There was a knock at the door. Ianto frowned, and shut off the tap. With a glance towards the entryway he dried his hands, put a lid on the pasta sauce, and turned down the flame.
"Just a minute." Ianto wasn't expecting anybody. It could be one of the neighbours, he supposed. There was only one way to find out. He looked through the peep hole. "Jack?"
His boss and lover was standing there, looking vaguely ill at ease. There was something clutched in his left hand. A bottle? Curious at Jack's unexpected arrival, Ianto fumbled the latches and opened the door.
Jack no longer seemed lost or uncomfortable. His posture had straightened and he smiled the smile of happy coincidence that came of just happening to be in the neighbourhood and finding Ianto at home. It was a remarkable transformation. Ianto found it all a bit odd.
"Won't you come in?"
Jack thrust the bottle forward. It was red wine. A lovely drinkable Pinot Noir Ianto had purchased before and recalled enjoying. He stared down at the label perplexed. "Is there some occasion I've forgotten?"
Jack shrugged. "I chased a litter of claftoi out of a wine shop. The owner gave that to me as a gift. I thought you might like it."
Ianto nodded and abruptly remembered his manners. "I was just making dinner. You're welcome to stay."
Jack eased out of his coat in reply and followed Ianto into the kitchen.
"This is good." Jack forked up more spaghetti and peered at the sauce. "What are the green bits?"
"Spinach." Ianto studied Jack over the rim of his wine glass, noting the sparkle of delight that flared and then sputtered. Jack was in an odd mood. He had been even before the work day had concluded and he'd sent the entire staff home for the evening. Ianto had laid odds Jack had left immediately afterwards to go brood somewhere, his reply to the various calls of "Good night" and "Have a good evening" had been so patently full of false cheer.
"You're getting your vegetables. I approve." He made a great show of his enjoyment to underline the point.
Ianto swirled the wine in his glass before taking a mouthful. It was rich with notes of plum and berry but dry enough not to cloy. "It was lucky the shopkeeper gave you this particular bottle. It goes perfectly with my not-quite Spag Bol."
Jack dipped his head, trying to hide the fact he'd been caught out. He bluffed anyway, looking Ianto straight in the eye and shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "When he asked if I had a preference I told him something sort of all purpose."
Ianto wanted to roll his eyes, but didn't. His doubt about Jack's story of chasing alien rat-tail hamsters grew exponentially. He knew he'd felt watched earlier when he'd pulled the minced beef and other ingredients out of the fridge and cupboard.
He wondered how long it took Jack to suss out the menu and come up with his cover story before putting his plan into action. It was a stupid, childish sort of game using the CCTV to get information, but in a twisted sort of way it let Jack keep his dignity. By showing up with a gift in hand he didn't have to beg an invitation. Especially after he had been so adamant about his need for solitude.
Rather than getting annoyed, Ianto decided to throw out a bone. He was comfortably full and mellow from drinking good wine. The evening had been pleasant, even if the circumstances were unusual. As Jack toyed with the last of his pasta drawing out the conclusion to the meal, Ianto rose from the table and carried his plate to the sink. A moment later, Jack was standing at his shoulder just a little closer than he needed to be to add his dishes to the washing up.
Ianto stepped backwards, accidentally on purpose. Jack caught him as he wobbled. It was all very contrived, but the kiss that followed was well worth it.