Someone Who Cares. [Owen]

[Augustus is a SWOObat]

Thom rubbed his eyes over and over again, but his hallucination stayed put. It was Owen, feeding geese and avoiding goats. He had the same smile, and perpetual care-free expression. Thom frowned in concentration. Owen was, and still is, in Australia. He tried shrugging it off and to keep walking, but the farther he went, the more the feeling to turn around grew. He stopped in his tracks, and turned around, walking swiftly toward his old friend. Again, he stopped. Thom straightened out of his almost-permanent slouch. If this is Owen, which it obviously is, then why would he leave his clinic down under? He didn't really know the answer. Leaving his clinic is a very Un-Owen-ish thing to do. Thom contemplated for a long time, staring at his possible hallucination from a distance. "Instead of standing around like an idiot, why don't you go and ask him??" He whispered under his breath, mostly to himself.

Thom walked forward, creeping on the unsuspecting Owen. He grabbed Owen in a large bear hug, and hoisted him off the ground. "How are you, old friend? Did you dislike not seeing mo face?" He didn't expect a lady-like shriek and a purse in his face. "Pervert!" A somewhat elderly lady murmured and scuttled away. Oops, That's ní Owen. He raked over the crowd, wondering where his hallucination could have gone. Thom gave out a frustrated huff, and reluctantly slipped on his Nerd-Spectacles. He hated them, but if it meant finding Owen, he'd compromise. It didn't take Thommy long to find the real Owen. A little subdued, he quietly made his way over to his Aussie. He tapped Owen's shoulder wearily with his gloved hand. "I missed you, seanchara." Thom hugged Owen when he turned around, hoping a lot of things.

This better be Owen. I hope he has not changed... or own a purse. He pulled Owen out of their hug, impatient for an answer. "Well?" Thom searched Owen's face, worry creeping into his voice. Maybe i fumbled my English. Maybe he doesn't remember me. Maybe i need new glasses.. He let go of Maybe-Owen, more than a little insecure. Thom tugged on the tips of his leather gloves, not finding the courage to look at Owen. He finally settled on a reason why Owen wouldn't be happy to see him. Thom had left Owen and Australia behind him without even saying goodbye. It had been such a long time, Thommy had almost forgotten.

[Waddle]

Owen smiled at the geese as he tossed bread crumbs to them by the pond. They seemed a little skittish at first, so he sat on the ground with legs outstretched, elbows supporting him. They came and ate the bread crumbs, seeming content now. One of the very overweight goats that seemingly freely wandered the Gardens waddled over to him. Standing quickly, he tossed some of the crumbs toward it and moved to a new spot. He hated goats. Well, not exactly hated them, just extremely disliked them. He didn't know why, either. After tossing the remaining bread crumbs at the geese, he put his hands in his pockets and smiled, gazing out over the pond.

It was his afternoon off, and he had been determined to do something he hadn't done so far in this town. Feeling the need to explore and learn about his new environment, he had started at the first place his feet had taken him. Actually, rather, to where his nose had taken him, following the smell of hot dogs. Also, where all the excited screams of young children playing on a Saturday afternoon came from.

Someone wrapping their arms around him startled him, and he turned to see a face he hadn't seen in a while. "Thom!!" He hugged his friend back, beaming with that ever-goofy grin of his. "I've been - of course I've missed you! You - you just... poofed!" He gestured with his hands like an atomic bomb exploding to emphasize his words, as well as sound affects. "I- I'm doing great, actually!" Taking in Thom, he wondered where the man had gone. Probably anywhere. Owen knew that Thom wasn't exactly right in the head all the time, but it didn't matter at all. Noting Thom's uncertain stance for the first time, Owen put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad to see you're still in one piece." It was supposed to be a heartfelt sentiment, but it wasn't that convincing since Owen was wearing a sneaky look on his face and had a sly light dancing in his eyes. He didn't realize it.

[Augustus is a SWOObat]

One shot of that goofy grin of Owen's, and Thom felt all right. All tension gone, he stopped plucking at his gloves. His uncomfortable smile was replaced by a genuine one. This was how it use to be. Thom the awkward one, and Owen the charming friend that made him feel at ease. He looked at his friend. It was like looking into the past. Owen hadn't changed a bit. He looked young, healthy, and extremely happy. Owen's explosion-face was too much to bare. "You are still such a child!" Thom laughed his horribly embarrassing laugh. It started as a sort of repetitive wheezing, then a gasp of air, and a nasty hyuck, hyuck, hyuck sound. Thom's face got red from both embarrassment and a lack of air. He cut himself off mid-hyuck and stifled his laughter easily. Thomas glanced between his shoes to Owen's face, never able to stay too long on the latter due to shame. "Ah, Sorry." He tried to push away the awkwardness with a light-hearted fake laugh. Owen already knew about Thomas' strange laugh, but Thom didn't care if he knew or not. One day his laugh would cause him so much shame, he would quite literally die. He turned his head a bit and stared at a goose from the corner of his eye, anything but Owen.

Thom gathered his courage and looked Owen up and down. Noticing his nice clothes, clean appearance. He didn't look sickly, actually the opposite. Owen had a weird healthy glow. A little relief trickled it's way in. Thom felt bad about leaving Owen behind. He hadn't realized he'd been worried. Thommy never worried like this, simply because he never got close to many people. He remembered his first impression of Owen; Suspicious. Owen worked for the clinic, which meant he worked for the government. Thom smiled fondly at how easily Owen managed to win him over. All he did was laugh.

He gave a little shiver at Owen's touch. "One piece? Do you know who I is, eh? I am Thomas Aindréas Harper!" He pounded his chest once with his fist, trying to appear manly. Straightening up, Thomas lifted his chin up proudly, his awkwardness fled once again thanks to Owen. Thom's Irish accent became more pronounced. He felt both good and bad knowing Owen was worried. Thom frowned and returned to his slouch "I'm sorry for making you feel the worry." He gave a weary half-laugh. Thom wasn't going to say it out loud, but he was use to leaving whenever he felt like it. Thomas didn't make friends, so saying Goodbye was never a problem. Owen was lovable, and despite Thom's efforts, they still became friends.

Thom shook his head, feeling a little too sentimental. A rabbit hopped by, and he picked it up and stroked it's soft fur soothingly. He had to change the subject. "Owen, whatever happened to your old clinic, the one in Australia?" He almost forgot to ask. Owen loved working in the clinic, and wouldn't leave it for the world.. or that's what Thom had thought. He looked Owen straight in the eyes. His dream-like smile fluttered and died. Uh Oh. Thom knew the look in Owen's eyes all too well.

((Owen: (:< Hehe.. ))
((Thom: D: Oh crap.))

[Waddle]

At Thom's laugh, Owen burst out in stifled laughter. One hair raised to try to muffle it, but it was impossible to stop his chest from heaving as he fought for breath between the squeaky sounds. He wasn't used to trying to stop his laughing, and it sounded a little like a girl with an unnaturally deep voice giggling madly. He wasn't laughing at Thom’s laugh. He was laughing at all the memories that flooded his brain when he'd heard that laugh. He knew Thom wouldn’t care if his friend sounded like a manly girl. Besides, the only ones close enough to hear them were the geese, and they seemed to interested in picking leftovers off the ground to care.

"And I intend to keep it that way," he said, after he stopped laughing. Letting his arm drop back to his side when Thom started his manly impression, all Owen could do was beam at him. He remembered one of the things he had been so intrigued about concerning Thom: his Irish accent. Owen loved accents, and could sit and talk with a foreign-sounding person for hours if he had the time and never tire of hearing it. All accents except Canadian, it appeared. Canadians didn't seem to have much variety. It was almost like the spoke in a monotone. Maybe it was just his imagination. Either way, he didn't like Canadian near as much as Irish. Tomo's Russian accent was a tie to the lilting Irish.

"Don't worry about the past, mate," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "As far as you're concerned, you're rellie, and rellie forgive rellie and leave the crap behind, 'specially if 'is blood's worth bottlin'!." He nodded wisely, and the face he tried to pull (his professor face, as he liked to call it) failed, as always. Instead, the sneaky face returned.

Smiling at the rabbit, Owen marveled once more at how good Thom was with animals. The dark thought of rabbit for lunch crossed his mind, and he pushed it away. He was continually finding that small animals like rabbits made him hungry. How could he tell Thom why he had moved? "Oh, nothin' h'ppened to the ole place," he said, then paused uncertainly. He couldn’t very well tell Thom about the Talismans, could he? No, that would put Thom in danger from the Hunters, a target to try to get at Owen, maybe. It was safer for them both for Owen to not say anything. "Came out to the back of the Bourke to see the world, learn some things outside the box, ya know? It's like being shark biscuits, though! Honestly, it's not what I expected. It’ll drive you bored shitless!" He threw up his hands to emphasize his words. Then he returned to leaning on his right foot, crossed his arms and quirked an eyebrow at Thom. "And what about your side of the barbie? You certainly ain't stonkered and you ain't no swagman." He glanced at his watch. Good, he still had plenty of time to catch up with his old friend. "Yabber all you want, Yobbo, just don't whinge."

[Augustus is a SWOObat]

"..." Thom burst into his embarrassing laughter again, but he didn't bother to stop this time. Amusement far out-weighed shame. "I haven't got a baldy ta what you're trying to tell me. I'll never get you and your Aussie Blarney." He had gotten the gist of it. Either Owen was calling him a relative or a nice tasty glop of relish. Thom shoved the sentimental feelings down. Real Irish men don't cry. Ever. 'Bottling Blood', though strange, was a very high compliment. Thom thought about telling Owen his blood was worth bottling too, but it was too weird. Thomas struggled for a few seconds, till he got sight of Owen's face. His laughter scared a few geese, and startled the rabbit. Thom soothed it, still quietly shaking. "Honestly, Owen. You couldn't pull off a decent serious face if your life depended on it."

Owen was holding something back. Thom pressed his lips together in a tight line, determined not to ask. If Owen wouldn't tell him on his own, Thom had no right to force him. The sun was falling on the few centimeters of space between his gloves and sleeves. It felt like needles prickling him. He clenched his teeth trying to ignore the discomfort. He felt the breeze wisp across his face, feeling even worse than the sun. His hair moved gently, causing him to shudder. The sun wasn't satisfied with just his wrists. It shone down on the back of his neck, despite his upturned collar. I should have worn the turtleneck. Thom took a small step into the shade, giving Owen a small smile but it looked pained and forced. Thomas never told Owen about his problem. He had tried hard to hide it, but in the middle of summer in the burning weather of Australia overcoats and gloves were suspicious. Owen was a doctor. Of Course, he knew.

Was Owen asking how he was doing? It seemed like it.. "Ah, I've been..fine." That was a lie. Thom was lonely. He was horrible at talking to others. He just lacked the lovable-ness Owen possessed. Thom looked shady in his gloves and long sleeves. His only redeemable trait was his quaint smile, and his child-like face. Owen had much more. He was jolly, and had that goofy smile. He knew how to talk to people. It was natural for him. Thom felt a resigned jealousy. Owen helped people everyday, and Thom avoided people everyday. The breeze took it's toll on Thommy again, and he stepped back a little more, using the trunk of a tree for shelter. He didn't bother with the smile. He felt to uncomfortable to fake one at the moment.

((We need a plot... xD))

[Waddle]

Owen grinned. There was no telling how many times, in the only four weeks he'd been here, that someone had told him something along the same lines. Also, no telling how many times he had to explain what a word meant to him to keep himself from getting either A) punched B) slapped C) fired or D) all of the above. What was life without a little adventure? "Oh, really?" he asked quizzically. "If I couldn't pull a straight one when my life depended on it, I wouldn't be here." That was true. He was occasionally able to manage a blank face, but with the excitement of seeing his old friend again, he hadn't been able to jump into the calm.

Could Thom see right through him? Probably. Thom had gotten to know him in a short amount of time. Anyone could. It was just the part that Owen hadn't been able to hide the hesitation that Thom noticed. But what evidence did he have of that? A tightening of his friend's lips? Not much, but he needed to play it careful, if he could remember to do so. Instead, he followed Thom into the shade. Poor guy... he though, but made sure to keep any sympathy from his face. He just can't stand it! I'd be dead by now if I had half the issues he has... It made Owen appreciate not having any mental, physical or emotion problems. He was normal, if you excluded the random and crazy things he said and the dumb things he did. But, then again, normal was overrated. He just wasn't terribly abnormal.

If Owen had been blind, he would have heard the lie. If he'd been blind and deaf, he would have known it. But he didn't ask. Thom hadn't asked, so Owen wouldn't ask. "Good to hear!" he exclaimed, and he also failed to pretend that he hadn't noticed Thom pretending that things were fine. Owen changed the subject quickly. "Ah, look, I got a unit, wanna come back with me for a bit, to catch up?" Thom might be more comfortable inside. "I'm sharing it with a patient, but he'll be fine, or, at least, he'd better not fuss!" He chuckled, picturing Tomo's reaction to having another person in the small apartment. As far as Owen cared, Thom could stay for a bit, if he didn't already have a place. Room could always be made. Owen could move from the couch to the floor, which he was fine with.

Putting an arm over Thom's shoulders, trying to protect his friend's neck from the sun, in a way, Owen started off towards his apartment without waiting for Thom to say anything. "I gotta be back at the clinic in 'bout forty-five minutes, but we got time. I think catchin' up with a bestie's more important than bein' late." Owen wouldn't be fired. The clinic needed all the hands they could get. "I ain't never been that late before, only by five minutes or so, 'cept that time I ran into the glass door and shattered it... O' course, I was there on time, I just couldn't clock in because they were too busy trying to get shards of glass out of my arms!" He laughed at the memory.

[Augustus is a SWOObat]

Thom's face brightened like a child invited over to a sleep-over. Go over to Owen's house? Suddenly, his day got a whole lot better. Who cared if it was only 45 minutes? It was 45 more minutes to play with Owen. He visibly relaxed thanks to Owen's arm. Thom hadn't realized how much his muscles had tensed. Owen had a strong grip, and the pressure felt good. Not even the slight breeze could ruin Thom's mood. He let himself be led wherever Owen led him. With every step, Thom's delight grew.

His childish smile threatened to split his face. Crashing though glass? That was classic Owen. He always had his head in the sky. Thomas' smile faltered for a second. Could Owen have a talisman..? His smile returned. The thought was ridiculous and Thom laughed at his stupidity. Of course not! Owen is too normal for this kind of world. Thom was fighting with guilt. He didn't want to drag Owen into this. Thommy had seen bad things happen to good people, and Owen was an easy target. He wouldn't hesitate to help someone in need, even if the wounded was a faker. Thom's imagination went wild, and he pictured Owen crouching down next to some Hunter, believing they needed help. No. Owen is nice, but he isn't stupid..

He was a little worried about Owen's patient, but if Owen was there, then maybe Thom could loosen up a bit. He kept telling himself to stop worrying. It's only 45 minutes, and he hadn't seen his old friend in so long. Owen's attitude was infectious, and Thom left his negative thoughts behind. The apartment looked nice, but not gaudy. It looked clean without being over-the-top. Thom was a little too excited. Owen was practically Thom's best friend.

[Waddle]

It was a short walk from the Gardens to the apartment. And it was full of Owen rambling none-stop about crazy things people had done to find themselves at the clinic. For example, some insane drunk teenagers who thought it would be fun to give themselves concussions by smashing empty beer bottles on their heads. An old man who thought he was in his car when he was really on the lawnmower going five miles an hour down main street at 7AM, who ended up hitting a tree. A young woman who had gotten too drunk, passed out near the river, fell in and almost drowned.

When they got to the apartment complex, Owen woke Rubin up by tossing a book lying on the desk into his lap, without pausing in his stride. "Wake up, ya ole fart! How do ya even manage to keep a job if you're always asleep?" Rubin lifted the brim of his hat up and gave Owen a hateful look. "I wasn't asleep," he growled. "I was resting my eyes." Owen only shook his head, chuckling. "Man's always sleeping," he told Thom. He took his arm from around his friend's shoulders as he jogged up the steps. He always jogged up and down them, even if he was exhausted. He jogged over to the door to his apartment, pulled out his key and opened it wide, bowing to Thom dramatically and gesturing him inside the Western style apartment. "It ain't much," he explained, for the second time this month, "but it's home." Closing the door behind the two of them, he quickly checked around. "Looks like Tomo, er, my roommate, isn't here at the moment. Hope he ain't doin' nothin' stupid... You hungry?"

[Augustus is a SWOObat]

Thom nodded enthusiastically, still picking up and setting Owen's stuff down. "I'm always hungry." He could eat just about anything. "I like Corn. And Eggs. And Grapes." Thom took a pause in his excited rambling, and stared straight ahead till he understood what was wrong with that sentence. "Oh. But not at the same time. That's gross." He picked up Owen's channel changer and pushed random buttons, while he rattled on and on about pancakes and soup. The TV turned on and Thom practically jumped out of his skin. He watched for a few seconds with a blank fascinated look on his face, then he started pushing other buttons. Thomas laughed after each channel. Laughing louder when he played with the volume.

Thom was curious about Tomo. He had to be a nice guy if Owen let him into his house. He tried picturing Owen living with him, but failed. He hit another button on the remote and the TV clicked off. Thom frowned before finding something else to play with. "What is Tomo like? Fat? Old? Tall? Skinny? Short? Blind?! Crippled?!" Thom got more excited with each suggestion. He imagined a old man with a prosthetic leg and a glass eye, horribly scarred from all his adventures. He stifled a yawn even though it was the middle of the afternoon. Normally, Thom would take a nap around this time so he could go out to play at night. He liked to sleep, but unfortunately didn't do a lot of it.

Thomas hadn't realized how much time had passed. When did Owen have to leave for work? Thomas didn't want Owen to go. He knew he was being selfish, but he just re-met Owen. He picked up the phone and listened to the tone, before pressing a number. His lips formed an 'O' when he heard the phone beep. He pressed more buttons. "Owen! Owen, look. Each button has a different tone!" Thomas fiddled with the tones for a long time. He managed to play Mary had a little lamb, the Power Rangers theme song, and What a Wonderful World before his ears started to ring. He stopped pressing buttons and panicked when he heard a ringing sound. "Uh Oh, Uh Oh! It's ringing? What do i do? What do i do??" He whispered under his breath. There was a click, and a dainty voice on the other end.

"Hello?" She dragged out the hello. Whoever it was, she sounded young.

Thom looked from Owen to the phone. His eyes were huge. Ah, Hello..

There was a weird shriek on the end of the phone. "You're St. Nicholas!"

"I, uh.." Thom looked at the phone in confusion. "I think you have the wrong person, little one. I'm not Mr. Clause.."

If felt like Thom could see through the phone and directly into her face. Just by the tone of her voice, he could tell she was rolling her eyes. "Don't lie, Nick. I'm not stupid. My mom told me St. Nicholas was Irish. There is only 5 Irish people on the Planet. Me, You, Mom, Jonathan, and Dad. Well, there are leprechauns, but they aren't people, and you're voice is too deep to be a leprechaun."

Thom listened to her list, and nodded, playing along. He learned a lot. Jonathan was her brother, and, apparently, didn't even deserve coal. Her parents were divorcing, and her dog died two weeks ago. Charlotte, the little girl, got a B - on her spelling test. It had only been 4 minutes, but, man, could this little girl talk. He heard a woman call for Charlotte, "I have to go Nicky. It's lunch time and mommy made me star shaped chicken nuggets." Thom's stomach rumbled.

"I like chicken nuggets." They said goodbye, and he hung up. Thom wanted to call someone else, a faint smile still on his face because of Charlotte. Half-way through dialing a different number, he dropped the phone. Thommy gave Owen an apologetic look. "Sorry." He had gotten too caught up in what he was doing, and had forgotten where he was. "You have a nice ceiling." He mentally slapped his forehead, and groaned. Thom tried to change the subject, but ended up saying something stupid.

[Mothtoto.]

Tomo walked up the stairs to his apartment. Okay, it wasn't really his. It was his doctor's. But he was still living there. No, he looked at the new keys in his hand. He wasn't living there anymore. You see, he just bought a new house. A mansion actually. It started with boredom. That's usually how mischief and adventures start. This one included. But boredom wasn't the only reason, there were two others. One was that he really couldn't stand the cramped (cozy) feeling of Owen's apartment, since he was used to staying at his parents' manor and the local hotel. The third was a bit more complicated.

Tomislav was mad at Owen because he hadn't been spending much time with him lately. True, they hadn't known each other for long, but they did live together, and Tomo figured if you were roommates with someone, you should probably get to know them. Owen was always busy with work. Oh, and he had been seeing this girl, or at least they were going to have a date or something crazy like that. Tomo had never exactly been the romantic. Sure, girls like him, but he usually doesn't notice and they quickly use interest at his lack of enthusiasm. Anyways, back to the story. He decided he needed some fresh air, so he went out for a little bike ride around town. He rode his bike down some roads, he wasn't paying any attention to his surroundings. He was too busy thinking and staring at the road directly in front of the rotating wheel.

This went on for about twenty minutes. He only stopped because he had come to a dead end. Instead of just going around at the curve, he skidded to a stop and let his bike fall to the ground at his feet. Something had caught his eye and he decided to check it out*. His eye actually got two things: A small sign stuck in the ground and the large building behind it. He walked up to the signing and read it, confirming his belief of it being a For Sale sign for the giant mansion behind it. The mansion was very modern compared to the slightly old-fashioned town. It reminded him of his deceased mother as well. It appeared very spacious, and after calling the agent, he saw that it was spacious on the inside too. He bought the mansion that day. It was pretty expensive, but not terrible since it was in such a remote location, but he could easily afford it with his wealth.

So, after arranging deals with the agents and owners, he bought it and was soon walking down the hall to the place where he lived just earlier that day. He was very happy about his accomplishment of the day, and was even humming under his breath until a thought struck him. What if Owen doesn't like it? What if he hates it it? What if he hates me?? He was frowning now, but he quickly changed the tuning in his mind to happy thoughts and continued his song. He fingered the keys in his hand and stared at them as he opened the unlocked door. The door was unlocked, which meant Owen was home early, but Tomislav's mind was too preoccupied to notice that.

*ultimatehomesworldwide.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/10/image83.jpg

[Waddle]

Owen laughed. "No, Tomo's our age. Bullet to the shoulder, 's all, he's quite fine otherwise. 'Cept maybe not so right in the head, I haven't decided yet, but we are all original and unique in our own way and normal's overrated!" He ended it in almost a shout, before putting a finger to his lip and shushing himself, before turning back to the food be was making. "A little of this... A little of that... Yes, they all tend to have different tones. For the deffies!" He patted his ears with his hands a bit too hard, stumbled back as his ears popped, then shook his head to recover himself before returning to the food. He wasn't taking note of what he was making, but soon he was wiping his hands off on a towel, checking the temperatures of the stove eyes before looking at Thom. "Quite fine," he said, beaming. Just like old times. "As I said, normal's overrated."

Just then, Tomo opened the door. Owen waved cheerfully. "Tomo!!" he greeted loudly. "Tomo, there you are, supper will be done in a bit, made extra in case you were awful hungry, don't want a good man to be hungry, do we?" He cleared his throat formally before anyone else could say anything. "Tomo, this is Thomas, Thom, this is Tomislav." He gestured first to Tomo, then Thom, then switched hands to point at Thom then Tomo. Then his hands switched against, and he glared down angrily at them. "Rack off!" he ordered harshly, and they fell into his lap submissively. "Thom's an ol' buddy o' mine from the homelands," he told Tomo, swinging his legs from side to side like a child. This was perfect! Thom, back again, here for supper, a quick supper on Owen's part, but still here, and Tomo showing up just in time too! Only then did Owen notice the new key Tomo had in his hands. "Whatcha got there, lad?"

[Augustus is a SWOObat]

Thom rearranged his mental picture, but was too fond of the glass eye and prosthetic leg theory to give it up. Tomo ended up looking like a beaten up Elvis. Thomas watched Owen work, wondering when he learned to cook. "You're most definitely not normal." He meant it as a compliment. Just then, the door opened, and disappointment flooded over Thom. This man was young, good-looking, and fit. The disappointment didn't last long, but was replaced by a strong sense of Déjà Vu. Something tingled in the back of his head, and he frowned in concentration. It only hit him when he heard Tomislav's name. Thom's upper lip twitched in disgust. Owen's roommate was Tomislav? Tomislav Ikron? Thom wanted to hit himself for being so stupid. Tomislav hadn't changed a bit, maybe a little less muscular, but otherwise, untouched by time. He had the unique Ikron eyes, and the Ikron attitude. He hadn't even lost his Russian accent. How could he have not recognized him?

Thom wanted to go over to Ikron and give him a good shove, but restrained himself. Thomas was strong, but he was horrible at fighting. If his opponent didn't go down with the first punch, then Thom was in big trouble. He lacked instinct. How could his best friend be roommates with his worst enemy? It was like Thom's past was coming back to haunt him. Maybe a person from each country Thom wandered through would make their way to Noatak. Thom shuddered. That would be horrifying. He had met some bad people, Tomislav being one of the worst. Thom didn't even acknowledge Ikron's existence with a grunt. He just pressed new buttons on the telephone harder than necessary. It started ringing and when it stopped he answered a little more aggressively than necessary. The person he called was a woman, and talked as if she knew him. He stopped sulking when he realized he had dialed someone that actually knew Owen.

"Ah! You know my Owen??" A child like smile crawled onto his face. "You sound too young to be his mother, and too pretty to be his father. Are you his wife??" Thom squealed with delight, but cut himself off. "Oh, wait. Owen is not married. Then you're his girlfriend!!" It wasn't a question. Thom had assigned her the position. Thom turned his back on Owen and Ikron, crouching over the phone, protecting it from all sides. "You have a pretty voice. I bet you and Owen will have beautiful kids. You have to name one after me. I want him to be a ginger." Thom started listing all the characteristics Thomas Jr. had to have: Freckles, straight teeth, bony elbows, arched eyebrows. "I'll teach Thommy Jr. the mother tongue of Irish, and he'll learn to play good ole football. He's gonna be a striker, none of that lazy goalie stuff." Thom was getting caught up talking to Owen's girlfriend, he completely forgot about Ikron. He was too happy to tell if Pretty Lady, as he liked to call her, was upset or not. Thom couldn't care less at the moment though. Thomas Jr. was taking shape nicely. That would show Ikron who was who. Did he share a name with Owen's hypothetical child? That'd be a big fat 'No!'.

"You have a very dainty laugh. Much too feminine for Junior. He has to have Owen's manly one." Thomas wouldn't curse anyone with his laughter. "What's your shoe siz-" Thom stopped abruptly. He got sight of the Tomislav's keys thanks to a mirror. His left eyebrow started twitching compulsively, and his fingers tightened on the phone. Thom dropped it, and made his way over to Ikron. Normally, he'd feel sick from being so close to anyone, especially Tomislav. Heck, he'd hurl just being in a seven feet radius of that Russian filth. Thom picked up Ikron's hand gently and held it up, letting the keys dangle. The light glittered of them, mesmerizing Thommy easily. His head tilted to the right, his eyebrow still twitching. He gulped. " So.." Thom drifted off. What was I saying..? The light glittered more, and the keys turned slightly. "Pretty." It dazzled Thom, and he pulled Ikron's hand closer to his face. He let out a little whimper. Thom wanted them so badly..

((Honestly, if someone wanted to kidnap Thom, all they'd have to do is have a trail of foil scraps leading to a van.))

[Mothtoto.]

Tomo jumped back in surprise. He wasn't prepared for anyone to be home, since Owen only had a short break before going back to work, and he usually liked to spend it going somewhere relaxing. When he jumped back, his hand was still on the doorknob, causing it to slam shut. When he looked up to see where the voices were coming from, he noticed not only Owen but another man as well. He was probably just Owen's friend (he seemed to make those very easily, and therefore had a lot), but there was something strangely familiar about him. He couldn't put a name on him, but he definitely recognized him. It was bothering him, but he decided not to worry about it.

"Hey, Owen." He smiled and gave a small nod, the suspicious look still in his eye. He looked at Owen for a moment, but went back to the other man as they were introduced to each other. Thom. His name was Thom. It, too, sounded familiar, but couldn't remember why it would. He shook his head, and realized he was quite hungry and the food smelled... well, interesting in the least. "I think I'll have to show you, really," he answered back to Owen. He couldn't exactly explain that he bought them a house. Well, he could, pretty easily actually, but he didn't want to do that. While he was still thinking these thoughts, Thom came up to him and gently lifted his hand by the wrist, dangling the keys in front of his face. "Er... what're you doing?"

Back at her apartment, Adrienne heard her home phone ringing somewhere in the apartment. She quickly found it lying on a table and picked it up. She looked down at the Caller ID curiously. Owen. He was calling probably arranging another date or something. She didn't have much else to do, so she answered it without hesitation. "Hello, Owen," she greeted in her sweet, raspy-ish voice. Raspy because she had a bit of a smoking problem, although she'd been trying to quit since she broke up with her last boyfriend, Evan. And now she was on her next boyfriend. Of sorts. They still hadn't gone on that first date yet. But the voice she heard on the other line was not Owen. His voice sounded Irish, Scottish, maybe. She always got those two confused, but she knew that Owen's accent was the easily recognizable Australian. "Um," she let the man ramble on, which he certainly seemed to like to do. She was about to ask him who he was, when there was a loud crash and he went silent. "Hello? You still there, Mister?" When he didn't answer she put the phone on speaker and set it down so she wouldn't have to hold it the whole time. She could have simply hung up, but she was too curious for that.

[Waddle]

"Why thank you," Owen replied, smiling. He loved those words, even if they were meant to insult and hurt him. He quickly realized who Thom must have been talking to, and nearly squealed like a girl. Nearly, but he didn't, because he was too busy quietly laughing his head off, imagining Adrienne's face. Priceless. Kids? Owen clutched his stomach, head bowed and shoulders slouched to such a degree that his slipped off the counter and into the floor, where he stayed, curled into a ball and still laughing softly. He kept the laughter down so as to hear Thom's words, and Tomo's as the Russian was shocked. They were quite the international lot. A strange one, but, hopefully, a good one.

He scrambled to his feet as Thom dropped the phone distractedly and ran to it, picking it up. He couldn't say anything for several seconds, too busy stifling his laughter and gasping for breath. "Sorry..." he panted, a full half minute later. "That was... an ol' friend... He's strange... in a great way." He finally recovered his breath and heard Tomo's reply to his question. "Just a second, sorry." He turned to Tomo and Thom, putting on hand over the phone to muffle his voice but still close enough to his ear to hear Adrienne in case she said anything. " 'I think I'll have to show you'?" he asked Tomo, confused. "What's what supposed to mean? What'd you do, go and steal someone's house keys and discovered a meth lab inside?" The thought made him go a little cross-eyed, something he did when he was terribly confused and worried. "Don't tell me you found a meth lab!" This was a little louder than he had expected. Only then did he notice the tense air around his two friends, but he shrugged it off as just the awkwardness Thom felt when being around people and Tomo's confused-ness at having a fully-grown man mesmerized by a shiny key.

[Augustus is a SWOObat]

He could hear Owen talk, but the words didn't sound human, more like fish. Tomo's were even more distorted than Owen's. He sounded like a woman. Thomas tore his eyes away from the keys, but only for a second to look at Tomo's face. When had he gotten so tall, or maybe it was Thom who shrunk? Wait.. this wasn't Tomislav. Instead of an imposing Russian, he was looking up into the face of a pretty woman approaching 30. The woman was so familiar it hurt. Every detail on her face was etched into his head. Even her eyelashes were in crisp detail. Owen's apartment melted away, and he was in the grassy fields of Ireland. The wind blew across the grass, making it look like a large, green sea. "Thomas. I want a hug." She gave him a sweet smile, but Thomas only returned it with a scowl. Here he was, a ten year old boy, acting like he was four. Thom folded his arms across his chest, and the scowl got deeper. "You know I hate touching you." His mother's smile took on a forced look. Her lips were pressed too tight to look natural. She pulled something from behind her back. It glinted nicely. Little Thomas drew closer, his scowl fading and his arms slipped to hang loosely by his side. "Give me a hug and it's yours, Thomas." He stared blankly at the object in his mothers hands before drawing closer. His skin crawled at her touch. The hug only lasted seconds, but it felt like ants were crawling all over him. It would feel that way for a long while.

There wasn't any sweet smile on her face, just a bitter one. "Okay, Thomas. You get to have your shiny." Thom's face perked up. He loved his shinnies. He held up his hands, eagerly. Now it was his mother's turn to scowl. "What have i told you about wearing gloves?" Her voice was a soft, cold whisper. It would have been better if she yelled. "You know the sun hurts my skin." His mother didn't care. She yanked off his gloves, not stopping when Thomas protested. The leather slid across his skin, making him feel ill. "You're normal, Thomas Andreas Harper." Thom lifted up his hands, palms upward, staring at them in shock. They were so naked, so vulnerable. He started to cry. His mother dropped his precious shiny in his pale hands. Thom cried and let it drop to the floor. It burned. Thom buried his face into his mother's stomach, begging her to give them back. "I'll hug you forever, just give them back." He let out a whimper.

Something smelled manly. Something soft rubbed against his face. He pulled away. Oh Lord, he was hugging Ikron. Tomislav's surprisingly soft hair had rubbed against his face. Ikron wasn't his mother, but here he had just whispered his side of a private conversation to his worst enemy. Thomas' skin crawled more violently than it ever had. He backed away from the Russian slowly. This was the first time he'd touched Ikron, and hopefully, it'd be his last. Thom looked at Owen. He desperately wanted a bath. Anything to wash of this horrible feeling. "Owen, I want a .. Can I.. May I take a shower?" His voice quivered. Thom moved more away from Ikron, but it never felt like it was enough. Compulsively, he pulled his gloves tighter over his hand. The side of his face still tingled because of Ikron's baby soft hair. He closed his left eye, wanting to rub the heck out of it.