SPOILERS: I decided this needed writing after reading Torchwood Book 4: "Something in the Water". Jack made an off-hand, raunchy comment to Ianto and i reckoned Ianto probably wouldn't let it slide so easily. One of these days, Jack's mouth is gonna get him in more trouble than it gets him out of :)
"You're still here?" Jack asked, hearing Ianto moving about behind him.
"Lot to catch up on. Had all I could manage keeping up with that last adventure."
"Yeah. Know what you mean," Jack said, turning around. "Still, paperwork and filing can wait. You should be getting some rest."
Ianto gave him 'The Look'. "Should imagine I'm not the only one. How many times did you end up getting killed?"
"Just one," Jack protested, as if that was the norm. Which, really, it was.
"Yeah, but you were also not feeling very well." Ianto stopped gathering up papers, put them down, and walked over to Jack's desk. "I've never seen you like that," he said seriously. "I don't think I've ever been so scared."
Jack eyed him. "Not for me."
"Yes, you," Ianto replied emphatically. "You don't get sick. I thought… that was it."
Jack's gaze softened and he reached for Ianto's hand. "There isn't an it. That's the last thing you should be worried about. Ever. Take care of yourself, that's your top priority, always. Got it?" Jack didn't care to admit, either to Ianto or himself, exactly how worried he'd been when Ianto had taken ill. Flushed and pallid at the same time, sweating, and weak… and not from any sort of pleasurable late night frivolities. Jack hoped he never saw Ianto in that condition again.
"May be my top priority, but it is literally my job to worry about you, you know. Had my work cut out for me performing surgery on that coat this time."
"Ah." Jack had the decency to duck his head. He'd known Ianto wouldn't be happy about that outcome, but he also knew Ianto was just bringing it up now to change the subject from their concerns about one another's well-being.
"It has survived nearly as many times as you have. Do try to be a bit more careful?"
Jack pouted. "I try. Honest. Aliens always seem to have massive claws, though."
"Or goo. Don't forget the goo."
"I'm less bothered about the goo. Except when it's caustic or poisonous."
Ianto rolled his eyes.
"So, go on. Get some rest, ok?"
Ianto shook his head. "Not until you join me."
Jack glanced up. "You're wicked to use my one weakness against me like that." Pushing away from his desk, Jack conceded and stood to follow Ianto.
"If you think that's wicked, wait until you find out what I have in mind for you after that little comment you made."
Jack stopped and his brows furrowed. "What comment?"
Ianto's brow arched. "The one you made in the autopsy theatre when 'requesting' a coffee." Jack still didn't look enlightened. "Regarding your knee and someone ending up over it."
For a moment, Jack's eyes gleamed, until he realized the grim set of Ianto's jaw didn't suggest fun in store – at least, not for Jack. "I didn't mean anything, I just wasn't thinking!" Jack said apologetically.
"I dare say you will be. And, incidentally, it's likely to be weeks before my throat recovers fully from that infection. Just in case you were curious."
Jack groaned, but followed along dutifully. The next few weeks were going to be murder!