Really, he should be surprised when this place shows up instead of the conference room. Ianto should be completely, utterly surprised that this strange, warm place has suddenly thrown him in its grip
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Jack happens to be still lounging near the door when Ianto walks in, and for a moment he sits there silently just watching him with a faint smirk. New one. That much is obvious. Good-looking new one, which is the part Jack's really focusing on.
"You're not going to find any of them here, whoever they are," he says at last. "Don't worry, I'm sure they'll be there when you get back."
Jack, for his part, is not dressed the way Ianto would be expecting. Granted, he's usually an anachronism anyway, but usually of a different sort. Today, he's wearing a World War I uniform, about thirty years off his usual style. A very dirty and very bloodied World War I uniform, though both the dirt and blood are old - he could've gotten a new uniform, but none of them had clean uniforms where he was going, so it would have just looked out of place.
Jack quirks an eyebrow at him. "You can stop calling me sir, you know. You're not under my command now, and even when you are, I'm pretty sure I won't mind if you just call me Jack."
"A little," Jack admits. "But I've been a soldier most of my life, so it's not that bad. And if it's a habit, I'm not going to force you out of it, especially when you're so cute when you say it."
He wants to ask how he knows Ianto, what he's doing in the 21st century... but he knows better. It's never good to know your own future, you just start worrying about how you can change it - and you never can.
Ianto is perfectly aware of how adorable the Captain is being, he is. Part of him desperately wants to react, to play back on that playful nature, but the other part, the one that's holding him back...
Is reminding him that there is someone he loves. Perhaps he's waiting on her, but there's someone.
"You might have a little," Ianto will admit. "Though you still look very much the same." Small smile.
Jack's lips quirk into a bemused smile. "I change very little over the years." Ianto, you have no idea. "Still, at least I don't have to worry about gray hairs or anything."
"Not only me. Other people think about it too." But he doesn't sound too offended - he's grinning too much at getting that adorable smile out of Ianto.
"A couple weeks, this time around. I was just about to leave, about the time you got here."
Ianto wasn't even sure how Jack was going to leave. He couldn't quite find the door he had entered from, so that could be problematic. Unless Jack could see it and he couldn't.
"Well, I'm not in any rush," he answers with a shrug. "I go out there, there's a good chance I'm going to get shot. Again. And even knowing I'll survive, after a while, it gets old."
"I can imagine that it does. I'm not sure than much of anyone finds being shot very entertaining."
Ianto smirks. Sarcasm was also another bad habit, in some sense. One that was infinitely worse than his others. Then again, that was something that Jack also brought out in him.
Jack chuckles a little. "Well, you never know with some people..."
And here is where curiosity gets the better of him. Hey, he's going to be leaving soon, and in a place where he can't wreak too much havoc with the timeline... "Do you mind if I ask what I'm doing in the 21st century? In vague terms? I mean, I don't usually have a staff..."
Ianto considers the question for a moment, trying to form the best possible answer. He refused to blatantly reveal that he worked for Torchwood, that was for certain.
"There's a Rift just under Cardiff. We basically take care of what might slip through on occasion." Which, really, that was more than it really should be.
He looks back up to the other, "And you, Jack," the name feels odd, "are the leader of the team."
Jack's eyebrows go up a little. It's not that it's... weird for him to be a leader. He's been a soldier for so long, and usually an officer... but somehow he hadn't really considered it outside of a military setting.
But he puts it together. Rift. Cardiff. The cleanup crew. Torchwood. Wasn't like he hadn't been at least vaguely associated with them practically since they started - and there was a long time when they were half-convinced he was an alien, with the not-dying thing... It had taken him forever to talk them down from that conclusion.
Very little of his thoughts show on his face. He flashes Ianto a smile. "Somehow, I'm not surprised. Thanks."
Cardiff's as good a place as any to wait for the Doctor, and better than most.
"You're not going to find any of them here, whoever they are," he says at last. "Don't worry, I'm sure they'll be there when you get back."
Jack, for his part, is not dressed the way Ianto would be expecting. Granted, he's usually an anachronism anyway, but usually of a different sort. Today, he's wearing a World War I uniform, about thirty years off his usual style. A very dirty and very bloodied World War I uniform, though both the dirt and blood are old - he could've gotten a new uniform, but none of them had clean uniforms where he was going, so it would have just looked out of place.
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Ianto gives yet another not. It's not entirely strange for him to call Jack, well, Jack, but he knows the name will feel odd to his mouth.
"I suppose with World War I and the like, you'd get rather tired of it?"
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He wants to ask how he knows Ianto, what he's doing in the 21st century... but he knows better. It's never good to know your own future, you just start worrying about how you can change it - and you never can.
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"I will do my best to stop it, then." Though, the narration thinks it unlikely that he ever will.
Ianto, even if Jack inquired, would probably keep details for himself. After all, it was Torchwood. Things, sometimes, were much better left unsaid.
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"Thanks. I'm not really one for formality. Unless I've really changed by the time you know me... What do you think?"
Again with the charming smile. He's determined to get something out of him.
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Is reminding him that there is someone he loves. Perhaps he's waiting on her, but there's someone.
"You might have a little," Ianto will admit. "Though you still look very much the same." Small smile.
Interpret as you will.
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Ianto (finally!) visibly relaxes, even if it is only a little bit. And look! There's even a vaguely sweet smile on his lips.
"How long have you been here?" Don't mind if he takes a smaller step closer as he looks about.
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"A couple weeks, this time around. I was just about to leave, about the time you got here."
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Ianto wasn't even sure how Jack was going to leave. He couldn't quite find the door he had entered from, so that could be problematic. Unless Jack could see it and he couldn't.
This place was a mess.
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Ianto smirks. Sarcasm was also another bad habit, in some sense. One that was infinitely worse than his others. Then again, that was something that Jack also brought out in him.
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And here is where curiosity gets the better of him. Hey, he's going to be leaving soon, and in a place where he can't wreak too much havoc with the timeline... "Do you mind if I ask what I'm doing in the 21st century? In vague terms? I mean, I don't usually have a staff..."
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"There's a Rift just under Cardiff. We basically take care of what might slip through on occasion." Which, really, that was more than it really should be.
He looks back up to the other, "And you, Jack," the name feels odd, "are the leader of the team."
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But he puts it together. Rift. Cardiff. The cleanup crew. Torchwood. Wasn't like he hadn't been at least vaguely associated with them practically since they started - and there was a long time when they were half-convinced he was an alien, with the not-dying thing... It had taken him forever to talk them down from that conclusion.
Very little of his thoughts show on his face. He flashes Ianto a smile. "Somehow, I'm not surprised. Thanks."
Cardiff's as good a place as any to wait for the Doctor, and better than most.
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