Title: More than just coffee
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,384 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 432 - Open
Summary: Ianto gets an offer that’s hard to refuse.



Ianto was back working late. He liked it. It was just like old times, except that now he didn't dread going home so much. He was at work late because he wanted to be, not because he couldn't face going home. It was also nice to be finally catching up on a mountain of little things that had fallen by the wayside in the weeks he'd been spending every single night down at his local pub, instead of at home in front of his television, or here at the hub, checking them off his to-do list.

That was why it came as no surprise that Jack should find him in his own lurking wanderings around the hub. Unlike Ianto, he didn't seem to have a mile long list of unresolved matters. Ianto wondered what it was that Jack really did do every night, rattling around this place like he didn't have a home to go to. Although, judging by the amount of laundry Ianto collected from the tiny bunker Jack kept under his office, perhaps he really didn't have a home to go to. It felt kind of sad. Everyone should have somewhere to go that wasn't here.

‘You're still here,’ Jack remarked, coming to lazily lean in the doorway just a few yards away from where Ianto had been carefully reordering a filing cabinet that had, over the years, become completely unordered. Or maybe it had always been out of order. Who knew? Either way, it was now on its way to being the kind of drawer one could actually use methodical searching to find what they were after. One down, one a few hundred to go, he thought, trying hard not to stare down the long line of similar cabinets that spread along the wall. One at a time, he told himself. That was the only way it was going to get done.

‘Still here,’ Ianto replied. ‘Is there something I can help you with?’

Jack shook his head. ‘Nope. Just checking you're okay. I noticed your car was still here so…’

‘So you figured I must be hiding down here.’

‘Not hiding,’ Jack was quick to counter. ‘Just… Well, to be honest, I don't know half of what you do to fill in your days.’

‘It's all largely administrative and boring,’ Ianto said, sliding the heavy metal cabinet gently shut. It managed a squeal of protest despite.

‘Just so long as you're not avoiding going home.’

‘Not avoiding, no. Although, there is a growing pile of ironing that I may be semi-procrastinating about.’

Jack chuckled. ‘Ironing. I can't tell you the last time I ironed anything.’

Ianto did nothing to suppress his smirk. ‘I noticed.’

Jack chewed his lip, then dug his hands out of his pockets. ‘Did you want to, I don't know, go for a drink or something?’

Ianto frowned at the very strange, out of the blue offer. ‘You don't drink.’

‘Pizza, then? Dumplings? Burritos? I'm not fussy.’

‘I've noticed that too.’

‘Or… We could just do coffee,’ Jack offered.

Ianto studied him, trying to figure it out. ‘What exactly is it you're trying to get me out of here for?’ With Jack there was almost always an ulterior motive. Figuring out what it was, that was the challenge.

Jack gave a shrug. ‘Nothing. Just thought it'd be nice to catch up. It doesn't all have to be about work. I was hoping that maybe, you know, after everything lately, you might be okay with opening up a bit more.’

Ianto curved an eyebrow at him. ‘On?’

Jack seemed flustered by the question. ‘Well, you were at Torchwood One for two years before you came here. We know basically nothing about it. Or everything that's happened since. That’s got to be a decent few hours of conversation for a start.’

There was a twinge of guilt at those last few words. Yes, he had kept an awful lot of secrets but it had been out of necessity. After he'd lost Lisa however, there’d been no point keeping even more. Yet, like falling into a habit of addiction, he could scarcely stop himself. Secrets and lies were his currency of trade. He'd put that mask in place for so long he didn't think he knew who he was without it on anymore.
‘I … What is it you want from me?’

Jack stepped closer, closing the gap between them until he was near enough to place his hands on Ianto’s hips to keep the distance between them intimate. ‘I don't want anything. I just want you to know that this is a safe space. You don't have to pretend or be anything or anyone you're not. You're you. It'd be nice if everyone got to see that.’

‘Not sure I have the energy to be anyone else anymore,’ he confessed. Hadn't that only made everything worse?

Jack smiled. ‘I'm glad then. I think I like who you are. I wouldn't want that Ianto going away.’

Ianto swallowed hard. It felt strange hearing Jack say that when he'd been the one who'd had a crush on Jack. Could he really do it though? Open up to Jack about everything he'd seen and done? What if Jack didn't like him afterwards? That was the risk. He'd never been good at calculating odds when it came to people. Was it a fifty-fifty, or more like an eighty-twenty, that Jack wouldn't like what he'd been before? There’d been plenty of moments in London where Jack might not like what he'd done.

He'd been a staunch ally of Yvonne Hartman for a start – not to mention her executive assistant and something of a right-hand man at the very least – and Jack had a chequered history with her at best. Would Jack understand that she'd actually been the best person who could have run a place like that? It wasn't like Torchwood Cardiff. Jack couldn't have run London any more than Yvonne would be suited to Torchwood Three. They were just different. Ianto was the only constant in a venn diagram of Torchwood operations. Even that was giving himself too much credit. He'd been involved certainly, but he was hardly at the vanguard. Sure, he'd double crossed a few people, but he'd done it to preserve Torchwood and make sure that Yvonne had what she needed, preventing cataclysmic alien hostilities. The planet might not exist if they hadn't done what they had.

The big question was would Jack see it the same way? He had his own leadership style and way of dealing with aliens. Would he even believe that Yvonne regularly had dinner and drinks with alien contacts in the city, negotiating deals and brokering peace? Probably not. Then again, who would Jack believe more than Ianto? He’d been there and Jack knew something about him. He could be trusted when it really counted, at least he hoped that was how Jack viewed him.

‘So, you want to go for a drink and have me tell you all the things I got up to at Torchwood One?’

‘Or we could just talk more generally. You're the one who said there’s more to you than just coffee. So tell me, who is the real Ianto Jones. What am I missing out on?’

Ianto feigned a smile. ‘You're not missing out on much, trust me. But… if you're offering to pay for the drinks…’ He was sure he could come up with a sanitised version of his resume that wouldn’t ruffle too many feathers. Just until he was sure just how open and honest he could really be.

‘My credit card is your credit card,’ Jack replied. ‘And I promise this isn't a ploy just to get you drunk and have my way with you.’

There was a genuine smirk this time. No, Jack could do that even without getting Ianto drunk. What was a few beers when you were sleeping with the man on and off? ‘Okay, maybe one or two drinks. It is a weeknight after all.’

‘Cross my heart we’ll keep the drinking respectable,’ Jack said, making the motion with his fingers. What happens afterwards though, well, that’s up to you.’

Ianto didn’t reply. He knew all too well what that could mean. Perhaps he could risk opening himself up a little bit.