Keep Dreaming

Tough Love part I - Owen's POV

Alright, I'll admit it: while I genuinely didn't want Erin here, I may have gone a bit overboard last night. I started off the night in a bad mood, which always seemed to end up with me getting hammered - and when I get hammered, I always say the wrong thing.
For instance, calling Erin an arrogant bitch yesterday - along with some other colourful insults.
In fairness to her though, she kind of deserved it. She was just so incredibly annoying, the more she drank, the more cocky she got with me.
It started off with the "do something to make me like you" shit.
I managed to bite my tongue at that, it was fairly mild. But the more I tried to tease her - just harmless teasing, really - the more curt her responses became.
I tried to think back to the exact quote that made me see red. It was something along the lines of, "You really think that putting me down will make you feel better about how shitty you feel about yourself?".
Oh, she was such a therapist. And I mean that in the most insulting way it can be meant. Flipping the situation around and putting this on me, as if some deep rooted problem was making me be a dickhead.
No, I just didn't like her; plain and simple as that.
Regardless, I couldn't contain my anger. Although we were both pretty out of it by that point, I remember the moment with complete clarity. I cornered her against a wall and glared at her in an attempt to intimidate her before I even began to speak. To both my surprise and disappointment, she glowered back in retaliation. I bent down and hissed some insults in her ear. What exactly I said, I'm not certain. But I do remember the "arrogant bitch" one quite vividly, because afterwards she went off crying to Gwen, who gave me an earful. One that I don't fully remember, thank god.

It was now 08.15 and I was walking into work with a pounding headache and the worst hangover I'd had - possibly ever. For a second, it crossed my mind that perhaps karma was more real than I was willing to believe.
When I made my way inside the Torchwood headquarters, I was almost instantly greeted by Gwen's preachy bollocks.
"You're a right bloody bastard, you know. Poor Erin was in a state after you berated her last night."
"Oh, fuck off."
I muttered, waving my hand dismissively - I spoke fairly quietly because I wasn't really in a mood for more of her preaching nonsense, but I was still pissed off at her and felt the need to say it. Surprisingly, I didn't get any more lectures from anyone about my outburst last night. It was more of an awkward head nod, in an "I'm-trying-to-ignore-you-but-not-so-blatantly-that-I-won't-acknowledge-you" kind of way.
It was actually pretty handy, because it meant I finally got to do some work in peace.
At 09.45, my peace was rudely disturbed by a rat's nest of red hair and an sickeningly-positive disposition. Erin fucking Evans.
I'd hoped that my little chat with her the night before might have thrown her off, just a tad. But no. She was back to her annoying self, adamant about staying put.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as she conversed with Jack and Gwen far too enthusiastically for this hour of the morning.
Shortly after, I saw Erin sauntering towards me in my peripheral vision. "Fucking great"
I muttered to myself. She looked like she was walking with purpose, one that I desperately didn't want to be part of.
She came right up to me and I rolled my eyes before turning around to face her properly.
"What."
"Can you meet me in my office in 30 minutes?"
"What, you have an office now?"
You have got to be kidding me.
"Yeah, beside the meeting room. Now, can you meet me there or not?"
"Fine. I guess."
"Lovely! See you then."
I snorted.