Isn't something missing? [attn: Owen]

"Does that mean you think I'm a strong woman, then, Owen?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, you're in a different country, far from home, and you don't let things get the better of you. And you handled Tosh pretty well the other night," he smiled and allowed himself a small, self-appreciative laugh.

Owen had a fair point and it made Lynne feel a bit better. "Fair enough; thanks. Yeah...it's a bit scary being here all by myself. Cardiff is huge anyway and then on top of it, the culture is different...slang and all. Like, stupid example, but I keep mixing up chips and crisps and getting French fries when I want potato chips," she said with a small giggle, her cheeks going a bit pink with embarrassment at the admission.

Owen let out a small laugh, "Well, if you ever have any questions, you can just ask me."

Lynne laughed a little and rolled her eyes at herself. "Oh, yeah, I'm sure you'd love it if I text messaged you all day asking stupid questions about how to pay for something that's however many quid. I still don't get that stuff...I use a credit card for everything," she admitted sheepishly.

"Well, a quid is just a pound. They're the same thing," he gave her a small squeeze, "and I wouldn't mind getting messages from you all day..."

"So quid is to pound like dollar is to buck in America?" she asked a bit stupidly. "And, okay, so the exchange rate aside...one pound is about the same as one American dollar?"

Lynne felt a little foolish for having to ask, having been in Wales for four, going on five, years, but no one had ever bothered to teach her. She just always went to the bank, deposited her tips, and used her credit card for everything. Plastic worked the same in every country.

Owen was a bit confused by Lynne's wording. "Pounds are British currency, so yeah, you'd use a pound here like you'd use a dollar in America..."

"I mean..." she paused. "Like, in America we have one dollar bills, five dollar bills, ten dollar bills...twenties, fifties, one-hundreds... Do you have things like that here, then or is everything just called pounds?" she asked.

Owen chuckled. "Yeah, we got things like that, only they're not called bills, they're called notes. Like a five pound note or a tenner..."

Lynne crinkled her nose. "I'll never get it," she laughed and looked up at him. "I've been here almost five years and I still don't understand, so...I think I might be hopeless," she joked.

"Nah," Owen smiled and hugged Lynne, "I don't think I'd be doing too much better if I moved to America. It's a different culture. It takes time..."

"Apparently, I'm just really slow at settling... Don't know the money, haven't really got any friends..." Lynne sighed. "It's a little weird to me how time seems to have just passed me by and still I'm in the same place I was in when I got here. I know nothing about the culture and seemingly less about the people..." she frowned.

Owen hugged Lynne tightly. He wanted to tell her that there's always time, but he didn't really believe it. He sighed sadly as he continued to stare out the window. "I should take you to a football match sometime. No better way to get to know the people..."

"I should take you to a football match sometime. No better way to get to know the people..."

Lynne smiled as Owen hugged her tighter. "Is football as big here as it is in America then? I mean, your football isn't that big in America, but you know..." she paused. "Whatever, I suck at talking," she laughed. She knew what she meant anyway.

"I'm cold," she admitted as another chill ran through her.

"You guys call it 'soccer.' It's huge here. In all of Europe, really."

"I'm cold," she admitted as another chill ran through her.

Owen took Lynne's hand and led her to the couch. He grabbed a blanket that had been tossed carelessly onto it and wrapped it around her before sitting down and motioning for her to join him.

Lynne smiled a little and sat down beside Owen on the couch, curling up beside him, drawing up her knees so the blanket would cover her feet as well, and rested her head down on Owen's shoulder. "Yeah soccer isn't very big in my country. Like, it is for kids and stuff, but yeah."

Closing her eyes, Lynne hope the sun would never come up. As fantastic as it was to relax with Owen, she also really liked actually relaxing with him; getting to know him. Considering the speed at which their budding relationship seemed to be set, getting to know one another felt long overdue.

Owen put his arm around Lynne as she leaned up against him. "You people don't know what you're missing, then." He kissed the top of her head.

Lynne smiled slightly and snuggled closer to him. "You'll have to show me, sometime, then," she said. "Okay, hold onto your butt; I'm about to get all philosophical on your ass," she said, tilting her head up to look at him. "Where do you see yourself in five years? Or...where would you like to see yourself in five years?" she asked.

"Where do you see yourself in five years? Or...where would you like to see yourself in five years?"

Owen sighed and scratched the top of his head with his spare hand. "I don't really know," he admitted. "I've never thought it before. I just sort of... take things as they come. I love my job, my life isn't bad... It's just a bit... lonely..." he sighed.

"I've never thought it before. I just sort of... take things as they come. I love my job, my life isn't bad... It's just a bit... lonely..."

Lynne nodded, understanding. "I know what you mean. I mean, I don't love my job, but I know that I have to start at the bottom and work my way up the ladder again, so I'm hanging in there for now. I do love what I do. But yeah, my life isn't bad, either, even though I'm nowhere near where I thought I'd be by this time. I've been lonely, too," she admitted.

"We never end up where we plan," Owen stated solemnly. He drew a deep breath and shook the thought away from him. "That's not always a bad thing, though," he added with a soft smile.

"We never end up where we plan. That's not always a bad thing, though,"

Owen had a very good point. "Agreed," Lynne replied. She'd planned to be married, by now...had wanted to be a mother, perhaps; wanted to live in a small, but comfortable house not far from her parents. Instead, Lynne lived an ocean away, had a cat rather than a child, and was single. The bright side of it all, however, was that she'd met Owen and she thought maybe all of the rest of not-so-planned events in her life had happened specifically to meet Owen.

"Do you believe in fate?" she asked, looking across the room and out the window again.

"Do you believe in fate?"

Owen sighed heavily. "I used to," he admitted. The world had grown ugly, and he had lost any spiritual inclination he had when Katie died. He didn't know how else to answer Lynne's question, and he couldn't think of anything to add, except, "...Why?"

Lynne shrugged. If he didn't believe in fate, then she'd sound like an idiot. "Just curious," she said softly.

Though she couldn't put her finger on it, there was something about Owen that was so very familiar even though they barely knew one another. Like they'd known each other for ages when they were, in reality, still in the small talk phase. Lynne was one of those people who believed in past lives; it made sense to feel so close to someone so new if you'd known them in another life time. There was some comfort in that idea, so she clung to it. "I feel weirdly comfortable with you," she said, changing the subject. "Like I've known you forever when I don't know you at all... Is that weird...?" she asked, looking back at him again.

"Like I've known you forever when I don't know you at all... Is that weird...?"

"I wouldn't say you don't know me at all," Owen started, "In fact, I might go so far as to say you know me better than anyone." This was true. Before Lynne, Jack was the only person he knew that had known about Katie, and no one knew about his mother. "But I know what you mean." They'd known each other for two days, and Owen could think of nothing he'd rather be doing right now.