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There were ghosts in the Hub. Echoing footsteps, voices... screams, sometimes. Ianto usually heard them when he was alone in Jack's bed. Ianto would pretend to sleep when Jack left in the middle of the night; then he would lie awake, hearing the drips and clanks of the Hub, and the occasional ghost.
So he wasn't surprised when he awoke in the dark to the sound of distant, mournful singing; nor was he surprised to find Jack at his desk with a half-empty bottle of booze.
Jack looked up at him with a weak smile. "Sorry."
"No problem," said Ianto, sitting on the edge of the desk.
Jack raised the bottle in a toast. "Happy birthday, Jo." When Ianto asked permission with a tilt of his head, Jack passed the bottle to him.
Ianto said, "Happy birthday," took a drink and gagged. "Christ, what is this? Acetone?"
"Gin, vintage 1940." With a sidelong glance: "You know that World War II was a repeat performance for me."
"Yes, you were there twice."
With a smirk, Jack raised the bottle to his lips and held up five fingers.
Ianto raised his eyebrows. "Risky."
"I wasn't always the responsible captain you see before you."
Ianto snorted and grabbed the bottle. "I need another drink."
Jack took the bottle back. "Africa. Jo was under Rommel. I was under Jo." He laughed hollowly and took another pull.
"Is this where I sing 'As Time Goes By'?" Ianto said, gently teasing.
Jack shook his head and closed his eyes. "Wenn sich die späten Nebel dreh'n, Werd' ich bei der Laterne steh'n..." he sang softly, put his head down on his arms and sighed into sleep.
Ianto carefully draped Jack's greatcoat around his shoulders and closed the door behind him, leaving Jack to his ghosts.