"No."

"Why not? It could be fun."

"Secret Underground Base or Secret Organization mean anything to you, sir?"

"I'm not suggesting inviting them into the Hub."

"Your words were, 'Torchwood should have a costume party. We could put out flyers, and we could come as our favorite aliens.' It certainly suggests taking people downstairs. Did you intend to retcon all of Cardiff?"

"Okay, that is what I said but I was thinking more of using the Tourist Office."

"There isn't room in here."

"There is if we move the counter against the wall. We can use it to hold the food and…"

"No party, Jack."

"Ianto, I don't see why…"

"Let's say I agree to this insanity. Who's going to plan it? Arrange the food? The drinks? The flyers you want to pass out? Who's going to have to clean up the mess when it's over?"

"Well, we can all chip in and…"

"You lot would starve if I didn't bring you food and coffee every day and none of you clean up your own mess. Would you really have me believe you'll all suddenly be willing to do those things for a large group of people? I'll have to do all of those things and you know it."

"We could hire…"

"Secret Organization, sir."

"We could dress Owen up as a Weevil and Gwen could be one of the Sleeper Agents, Tosh could be a Fairy, you and I could go as Night Trave…"

"No."

"You're no fun."

"Yes, not wanting to have to retcon half of Cardiff so you can have a Halloween party is horribly unfair of me."

"We wouldn't have to retcon anyone. The Tourist office would be having the party, not Torchwood, as far as anyone would know."

"Until some drunk idiot stumbles on the button to open the door, wanders downstairs unnoticed, and opens a cell or accidentally activates a piece of tech."

"That won't happen."

"When was the last time anything went the way we thought it would? Things always go wrong in Torchwood."

"What if the others agree? You can't stop all of us."

"Fine, get at least two of the others to agree and we can have a costume party."

"Give me an hour."

Ianto smiled as he heard the click of the phone disconnecting. There was no way he was letting this party happen. None. He turned to the computer and turned on the conferencing feature of Torchwood's instant messenger. Logging in, he waited until Tosh, Owen, and Gwen logged in to the conference before he typed in his message.

iAnyone that agrees to Jack's plan is on decaf until next Halloween./i

He didn't wait for a response. He signed out and began shutting down the Tourist office so he could go downstairs and work on the research he'd promised Tosh he'd help with, and watch Jack try to convince anyone to agree to a party and give up caffeine for the next year.

The end.