Strictly Straight Ballroom

Author: moonfirefic

Beta: milady_dragon

Rating: PG-13

Characters: Jackie/Pete, Rose/Mickey, Jack,/Ianto, John Hart, Gwen, Rhys, Martha, The Doctor(10th), Rhiannon, Johnny, Tosh/Owen, The Master(Simm), others

Summary: Written for Reel Torchwood. Inspired by the movie Strictly Ballroom. Jack Harkness has been training at Tyler-Smith Dance Studio since he was six years old to win the Pan Atlantic Grand Prix Latin Dance Final. When he starts coming up with new ideas about how he wants to dance, and who with, it will send him on a road of self discovery that will change his life and the world of professional dancesport forever.

A/N: Please note that I am not a professional dancer and this is purely a work of fiction. Any dance moves mentioned are purely based on observation, and moves mentioned in passing in the movie, as I have no actual ballroom dance experience myself. Please forgive any inaccuracies in dance steps as they are only mentioned for the purpose of telling the story, and are not meant to depict actual ballroom movements.

Chapter One

Tyler-Smith Dance Studio

Cardiff, Wales

"Take your time Mrs. Tyler," said Sarah Jane Smith with a comforting smile. "There's no rush. Just tell me what happened in your own words."

Jackie Tyler gave the journalist a nervous smile and set down her teacup. "I have a DVD of the performance, might be best if we start there," she said looking at her for confirmation.

"That's a splendid idea," Sarah Jane praised. "Give me a bit of background on all the players and how it all happened. Well done Mrs. Tyler."

"Please, call me Jackie," she replied as she pressed the button on the remote. The title card South East Wales Dance Festival filled the screen, before fading into a grand dance hall with figures of men in tuxedos and women in chiffon and satin dresses dancing sliding into view.

"That's my Jack there – he and his partner Gwen Cooper in the yellow," she pointed out the handsome couple as they sailed across the screen. "Oh! The pair in purple, that's Tosh and Owen, another couple of the dancers from our studio."

Sarah Jane nodded and jotted down the names. "And do they always compete against one another?" she asked, glancing back to where Jackie and her husband Pete sat on the couch before her.

"Sometimes," Jackie replied glancing to where John 'Doc' Smith, co-owner of Tyler-Smith Dance Studio sat in the armchair to her left. "Jack won most of the trophies in this room," she continued, gesturing to the cases and tables full of trophies, ribbons and awards. "You see, that's the tragedy, my son was a champion."

Sarah Jane glanced back at the screen where the announcer was introducing the next event.

"Jack has always been popular off the dance floor with both the men and the ladies," Jackie hastened to continue. "He'd done some experimental steps and same sex dancing in clubs or during rehearsals in the past, but never in competition. And we never imagined he would do anything like that in front of Harold Saxon."

Pete, Jackie's husband, quiet until that point, growled and muttered 'tosser' under his breath at the mention of Harold Saxon, U.K. Dance Federation President. The room fell silent as the announcer on the DVD introduced Saxon and plugged his latest dance video, featuring only federation approved ballroom steps. Pete glared at the screen as Saxon came into view, smiling and wishing the dancers luck on the main event. Muttering something about filling the soda machine, Pete got up to leave, failing to notice Jackie glaring at his back in frustration as he left.

"So you were fairly confident in Jack and Gwen's chances going into the event?" Sarah Jane prompted, hoping to draw her attention back to the interview.

"Yes of course," Jackie replied, her concern about Pete gone. "I don't think there was a doubt in anyone's mind that Jack and Gwen would be the next U.K. Pan Atlantic Latin American Dance Champions." Sarah Jane smiled encouragingly, hoping she would continue. "And then," Jackie stopped. "And then, came that bloody samba."

They turned to watch the samba in question play out onscreen. Jack and Gwen were moving down the floor in an intricate routine, and obviously doing well. Another couple in white and pink seemed to be the only contender close to their level.

"The couple in white seems rather good," Sarah Jane remarked as they executed a series of dips and spins.

"That's John Hart and Diane Holmes," Jackie replied, unsurprised. "John's always been a wonderful ambassador for ballroom dancing." Music filled the room as the competition continued. "But I think that everyone there really thought it was Jack's turn."

As they watched, John spun Diane around him twice and forced Jack and Gwen to dance around them and into the corner of the dance floor. Jackie paused the DVD looking to Doc for help in explaining the rest.

"It is true," Doc began, taking off his glasses and sitting up in his chair to address Sarah Jane properly. "That Jack and Gwen became what we term as 'boxed in' or blocked." Jackie restarted the DVD and the three of them watched as Jack and Gwen tried without success to get around the other couple. "It was no excuse however for what Jack did."

In the middle of a turn with Gwen, Jack reached out and grabbed onto John's arms and spun him across the floor, turning him out and back in, and gesturing for Gwen to follow. The camera panned up to the astonished faces of the judges in the background, and then back to where Jack and John were dancing around each other, one upping each other with more and more intricate moves like a couple of stags butting their antlers. Jack pulled John into a dead-man's drop, spinning him back up and keeping them moving until Gwen was close enough. Once she was within reach, he spun and leapt away from John and back into her arms to wild applause from the audience.

"Jack's been my student for years," Doc continued, "but never have I ever encouraged him to dance with a same sex partner in competition, or to resort to his own flashy, crowd pleasing steps."

"He forced me to do it," added Gwen, as she came into the lounge and perched on the arm of Doc's chair. "Where the man goes, the lady must follow," she sniffed, her eyes filling with tears as she watched it play out again onscreen. "I had no choice." Jackie stood up to comfort her and Gwen let out a sob and ran from the room in a flood of tears.

"I keep asking myself why," Jackie whispered as she sat back down. "Did I do something wrong?" she was fighting back her own tears now. "Did I fail him as a mother? " Sarah Jane held out a tissue and Doc reached over to pat Jackie's arm in consolation. "In front of Harold Saxon! Oh Doc, how will we ever live it down?"

"But from what I can see the crowd loved it," Sarah Jane observed watching as the crowd cheered every lift and flip that Jack did with both John and Gwen.

"Well to pick what was actually wrong with how they danced, you'd have to be an experienced professional. Like say, myself, or Federation President Harold Saxon," Doc tried to explain. Sarah Jane nodded and flipped back in her notes to her short and somewhat terse phone interview with Saxon the day before. He had told her that you can dance any steps you like, but if you did, you wouldn't win. He also told her that other than beginners' classes where men were scarce, that there was no room for same sex couples in professional dance sport. A real sweetheart of a tyrant, she had written in the margin. After re-reading her notes, she looked up at the distraught face of Jackie Tyler and decided that she needed a moment to compose herself.

"We spoke earlier about the possibility of my interviewing a couple of the students," she reminded Doc, who was trying to calm Jackie down. "I was thinking the beginning class; see what the up and comers think about any potential changes to dance regulations." Doc nodded and Sarah Jane made her way back out of the lounge and into the dance studio. One of the beginning dancers, a young man named Ianto with impossibly thick glasses, a smattering of acne, a three-piece suit, and a warm smile was the only one daring enough to give her a quote.

"I thought the dancing and the new steps were brilliant," he told her, bristling with excitement. "I don't have a partner of my own yet, but I thought that what Jack danced was wonderful. They should have won." Sarah Jane nodded, jotting down his comments.

"And Mr. Harkness' orientation? Do you think it matters who he dances with?" she asked.

"I don't see why," Ianto shrugged. "It's supposed to be about the dancing isn't it? It shouldn't matter who you dance with as long as you dance from the heart." He smiled and pushed his glasses back up from where they had slid down his nose to expose a pair of twinkling blue eyes. Sarah Jane smiled back at him, glad that someone had been willing to speak with her.

"Places everyone!" called Doc, getting ready to start the next class and Sarah Jane turned to see a now composed Jackie walking towards her.

"Thank you for the quote Ianto," Sarah Jane said. The young man nodded and hurried over to join the others.

"Sorry about that," Jackie said, stopping in front of Sarah Jane, still dabbing the corners of her eyes a bit. "It's just been a bit of a shock, and reporters have been ringing us off the hook. You're the first of them we have actually agreed to see, and that was only because my sister up in Ealing mentioned that you weren't some shady tabloid writer, ready to trash our lives for a few pounds." Sarah Jane put her notepad and her recorder back in her bag and started walking towards the door.

"I promise you Mrs. Tyler, I have nothing but an overactive sense of truth up my sleeve," Sarah Jane replied, trying to reassure her. "I understand that several activist groups are pushing you to take a stance on this and make Jack a bit of a figurehead." Jackie flinched and her eyes went wide in terror. "Don't worry Mrs. Tyler, I see this as more of a human interest piece about the world of dance sport," Sarah Jane continued. "From what I have seen, it sounds like a lot more than just the steps and gender of the partners you can dance with need to change. I plan on following several other dancers on their road to the championships. I promise you, I will not drag your son through the mud just to sell a story." Jackie nodded, the worry crease in her forehead abating slightly. "I need to check a few facts and type up some notes. I should have the story finished by Wednesday. Would you like an advanced copy?" Jackie nodded and Sarah Jane gave her another copy of her card. "Call me if you think of anything else you want to add," she said shaking her hand. "I'll be in touch."

Jackie closed the door behind her and let out a sigh before turning around to face the studio once more. Putting a smile on her face she made her way back to the changing room to try and talk Gwen into staying partners with Jack. The U.K. Pan Atlantic Grand Prix Championships were only three weeks away, and she had a lot of work to do.

Tyler-Smith Dance Studio

Three days later …

"One, two, three, four. Partner-up!" called out Doc as the dancers got into lines. Doc took Jackie into his arms and the two of them led the beginner's class in a simple two step.

"They were on the phone for hours last night," Jackie whispered as she gave Doc the latest on Jack and Gwen. "I have a good feeling about today."

"Don't you worry about a thing," Doc replied. "Spinning the girl off!" he called out to the other dancers, who spun their partners out as instructed. As Jackie spun away from Doc she noticed Ianto dancing by himself to the side. His partner and former girlfriend Lisa had quit a few months ago leaving him without a partner.

"Ianto luv, are you out of that apricot scrub?" she asked, taking in the fresh breakout of acne on his chin.

"Nearly Mrs. Tyler," he responded, coming to a stop beside her.

"I'll bring some in tomorrow along with the toner," she said, "It's a special this week and will fix that right up."

"Thanks Mrs. Tyler," he said with a polite smile. Jackie had a side business as a makeup consultant and had made Ianto her pet project for a while now much to his chagrin.

"Grand roulette in!" called out Doc, pulling Jackie back under his arm and in front of him.

"I smoothed it all over," Doc reassured to Jackie. "When Doc Smith talks, Harold Saxon listens." Jackie giggled back at him, sure that all the troubles of the previous weekend were over.

"I've got my happy face on today, Doc. Everything's going to be alright, you'll see."

Meanwhile in the lounge…

"I'm just asking you Gwen, what did you think about the steps?" Jack asked, wanting to know her honest opinion once and for all.

"I don't think!" Gwen exclaimed, tired of going circles around the issue. "I don't give a shit about what we danced. We lost!"

"I don't want us to end up like that drunk, John Hart," Jack retorted. Sure he'd danced with and even slept with the man, but Hart was a ballroom puppet without a single new idea in his over peroxided head.

"John Hart is a ballroom king!" Gwen shot back at him. Before Jack could reply, she turned around and threw open the saloon doors leading into the studio.

"Aaaahhh!" Gwen screamed in frustration, causing everyone to stop dancing and stare. Gwen took a big breath and stomped across the floor.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Tyler. I have tried. God knows, I have tired. But as far as I can see, your son isn't even interested in winning at the Pan Atlantics," She drew a breath and stood up straight with her head held high. "As of this moment, he and I are no longer partners." Gwen began to walk away, and bumped right into Ianto who was busy salting the dance floor. The two of them collided and scuffled about in the salt, with Gwen managing to break off the heel of her shoe and Ianto latching onto the ruffle on the front of her dress, tearing it off as he scrambled to stand.

"Sorry Gwen," he said thrusting the ruffle into her hands and making a hasty exit.

"Toshiko!" Gwen screamed, as she fell again. Tosh quickly dropped Owen's hand and ran to help her friend up. "Oh Toshiko," she sobbed. "This stupid studio's a bloody nightmare."

"Come on," Tosh said helping her limp to the ladies changing room. "Let's get you cleaned up and dry those tears."

"Tango please!" called out Doc, trying to distract the students from the display.

"What now?" asked Doc, pulling her in from a spin, not sure what to do.

"Stay calm, Doc, stay calm," she replied as they tangoed across the floor. She heard the saloon doors reopen. "Here he comes. Pete, Pete! Do something!" she called over to where Pete was sitting in the corner sorting the records and CDs.

"Son," said Pete standing up to address his step-son. "Can I bend your ear for a tick?"

"Not now, Pete," growled Jack.

"Don't you speak to your step-father like that!" Jackie snapped at Jack slapping him in the arm as she leaned back and hung from Doc's hand. "He's trying to talk to you, talk to him Pete."

Jack turned to look at Pete, who blinked and stared back at him with his mouth hanging open. When a full minute went by without him saying anything, Jack shook his head and walked to the men's changing room. He found Owen inside doing chin-ups before his afternoon lesson.

"Hey Harkness – are we going to work on that Bogo Pogo step soon?" Owen asked, dropping down to the floor. "Tosh is keen to add it into the routine and since she's finally warming to the idea of doing a little dancing off the floor, so to speak, I need to get it right." Jack straightened up from his locker and turned to Owen.

"Did you like the way I danced this weekend?" he asked, hoping that at least his long time friend would give him a straight answer.

"What?" Owen asked surprised; Jack never asked his opinion on routines.

"Did you like the way I danced?" Jack repeated the question.

"I don't know Jack," Owen replied. "You didn't win so what's it matter?"

"Well did you like it?" Jack asked again.

"Look Harkness, I don't care what you dance, or who with, as long as you help me with the Bogo Pogo," answered Owen. "I've liked Tosh for ages, and this is the first time she's seen me as more than just another horny doctor. I really want to make a go of this and you promised me you'd help."

"I know, and I'll help," Jack replied, taking off his jacket and throwing it into his locker. "But what I really want to know is if you liked the new steps?"

"I don't know!" Owen said again confused. "Why are you pushing this?"

"Because everyone is afraid to have a damn opinion!" Jack shouted back before slamming his locker and returning to the studio floor.

As he stomped back into the room, Doc caught him by the arm. "We had an agreement Jack!" he reminded him as they clasped hands and joined in the tango.

"Maybe I changed my mind," Jack retorted. "Maybe I am just sick of dancing somebody else's steps all the time. Maybe I want to try dancing with a man so that I can try some more acrobatic steps, and stronger movements."

"The recognized steps aren't wrong Jack," Doc scolded him as they moved across the floor. "The people who passed on those steps know a lot more about dancing then you ever will."

"The audience didn't think so," Jack said with a smirk.

"Oh the audience, bunch of apes the lot of them," Doc replied with disdain. "Forward on the heel, Ianto!" he called out before turning back to Jack. "Like they know anything about dance. All they see is the flash and the show, not the artistry, not the floor craft." Jack frowned. "Arms, Johnny!" Doc called out as Johnny bent his arms oddly yet again. "There was no energy between your feet and the floor, your line was a mess, you could have driven a truck through your left and your right hand, is that what you think is going to win the Pan Atlantics?"

Owen and Tosh, who had left Gwen alone to clean herself up, were dancing nearby watching the exchange with interest.

"Does he really think he's going to win with some crap steps and pretty-boy flash?" Owen asked Tosh. "I mean the gay part doesn't really bug me, but the steps were all over the place." He spun her into a forward arch, before releasing a hand to pull her gently back towards him. "Made us look good though," he added with a smirk.

"Well he did say last week that our routine needed a lot of work," Tosh replied with a shrug as Owen spun her out and back in front of him.

"Bloody hell!" Owen exclaimed. "If he thinks that, then I hope he does compete with his trash steps so that we can win." He drew her back in and clasped her to him, deciding then and there that if he needed help, he would ask Doc for a few pointers. Jack could deal with the fallout of this one himself.

"And what's more," Doc continued, unconscious of how loud his voice had become, "You won't win if you don't have a partner."

Meanwhile Jackie was busy on the other side of the room trying to get Johnny to straighten his arms out and keep her smile in place. "Well Ianto," she said as he passed her with Natalie, another of the beginners in his arms. "You managed to upset Gwennie."

"Sorry Mrs. Tyler," he replied politely. "I'll just go and apologize." He twirled Natalie off to sit in the chair behind them, pausing briefly to straighten his tie before hurrying towards the ladies changing room.

Meanwhile Doc was still chastising Jack. "Go to Gwen and beg forgiveness," he advised him. "You're nothing without her Jack. Remember, it takes two to tango. You've a light inside you Jack; let it shine."

Ianto straightened his cuffs and knocked on the ladies changing room door, calling for Gwen to come out. An instant later, she slammed it open into his face, knocking him into the corner. As Jack's younger sister Rose came over to make sure that Ianto was alright, Gwen strode across the room and gave Tosh a hug, while throwing daggers over her shoulder at Jack. Holding her chin up in defiance, she turned to leave.

Jack ran across the room and slid over a table, stopping her exit. Pete, who had resumed his post at the record player, turned the music up as Jack began chasing her across the room in time to the beat of the tango. Eventually he cornered her behind him and she tossed her purse into Pete's lap and let Jack take her into his arms. The two of them danced at a blistering pace, as Jackie watched on delighted.

"I knew you'd come to your senses," Gwen said with a smug smile as they made a swift turn around the floor. Jack froze and began to spin and flip around her, breaking the routine to add some of the new steps he had created.

"No! I don't want this!" screamed Gwen, stomping her foot in frustration.

"Then what do you want?" Jack demanded.

"I'll tell you what I want," Gwen snarled back at him. "I want John Hart to walk in here right now, and tell me that Diane Homes has broken both her legs, and now he wants to dance with me!"

The bell over the studio door jingled and John Hart himself burst through. Gwen's mouth dropped open in surprise as he strode across the floor and came to a stop in front of her and took her hand in his.

"Diane Holmes has broken both her legs, and I want to dance with you," he said, starting down at her.

"That was unexpected," Rose commented, as she handed Ianto an icepack. Ianto nodded, watching the exchange with interest.

The next song, a waltz, sprang up and John began to twirl Gwen across the floor. Not quite sure what to do, the other dancers followed suit until the music stopped and Doc called out that class was over and it was time to go.

"Chairs, Johnny. Broom, Natalie," directed Jackie, walking into the lounge to catch her breath. How had this happened? Gwen was dancing with John now? What about Jack? Forcing a smile back on her face, Jackie walked back out trying to ignore how Gwen was gushing about John to Tosh and Owen.

"Pete are you ready? Pete?" called out Jackie. But Pete was nowhere to be found. Suddenly it all became too much and Jackie started sobbing in the corner.

"There there," consoled Doc, pulling her into a hug. "Where's that happy face?"

"Let's go," Gwen whispered to the others, suddenly feeling bad for everything that had happened. She pushed them towards the exit, and promised herself that she would come by to check on Mrs. Tyler in the morning.

"Oh Doc, what are we going to do?" Jackie continued sobbing. "He's my only son."

"I know Jacks," said Doc with a smile. "There's still time. Lord of time management me. We'll find him a new partner tomorrow you'll see. Now here's Pete to take you home."

"Come on Jackie," Pete muttered gathering their things.

"Goodnight, don't let the space bugs bite," called Doc as the family left. As the door closed Jack came back down the stairs and walked towards the lounge.

"Jack," he called out, waiting for his protégé to turn around. "You're our best dancer. There's still three weeks. We'll find you a partner, I'm sure of it."

"Sure Doc," Jack answered half heartedly. Seeing that Jack needed some time to himself, Doc gave him a small smile and a nod, and left him alone.

Jack stood in the empty dance studio going over everything that had happened. During the competition he had felt free; for the first time in years, dancing had been fun again. No strict steps and claustrophobic uncreative movements, just him and whatever partner struck his fancy dancing with the beat of the music. Jack took a step towards the wall length mirror and tossed his over shirt off until only the tank underneath remained. He moved into the first position of the samba that he knew so well and immediately dropped his arms again.

"Utter bullshit," he complained aloud, shaking his head. Clearing his mind, he let the music from the competition pound in his head and began to move with it, spinning in place and stretching and flipping across the floor, letting the beat in his head direct his movements, sliding across the floor on his knees and pushing himself back up and around the support pole on the side of the studio, dancing to an inner rhythm and feeling once more that inner beat that wanted to burst out from somewhere deep inside. After making a final spin and leap he came to rest against the mirror and spotted someone behind him.

"That's looking good mate," The man said.

"What are you doing here?" Jack asked, trying to place the tall lanky man in a suit before him.

"Oh. I-I just," he sputtered, running his hands through his hair.

"How long have you been here?" Jack asked, suddenly wondering what he had seen.

"Two years," the man replied with a nervous smile before realizing what Jack had meant. "Oh you mean tonight! Just a moment or two, I was just looking for someone…" he trailed off.

"Everyone's gone home," said Jack crossing his arms, finally placing the man as one of the students in the beginner's class.

"Yeah I know," said the man. "It's just I've got this idea'" he sputtered again. "I want to try to…." Jack stared down at him. "I-I want to dance with you," he finally managed to get out.

"You what?" Jack asked confused.

"I want to dance with you, your way at the Pan Atlantics," he said.

"The Pan Atlantics? With me?" Jack clarified, trying not to laugh.

"Yeah," he replied with a grin.

"You can't dance my way, you don't win," Jack replied, hoping to put him off.

"It's just because you're overdoing it," the man said. Jack stared back at him in disbelief, who did this guy think he was? "If you toned it down a bit, and had the right partner…" he trailed off once more.

Jack laughed. "And you're the right partner are you?"

"I understand how you feel. I make up my own steps too you see," he replied, undaunted.

"Oh you do, do you?" Jack said, trying not to roll his eyes as he reached over to grab his shirt.

"Yep, and neither of us have partners now, so we should give it a go," he summed up, looking at Jack hopefully.

"You've been dancing for what – two years?" Jack asked. At the man's nod, he carried on. "And now you come up to someone who's been dancing since he was six years old, and say you want to dance non-federation, with another man no less, at the Pan Atlantics, with three weeks to train."

"Yes."

"I don't think so," Jack replied walking away.

"Just give me a chance."

"Don't embarrass yourself," Jack threw over his shoulder, still walking away from him.

"Just one hour to prove myself," he countered. "Do you want to dance your own steps or not?"

Jack stopped and spun around. "It's none of your business. You're a just a beginner, you have no right to approach an open rank amateur."

"And an open rank amateur has no right to dance as you did," he countered.

"That's different!" Jack protested.

"How?" he demanded. "You're just like the rest of them. You think you're different, but you're not. Vivir con miedo es como vivir a medias! You're just scared, and afraid that someone else might have more talent than you, you pendejo!" He stopped and stared at Jack a moment, flushing in embarrassment at his outburst before spinning on his heel and walking away. Jack watched him go and suddenly noticed how gracefully the man moved across the floor. He had seen him in the beginner's class before, but had never noticed that natural grace in his movements before now.

"Wait!" Jack called out. Smirking to himself as the other man stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder. "What's your name again?"

"Jones, Ianto Jones," he said, pushing up his glasses and holding out his hand. Jack shook it and pulled Ianto towards him and into first position.

"Alright Jones, don't push me," Jack said. "Rumba." Jack took the first step and Ianto stumbled forward. "Great! You can't even do a basic," Jack grumbled.

"You said one hour," Ianto replied with a smirk as he slipped off his suit jacket. Jack started counting and they began again.

"One, two, three," Jack counted as they staggered through a few more steps. A misguided turn and Jack sighed, pulling him back to first position. "We're telling a story here Ianto. Rumba's the dance of love. Look at me like you're in love," Jack guided.

Ianto looked up through his glasses and Jack stared back, noticing that his eyes were a lovely shade of blue. "That's it. Good."

They kept going and Jack stepped it up into a turn and a lunge, then a drag, hold combo. To his surprise, Ianto kept up with him. Jack kept directing, ignoring the comments that Ianto was making, until finally Ianto stepped away from him and pivoted into a Flamenco step, moving his feet lightning fast and twirling around him. Jack stood back stunned.

"Where did that come from?" he asked in surprise.

"Just something I've been working on at home," Ianto replied pleased that Jack was finally talking to and not at him.

"Show me?" Jack asked. Ianto did it again and Jack tried it twice before getting it right. They danced for another half an hour before Ianto's mobile rang and he answered it, rattling off something in Welsh before closing it.

"I need to head out," he said. "Thank you for the dance Jack." Jack nodded and followed him to the door.

"Can you meet me here tomorrow?" Jack asked as he opened the door for him.

"Should be able to," Ianto shrugged, putting on his jacket.

"I'm still going to do the try-outs," warned Jack, not quite ready to commit to this new partnership just yet.

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Ianto replied with a smirk.

"Tomorrow then," Jack replied with a grin, Ianto nodded and left. Jack watched him go, wondering just what he had gotten himself into.