Healthy Eating

Toying with a piece of spicy sausage from the top of the pizza, he tried to be patient. He understood the unspoken need to hang out together, to regroup after the Suzie mess, he really did, but he just couldn't bring himself to join in. He had different needs, and right now they weren't remotely compatible with this light-hearted displacement banter. Feeling slighty queazy, he deposited the well-fingered pepperoni back onto the melted cheese and glanced at his wristwatch.

It had been two days and sixteen minutes; not that he was consciously counting, of course. His brain just happened to work that way. All manner of unusual facts and figures had a habit of popping into his head, always had. In his previous job his ability to absorb and interpret information had been seen as a valuable asset, had had him fast-tracked whether he'd been comfortable with that idea or not. Not here, though; he'd played his self-created subservient role too well, backed himself into a bit of a corner with it. Still typecast, even after… Yes, well, best not to go there or he might start believing that he'd been indulging in a little displacement activity of his own, two days and seventeen minutes ago. And that thought was far more unpalatable than rapidly congealing pizza!

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wishing he'd chosen another one. Further away. Oh god! How much longer? Did they know? Were they doing it on purpose? He didn't want to be stuck here, drowning in small-talk. No, he wanted to be doing something very very stupid and mind-blowingly amazing, but the bastards seemed to be making it their mission to thwart him. Much more of this sloppy eating and inane chatter and his veneer of placidity was going to crack! Giving up the pretence of being interested in the pizza, he turned his attention to the slice of gooey black cherry cheesecake Tosh slid across the table to him. Oh god!

"Try it" she encouraged, licking a biscuit-base crumb from her lips. "It's delicious!"

"Mmmm" Gwen agreed enthusiastically, reaching for a second helping. "One of the best bits about this job!"

"What, the cheesecake?" Owen smirked and made a grab for Ianto's pizza left-overs.

"No, smart arse! Our midnight feasts."

Ianto sneaked another look at the time. Two days and nineteen minutes. Not midnight, Gwen, but 10-49. Late enough, though. Late enough for them all to be out clubbing, geeking or playing at happy families at home. Late enough for them to be anywhere else but here… He reluctantly forked a piece of the dessert into his mouth, almost gagging on the sickly sweetness.

"Thought 'im Indoors was a bit of a masterchef." Owen slowly licked his sticky fingers, eyes fixed on Gwen. "Withholding privileges, is he? All these, ah, late shifts you've been pulling…"

Oh for fuck's sake, could the man be any more obvious?! And as for Gwen, he'd credited her with more common-sense. Not that he cared to dwell on it, but maybe Owen was more accomplished in the act than the preamble. So how did the women ever get passed his leering and innuendos in order to find that out?! Ianto grimaced at the thought, forced himself to swallow the cherries, and set down his fork.

As the conversation moved on to the merits of Rhys' cottage pie, which was to die for apparently, Jack half-turned towards him. "Lost your appetite, Ianto?"

"I'd been rather looking forward to something else" Ianto muttered, pushing away from the table and reaching for the black bag he had at the ready. Studiously avoiding catching Jack's eye he began dropping discarded pizza boxes and empty plastic bottles into the sack. Bugger recycling, the world was doomed anyway, he thought sourly, what with these jokers standing between mankind and the apocalypse. Not that he was any better, he reminded himself ruefully.

"Well, y'know, if you wanted Chinese you should have said."

Oh what the hell! Stopwatch flirting was far more tasteful, in his opinion, but tonight wasn't the night for subtleties it seemed. And if it worked for Owen… Ianto leaned across Jack, making a show of gathering up some crumpled paper napkins. "I was thinking more along the lines of meat and two veg, sir" he said quietly.

Jack twitched, choking noisily on black cherry syrup, drawing everyone's attention back to him. Trying to regain his composure, he raised a hand to indicate he was okay. "Think it's about time we called it a night, guys" he spluttered.

Result! Ianto felt better already. Much better. Two days, twenty-three minutes and counting… although not for very much longer by the looks of it. Jack was on his feet now, prowling round the conference room, doing his best impression of a sheepdog. Rounding up the team, sending them on their way. The women seemed happy enough to oblige, what with the last of the cheesecake having been consumed, and the stiffness of a long day sat hunched over tedious reports beginning to kick in. Owen, on the other hand, was loitering in the doorway, a sly little smile twitching at his lips.

"Shag time, is it?"

"Way past" Jack laughed. "But some of us still have work to do." With Owen's gaze sliding over to Ianto, Jack covered quickly. "One of us, anyway. Leave that, Ianto. It'll still be there in the morning."

"I have no doubt sir."

Owen frowned, suspicions apparently unassuaged, but moved away. Slowly. The fucker was trying to catch them out! Ianto pursed his lips and made to follow, taking care to brush against Jack as he went. "My car. Back seat. Five minutes" he whispered.

Jack gave a quick nod of agreement.

"And I think I'll be wanting gravy on it."

"What?!" Jack mouthed, his expression priceless.

"My meat and two veg... Goodnight sir" he added more audibly as he hurried after Owen.

Two days, twenty-six minutes since their first time. But just five short minutes 'til their next…