Recollections found in cups of coffee, open

{{setting: Coffee nook (with sally, the coffeemaker) }}

Rituals impart meaning to otherwise ordinary tasks. The mundane becomes lifted, transformed from mere drudgery to something of importance, something worthy of belief, something in which one can take refuge. They both create an air of mystery and foster a sense that, at the end of it all, everything will be quite all right, if one just believes.

Ianto Jones was the sort of man who could turn even the most commonplace chore into a transcendent act. He imparted a quiet grace to everything he did, even down to his very words and movements, a presence that spoke of efficiency, trustworthiness, strength, and deliberation. When he so chose, he was faith made flesh, a man who both gave unquestioning loyalty and who invited unconditional confidence.

Ianto Jones was a man of many daily rituals. Making the coffee was but one.

He sorted beans with the discerning eye of an appraiser. Ran the grinder and filled the hopper with the care of a mechanic. Filled the water reservoir with the exact eye of a scientist. Listened to the machine go through its steps with the sensitive ear of a musician. Treated the entire process with the reverence of a holy man.

These things he did in service of others, these might have been the closest things Ianto had to any sort of religion. These tasks might offer his only source of refuge from chaos, external and perhaps even internal.

If they were, if they did, he never gave any hint of it away in his demeanor. Not even now, as he tilted his head to watch the pot fill with the fruits of his ministrations, so seemingly lost in the process that one wondered if he might even hear someone else approaching.

Jack stepped down of the stone slab that led down from the Plass into The Hub. Invisible lift they called, Jack could give a better explanation involving perception filters and circuits but what’s the use, they’ve already heard it before. He had been out on a weevil hunt and the lousy thing managed to escape back down the sewers. Jack had a few deep gashes down the length of his arm where the weevil had pinned him up against a wall, digging its claws into him, and a few scratches on his face, not to mention the ripped shirt you couldn’t miss, where you could see exactly where the weevil had scratched along his torso, but nothing a few minutes wouldn’t take to heal. The weevils were defiantly becoming immune to the spray they uses to sedate them.

What was the worse thing a weevil could do to him eh? Kill him – hmm yeah, they could try and in fact they did, they just found it just a tad bit tricky. Actually the worse thing a weevil could do to him, was rip his Greatcoat, it would just be getting personal then and thankfully it made it out yet another struggle unharmed and no rips, just the stains of his own blood, which really wasn’t a problem for Ianto – was it?

He wondered through the hub towards his office flicking his Greatcoat of his shoulders and placing it, on the stand, just behind his desk in the corner, where it belonged. He examined his coat once more to make sure to himself no damage was gone, when he was happy, he nodded to himself and went to lean against his offices door frame. “Ianto, I need a fix, you got any coffee ready?" Dum question, he could smell it when he got lowered down into The Hub. "Bring it too my office when you’re ready"

Ianto heard Jack coming and could smell the blood a mile away. One of these days maybe he and Jack would be able to talk and he could tell him all about what he was now and how... But it seemed like Jack had withdrawn a bit with the deaths of Owen and Tosh, not to mention their return now.

He scowled, knowing the Greatcoat was likely either needing a good cleaning or his expert mending. The time shift had gotten him to think. He'd lost his best friend, tosh, only to have her come back. And Suzie, the semi-crazy genius who'd made his life hell when she'd learned about lisa. And that triggered all sorts of thoughts in his head. He knew he was far gone on Jack, doomed to be a casual thing no matter what, and he realized something Profound. Losing Jack again would break him.

Every morning, lately, he would up and check that Jack's still there. He was terrified one day Theta would turn up again and he’ll go with him. Who can refuse travelling through time and space? And the Doctor puts on a very good show and makes the trips interesting. He knew he wouldn't refuse if he was Jack. (Never mind Ianto had a TARDIS and could travel freely)

His thoughts had turned to one day, when he’ll get bored of helping twenty-first century people (of which Ianto grouped himself into still by habit), and get fed up with all the shit he gets in return from ungrateful people who don’t have the first clue about what he does to save them. He wonders if he's going to get the sense to ask himself, ‘What the hell am I doing here?’ and then he’ll decide to go back home.


Ianto often wonders why he didn't when the Doctor offered him the chance.Oh jack says he came back for them and wants to be here. But some days Ianto looks at him and think he's squandering away life with them. Backwards, uninformed infants of the solar system. He still wonders sometimes 'why us, why now?' He know Jack can't travel with his wristband, but... the Doctor is so easy to reach. A call and jack could be free of all this .... mess he's stuck in here.

It's these very types of thoughts that Ianto's wrapped in when Jack begins the lift downwards. It's only when he smells Jack that he starts to come out of them, smiling in spite of himself when his Captain greets him.

"Yes Sir," He confirmed as he fell into routine and got the coffee ready. "Wondered where you'd gone." Part of him subtly studied Jack, knowing he wasn't completely himself. He slowly was working up the nerve to invite Jack for supper, but was certain he'd be turned down. Part of him wanted to ask his Captain home. The man hadn't been over to the house and Ianto knew the old home filled with his grandparent's things might suit him. His grandad had always talked about the dashing american captain who could charm his way out of anything and his grandmum swore she'd once dated him before Jack had found Estelle.

He watched Jack head to his office, carrying the small tray with Jack's mug on it. He added a plate of hobnobs for Jack and went up the metal stairs, pausing by Jack's door.

The wounds that ran along Jack’s arm hadn’t taken long to heel; nor the gashes on his chest and stomach. Fresh clean skin had replaced the nasty deep claw marks that were there a moment ago. You wouldn’t have known he’d been in a struggle or held any sort of injury what-so-ever. He would never get used to the feeling, neither would he get used to the feeling of coming back from the world of nothingness but he could live with it, he had no choice, he was the man who couldn’t die. Just a fix point in time, never ending, the impossible thing, oh, but he liked impossible. He did have mixed feeling at first about the whole thing, but seeing the human race grow and expand just made Jack want to live to see it happen and he wouldn’t change that for it world.

He knew all too well what dying felt like, no light at the end of the tunnel, no body waiting for you to cross over, you’ll just be greeted with darkness and emptiness he was lucky in a way to have so much rush of life running through his veins. Not so lucky in others. Like watching people around and close to him die, wondering what will happen in the end, where would he go? And on a light-hearted note - would the grey hairs get worse? Vanity and all that jazz. Maybe his questions were better off not knowing too, he’ll just have to wait till the time comes and move on when it does. He tends not to worry about it too much, he tries and succeeds to enjoy what he has got and the whole immortality thing.

He saw Ianto's discreet figure out the corner of his eye standing at his office door, coffee tray was visible too and Jack couldn’t help but grin. He had millions of smiles, one for every occasion you could say. The handsome smile, the dazzler, the high beam and run, the I’m taking you to bed one, the killer con smile, then there was the everyday grin and many more just waiting to be tried out. “You can come in, you know” Jack finished doing up the last but two buttons on his fresh blue shirt, leaving a V sort of shape around his neck and went to greet Ianto at the door. “I think we’ve gone past the permission stage” he noticed the hobnob biscuits on the side of the tray and took one. “This is more like uncharted territory”

Ianto watched Jack, knowing he wasn't going to be let in to actually help his Captain. He watched the play of emotions as they moved across jack's face, knowing there was far more than Jack was going to let on. So he waited, watching and silent, much like he'd always been. All the things he'd been through and done, most of the recent stuff for Jack. The man didn't even know. He might never know. Ianto had no idea when or if he'd ever be able to talk to Jack, really talk, and he schooled his features so he wouldn't give away his own inner turmoil.

"Uncharted how, Sir?" He asked softly, watching Jack eat the biscuit before he went into the office to set Jack's blue-stripped mug down on the desk. He noted the piles of paper work, mentally reminding himself to take them out and deal with it. He'd gotten good at forging Jack's handwriting over the years, why not do it now for the minor things.

It was times like these that made him wonder if coming back from the future and to Torchwood. To Jack, was smart. With the shifts lately and how Jack had seemed to withdraw, he had no idea where or if he belonged. Ancient Time Lord, pretending to be human, pining over a simple human. Like Jack was really a simple human.

He paused by the desk, one hand in his trouser pockets, the other holding the tray down by his side. He waited patiently, picking up damaged shirt and then the coat. "I'll take care of these for you."

Ianto was always giving Jack treats; like the biscuits, but sometimes it was doughnuts, jam to be precise, other times it was things like jelly babies, on another note anybody else would think he was trying to make Jack expand his waistline. It was a good job he got enough excise during day and at night if you count dabbling as some sort of excise, he did work up a sweat after all, and any other games that involved the word naked played a big part in it too. He wasn’t complaining, it was probably Ianto’s way of keeping him happy, and it did, he could never say no to something sweet.

Jack nodded his thanks when Ianto said he would take care of his cloths. He wasn’t too bothered about the shirt that was already ruined beyond repair, the coat was his main concern, you couldn’t buy one like that. You could find similar, in military shops, or at the back of some old geezer wardrobe, or he would even stretch to somebody putting a fake one up on eBay, and watch it make thousands, but nothing would compare with his coat. The buyer would never know he or she had been had, until later when some expert looked over it fully. If only he thought of eBay back when he used to be well, a con man, self-cleaning cons where better, nothing could fall back on you that way, plus it was easier to destroy the junk.

He knew his coat was in safe hands with Ianto, like many other things he trusted him with. Sometimes he felt he put a lot on Ianto’s shoulders, but he never complained, he just got on with the task at hand. Popping the last bit of his biscuit in his mouth he went and settled himself on the edge of his desk next to Ianto. "Well you know, offices have this feeling to them don’t they or is it just me?” he answer Ianto question, swinging his arm around and picking up his coffee, wrapping both hands around the cup, looking down at it for a moment. It smelt delicious and so did the taste. Just what he needed after a weevil hunt.

“Any plans for later?” he asked out of interested, taking another few sips of his coffee, feeling the hot liquid move around his mouth, finally finding it’s way down his throat. “Cus I was thinking, instead of staying in, you know” he paused. “We could just go out, that’s if it stays quiet around here, hmm up to you, what you say?” He really hadn’t a clue, if Ianto agreed, where they could go but he was fairly sure he could come up with something, surely there were loads to do in Cardiff right? Apart from catching aliens and confiscate things that would come in useful for the future. “Have you got an empty slot in your diary for me because I would be glad to fill it, or do you have to go and check?” He grinned, giving Ianto a playful nudge in the side light-heartedly. Actually thinking about it, it would make a change for the both of them

Ianto loved that Coat, on some days he loved it more than the Captain. He'd never mentioned he'd gotten a few spares from the 40's and made sure Jack never had to go without his coat for longer than a few hours. The son of a Master tailor was good at repairs and alien tech helped, but when Jackgot killed in incredibly Coat-damaging ways (like the sleeper agent running him through) Ianto sometimes wanted to smack him.

He was lightly fondling the Coat's wool while Jack casually,too casually, slipped in an offer to go out. Part of him couldn't help but wonder if Jack was feeling guilty about something and was trying to offer this as an apology. He glanced over as his Captain drank some coffee, mentally reminding himself to play it cool. Jack and him... Well, it was complicated. Jack didn't even know Ianto wasn't the human he once was, a secret Ianto feared would cost him his job and relationship. Which was shit, really, when he thought about it. All the things he'd done to be there for Torchwood, Jack specifically, and the man would likely throw him out.

He schooled his expression and kept his voice level, "You want to go on a date now? Where to?" He was clinging to the Coat slightly, trying to not sound hopeful or even suspicious. "We can just stay in, like usual," He offered, giving Jack a way to back out if he really wasn't sincere.