb—bloody hell, now he's seen it all.
"From the neural groove and size, I would say three weeks at best." Owen gave Jack a quick up down. "Your symptoms came on pretty early."
"They usually do," Jack mumbled absently, his eyes on the scan. "Last time, I was sick from day one. Pretty bad actually because my body didn't recognize the fetus until months later and only after treatment." Jack shrugged. "Immunosuppressant or something of that kind." Jack made a sound. "At the time, I wasn't paying much attention."
"Your current healing abilities might have something to do with that." Owen made some more notes. "I think if you can tell me what you can remember of what they did, we could adapt something to ensure a safe bir—"
"I can't have her."
Owen's eyes zipped back to Jack. "What did you say?"
"I…" Jack's face crumbled a little. "I can't have this baby."
Owen gaped at Jack. "What the hell are you talking about? Jack!" Owen grabbed Jack's arm as their captain hopped off the bed. "Now hold on, you can't be suggesting…"
"No one can know," Jack said, his eyes stayed glued on Owen even as he shook free from Owen's grip.
"Wait. What the hell are you saying, Jack?"
Jack stared past Owen at the display. A swirl of grief, regret and a mess of emotions contorted Jack's face.
"I can't have her."
And Jack left, up the stairs, his eyes overly bright. Owen knew this time; it had nothing to do with hormones.
Maybe it was the tears or the fact that his male employer was pregnant. Whatever it was, Owen didn't immediately go after Jack. He sat there, on his stool, slack jawed and staring at the screen. He thought about how small the cluster of divided cells looked, thought about how it was originally created for the sole purpose to revive the human race, thought about how the child might look when he or she grows up. Would the kid be as broody as Jonesy? Or a ruddy flirt like Jack?
Then, Owen became mad. Very mad. He barely saw the stairs as he stormed up to Jack's office but before he barged in, he caught sight of Jack by his desk, his head in his hands, dressed once more in his shirt and braces, the hospital gown lumped up and stuffed in the refuse bin. Owen stopped short. Suddenly, just like he was down in the medical bay, Owen felt stunned stupid.
"How long are you going to just stand there?" Jack rasped after a few minutes. He never looked up.
"I won't do it. I won't terminate the pregnancy," Owen said quietly when he entered the office. It was still too early and no one was here yet, but his declaration didn't seem like it should be out loud. Everything around him felt stifled like the very atmosphere was holding its breath.
It would have been better if Jack reacted with anger or disappointment, but instead, he only sound resigned.
"Male pregnancy doesn't happen for centuries," Jack sighed, his head still in his hands. "Not for a while and not even on this planet." Jack paused as if realizing now just how much he said.
"I wasn't thinking of ringing up the Daily Mail." Owen scoffed. "Despite what you think, you don't make very interesting news, Jack. I think we can keep it a secret. Bloody hell, you kept it a secret for this long."
Jack huffed in an aborted laugh. "I do like my secrets," Jack said bitterly.
A light popped in his head. Owen dropped down on a chair. "Ah." Owen made a face. "Let me guess…he doesn't know either."
"Not exactly something you can bring up in a conversation," Jack sighed. "I can't really say 'hey, you know that not dying thing? Guess what? You thought that was weird; I can get pregnant, too. Coffee?'"
Owen bared his teeth in a grimace. "I see what you mean."
"Besides, I thought this couldn't happen again!"
An angry swing of an arm swept across Jack's desk and sent papers and pens skidding off the edge to the floor. As soon as Jack did that, though, his face had twisted to shock and regret.
Owen studied the papers on the floor, his lips pursed.
"You know," Owen said finally, "These next nine months are going to be messy with your hormones all buggered."
Jack glared at the floor as if the papers were to blame.
"I can't have it. The timeline—"
"Bollocks," Owen dismissed it with a snort, "We kept loads of things secret in Torchwood because of timelines and the universe hasn't imploded yet." Owen watched Jack stoop down to pick up the scattered work. He didn't offer to help—he didn't do it—but kept an eye on Jack. Last thing they needed was another header to the floor. Owen wasn't going to drag his arse all the way back to his medical bay again.
Jack was taking unusual care of piling everything from his crouched position. Owen studied the hunched posture.
"That's not the real reason, is it?" Owen asked quietly.
The papers stilled in Jack's hands. Jack's head dipped lower out of sight.
"What if the baby's like me?" Jack said in a small voice. Hidden besides his large desk, all Owen could see was the back of Jack's head. "What if she inherits my immortality?"
"Do we know it can be passed on?" Owen felt a cold, heavy lump sitting in his gut when Jack shook his head. "Then we shouldn't make any prognosis yet."
"I don't want to risk this curse on a child," Jack argued as he stood and set the restacked paperwork on the desk.
"Who said it was a curse?" Owen argued. "This way, the kid will be with you—"
"She can't die, Owen!" Jack shouted, his arms in the air. "Do you have any idea what that means for her? That there can only be grief and pain forever for her? Do you think she'll thank me for that?"
It was something Owen knew was what waited for Jack, but he'd shoved it to the back of his mind with his memories. He didn't like thinking about the inevitable and in a way, perhaps he'd always thought he would live forever, too, somehow. It was easy to forget sometimes, under the exuberance Jack displays with them, that life is limited, that only Jack was truly eternal.
"What makes you think terminating the pregnancy now will resolve it then?" Owen pointed out. "If the baby inherited your immortality, you think an abortion will fix it?"
It was obvious by the way Jack's face paled that the thought hadn't occurred to him.
"Damn it." Jack's eyes glistened and he covered his face once more with his hands and sat back in his chair. He sniffed.
Owen scratched his jaw and wondered if he should fetch a tissue.
"And this is not me being hormonal," Jack muttered from behind his hands.
Owen snorted. "I wasn't going to say that. This normal for you. You're a weepy sort of fellow. Always were, bawling over Tosh's DVD last week, even."
A pen lobbed at his head, bounced and landed on the floor. "Hey, it was a bad day and it was a sad movie!"
"Bloody hell, Jack. The movie was called Titanic, didn't that give you an idea what would happen?"
Jack lifted his head up. He glowered. "Like I said, bad day and he accidentally made decaffeinated that morning, too!"
"Probably just as well," Owen shot back. He levered off the chair to stand by Jack. "No more caffeine for you."
"What?" Jack dropped his hands. He looked scandalized. "You're not serious?"
Owen tapped a finger to his chin before he waggled the same finger at a wide-eyed Jack Harkness. "We should start scheduling regular scans and you need to tell me everything about how—" Owen stopped. His brow wrinkled as he studied Jack. "How's this baby going to come out anyway? Oi. Don't tell me…" Owen's eyes grew to circles and his finger pointed down.
"Owen!" Jack now looked like he was tempted to bite that finger but thankfully, he only slapped it away. "It's not coming out that way and I'm not going to suddenly grow a vagina!"
"Breasts?" Owen made a rude grabby gesture with both hands and Jack growled.
"No!" Jack folded his arms in front of him. "It'll be done by Cesarean!"
"Oh." Owen was oddly disappointed and relieved. "All right. If we're going to do this the twenty first century way."
"I didn't say I was having her," Jack pointed out.
"I think you have," Owen told him. He grinned as he walked out the office. "You called it a her."
Owen didn't need to turn around to know there was a stunned look on Jack's face.
Three days later…
There were times Owen wished he could indulge in the overall temptation to shoot Jack Harkness. Again. It already happened before and Jack was fine. Just one little bullet in the arse. A sharp ouch to knock some sense back in Jack.
Today was one of those times.
If Owen didn't think he would be skinned alive by Gwen, Tosh and Teaboy there, Owen would have pulled out the Glock in his shoulder holster and fire. If it didn't kill the baby, that is.
Every time Ianto went into Jack's office, Owen waited by his workstation to catch Jonesy's reaction when Ianto left. But Teaboy always came out appearing just as bland as before, sometimes with an untouched tray—he was going to have to prescribe prenatal vitamins to Jack—or a stack of paperwork Ianto needed to file. Ianto didn't have the shook look of a bloke who was just informed he was going to be a parent. There were times, Owen wanted to lock them both down in Jack's quarters but given the numerous times he walked in—accidentally, of course—on the two, talking wouldn't be done.
Jack ignored Owen's emails, walked by his glares every time he went out on a rift alert and wouldn't meet his eyes. If it weren't for the fact Jack seemed to be taking great care when he was out there, Owen would have said something to Ianto himself before their captain did something foolish like get himself killed.
There were times though…
"…jumps down from the top of the SUV and pinned the Weevil down so I could spray it. They seem to be less crazed around Jack these days otherwise I thought for sure it would have torn Jack's throat out. And then it turned out there was another one right behind him and Lord, I didn't know which to shoot at first!"
Gwen was telling Tosh about the rift activity as the tech listened with huge eyes. Her fingers were still holding onto a half bitten digestive. She hadn't put it down since Gwen started telling her about the nest of Weevils they accidentally came upon that morning. Owen sat back in his chair, legs on his station as he listened, fuming, as Gwen recounted all the stupid things a pregnant bloke really shouldn't be doing.
Engrossed, Tosh almost missed her mug until Ianto came out of nowhere and pressed it to her searching hand. Tosh shot him a grateful grin before turning back to Gwen.
"The Weevils are certainly getting very bold. Right there in the Arcade during lunch! I’ve never seen so many trolleys spilled about before! How many did you have to Retcon, Ianto?"
"Ten," Ianto answered in his usual precise way. He glanced over to Jack's office though and the mild expression wrinkled to a faint frown. He idly rearranged the plate of sandwiches on the tray he was carrying. Owen brightened when he saw the small dish of teacakes Gwen brought in from the Queen's Arcade. So that's where they went. "They all now think it was a gas pipe explosion."
"A gas pipe explosion caused all those bite and claw marks?" Tosh commented skeptically.
"Shrapnel," Ianto returned absently as he wandered over to Jack's office with the laden tray before Owen could nip the chocolate one off the tray. Damn it.
Owen scowled at Ianto as he gave a timid knock to Jack's door before entering.
Owen slid his eyes over and watched through the distorted glass but Jack only shook his head at whatever Ianto asked him and took an offered sandwich. Jack didn't take a bite though, not until Ianto seated himself on the edge of his desk. Owen grunted. At least Jack was eating something, Owen grumbled when he spied Ianto offering Jack the teacakes.
"So, you think he's telling him now?"
"Probably not," Owen muttered. His eyes widened. He started and swiveled around to find two pairs of eyes on him.
"Tell him what? W-who?" Owen stammered.
Gwen rolled his eyes. "Really, Owen, you're shit when it comes to secrets." She leaned in conspiratorially. "About the baby."
Owen nearly tipped over in his chair. He clawed the edge of his workstation to stay reasonably upright. "You two knew? H-how?"
Tosh pushed back up her glasses with a finger and gave him a smug look.
"Never try to delete CCTV footage under my watch," Tosh told him. "I always know and I'll always find it again."
Christ. Owen smacked his forehead with a palm. "Listen, girls, Jonesy doesn't know yet. All right? Jack should really be the one to tell him."
"Tell me what?"
This time, the chair did tip over and Owen was left staring at his feet still on the edge of his station.
"Wear a bell, damn it!" Owen barked at the upside down Ianto as he tried to untangle himself from the office chair. Pair of useless gits, Gwen and Tosh stared at Jonesy while Owen tried to sort out chair legs and his legs. They didn't offer to help him.
"Tell me what?" Ianto repeated. He appeared nonplussed by the fact that Owen was on the ground.
"Oh," Gwen sounded way too cheerful for his comfort, "about the dinner."
Owen could just hear the eyebrow going up on Ianto's face. "Dinner? What dinner?"
Tosh jumped in. "To Albo."
Jesus Christ, this was getting worse and worse. Albo?
"Albo?" Even Ianto sound impressed. "I heard it takes at least a month to get reservations."
Two, actually. Owen struggled back upright onto his chair. He glared at Gwen and Tosh, who merely stared back with twin "What?" on their faces.
"Jack had me make the reservations." Tosh's fingers flew across her keyboard with the grace of a pianist and Albo's main reservation page popped up. A few more clicks and unbelievably, Jack's name popped up.
"There you are," Tosh chirped and it was too bad she was a girl because Owen really wanted to shoot something now and she was conveniently nearby.
"Eight o'clock for two." Tosh did a scary Cheshire cat impression as her spectacles gleamed.
"Oh." Ianto turned back towards the office, his brow knitted. "Odd, he didn't mention it before…"
"He probably forgot. You know how he is. Jack was telling me all about it when we were Weevil hunting before," Gwen said hastily. She draped an arm around Ianto's shoulders and steered him towards the cog door.
"Why don't you close the Tourist center early and we can look at their menu online," Gwen was still going as she dragged poor Teaboy further away, "I heard the Chilean sea bass is amazing. I've been trying to get Rhys to take me there for months since it opened. Oh, and I heard Daniel Craig was there just yesterday and his date was this gorgeous…"
Owen blinked as the pair disappeared behind the cogwheel doors just as Ianto admitted he always wanted to try the squab.
"Of all the…" Owen twisted around and glowered at Tosh.
"Albo?"
Tosh blew lightly at her nails. "Their security encryption isn't worth shit," she remarked in a mild voice. It was scary how she would sound like that whether hacking into Wales' most exclusive bistro or building one of those teeny weeny bombs with the very big explosions.
"Oh," Tosh added, "By the way, you're welcome."
Owen's eyebrows disappeared high into his hairline. "For what?"
"You did say Jack wants to tell Ianto himself," Tosh reminded him. "I think Jack would have been very cross with you if you had accidentally told Ianto before he could." Tosh nodded towards the office. "Better let Jack know he has a date in five hours." Her teeth flashed. "I think Albo would be the perfect place to tell Ianto, don't you think?"
Owen groaned to himself as he rose from his chair. Brilliant. He trudged towards Jack's office, feeling oddly like he was shuffling towards the gallows.
"Owen?"
Glad for the delay to his doom, Owen peered over his shoulder.
Tosh was typing into her computer. "I made our reservations for seven next week." Tosh smirked at Owen. "You can thank me properly then." She hummed as her fingers went click click click. "I've always wanted to try the kobe steak," Tosh mused out loud, "I heard it goes excellent with their 1984 Vellenas Merlot."
Owen snapped his mouth shut and pivot on his heel, practically lunging for the door now.
"Oh, and orchids," Tosh called out after him, "roses are too cliché."
The glass rattled when Owen slammed the door and drowned out his rather impolite response.
"Oi," Owen snarled as soon as the door shut behind him. "I want to request a future reimbursement on a very expensive future dinner!"
No one answered because no one was here.
"Jack?" Owen observed the half eaten sandwich on the desk, the untouched coffee. Owen tentatively poked his head through the hatchway.
"Jack?"
"Yeah," Jack answered hoarsely and came into view under the manhole looking all pasty and unsteady.
Owen winced. "Lunch?"
Jack settled a hand on his stomach and swallowed convulsively. "Lunch," he shakily confirmed.
"Lie down on the bed," Owen instructed as he climbed the ladder.
"I thought morning sickness comes only in the morning," Jack complained even as he complied.
"You never do things easy," Owen returned as he unfolded the stethoscope from his lab coat. He breathed on the chest piece until it warmed. He put on the earpieces and nodded curtly at Jack. "Sit up."
"I thought you wanted me to lie down?"
Owen gestured with a fist and the stethoscope in his other hand. Jack sighed and sat up, his back hunched as Owen pulled up his shirt.
"Cough," Owen muttered as he listened.
"I have morning sickness, not a cold."
"Don't make me stick this somewhere inappropriate," Owen threatened, "I'm a doctor. I know many places."
Jack promptly coughed.
Owen considered the top of Jack's head as he counted the captain's rapid pulse with two fingers. He frowned. A hundred and three. Hm, not too good. Normal for male pregnancy though? Not normal? The flushed skin he could feel made his own stomach churn. Jack mentioned immunosuppressant. Was the rise in temperature a symptom or to be expected?
It was starting to dawn on Owen what was going to happen in less than a year; all the things that could go wrong, all the things they all have to watch out for.
Now Owen felt sick.
"I don't know how to tell him."
Owen looked over to Jack, but Jack was staring at the ladder.
Jack shrugged. "I don't even know if I should. Maybe it's better he doesn't know in case I don't…"
"I thought it was pretty much decided that you're keeping the baby," Owen murmured as he felt under Jack's jaw for his glands. "And I think he'll notice in a few more months."
"Seven," Jack said, his eyes elsewhere as he remembered. "Before I lost…at six months, I still wasn't showing yet. Most male pregnancies…I heard mid-trimester."
"Lots of mothers would love that," Owen told Jack. Done, he leaned back on the ladder.
Jack's shoulders lifted once. "The female body was engineered so the abdomen can expand out to accommodate growing fetus. Men? Grows inward, pressing on major organs and damaging muscle." Jack grimaced and fidgeted uneasily on the bed. "My kidneys were failing when it happened."
Owen made a sound and grimaced. "Hence the forty percent you were telling me. Human body's own immune system probably aborts the fetus in self-defense." Owen harrumphed. "I think we can get around that with that immunosuppressant therapy you were telling me about and—"
"Stop planning this for me!" Jack narrowed his eyes at Owen. They glinted darkly in the gloom of his quarters. "Stop acting like I…like I've decided. I haven't. There's too much to consider, too much that could go wrong and what it could mean for the baby."
Owen watched Jack from the ladder. "What about Ianto?" Owen asked.
Jack set his jaw and stared hard at the ladder.
Owen sighed. He was fine with the alien autopsies and patching up small scrapes the team seemed prone to. But this? Owen glowered at Jack and wished he could throttle him. Stupid Jack. Had to get himself pregnant.
"You know, there was a time," Owen finally said, his throat tight, "when I was going to marry my Kate and we would live forever, together at least."
Jack glanced over at Owen.
Owen coughed and squirmed. A rung dug into his spine but it felt like the only thing holding him up. "We made plans, thought about a house, thought about children." Owen smirked to himself. "A friend had once asked us how many kids we want and together we had answered."
"She said three." Owen met Jack's face and offered a crooked grin.
"I said five."
Owen chuckled to himself. He could still hear Kate's laugh at his response.
Jack's face crinkled to a sad sort of smile. "You wanted a family or a rugby team?"
Funny, Kate had asked the same thing then. Owen shrugged. "Yeah, well. We never did get that family." He sighed. "And when I couldn't save her, that was it. Pictures, her favorite scarf, her mug, that was all I had left of her."
"Memories," Jack interjected with a sad certainty that Owen was afraid to ask about. "There's always memories."
Owen nodded with some difficulty. "Eventually though, they fade," Owen croaked. He blinked rapidly and suddenly he wanted to punch Jack for making him tell him all about this. "Woke up one morning and realized I couldn't remember her laugh. Simplest thing. I couldn't remember it. Was like losing her all over again." Owen scrubbed his face with his hands. "That day, I thought 'I would have been happy with even one child. Just one, so I can still see my Kate everyday.'"
Jack lowered his eyes to the bed he was sitting on.
"I know we're not here forever," Owen told the bowed head. "We don't know if the baby will be immortal but he or she will be a part from Ianto nevertheless. You have the rare opportunity to do this with Ianto, why not? Give him a chance to find a way to stay with you forever."
Jack said nothing, his head still low.
Owen found it odd to be patting Jack's shoulder when usually, it was the other way around. "Everything looks good. Your pulse was high before but leveled off." Owen paused. "Oh, uh…and the girls made reservations for you and Jonesy at Albo for eight tonight."
"They know?" Jack said dully.
"CCTV," Owen replied simply. He breathed out through his teeth. "Tosh is a scary woman."
Jack smiled weakly, but his entire body tensed.
"We won't say anything. The girls know what this means for this century."
Jack nodded and the stiffness on Jack's shoulders eased a fraction.
"Get some sleep," Owen advised. He tucked his stethoscope back into his pocket. "I'll see about some biscuits for you. Might help settle your stomach." He wrapped his hands on the rungs and started to climb.
"Ianto hid those," Jack slurred, already halfway to sleep.
Owen snorted. "Behind the napkins? He better learn to hide treats better in the future. Children always know where to find where adults hide the treats."
Jack didn't comment, already asleep. Owen stood there, three steps closer to the surface and wondered why he ever told Jack about Kate. He shook his head and climbed out the rest of the way.
It had been a while since he wrote medical notes by hand but it kept things out of computers, off record and avoiding mucking up any timelines. Torchwood Archives was secure and if necessary, there was always the traditional way of deleting a file: fire.
It was once more an ungodly hour in a quiet Hub. Janet could be heard barking to the Weevils in the next cell, the pterodactyl cawing and shuffling from its lofty nest. It was white noise for Owen while he scribbled in careful print, substituting words in pig Latin so his missives couldn't be read easily at first glance. Not brilliant, but it'll have to do for now.
Rereading his notes, Owen was disturbed to realize just how little was known. If Jack decided to keep the pregnancy, Owen knew he needed to ask many more questions.
Owen glanced up at his computer LCD screen at the pinpoint dot that kept him company all morning. He smiled tightly. In a few more weeks, the little one would develop discernible arms and legs with hands and feet. The thought made his guts coil with both palm sweaty fear and almost lightheaded giddy anticipation. Daft sod. He was going mental, is all. Giddy over someone else's baby? God, he's gone mad.
"What would you have named your child…had you and Kate had one?"
Jack's voice came as no surprise. Owen heard the hesitant footfalls still by the couch fifteen minutes ago.
"Elizabeth," Owen murmured as he wrote down the scant things Jack did tell him about his first pregnancy.
"Kate wished her mother had named her Elizabeth. She'd wanted a daughter Elizabeth." Owen shrugged. "Ethan if it was a boy."
Jack stepped closer to the rail above Owen and set his foot up on the upper bar. "They're nice names." There was a low sigh and a creak as Jack leaned on the metal railings that curved down to the stairs.
"I couldn't tell him…over dinner." Jack cleared his throat. "The duck was really good though."
"I'll keep that in mind," Owen muttered. He tilted his head back and considered the tired features looking back at him. "You look like shit, by the way."
"Couldn't sleep," Jack replied succinctly. He set his arms on the top rail and clasped his hands together. "Still have that scan?"
Owen pressed his mouth to a thin line.
"Please."
Owen tapped at his keyboard and the projection display flickered back to life on the wall in front of Jack. He scrolled to the right scan until that little dot he had been staring at all morning reappeared.
Jack exhaled, but said nothing. He stared at the scan with an unreadable expression.
"It's not an accurate scan," Owen coughed. He leaned back in his seat so he could see Jack better. "You're about four weeks along and given your previous history, I would recommend one every three weeks, once a week at your third trimester."
"If I reach my third," Jack muttered.
"You will." Owen narrowed his eyes. "Does that mean…"
Jack barked out a strangled laugh. "Yeah. Damn you, Owen, but yeah, I…I want to have this…" Jack reached out a hand as if he was going to touch the display. "I want this with Ianto." Jack's shoulders dropped. "I just don't know if Ianto would."
Owen returned his eyes back to the scan.
"I think he would make a good father, Jack," Owen said solemnly, "and there's not too many people I can say that about." Owen twisted around in his chair to glare up at Jack.
"But if you tell him, I will deny it and then make these nine months hell for you…" Owen suddenly grinned, "mommy."
Jack glowered at him. "What did you just call me?"
"'Well, Owen,'" Owen crowed, remembering, "'when mommy and daddy love each other very much…'" Owen smirked and pointed at Jack with his pen. "You, mate, are the mommy, you are the…"
Owen gulped at the dark look from above. All it was missing was lightning to smite him down.
"All right," Owen amended, "you're…you're the parent. This kid will just be one of those modern families with two daddies."
Something flickered across Jack's face.
"You are going to tell him, right?"
Jack nodded slowly. He curled his hands around the top rail and rocked on the foot balanced carefully on the middle bar.
"When?"
Jack grimaced. "I don't know. Yesterday would have been good, but…" Jack toyed with something hanging around his neck. "Soon. Real soon…"
Owen nodded to himself. It would have to do. Owen stared at the projected scan once more and his chest felt like it was filling up like a balloon. His head spun and suddenly that dot on the screen was a whole lot more.
"Fuck," Owen breathed. "You're going to have a baby."
Jack stared at the display, this time his eyes lightened with the prospect of what lay before him.
"Yes," Jack whispered in a thick voice, "I am."
The End
Next --> Month 0: The Key To Appropriate Proclamations In A More Personal Matter
Author's Note:
Happy belated birthday, Teach! Now, don't you worry, there's smut coming for this verse. Borrowing a page from you, there's an interlude that comes before "Detours" so this of this as birthday fic, part one. More Wednesday!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2009-02-09 08:31 pm (UTC)Now I have to re-read the sequels ;)
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Date: 2009-02-09 08:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-09 08:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-09 09:13 pm (UTC)Thank you for giving this a chance!
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Date: 2009-02-09 08:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-09 09:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-09 09:05 pm (UTC)I love your Owen. And I love how Owen watches everything, and how he and Jack interact.
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Date: 2009-02-09 09:17 pm (UTC)Thanks! Since TOS, I'm finding myself really enjoying writing Owen.
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Date: 2009-02-09 09:12 pm (UTC)I love your Jack in this.
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Date: 2009-02-09 09:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-09 09:38 pm (UTC)As Owen stormed off, Jack's baffled voice rang out behind him.
"How can I come crawling to you if I'm dead?"
If anybody can, it's Jack!
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Date: 2009-02-09 09:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-09 09:39 pm (UTC)brilliant fic and will be looking out for more
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Date: 2009-02-09 09:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-09 09:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-09 10:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-02-09 10:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-09 10:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-02-09 10:34 pm (UTC)*********************jumps up and down**********************
*************************claps**********************
************************brilliant*********************
a colleague I just met for coffee is sitting across from me wondering why the hell I am grinning!!!
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Date: 2009-02-09 10:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-09 11:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-09 11:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-10 12:03 am (UTC)Also: EEEE! You're continuing this series! Hooray!
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Date: 2009-02-10 12:55 am (UTC)oops, oh well, I could halt this series until midterms are over...:D
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Date: 2009-02-10 01:26 am (UTC)(and seriously, I think spending too much time in this fandom makes just about everyone consider an mpreg fic *is saying no more, but...*)
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Date: 2009-02-10 01:52 am (UTC)Oooooooh?
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Date: 2009-02-10 02:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-10 02:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-10 03:54 am (UTC)He does in "Detours". I cheated. This is a prequel to that. Hee.
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Date: 2009-02-10 04:24 am (UTC)Do you know how many bedtimes you made me miss? A lot. I mean a huge amount of bedtimes that I was supposed to be curled up in my nice warm comfy bed with visions of Janto dancing around my bed but NOOO! I had to be staring at my laptop reading your latest post.
bah, Sleep is over-rated...
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Date: 2009-02-10 04:47 am (UTC)Aw, I guess you'll just have to write the visions of Janto dancing naked around your bed. :D
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Date: 2009-02-10 06:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-10 04:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-10 08:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-10 04:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-10 02:04 pm (UTC)Always enjoyable!
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Date: 2009-02-10 04:12 pm (UTC)It is one of the differences in the Storm 'verse where the team does remember that year and it rings them closer together. :)
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Date: 2009-02-10 06:04 pm (UTC)Strangely, it also made me miss Owen and I've never even liked him much. huh.
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Date: 2009-02-10 07:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-10 11:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-11 12:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-11 04:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-11 04:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-12 05:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-12 08:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-12 10:02 pm (UTC)That was so frickin' adorable.. I absolutely loved it! I especially loved how it was from Owen's point of view, and the kind of soft, thoughtful (almost outsider) look on Jack - very refreshing!
Also, the scientific language and explanations were top notch (as always) and made it even more enjoyable!
Wonderful work =] I'll save the next one til after school tomorrow =D
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Date: 2009-02-12 10:03 pm (UTC)Oh, I can't take credit for that. LOL. That came from my old obgyn long ago....:)
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Date: 2009-02-13 02:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-13 02:20 am (UTC)