Ianto lie cuddled close to Jack, Jack's arm around him. He rather hoped he wasn't cutting off Jack's circulation, but Jack never seemed bothered and there really wasn't any other way to share Jack's 'bed'. Ianto found himself absently tracing patterns on Jack's shoulder and, for some reason, wondering what sort of soldier Jack had been – multiple times over.
Jack had confided more than once in these private moments between them that he never really thought himself much of a leader; that he cared so much about his men but was so poor at protecting them. Jack claimed he was much better as a rank-and-file solider.
Ianto thought exactly the opposite. He knew Jack to be an exceptional leader, and knew too well that no leader could ever protect all of his men, especially in a combat situation. Of course, there was also the point that 'protecting' wasn't the point of leading anyway, but that was a different matter. As for being a soldier… another thing Ianto knew well was Jack's notable lack of propensity for following directions.
As he lie there, hand over his lover's unending heartbeat, thinking of all the various uniforms Jack must have donned through his life, Ianto's curiosity prevailed.
"What's it really like, then, having been in so many armies?"
Jack chuckled. "What's brought that up?"
Ianto shrugged. "Dunno. Just sorta… all those uniforms…."
Jack's chuckle deepened. "Ah," he said, winking. "Well, I have some photos still around of some of them, if that's what you're after."
"Actually, I was rather wondering how you managed."
"Oh, it's not so tough, really."
"Is that simply because you disregarded whatever orders didn't suit you?"
Jack pouted for a moment, then grinned as he realized Ianto had the truth of it. "Yeah, basically. Never when safety was an issue, of course. Well… maybe in the World Wars, as long as I could ostensibly cover up my own death and serve some purpose doing so, and not make a muddle of timelines in the process."
"Must've driven your superiors round the bend."
Jack laughed again. "Well, nothing new there."
"No kidding."
"I was nearly dishonorably discharged more than a few times – only Torchwood's insistence kept me in. Which was most likely just because they had it easier as long as I was the army or RAF's problem."
"And when you didn't have Torchwood strings to pull?"
Jack shook his head. "Every form of court-martial and non-judicial discipline they had going," he snickered.
"None of it made the slightest bit of difference, did it?" Ianto said, rolling his eyes.
"Not especially. I mean, it's all a question of endurance. I never cared about being busted down the ranks, because what's the difference at the end of the day? Confined to quarter? So what? I can entertain myself. Extra duties? Keeps me busy."
"That's what I thought. Incorrigible."
Jack just grinned. "Yeah. Thing is, though, armies just never really bother figuring out what will really make a soldier compliant."
"And by the hypothetical indefinite 'soldier' you mean, of course, you," Ianto said dryly.
"I can be compliant," Jack insisted. "Very compliant, in fact. But anybody who thinks restrictions are going to make me play along is mistaken."
"Do you mean to imply that you've got a stubborn streak?" Ianto teased, poking at Jack's shoulder.
"I mean to imply that there are much more effective ways of buying my cooperation," Jack said, catching Ianto's hand and bringing it up to his lips.
Ianto stopped and looked up at Jack. "And what, exactly, might one do to obtain this privileged knowledge?"
Jack grinned. "Well… I can think of a few things…. Of course, that sort of knowledge probably only applies to those in uniform…."
"Will just a cap do?" Ianto asked.
Jack quirked a brow and pursed his lips. "Just a cap, as in 'nothing else'?"
"Will that count as 'in uniform'?"
"On you? Always!"