Title: Discomfiting
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 955 words
Content notes: Minor spoilers for Torchwood book "Risk Assessment" by James Goss.
Author notes: Written for Challenge 429 - Amnesty, using Challenge 46 - Comfort
Summary: Ianto was hoping to hear Jack tell him everything is going to be fine.



Ianto took a final sip on his takeaway coffee cup before dropping it in the bin under his desk. He gave it a second consideration and then shunted the bin even further under his desk with the toe of his polished shoe. No sense in making his treason too obvious to find.

‘I hope that was tea,’ Jack said, swinging around in his chair and looking churlish. His own mug sat on the desk almost entirely ignored. The drawstring tea bag was still dangling from the side, now soggy from having soaked up the liquid through the string and into the paper tag for at least an hour. Soon it was going to start dripping. Or instigate its own revolution. One or the other.

Jack, for his part, was at least trying to lead by example, though for how long that might last even Ianto couldn't say. Jack without coffee for an extended period of time had rarely been tested. Ianto probably should have shown more solidarity with Jack, opting to sacrifice himself, or at least make sure Jack was part of any sneaky coffee run he and Gwen had planned, but Jack had wanted to do things his way, as he always did. He was nothing if not consistent.

‘Some of us need to keep functioning as normal,’ Ianto replied, not denying his duplicity. ‘We can't all stick our heels in.’ Or our heads in the sand, he felt like adding. Things were most definitely not normal right now and Jack was being uncharacteristically ineffectual in allaying their concerns. A Torchwood Assessor did not simply turn up unannounced and without reason. Nor did the person in charge let them run roughshod over them. Especially not Captain Jack Harkness.

‘Ianto, this isn't my first barbecue. I've dealt with Agnes Havisham before.’

‘So, this is just a formality then? You've done these kinds of assessments before? I only ask because you seemed a little… panicked… when she turned up.’ Panicked was putting it mildly. Jack had completely freaked out, which left Gwen and Ianto freaked out because Jack was never in a flap.

Jack appeared sheepish as he twiddled a pen between his fingers, spinning it clockwise and then back counter-clockwise. ‘Well, I mean I wasn't in charge at the time but…’

‘But you'll handle her,’ Ianto suggested. ‘That's what this is?’ Because if it was, he was clearly following the instruction manual for the wrong appliance and it wasn't working at all. Unlike Agnes, who had them all marching to the beat of her own drum with just a flick of her ageing Victorian lace frills.

Jack dropped the pen and scowled at him. ‘I don't “handle” people,’ he said, using quotation fingers to underscore how he felt about Ianto’s choice of words.

‘In which case, can I suggest not acting as if you're completely superior?’ Given how it didn’t seem to be working and Agnes was clearly very much in charge.

‘I'm in charge,’ Jack insisted. ‘Agnes being here doesn't change that.’

‘I don't think that's how she views it,’ Ianto replied, nodding down at the fact that Jack was sitting at a desk that wasn't his, relegated from his usual lofty office space. His desk was even smaller than Ianto's and the chair more than a little wobbly.

Gwen had offered up her desk when Agnes had taken up residence in Jack's office, putting paid to any notions that Jack would additionally be using the space to access his private quarters underneath. Ianto had likewise made an offer for Jack to stay with him, which would not have been unusual under normal circumstances, but Jack had declined on both counts. He didn't need his office or his bunker to be their leader. Apparently he didn't need any backbone either, just a stubborn streak a mile long. Butting heads with their assessor had so far not gone well.

Jack gripped the edges of the desk. ‘I do this every day of the week. You know what I'm capable of handling. She turns up once in a blue moon and thinks she knows better than everyone.’

‘Sort of the job of an assessor, I imagine. Plus, she has the power to shut us down if she doesn't like what she sees.’

Jack’s jaw clenched slightly. ‘She wouldn't do that. She knows how costly it would be to not have Torchwood operating here. The rift left unchecked is far too dangerous.’

Ianto nodded. ‘Ah, I get it now. She's not going to shut down Torchwood entirely, just put us out of jobs if we don't come up to scratch. You included. That's what this is.’ He leaned a hip against the desk. ‘You know they say that a cornered animal is the most dangerous kind.’

‘You've got it all wrong, Jack said, bristling defensively at Ianto's suggestion.

‘Yes, I'm sure I must do.’ He wasn't going to be getting any favours from Jack tonight, or any other night this week, assuming they made it to the end of the week without the world ending. ‘Well, thanks for this little chat. I came over here thinking we were okay and now I'm leaving distinctly troubled.’

‘Good!’ Jack replied. ‘And take this with you,’ he said, thrusting his arm out, mug gripped by white knuckles, a little bit of cold milky tea splashing over the sides. ‘The next time I see this mug it'd better have coffee in it or it won't be the assessor who fires you.’

Ianto silently took the mug and nodded his understanding. Yep, today was going to be a great day. The world possibly being about to end would be the best they could hope to look forward to. A comforting thought, indeed.