Ianto tried not to admit to himself that he only worked overtime to get alone time with Jack. Honestly, he was just trying to get ahead on the paperwork everyone else insisted on not doing. And then there were the previous archives from the last hundred years that had to be properly organized. Jack must have done all of the filing in years past with how badly they were strung about. It was work that kept him at work of course; it couldn't have been Jack at all.
So, naturally, when the other members of Torchwood headed home for the night, he emerged from the archives. Not to see Jack. Definitely not to see Jack. I had been a long day for both him and his captain. Jack probably needed coffee. He would drop off the coffee and go back downstairs, or home. He wouldn't stay in Jack's office and watch him work.
And of course, like every other day that he told himself this, he felt his resolve crumble as he neared his captain's office. With each closer step he took, he wanted more and more to stay in the office just looking at Jack until morning. Well, maybe doing a bit more that just looking. As much as Ianto thought that he belonged in one, Jack was not a piece in a museum, and there would definitely be some touching involved. That seemed to be the extent of their relationship. They had been sleeping together for little more than a month now, and reluctantly Ianto found himself begin wishing for more. It seemed almost impossible to not fall in love with him. He was like a film star, but one of the films Ianto used to watch with his grandparents when his parents wanted time away from him. Something in black and white, with romance and action. Who knew? Jack might have been in one of those films. Ianto wasn't stupid, and being in the archives all day allowed him to know a few things about the captain that he obviously didn't want the rest to know.
As he got closer to the office he was broken out of his thoughts by a sound he didn't expect. He heard music playing lightly across the Hub. An instrumental that Ianto recognized as some sort of World War II big band. As if to add testament to Jack's overwhelming age. Ianto grinned as he placed the name. It was something his grandparents would dance to as his grandmother tried to cook. "Moonlight Serenade" it was called.
He stopped in the frame of the door, and cleared his throat to announce his arrival. Jack looked up from the small potted coral his was rolling in his hand with a fond expression. He seemed surprised to find anyone else in the world, let alone in his small cramped office. As he realized who it was that stood before him, he let a small smile form on his lips. It wasn't like his usual smiles, big and boisterous and flirty. It wasn't even like the more subdued ones he got when part of the team was doing well. This smile spoke of memories, and Ianto realized it wasn't meant for him. It was an old smile, full of memories and a life that was from long ago, long before any Torchwood agent had heard the name Harkness. Might have even been before the name Harkness was used by the all too dashing captain.
Jack heaved himself off of the chair with a great effort that it shouldn't have taken, and walked over to the archivist, still holding the long-forgotten coffee. His hips swayed side to side as though he was holding back a dance that he was remembering step by step. He took the coffee from his hands, and instead of drinking it, he set it behind him on the desk and turned his attention back on his lover.
"Shall we have a drink?" Jack said, while leaping off to get his champagne . "Bring out the glasses!" He shouted over his shoulder. He leaned back as he tore the wrapper off the top of the bottle, and then pocketed the waste. Ianto almost scolded him for it, but didn't want to interrupt the routine that Jack was so obviously following. He popped the cork out of the bottle followed by an impressed "Whoa!" He poured it into one glass that he then took and then into Ianto's. He took a small sip and suppressed a grin. Suddenly Ianto had come back to himself. He realized how much he needed to get home. No amount of coffee in the world could keep him awake with how many nights in a row he had stayed over at the Hub, and honestly he had lost count.
"Do you have the time?" He asked, his voice deep and husky, like he didn't want to be asking it. Jack's suppressed grin tore across his face, and he turned to his wrist strap to tap in a few numbers. Immediately all the clocks in Jack's office flashed and chimed at once. Ianto even heard his pocket watch in his waistcoat ding loudly. He didn't even know it could do that.
"Okay, that was flash. That was on the flash side." Ianto used in a deadpan voice that was increasingly becoming his trademark. Jack's smile continued to grow beyond possibility, and his eyes grew in surprise. Ianto just happened to continue saying the right things. He didn't really know how they were right, or how he came up with what to say but, judging by Jack's reaction, he was following the script set out for him perfectly.
"When you ask for the time.." Jack paused, eyebrows concentrated. Ianto caught the thought in his eyes. He could tell that Jack was changing the script, if only a little bit, but quickly put himself back on track. "Just how disappointed should I be?" He grabbed Ianto's hand and began kissing the knuckles.
"We're standing in the middle of your office, in the dead of night, with clocks blaring at us, and your coffee's run cold. Do you really think now's a good time to be coming on to me?" Ianto knew the answer would be yes, if only because he was thinking it as well. Jack paused. Ianto knew there was more to the script he was setting out, but Jack seemed to want to change the story again. He seemed reluctant to let go of the young man's hand, but did as he spoke.
"Perhaps not." He said, and turned away from the archivist. As much as Ianto wanted to have a bit of control over himself, he was still disappointed in the end of their game.
"Well, it was just a suggestion!" He choked out, desperate to get him close again. Jack stopped and turned around. He marveled at Ianto still beaming at a joke Ianto wasn't privy to.
"Do you like Glenn Miller?" He asked, in a conversational, matter of fact tone. That made him pause a bit. He stopped to think about it but Jack didn't give him time to answer as he turned up the music and gestured to himself. Obviously he wanted to dance. That was unprecedented. Ianto's stomach flipped as Jack took his hand and put the other arm around him back protectively. This was all just a bit too much for Ianto, and his brain was beginning to feel a bit like mush, addled by Jack's hormones and confidence. They spun in a circle and swayed side to side. Jack took a deep breath as a bit of his guard fell.
" It was 1941." He started. Ianto was taken aback. Apparently he was about to hear about the play they had been acting out all night. He stayed quiet and listened, eager to hear about his past. "Height of the London Blitz. Height of the German bombing campaign. And something else had fallen on London." Ianto half expected a lame line. He expected to hear about him and his girlfriend at the time's intense love crashing to a World War II era England. He didn't however expect to hear what had really fallen. " A fully equipped Chula warship. The last one in existence. Armed to the teeth, and I knew where it was, because I parked it." Jack pulled back to look at the young man's confused face. He had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. He of course couldn't have Jack seeing how lost he was. Alien tech was his strong point. He was the best, outside of Tosh. He decided to distract him with a bit of humor.
"Do you know what I think?" Jack chuckled, knowingly expecting what would be said next. "I think you were talking just there." He held eye contact, hoping the captain would just give up and kiss him already.
"Do you think?" Jack pulled him closer to himself swiftly, extending his neck, but just barely not enough to touch lips to lips. Ianto moved just enough to brush their mouths together, and Jack pulled back to look at him.
All too soon he pulled away. The archivist tried not to be too upset, but then settled for just not showing it. Jack sighed a deep sigh, and relaxed his shoulders in a way Ianto had never seen before, not even after sex.
"Thank you, Ianto." He whispered. "I really needed that." He leaned back to him, putting his head in the crook of his neck. Ianto took his hand, careful to not break the meaningful air in the drafty room. He held it to his chest as he began to rock back and forth again, resuming the dance from before. Jack picked his head up and kissed him soundly before turning off the music with his wrist strap. He gestured down to his bunker, which Ianto knew hardly fit the two of them inside. But, however much Ianto pretended to hate it, he secretly loved sleeping so close in his captain's arms.
Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to fall in love with this perfect and eternal man, but if he could just continue to have nights like this, nights where he helped as much as he loved, it might just be worth it to have his heart broken in the end.