Disclaimer: I DON'T own Torchwood, or Doctor Who. The Beeb does.. Because, believe me, if I owned the Beeb, there'd be alot more Jack sexiness in Torchwood. -grins-
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The morning started out as any other normal morning would in Torchwood, well, that was if you could actually use 'normal' and 'Torchwood' in the same sentence without 'isn't' shoved between them. Nothing was exactly natural when it involved the supernatural. That play of words brought a soft smirk upon the face of a certain Captain Jack Harkness as he left his office, hands shoved boyishly in the pockets of a normal pair of navy blue pants. A glance at one of the few (if the only) wall clock showed the time to be around 8: 27 A.M., and soon the rest of the team would arrive. Ianto would make the morning brew (Jack blatantly refused to drink anything else in the morning besides his 'industrial strength joe'), he'd attempt to catch Tosh before she was absorbed in the morning's rounds of checking files and updates on the computer and catch her up on what needed to be done, get Owen to get that autopsy for the 23 yr. old Asian male they'd found strangely splayed in the middle of a side-street, internal organs removed, and Gwen to finish up that case he'd left on his desk yesterday. Which, would end up leaving him free to do a business call with the U.S. president, under 'friendly' terms.
He hadn't seen why Torchwood 1 had advised it, when they he could've just as easily had Tosh get into the government mainframe and just take the information they needed instead. Would take a hell of alot less time, and definitely alot less effort. God he hated business calls. He hated business in general, really. It easily paled in comparison to the good old days, when he was mortal, racing around in that crazy blue box of the Doctor's and cracking off jokes with Rose. The stories he could tell, all the times the Doctor did something stupid, he and the blond-haired angel would chastise and tease until the cows came home, only to be baffled in the end that it actually saved them all.
"The good old days..."
Harkness murmured to himself, a sad smile flitting across his face for a moment as he walked into the empty hub. This was quickly replaced with one of curiousity and slight surprise as he head the soft sound of brisk footfall behind him.
"Sir?"
All of the lights were already on, the numerous machines and computers humming diligently as if they were simply awaiting workers to fill their stations. As soon as he'd spoken, a familiar face popped itself from behind a corner, dark eyes blinking in his direction. A smile ghosted his lips as he turned to see Ianto. He couldn't say that he exactly expected his co-worker this early, though it wasn't unusual to have him around before needed be. Sometimes Jack couldn't help but wonder if Ianto lived and slept here, though he of course left 'as well' from that thought.
"Hm?"
Came his nonchalant reply, as he tried to keep a wide grin from breaking at the way Ianto was looking at him. With eyes attentive and face such as well, the Captain half expected him to cock his head or utter a puppy-dog whimper.
He wouldn't look bad with a collar and leash... He thought mischeviously, the facade failing as a smirk grew wide across his face like a Cheshire Cat's as blue eyes did a quick once over his companion. Immediately Ianto looked away, cheeks growing warm for a minute and had his hands been free he would've reached up to re-adjust his tie. Quickly he cleared his throat, in an attempt to cover up his sudden loss of words.
"I-I thought I heard you say something, sir."
He replied quickly, looking at the Torchwood leader with a slight look of hesitation.
"What're you doing here, Ianto?"
Jack inquired, blatantly changing the subject. Stepping farther into the hub, the suit-clad man lifted his arms to show the bright red wooden tray he was carrying, upon it both a large mug of steamy coffee (the scent of it was almost as strong as the taste, quite strong) and a neat manilla folder.
"Coffee, sir. And the report from Toshiko, revised and double-printed, size 12 font, as well as the death certificates set out from last week's case."
The adorable Welsh-accent chirped professionally, receiving a nod of approval from Jack, along with a good-natured smile as he folded his arms across his chest.
"Good ol' Ianto. Always gets his work done. You should get a gold star for that."
He teased playfully, with half a mind to steal that tie that Mr. Jones was trying so hard to reach and, inadvertantly, readjust. Moving forwards, Jack made a motion towards his neck, only to stop short and reach for the mug.
"Is that all, sir?"
His game over, and the sound of the hub-gates opening, Jack nodded and took a swig of his cup. Ianto left as quickly and suddenly as he had come, and the good Captain turned around, giving a glance at the clock. 9:00...