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"Ianto. A word please."
The voice came out over the speakers; Ianto sighed and set down the file he'd been working on. As if on cue, all three heads raised; Gwen looking smug, Tosh looking envious, Owen looking disdainful.
"In a moment," he called back to the air. "Gwen, do you have the expenses?" Gwen held up the folder and grinned at him as Ianto took it. "Might as well carry them up." He raised his voice. "Coffee, sir?"
"No, thank you," the voice came again.
"Taking dictation?" Owen asked, as Ianto passed him.
"Taking your pulse?" Ianto retorted. Owen's taunting look faded.
Jack's office was messy again; Jack liked a certain amount of chaos, and Ianto had seen the disturbed, confused look that passed over the Captain's face on his return from wherever-he'd-been, when he found his office clean and waiting. What else had they had to do? Hold down the Rift, ride out the missions, and -- for Ianto -- clean the office, keeping it ready. Jack had taken delight in Messing it again.
"Expenses from Gwen," Ianto said, laying them on the corner of his desk. Jack, boots propped up, head tilted back, didn't bother looking at him.
"Owen still trying to charge his new clothes to Torchwood's account?"
"Well, I suppose death does require a new wardrobe."
"Dead of Torchwood, still kicking around is not justification," Jack said. Ianto contemplated Jack's throat, which was inappropriate but fun to do. "Sit down."
Ianto sat.
"Do you talk to Gwen?" Jack asked.
"Most days. Difficult not to."
"About us."
"Ah," Ianto said. "This would be about her bedside manner remark a few weeks ago."
"In one."
"I wasn't aware I shouldn't." Ianto studied the treads on Jack's boots. They were wearing down; he'd need a new pair soon. "After all, you shoved your tongue down my throat and then disappeared. People are bound to ask questions."
"I don't think," Jack said, eyes still firmly on the ceiling, "that anyone has ever questioned my manners in bed before. Restaurants, cars, the course of my duties, but never in bed."
"I'm not surprised. I doubt many were around long enough afterwards."
Jack's head snapped down at that. Ianto smiled, small and self-satisfied, in the face of Jack's steel-eyed stare.
"I pride myself on being an exception," he added quietly. Jack lifted his feet off the desk and planted them on the floor, leaning forward.
"Which is why," Jack said, "I wonder why you'd tell Gwen."
"I didn't," Ianto said. "Well, not that. I've never cast aspersions, nor had reason to."
"Well, she didn't pick it up first-hand!"
"Shocking in itself."
The stare was back.
"Surely you're aware you could snap your fingers and have her," Ianto said. "Snap twice and she'd probably talk Rhys round into coming along."
Jack's eyes unfocused slightly. Ianto could almost see the visions in his head. In the small things, Jack was often easily distracted.
"That's not the point," Jack replied, shaking his head slightly. "I don't want to snap my fingers at Gwen."
"You don't have to snap your fingers for me. So why fuss?"
"If you weren't happy -- "
"That's not at issue."
"It is to me. I thought we were done lying to each other."
Ianto shook his head. "I think that's a long way off, Jack. Which we're both aware is not even your real name."
Jack's mouth shut, pressed into a line, opened again. "And I thought I'd be the one who'd changed the most."
"When you came back? It's likely you are. Who I was -- well." Ianto touched his tie almost unconsciously, aware that Jack was fascinated by nothing so much as the undoing of a tie. "This is who I am. It's always who I've been. Now you get to see it, that's all. I have no complaints, sir, about your manners or your technique. Bruises, occasionally, but never complaints. Gwen deduced her statements on her own."
"From what you told her?"
Ianto sighed. Jack leaned forward.
"I hadn't anyone else to talk to. I told her what friends tell each other in the course of discussion; she did the same, which was enlightening but not overly interesting. From what I told her, she seemed to believe you were -- less than satisfying. Emotionally. Pardon the patriarchic stereotype, but it was a very...female thing to think."
"Are you?"
"Less than satisfied? No."
"I don't want satisfied, Ianto. I want gloriously well-fucked."
"Excuse me, Jack. I'm British."
Jack laughed a little at that, which was good; the tension had been entirely too thick.
"So what did you tell her that made her think...?"
Ianto shrugged. "I'm well aware that this isn't your world."
Jack's breath hitched; he had only meant in a cultural sense, but the little hitch told him something different, and he filed it quickly away before continuing.
"Presumably, given your attitudes and willingness to chase anything reasonably attractive and standing still for more than three minutes, sex is not an issue in your life. Not as it is here. It isn't..." Ianto pursed his lips. "It isn't the zero-sum equation all but the more adventurous types adhere to, consciously or otherwise."
"Zero-sum?" Jack asked.
"Kiss, foreplay, you come, I come," Ianto said.
"I think that's the filthiest thing I've ever heard you say."
"Well, most of the time I can't actually form words."
"I take it back. That is." Jack leered just a little. "So, Professor of Harkness Sexuality..."
Ianto smiled. "When we began, it was never about me. That was my decision, my initiative. And I came to realise that it never would be, so long as I assumed you believed in the equation."
"Can we leave mathematics out of our sex life?" Jack asked.
"Tell me. Wherever you come from. Was public sex considered taboo?" Ianto asked. He was honestly curious; any scrap of Jack's history was a welcome one.
"Only at formal gatherings," Jack said, grinning.
"What was taboo?"
Jack frowned. "Why?"
"Curiousity. I have a point to make, but why not ask?"
The frown deepend. "Incest. Rape. Intercession in a monogamous relationship. Not so different from now."
"Gwen mentioned twin acrobats."
"I really am going to have to gag her."
"I'm sure she'd enjoy it, if done properly."
Jack rolled his eyes.
"I imagine," Ianto continued, "that sex wasn't discussed, simply because there was no need. Not in any important serious sense, any more than one discusses cooking or clothing. Whereas here and now, it isn't discussed because so many find discussion so distasteful."
"You seem to be enjoying yourself."
"I am," Ianto said, and saw that this, too, floored Jack. Oh, the things I can show you, Jack, now that the walls are down. Wait. "And making a point."
"So you said."
"If you were to have sex with one of your...contemporaries, you would see to it that they enjoyed the experience."
"As you have proof."
"And how would you know?"
Jack gave him a sardonic look. Ianto refused to blush.
"They would tell you, one presumes. If they weren't satisfied in some way, they would say so."
The look faded.
"Here and now, it's considered bad manners. One should simply somehow know when one's partner is unsatisfied, unstimulated. It's really quite a terrible system, but we manage to keep reproducing, so I suppose it's not completely flawed."
"Are you saying -- "
"Jack."
Jack shut up.
"You take your pleasure, and if your pleasure lies in pleasing another, then certainly they will be. As you said, I have the proof. Vivid proof," Ianto said, and was aware that he was also drifting for a moment, now. "But you don't seem to think you should look for the signs of it -- you assume that your partner, whoever they be, will tell you in no uncertain terms what you've left undone."
"And have I?"
"Left me undone?"
"Left something undone which should have been done."
"Gwen seems to think so. But then Gwen is a very zero-sum woman."
"I'm not interested in whether Gwen thinks I don't satisfy you in bed."
"Do you believe I can know all this, Jack, and not know to speak up?" Ianto asked. "For a while, perhaps, but I am nothing if not observant." He leaned forward. "Do you remember the -- last time, before you left?"
Jack smiled. "Oh. Yes."
"I believe the phrase employed was 'demanding bastard'."
"Yes."
"What about the phrase 'ardent but unimaginative'?" Ianto asked. "As applied to those...previous. Ring any bells?"
He could see Jack casting his mind down through the years -- decades, centuries even.
"A whole symphony," Jack said quietly.
"They were waiting for you."
Jack's eyes were hunted. Perhaps that was too deep a cut.
"Hardly your fault, Jack," Ianto said, leaning close. "Call it a cultural gap. You had no idea you should be looking; they had no idea you weren't. They were waiting to be noticed, and weren't looking close enough themselves. I've done enough of that. We both have."
"So you've bridged the gap, have you?" Jack asked, his voice low and sweet.
"Call me a man ahead of his time," Ianto said, and heard another hitch. He wondered, idly, how much information he might be able to get out of Jack -- later, and in another place.
"How fast do you think I could clear the others out of the Hub?" Jack asked.
"Not now," Ianto said, with a grin that he knew bordered on the feral. "Not for hours yet. Hours you'll have to wait. Hours to mull this over."
He loosened his tie slightly. Jack swallowed.
"Demanding bastard," he muttered.
"Whatever it takes to keep the Captain happy. And, if you'll excuse me, I believe Owen and I are scheduled to insult each other. Keeps his spirits up," Ianto added, standing and nodding slightly. But he didn't move; he waited. Jack looked expectant, then puzzled, then amused.
"Are you waiting for me to dismiss you?" he asked.
"Yes," Ianto said simply. Jack's eyes darkened a shade.
"You're dismissed, Ianto."
"Thank you, Captain."
"Play games with me," Jack called, as Ianto's hand touched the doorknob, "and you won't win."
"Winning only matters in war," Ianto answered. "We play games for the sake of games. Don't worry," he added, just before the door swung behind him. "I'm a native. I'll translate for you when you get lost."
The door closed on Jack's laughter. It was good to hear.