"Didn't figure you for a blades type," Ianto said, bringing a couple glasses of whisky into Jack's office.
"Generally not," Jack said, setting the alien blade aside so Ianto could perch on the desk beside him. "I try to keep a little more distance between myself and a lethal target."
"Tough day at the office?" Ianto said, handing Jack a glass.
"Had worse," Jack replied, looking up at Ianto and touching glasses with him.
"True stoic, you are."
"Coming from you," Jack retorted.
Ianto just smirked.
Jack casually set his hand on Ianto's knee as if using the contact to make a point. "Do you happen to know that's my favorite shirt you're wearing?"
"Oh?"
"Red is a really good look for you," Jack grinned.
Ianto's smirk only grew as Jack's hand 'sneaked' a little higher on his leg before stroking back down his inner thigh.
"What was it you said earlier, sir? 'Just us, in this room, for as long as it takes'?"
Jack winked. "I was wondering how long it would be before you suggested that." Jack stood, looming over Ianto with darkened eyes. "I'm afraid I've got to interrogate you, Mr. Jones. And, in case you didn't know… I have a reputation for being a very effective interrogator."
"I know everything, sir. But I'll never talk."
"I'll be the judge of that," Jack growled, ushering Ianto down to the interrogation room, their whiskies left on his desk for afterward.