A/N: This is hard. If you've been paying attention you'll have noticed that I do a lot of one shots and same universe drabbles but this is my only long term, multi-chapter fic. I don't regret it but I just want you lot to appreciate how difficult this is for me. I've got the attention span of a bug and THIS behemoth has been going for three years now. Also I got distracted. That happens quite a lot.

Warning: Language

Spoilers: yes

Disclaimer: Duh.

Chapter 16: In Which Surprises Aren't Good (Except When They Are)

David watched closely (mostly from around corners and behind strategically placed files) for the rest of the week, but there was no return of 'the body-snatcher wearing Owen's face'. The Asperger's diagnosis was looking a lot less likely these days and making way for Bipolar.

Except Owen didn't display any usual symptoms of that illness either. David caught himself wondering if maybe the Owen that stood straight, said yes sir and worked tirelessly was just a mask someone - his father, if you wanted to play the hypothetical game all the way through - had forced him to wear. Maybe that smooth, sarcastic, frightening thing was the real Owen Burnett beneath.

David thought it through exactly once and decided to never think about it again. In the meantime he procrastinated. He estimated a two week grace period before Renard started demanding results and with Owen... not on his side due to recent events, David was going to have to figure out a way to turn this bad situation into a good one.

The weekend came and went and David didn't exactly have a "Eureka!" moment but he did have a plan.

(Line Break)

"M-my performance?" Daniel Fraine had a nervous disposition and a way with making sure accounts balanced. Renard had two more just like him but what Renard didn't know (or wasn't taking advantage of) was that Daniel Fraine had a way with all numbers. Not just those attached to a bank account.

"I know, I know," David gave the older, balding man a sympathetic grimace and looked down at his papers. "I think it looks like you've been doing brilliantly - Just look how you corrected the problem with the Dunder Mifflin account!" no one had noticed the problem had been there and no one had noticed when it went away so Daniel hadn't been thanked or praised before. Now the shy, pale man turned an mottled red as he fiddled with his hands and muttered under his breath about it all being part of the job. David smiled. "But Mr. Renard..." Daniel met his eyes again and David frowned unhappily, shaking his head "Mr. Renard seems to think that you need to be reviewed. He's doing it to everyone," David's false reassurances were seen right through, as they were meant to be "really it's just a witch hunt. I can promise you, with your record and everything I've seen..."

David pretended to hunt for words, gesturing vaguely with his hands as the other man watched hopefully.

"I promise you will be getting a sparkling review from me. I can't imagine what kind of an idiot would let someone as valuable as you go."

Renard would let Daniel Fraine go because Daniel Fraine didn't stand out as excellent, didn't point out his successes and had a tendency to keep quiet when other people took the credit he was due. Renard was, from what David could tell, not just getting rid of the dangerous employees, but the redundant ones as well and while David knew Daniel was perfect, the other accountants would be getting better reviews because they were louder about their accomplishments.

Oh well. Renard's loss.

(Line Break)

Daniel separated the files Renard had given him into three stacks. There was the stack that contained the information of men and women like Harold Dorset. Malignant, corrupt, bad for business and going to be fired. Next to that sat the file that David liked to call Falsely Accused. People that were nothing special but not particularly dangerous and shouldn't be getting the look over at all. They wouldn't be fired but a handful would probably quit for all the trouble the review would cause them.

Then there was David's special stack. Also falsely accused, these were the HR people, Scientists, Technicians and Office Workers that played second fiddle. The cogs that made the machine work but never got any credit for it. People like Daniel Fraine that would probably be cut but were far more important than Renard and Vogel ever gave them credit for.

David could give them credit. David could heap loads of praise and flattery on each one individually while underwriting their success and down playing their import to Renard.

It was more underhanded and dirty than David had wanted to get but it was a necessary means to get to a necessary end.

David liked to think Owen would like the efficiency but when he found the blond in his office, glancing through the folders in his special stack he wondered if maybe he had gone too far.

"Mr. Burnett," calling Owen by his given name seemed inappropriate when the man was violently opposed to him on every matter, particularly that of Janine. Owen looked up from the file he had open on David's desk and nodded. "Can I do something for you?"

"No sir," Owen gestured to the stacks. "I was just admiring your organization," Owen paused, long fingers dragging down one of David's somewhat disingenuous progress reports. "Very clever."

("A clever man," Owen said softly once they were only separated by the files David was holding - now protectively - in front of him "would find a way to turn this to his advantage.")

David nodded with a very small smile, accepting the reluctant compliment for what it was. If Owen were being honest, and there was no reason to think he wasn't, then perhaps the gap caused by David's faux pax could be bridged and the relationship between the two men improved. The subject of David's cleverness was dropped as Owen turned his attention to other files and proceeded to give David a thorough - metaphorical - dressing down for his treatment of the bad apple files. David's hope slipped away.

Of course he did it with dignity, grace and subtlety so if anyone walked in they wouldn't notice the twenty-two year old scolding his boss.

And his boss taking it. Like a bitch.

David was actually starting to turn red around the ears when someone knocked on the door frame. The men turned to watch Janine slip into the office, shutting the door behind her in move that would do literally nothing to expel the rumors that David had been doing his best to downplay and ignore.

He forgot the concern the moment he took in her appearance. Of course Janine was never disheveled and to suggest such would drive the girl into a rage but the redhead looked distinctly... less put together than usual.

Her hair, which she seemed to keep in place with force of will alone most days, seemed frazzled and fell into her face in a way that - while artful - was clearly not what she'd planned for it.

Her hands moved restlessly, brushing the hair back in place only for it to fall again and smoothing down her button down shirt and the (modest for her) navy skirt in a way that did not dispel the few folds and wrinkles.

"Is something wrong?" David set down the file that Owen had decided could be improved with a dose of David's embarrassment. Janine's eyes were wide and bright as she twisted her fingers together.

"Mother's back."

Beside him, Owen dropped his pen. David's eyes flicked to the blond, watching him bend double to fetch it but he hadn't moved fast enough to hide that brief look of shock and oh damn that had briefly been written across the blond's face.

Curious.

"Is that..." David searched for a delicate way to phrase the obvious question. Janine's fingers fidgeted. "Is that bad?"

"No, of course not," Janine said but the way she turned away and paced was at odds with her words. Owen had recovered and was rearranging the files by first and last initial now.

Productive but unnecessary fidgeting.

David had to wonder what was so interesting about Anastasia Renard that it sent Owen and her own daughter into nervous fits.

"It's wonderful she's back," Janine didn't sound like she really meant the words and was confused by her own response. She paced back to the desk and brushed her hair away again. "I've missed her but..." Janine was wearing a ring on her left forefinger and she pulled and twisted at it in distraction. "It's strange. She goes away for so much time and then comes back and it just..."

The redhead was full of nervous energy. Usually well in control of herself when she wanted to be it was odd to see Janine moving so much with no goal in sight for all the effort.

Owen was his usual still self again and showed no surprise or worry on his face when David looked at him.

"Daddy took her to lunch," Janine continued. Unnecessary information. Useless chatter. David and Janine had not known each other for very long - a little over a year, in fact - but he knew her well enough to see that something was not right. He started paying attention. "I guess we'll have dinner together" she didn't sound off put by the idea. "She's been to Africa this time. I bet she'll have a lot to talk about. I wrote to her, about you," for a moment it looked like she might turn shy but the moment passed. "She'll want to meet you - without Daddy knowing. Of course."

Something happened beside him and David shifted attention. Owen's posture had changed. The calm and stillness was replaced by a hard tensing most noticeable along the blond's shoulders. Something shift, briefly, on Owen's face and was gone before David could categorize it as anything other than not right.

"And she's asked about you Owen," the blond didn't seem particularly surprised.

"Is that so?" Forced disinterest as Owen seemed to turn his attention back to the files. It occurred to David that it was unlike his fox to over take a conversation like this and was even less like Owen not to give her his full attention when she spoke.

"Daddy's been telling her how wonderful you are," no wry twist to her mouth, no playing up the fact that Renard had been unsuccessfully playing matchmaker. She wasn't even teasing David, with her eyes roaming the office as though searching for something and never finding it.

David wanted to ask her what she was doing there, but knew, in the state she was in, she was likely to rattle off the first excuse she could come up with and leave with no real explanation.

"I'm sure she's quite sick of me by now, if that's the case," David, hyper-aware of the other two in his office, caught the off note in Owen's voice immediately. Engaging in the useless chatter, his voice a forced casual. Small talk between two people who should have been well past small talk.

"Don't be silly, Mother adores you," Janine was distracted, still fiddling with her ring. David felt more than heard Owen's shuffle. He caught the blond, jaw tense, flipping through a file. The blue eyes behind the glasses were focused at the pages but they never moved to look at the text.

On the off chance that Owen was still self-aware enough to forcibly remove David's hand from his body should the darker man reach out to pat him on the shoulder to get his attention, David decided to force Janine to focus instead.

Taking the fragile looking hands in his own larger ones, David stopped the movement and Janine's eyes finally turned to his.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he'd hoped to kill two birds with one stone; the overly familiar gesture with Janine should have garnered Owen's ire if nothing else but the blond didn't move from where he was staring at the files.

"What?" Janine blinked and seemed to come back to her self with a soft, pretty laugh. "I'm fine, really. I just get so..." she pressed her painted lips together, searching for a word. "I get so nervous when she comes back. A good kind of nervous," she rushed to explain when she saw David frowning. "Really. I'm excited but... I just seem to have all this energy and nothing to do with it," she pulled out of his grasp. "You'll probably be invited to dinner," she directed over David's shoulder to Owen. The blond nodded faintly.

"Unlikely I'll be able to attend," he even sounded distracted. "But I imagine Mrs. Renard will be here for sometime. Send her my regards."

Janine seemed to take that as her cue to leave and, still a nervous bundle of energy, she kissed David goodbye before slipping out the door.

In her absence the room seemed cool, overly quiet and unnaturally still.

"You and Mrs. Renard have met?" David asked pointlessly in the quiet. Owen didn't look up from the file he was flipping through for the fifth time.

"Yes," he sounded uninterested but there was something...

"Known each other long?" David knew that Anastasia had been around quite a bit more before he'd been hired and wondered if Janine's mother was the influence that had caused Owen to start looking at her daughter as a sister or if she were in the same camp as her husband.

Owen went still at his question and when he finally looked up-

David didn't step back, but after a week of watching and waiting, it was still a shock to see those bright intense eyes and those slightly twisted lips on Owen's face. The stranger that David didn't think of as his Owen Burnett watched him for a long moment.

"Does it matter?" The expression that accompanied the question was overly dramatic for Owen, but not, perhaps, a typical 22 year old. One blond eyebrow came down, the other arching up in question and the corner of his mouth quirked up.

David took a breath.

"No," he almost finished with 'just making small talk' but David didn't want to hear the response. Owen looked back at the file, seemed to gather himself and the blue eyes that met David's the second time were cool and calm.

David relaxed and Owen took his leave.

(Line Break)

Thursday featured more angry employees - angry at Renard for the reviews but taking it out on David as the messenger - than David would have liked and Owen disappeared twice when he really would have prefered to have the blond at hand but David took it in stride and tried, valiantly, not to let the day throw him.

Anastasia Renard needed no introduction, which was good because otherwise David might have been startled by suddenly finding her in his office.

She looked... like Janine probably would in a few years time. Her eyes were a brighter, more startling green, her hair a slightly deeper red but she had the same slim and athletic form. The same painted lips smiled at him and the same delicate white hands opened out to him.

"You must be David," her voice was a purr that he'd heard out of Janine a time or two, but her smile was friendly and open so David didn't put his guard up. He let the older woman, though she didn't look to be as old as she should have been, take his hands and look him up and down. "Janine has told me so much about you. She's quite taken," David caught her eye but Anastasia was still smiling and her tone was light.

"And you must be Mrs. Renard," David returned the light tone and smile.

"Anastasia, please," she let go and stepped back to lean against his desk. "I've been looking forward to meeting you, David."

"And I you," David gestured to the chair across from his own and watched Janine's mother fold herself into it, all grace and poise.

She looked like a queen, despite her simple jewelry and kakhi pants.

"I'll cut to the chase, shall I?" It wasn't much of a question but David nodded anyways. "I hear you work with Owen."

Odd. David had been expecting the motherly rendition of "if you ever hurt my daughter" that he hadn't gotten from Renard since the old man was still pretending Janine and David were having nothing to do with each other.

"We're colleagues," he would have liked to say friends but lying to her seemed a bad idea. Anastasia nodded as if she understood his meaning.

"I'm throwing him a birthday party on sunday," she really did cut to the chase, didn't she? David blinked. He hadn't realized the blond's birthday was so near - to be fair, he hadn't known the date at all - but he did note that she had said she was throwing him a party, not that sunday was the significant date. "You know he doesn't have any family here," Anastasia continued casually. "He wouldn't like an office party and I worry that dinner at our house..." she smiled and spread her hands. "Would send the wrong sort of message to my husband."

That answered that question very neatly. Anastasia was not pressing for Owen to date her daughter but felt obligated to throw the blond a party since apparently no one else would.

He wondered if Owen's brotherly affection for Janine had bled into Anastasia or if her motherly affection for him had been the decider.

It didn't really matter.

"Janine of course wanted to throw a huge lavish party and invite all her single friends but..." the older woman smiled. "She did tell me how your little double date ended."

Anastasia was more aware of what had gone on in her absence than David had expected. He gave her a self-depreciating smile.

"It wasn't one of my finer moments, I admit," Anastasia's following laugh was huskier but of the same soft, pretty sort that Janine used to impress. "Something small then. Close friends?"

"And colleagues," Anastasia's smile showed teeth, but David didn't feel the danger until much, much later, after he was already home and remembering the talk. "I'd rent a place or suggest a restaurant but..." the frown did nothing to mar her lovely features. "It seems sterile and distant. I was hoping we could borrow your apartment, to keep things friendly. Comfortable."

Janine had gotten a lot of her little tricks from her mother, it seemed, because the accompanying pout - soft, with accompanying doe eyes - was one Janine used often enough.

"I'm not sure how comfortable Owen would find it," David evaded. He wasn't opposed to the idea, exactly, other than worrying that Owen would be made unhappy and steal all the pens from his apartment as well. He honestly didn't think his own apartment was a good place to take Owen for a comfortable evening but he didn't want to say no to this woman.

It just seemed like a very bad idea somehow.

"It'll be fine," she brushed away the concern with a regale wave and smiled. "Leave it all to me. I can work magic."

(Line Break)

David didn't see Anastasia the following day, but Janine showed up, her nervous energy tightly reigned in but visible in the brightness of her eyes and the briskness of her movement, to collect a spare key from David.

"Don't worry," she soothed and David marveled at how similar her voice was to her mother's. "We won't do anything outrageous. It would only scare him anyways."

David focused on writing up reports on people that didn't really deserve it and pretending that Owen's prolonged absences were easily explained and not the least bit unusual.

Friday came and Owen was, oddly, present for the whole thing.

Sitting across from David in the office, the blond leaned over the desk, his pen moving frantically across paper. David wasn't sure how Owen kept his script so elegant, never mind legible, when he wrote so quickly. Had David tried to write at that speed he imagined he'd have just left a massive smear across the page.

"A good number of Renard's employees are disgruntled about the performance reviews," David was commenting when his door opened. He glanced up to see Janine grin at him and shut the door before he continued. "Several have threatened to quit."

"I sincerely doubt any will," Owen's voice was all his own and mild. The nervous distraction caused by Anastasia's arrival all but forgotten. Janine approached the desk, a different nervous energy coming off her in waves. When he looked, Janine shot David a dazzling smile, so he decided not to be concerned until after he and Owen had gotten through their coded conversation. "Most won't leave of their own accord if only because working for Mr. Renard offers a certain amount of prestige in this business."

David had trouble talking and writing at the same time when he was talking ABOUT what he was writing. Owen didn't slow and the pen never slipped.

"But," the word was slowly drawn out in a way that David knew meant was meant to get his attention. Like all of Owen's other 'help' David was going to have to work out a lot of it by himself, but Owen would give him the first step. "If quite dissatisfied, they may look to accept other offers in their field from a similar, equally lucrative company."

David wondered if the reason Vogel was inclined to look like he smelled something foul whenever Owen was in the same room was because the other man realized just how underhanded and dirty Owen was willing to play.

Janine got bored with their talking and broke in.

"I'm going to be an actress," the redhead blurted out while David was still considering just how long it would take to be established enough, on his own, to offer Renard's bored and angry employees a better offer. The darker man blinked and Owen looked up from his paper.

"It's a small part," Janine continued, almost bouncing in place. David considered how she only ever seemed her age when she was excited. "And for a tv movie," she made a face and David couldn't help but laugh. "But it's a start, right?"

"You'll be a star in no time, Fox" David reassured her. Janine grinned at him.

"Daddy thinks I'm taking extra classes to explain away the long hours. I just can't tell him between the uh... subject matter and my part," David saw something shift in Owen's expression, not unnaturally or alarmingly, but he developed the sort of wry look that he'd come to expect when Owen was about to say something to Janine that he knew David wasn't going to like.

"Honte à vous, mentir à ton père comme ça," the blond's tone was about as teasing as Owen was capable of without suddenly becoming the stranger. Janine didn't see anything odd in his behavior either, laughing haughtily.

"Je vais etre aussi mauvais que je veux etre," the redhead shot back. Owen shook his head, face returning to it's usual neutral expression and went back to writing.

David cleared his throat pointedly and and raised an eyebrow. Janine shook her head at his unasked question and sighed.

"Honestly David, you've really got to brush up on your French."

"What about your mother, does she know?" David caught the brief tensing of Owen's shoulders out of the corner of his eyes but Janine distracted him with an awkward shuffle of her own.

"Actually..." she hesitated and then grinned. "It was her idea," David and Owen both blinked at her. "She knows I've always wanted... and then she heard about the opening and told me when to go to the auditions. She's even helping me cover with Daddy."

Owen muttered something that started with "Anastasia" and ended with "surprised" and sounded a whole lot like grumbling as though he disapproved. Which seemed odd, for him.

(Line Break)

David got out of bed at 7am on a sunday morning, wearing only a pair of sweat pants, to answer his door and never once stoped to wonder why someone would be knocking rather than buzzing the intercom.

"Morning David," grinned Janine when the door was opened. This alone would not have been cause for alarm though it was the first time she'd shown up unannounced. Considering their year 'not' together, David had been expecting a surprise visit for sometime.

What was concerning, though, was the slightly taller, slightly older mirror image of Janine standing right beside her.

David turned bright red.

"Well," Anastasia's smile was teasing. "I hope we weren't interrupting your beauty sleep."

David could just imagine what he looked like to her.

Bare chested, sweat pants worn soft and frayed by frequent use (they were clean, thank God), unbound hair undoubtedly frazzled and hanging about his shoulders, his eyes gummed up with sleep.

This was the man her daughter was interested in and he wasn't even fully awake enough, at 7am, to form coherent sentences in response to the unexpected visit.

Janine didn't tolerate delays or other people's discomfort with anything approaching grace and so shoved a box into David's chest and pushed past him into the apartment without bothering to check if he'd successfully caught it.

Anastasia waited until David stepped out of the doorway before walking in with her own box of... things.

At least the apartment was tidy. Tidy in a way that suggested a maid service and a bachelor that was rarely home, but it wasn't a total embarrassment, at least.

"Charming," Anastasia said in the mocking tone that David most associated with Owen. The dark man blinked stupidly, looked down at the box in his arms and kicked the door shut with a little too much force.

"What happened to nothing outrageous?" he shot at Janine when he'd recovered enough to walk to his kitchen counter where she was turning on his coffee maker. He wanted to be thankful but he strongly suspected that she was making just enough for her mother and herself to have a mug each.

"This isn't," Janine defended without actually turning her attention away from the task. David may have snorted.

"Compared to what she wanted to do?" Anastasia set her box down on the counter and pulled out a medium sized cake. "This is down right understated."

"We're just having dinner," Janine finally left the coffee maker to do its thing and made David put down her box. "I'll cook and-"

"You're making dinner?" David asked with a raised eyebrow. Janine glared at him from half-lidded eyes.

"Yes," she said shortly. "I am making dinner. For goodness sake David, go put some clothes on."

He was half-way to the hall when Anastasia caught him by the arm.

"You might think about digging out a few take out menus while your at it," the older woman suggested as her daughter banged around what few pots David owned.

"Chinese is on speed dial."

(Line Break)

Janine's cooking wasn't as bad as David had first expected.

Nothing actually burst into flame.

"Dear, the chicken isn't done I don't think," Anastasia was hovering but it seemed neither of the Renard women had any practical cooking experience and so the mother's suggestions were vague and not usually very helpful.

"But it's all brown on the outside," Janine protested which, fair enough, was true. David trimmed one burnt end off of the chicken breast to reveal raw flesh beneath. "But it must be done by now!" she protested.

David briefly played with the idea of sending her to finish redecorating his living room and doing the food himself but as David had even less knowledge of how a kitchen was supposed to work (the majority of his meals coming ready made from restaurants and stores, supplemented with the occasional piece of fruit from the mostly decorational bowl on his coffee table) he decided to join Anastasia in offering mostly useless tips and bits of information.

It wasn't as though Janine were totally hopeless after all. She'd dropped raw broccoli in a pot of boiling water for a few minutes and then pulled the brilliant green stalks back out and dunked them into a bowl of ice water, apparently so that they wouldn't turn the sickly greenish brown color David usually associated with the vegetable. Before serving she planned on covering them in a hot, thick sauce of some kind that had proven, after David and Anastasia had taste-tested, to be quite delicious.

There was just the matter of the chicken...

"Maybe if we put it in the microwave-"

"It'll come out like rubber," Anastasia interrupted. "In the oven on low heat maybe?"

"But won't it get dry?" Janine bit her lip and frowned at the chicken. "I'm sure the woman on tv said it only needed a little time on the stove."

"Owen's supposed to be here soon," David reminded her pointedly. After Janine and her mother had thrown some homey type objects (throw pillows, a rug, an afghan for his couch and chairs) around his living room, Janine had assured David that they had time to run and get a bottle of wine - which she'd forgotten - and chat before dinner needed to be started.

That had been sometime ago and, convinced of her cooking prowess after the success of the broccoli, she'd put off doing the rest and told David to find some excuse for the blond to arrive around four.

Owen, under the false impression that David was having some trouble with his performance write-ups, was already on his way.

"Shouldn't you have started the potatoes by now?" Anastasia asked suddenly. The older Renard woman didn't seem so much concerned as she did mildly curious, but her question set her daughter to swearing like a sailor anyways.

And then the buzzer rang.

"I said four," Janine snapped, fumbling a handful of small red potatoes.

"And I said that we should have finished dinner before calling," Anastasia pointed out mildly.

"And I told you both that we should have ordered chinese half an hour ago," David was already walking to the door and so neither woman could actually hurl anything at him for risk of mess or collateral damage. David pressed the intercom button and said, with a great deal of enthusiasm "hello?"

"You have need of me sir?" It was hard to tell over the random static of the intercom but Owen's tone sounded very dry and mocking. David pretended it was just the ambient noise.

"That's right, come on up," he buzzed the door and took his finger off the intercom button before Owen could hear Janine for him to stall. "Well my dear, time to work your magic."

"Thanks for that," Janine visibly slumped while Anastasia straightened her throw pillows. They had the space of time it would take a briskly walking man of about 5'8 to walk to the elevators in David's building, take the long ride up and walk from the elevator to David's apartment before Owen would be knocking at the door.

So not quite enough time for Janine to do more than swear and shake a spatula at the stove. David opened the door promptly and with better grace than he had earlier (it helped that he was now carefully dressed and groomed) greeter the young man in the hall.

Owen looked peevish, which wasn't a good start, with several folders held loosely under his arm.

"Owen!" David said nice and loudly. In side the apartment things became still and quiet. "Come on in."

Without giving the younger man a chance to brace himself for it, David caught the arm not cradling the precious, confidential files and pulled Owen into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him so that when the blond saw what was going on he wouldn't be able to bolt easily.

Fully inside the apartment, Owen became still, his eyes roving around the room, stopping on Anastasia and her bright smile for a long moment before shifting to Janine in the kitchen with flour smeared across her cheek (in hindsight, David would always wonder where that flour had come from since she'd not been cooking with any and David was fairly certain that there wasn't any in his apartment).

"Ah," the blond said with a sort of resigned sigh.

"Happy Birthday Owen," Anastasia walked forward, a playful smile on her lips and her arms open wide for a hug. David felt Owen lean back and decided that the blond's dislike of physical contact extended as far as his adopted family.

"Thank you," Owen was awkward and stiff under the motherly affection, arms held at his sides, still holding the files David had pretended to ask for.

"I'm making dinner," Janine had said brightly once her mother released the blond. Owen looked at her for a long moment, took in the state of the kitchen and her floured face, and looked in askance at Anastasia.

"She's trying," the older woman said quietly with a shrug. With another resigned sigh, Owen shoved his folders into David's chest and, much like Janine had some hours before, walked away without waiting for David to catch them.

"Chicken," Janine gestured at what she'd managed. "Well, it's supposed to be, but I'm sure- hey!" Owen had deftly rolled up his sleeves and pushed Janine away from the stove with a bump of his hip. "I'm doing quite well on my own, thanks," the redhead huffed as Owen washed his hands. "Wasn't I?" her eyes sought out her mother and David, neither of whom wanted to have to answer that question.

"I'm sure you were," Owen agreed mildly, though for him it was practically a soothing gesture. He blinked down at Janine's beautiful broccoli and raw sliced potatoes for a moment. "I just thought you'd like some help."

Janine needed more than 'some' help but was too proud to ask for it. Not that Anastasia or David would have been any good in the kitchen anyways. Janine pursed her lips for a moment, watching Owen drop her small, halved potatoes into the still warm broccoli water.

"I suppose a little assistance wouldn't go amiss," she hedged. Owen made a noise that, coming from anyone else, would have been an amused snort and got to work.

And they were all immensely happy for it.

"Oh my God," Janine was moaning over a taste of... something. David had tried to be helpful once Owen had successfully requisitioned the kitchen but had gotten banned for his trouble and wasn't allowed to taste anything at all.

Owen, showing no visible sign of all the activity he'd just been involved in over the stove, raised an eyebrow silently at her.

To David it had looked the way he imagined a sorcerer at a cauldron would; all movement and precision and completely, utterly beyond his own comprehension.

The end result was the broccoli that Janine had successfully produced on her own with the sauce she'd prepared though David believed he had seen Owen splash some wine in it while it had warmed on the stove, chicken sliced thick and cooked through with something, not Janine's sauce, on top and fried potatoes.

It wasn't the most impressive meal David had ever been served but it did smell delicious and before the blond had gently prodded and nudged Janine out of his way David never would have guessed that Owen would have the skill or would bother to use it even if he had.

"It is deliciously unfair that you cook better than I do," Janine complained as she helped Owen move food to the few decorative serving plates David owned. Owen snorted. "I'm a girl, I should know these things for when I have to cook for my husband."

Without knowing why David turned bright red at that and fidgeted when Owen's glance happened to stray in his direction.

"Well," Owen set the dish he was holding down with far more care than was strictly necessary. "You have time to learn," Janine sighed at that. "And if worst comes to worst, you can hire a cook."

"Or I could just keep you around," Janine leaned her hip against the counter, expression playful while Owen raised his eyebrows at her.

It wasn't wholly unlike how Owen had been at the restaurant. Still quiet, still calm and still almost completely motionless if he weren't engaged in a task but also more open than not.

David thought of that scary thing Owen sometimes became, apparently without warning, and decided that no, that wasn't the real Owen hidden by a mask of stillness and calm. This was.

"So what do you charge?" Janine was asking. David glanced at Owen as he and Anastasia moved the serving dishes to the modest, decorative table David had bought on a whim some months before. Owen's smile was wry and teasing.

"By the hour or the meal?" he asked in return. Janine paused and he walked around her to the table. "You couldn't afford me."

(Line Break)

The evening was a subdued one, for a birthday party. But there were only four of them and the man of the hour wasn't exactly one for noise and festivities. The food was eaten (and moaned over loudly, not just by Janine), candles blown out and cake passed around.

David noticed Owen barely picking at his plate and made a note. The cake as delicious and moist and the frosting quite tasty so the blond likely didn't have much of a sweet tooth. It was good to know.

Eventually it became too late and too subdued for there to be any excuse to make Owen stay. The blond had pointedly ignored the bottle of wine the rest of the group had partaken of and was therefore relegated to "driving the women folk home" duty.

"I know you probably didn't want-" Janine started shyly, the way she did whenever she and David had managed to talk Owen into something the blond otherwise would not have done. Owen cut her off with a noisy sigh.

"Ne vous excusez pas pour quelque chose que vous ne referai," the blond said shortly. Whatever it was made Janine turn red and Anastasia laugh out loud. David felt, not for the first time, very left out of an important conversation.

"Well," Janine recovered, smoothing down her clothes. "I think it's time we went home. Good night David," she stood on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek for longer than could only be considered friendly.

Anastasia hugged him, Owen nodded vaguely in his direction and together they ushered Janine out the door. It was only then that David realized he'd been left with the clean up.

"Great..." with a tired sigh, David decided to put the cleaning up off for another time and to turn in early.

It was only as he passed his living room that he saw the files Owen had brought and sitting on top a white print out.

David paused, picking up the sheet with some caution and giving it a quick look. An apartment for rent in Manhattan. David had no use for such a thing but as he started to set the sheet down he reconsidered.

Owen didn't "forget" things. If the sheet was on David's coffee table then it had been brought and left deliberately.

The dark man set it down more slowly and resolved to make the trip to view the apartment another evening after work and see just what Owen was on about.

A/N: You honestly haven't the vaguest idea how hard it was to make myself come back to this. I had a funny idea for a series of Lex and Owen (not to be confused with Lex/Owen, because no) drabbles which I PUSHED AWAY because I knew there'd be mutiny if this didn't get updated.

You may have noticed that everything is about Owen all of the time in this story. 1) he's the main character, despite David's POV. 2) I don't know how people came away from watching the series thinking anything other than "That blond guy is the best thing since chocolate. Everything should be about him all the time". 3) If you watch the series carefully you'll note that without Owen's involvement, a good 65% of it couldn't have happened. So I feel justified in making everything about him all of the time.

For the purposes of this chapter I like to think that Titania always knew that Puck was wearing an Owen suit and, during this time, thought it'd be funny to play tricks on the trickster.