BANG.

One shot rang out, clear as a droplet of rain on a window pane.

BANG. BANG BANG.

Three more shots rang out in quick succession, the empty shells clicking as they reverberated off the solid stone floor.

Holding his Webley straight ahead for a few more seconds with a firm grip, Captain Jack Harkness glared coldly down the gun at the paper target; he'd delivered four fatal shots, two to the heart, one to the centre of the forehead, and one to the jugular. In the few moments afterwards, wherein his adrenaline levels were still high, the boss of Torchwood lowered his weapon and pressed the button which moved the paper target towards him, so he could remove it and replace it with a fresh new target which was destined to be shot. Just as he'd collected the paper, a small voice originated from the doorway.

"Good shot. Or rather, shots. Plural."

Jack swerved around to be greeted with the comforting sight of Ianto Jones stood smiling at him, holding a very appealing tray of mugs filled with fresh coffee. "Thought you could do with some liquid energy. You always do at this time of day."

"Oh Ianto… You really are my three piece suit clad angel, aren't you?" Jack grinned, grabbing a mug and practically downing it in one.

"I'm nothing less. I would ask how your practice was going, but I can see it's going well." Ianto stated, gesturing to the punctured paper in Jack's hand, the one that wasn't currently occupied with coffee.

"Yeah, I just needed to blow off some steam. Care to join me?" Jack asked suggestively.

"Oh, er, well I'd love to, sir, but I'm a little busy at the mo'." Ianto stammered, blushing slightly at his boss' blatant phrasing.

"No, seriously though. You've never practiced shooting before, right? It may come in handy one day."

"I suppose, but I'm on a coffee errand, I should really give these to the others-"

"Just put the drinks down for a moment, it won't take long. Here, I'll teach ya." Jack took the tray out of his colleague's hands and settled it on the floor, then proceeded to hand Ianto his gun. The Welshman held the weapon limply, being more than a little wary of it.

"No, no, no. Don't be scared of it. Hold it firmly, but not too tightly. You have to show a weapon who's boss, but also treat it with respect, see?" Jack took the gun from Ianto and demonstrated how to grasp it, before handing it back. "Now you try."

Ianto mimicked Jack's stance almost perfectly. "Great!" Jack praised him. "Now have a go at aiming – you hold the Webley at about this height, and point it at any part of the target, to start off with…"

When Ianto couldn't aim properly at first, Jack soon stepped closer to him, placing his hand over Ianto's hand on the gun, and his other hand lightly on Ianto's waist. Not surprisingly, Ianto's aim got even worse after that, due to the obvious distraction. Even though the boss was helping, it was difficult to concentrate when his warm breath was tickling Ianto's neck and the touch of his hands seeped through the fabric of Ianto's clothing like sun rays on a hot day. They were wrapped up in their own little world, which was why they barely noticed when Owen walked in.

"Hey, have you seen- Oh, there you are, Ianto. Coffee's probably cold by now, what are you doing down here?"

"I'm teaching him how to shoot." Jack muttered, reluctant to stray far from Ianto's side.

"Is that what you're calling it now? Well, I'll be off, then. If either of you are even listening to me." Owen murmured as he departed the room, rolling his eyes.

Jack and Ianto remained in the shooting gallery for most of that afternoon, though they didn't make a great deal of progress, practice-wise, as you can imagine.