Ianto followed Jack into a comfortable looking space, it looked lived in. Most of the outside wall was glass, opening onto a private balcony. The glass tinted so they could see out but the world couldn't see in.

'Um, you probably want the tour, this is the living room, bathroom is though that door there, my bedroom and the spare room though there and my kitchen is in here.'

The kitchen surprised Ianto, it was large and well laid out, the sort of kitchen that belonged to someone who liked to cook. Copper pots hung from the ceiling, there was a bench along one entire wall and a large fairly new looking oven. The table in a breakfast nook was set for two.

Ianto looked at the dresser against the wall and the table. 'How did you get this in here?'

'I buy a lot of kit set furniture.' He opened the wine. 'There are glasses in the dresser, could you?'

Ianto looked closer at the dresser, the assortment of crockery, tea cups and glasses were all mismatched. 'Do you break things or just buy things a few pieces at a time?' Handing Jack the glasses.

Jack considered that a moment as he poured wine. 'It's a bit of both really. John and I had a somewhat volatile life together at various points in our past. I gave up buying proper sets of things in the finish, now I just buy bits and pieces that catch my eye.' He handed Ianto a glass of wine and turned back to his pasta sauce, watching the younger man carefully. 'It doesn't bother you to hear about that sort of thing does it?'

Ianto shook his head. 'You said it was a long story, although it does all seem a little -.'

'Incestuous?'

'I was going for odd but it fits.'

'Sometimes I wonder about that. The whole self realised man unable to move on with his past still in line of sight.'

'His name's still on the company, I know you said you brought him out.'

'I did, sort of, it's what we tell people and I have no idea why I'm telling you any of this.' He sighed. 'John's many things but he's a lousy gambler.'

'Oh.' Ianto sipped his wine. 'Do you need a hand with anything?'

'You could stir this while I get the pasta on.' Handing the spoon over and stepping aside.

They moved in synchronised silence as Jack put the pasta on and Ianto stirred the sauce.

'I hope you like garlic, I got a bit carried away.' Setting the garlic bread on the table. 'Even if you did promise me a kiss.' He watched Ianto blush.

'Um, garlic's fine.' Ianto still wasn't sure he hadn't struck a bargain with the devil in the moment he'd made that throw away comment. He'd been facetious and yet now he was standing in Jack's kitchen, stirring pasta sauce. And he was looking forward to that kiss. His mind arguing all afternoon between guilt at being attracted to Jack, and doubts about being attracted to his boss. And all the teasing and flirting aside, when Jack had offered him comfort he'd felt a hint of something at the man's touch. A fire had begun burning low in his belly in anticipation of their kiss. Every thought about why this was a bad idea burned up in that softly smouldering heat. He was afraid and he was excited and it had been a long time since he'd felt any sort of emotion.

Jack watched a war of emotions dancing across Ianto's face, the man was usually a blank mask of calm and dry wit. But stirring pasta sauce, participating in the ritual of sharing a meal he wondered if the candles were too much, and if it was reminding Ianto of another time, another man and another kitchen. Perhaps he wasn't the only one with a past still squarely in line of sight. He'd deny it to anyone who asked, but he had read a lot of self help books over the past few years. He knew having John around made the occasional times they'd fall into bed together too easy. And not exactly beneficial emotionally. But knowing he had to eventually cut all ties, and finding the courage to do it were two very different things.

And then Ianto Jones had walked into his life. A slightly sad man with eyes filled with pain, and an accent that rolled over those beautiful Welsh vowels like hot butter melting on corn. The man inspired all manner of ideas as they flirted over paperwork and chased down his missing money. Jack struggled to focus on the man and not the arse hugging jeans that smoothed over the man's body like sunshine on a hot day. He drained his pasta and added it to the plates waiting for him. Ianto spooned sauce over pasta and carried the plates to the table. Handing over the parmesan cheese Jack sat down. He didn't want to get his hopes up, this was just dinner but his cock was reminding him that it had been a while since he'd wanted anyone quite as much as he wanted Ianto.

Jack sipped his wine and relaxed, John was in France or would be soon enough, they'd bring Suzie back. He decided he'd figure out what to do with her when that happened. Freeing him up to all his doubts over his seduction of his office manager. He wondered if it was madness but there was something in the gentle movements, the quietly efficient manner and the Welsh accent that went beyond coffee and well fitted suits. He lost himself in thoughts of Ianto.

Ianto looked down at his shirt before looking back at Jack. 'Have I spilt sauce on myself?'

'What? No.' Jack sighed softly. 'Sorry, I was staring.'

'Yes, you were.' Ianto sighed this time. 'I think I've forgotten how to do this.'

'It's not just me then. So when did you last go on a date?'

Ianto considered that as he toyed with the stem of his wine glass. 'I'm not really sure I have, Dylan and I, we never really dated, not in a traditional sense.'

Jack frowned. 'How did that work?'

'We both moved into the same flat, after a while we sort of just evolved into a couple.'

'How very organic.' He shook his head. 'I'm sorry, I didn't even check if you wanted to talk about, that.'

Ianto shrugged. 'It's part of my history now, like you and John.'

Jack decided to change the subject, he found he wanted Ianto to be thinking about him and the future, not his past. 'So what sort of music do you like?'

'All sorts really, but I love jazz, some opera, the blues and just about anything from the forties.'

Jack considered this a moment. 'I'm not sure what I was expecting but that wasn't it.'

'My gran was a big Vera Lynn fan.'

'You are quite a surprise Ianto Jones.'

'Sometimes I think I was born in the wrong era.'

'I think we all feel out of our own time sometimes. You might be surprised at just how much of that you'll find in my CD collection.'

Ianto grinned, Jack was usually dressed in nineteen forties military period clothes, somehow he wasn't sure he'd be all that surprised. 'I just like music you can actually dance to, maybe I'm old fashioned.'

'We should go out then, there's this little club in town, they play a lot of big band stuff, I mean not right now, maybe on the weekend, if you like.'

'Are you asking me out on another date Jack?'

He smiled at Ianto over the rim of his glass. 'Apparently I am.' Melting as the man smiled back, he found himself releasing a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. 'I'll find out what bands are playing this weekend.'

Ianto nodded again, he'd had very different music tastes to Dylan, he didn't miss the techno or trance the man had liked to play when he was painting. 'I'd like that.' He refilled their glasses, more for something to do with his hands than anything else, checking to make sure they weren't shaking. He felt both excited and scared and oddly alive. Agreeing to a second date when their first one hadn't ended, it was madness. It smacked of either desperation or confidence and he wasn't sure which. He decided they needed another topic. 'Where did you learn to cook?'

'Necessity can be a wonderful motivator. How about you? Do you cook much?'

'My sister and my mam made sure I wasn't going to starve when I got to London, or poison anyone.'

'What will you cook for me?'

Ianto grinned. 'Your willing to risk it then?'

'Depends on what your cooking, I'm not really a fan of leaks.'

'You aren't Welsh.'

Jack laughed. 'You worked that out did you.'

'The American accent was a bit of a clue.'

'I'll make an agent out of you yet.'

'I like the paperwork side of things, there are limits to my abilities to charm cups of tea out of widows.'

'Fair enough, I don't mind keeping you to myself in the office.'

'And how exactly are we going to explain that to John?'

'I was rather hoping we wouldn't have to.'

'And how do you think that's going to work out?'

Jack shook his head. 'It probably wont.' He looked at their plates. 'If you want seconds there's plenty there.'

'No thank you, it was very nice though.'

'I picked some pastries up if your ready for desert?'

'Um, do you want a hand with the washing up first? Unless you have a dishwasher?'

Jack shook his head. 'No point, I only ever cook for myself.' He collected the plates and moved to the sink. 'Wash or dry?'

'I don't know where anything goes, except your mismatched crockery.'

Jack grinned as he put the leftovers in the fridge. 'Fair enough, everything's under the sink.'

Ianto rinsed the plates before filling the sink with hot water, dropping the scrubbing brush.

Jack had to look away as Ianto bent over, the man's arse was perfection. Now was not the time to leap on the man, things between them were not so secure he could risk frightening him away by moving too quickly though the layers of their courtship. Besides, this was new to him too and he wanted to enjoy exploring their relationship. The more he thought about his world in relation to this man, the more he liked the idea of them as a couple. Which concerned him in that he didn't want to be more infatuated with the idea than the reality. He'd had that with John, being more in love with the relationship than the man.

Getting to that realisation had taken a great deal of soul searching, and he hadn't always enjoyed what he'd seen reflected back. So out of a need to follow Ianto's lead he looked away rather than devour the sight of Ianto's jeans clad arse. He'd still looked, he wasn't dead as he took a quick peek before looking away. He dislodged himself from his thoughts as he grabbed a dishcloth and began to dry as Ianto washed. Moving in synchronised silence as the dishes were soon done. 'I have a selection of pastries if your ready for desert. We can take them into the lounge, maybe listen to some music or watch a movie.'

'We've finished the wine then?'

'Yes.'

Ianto nodded. 'Should I get plates?'

'Sure.' He grinned as he pulled a pink box out of his fridge while Ianto selected mismatched plates and followed him into the next room, placing everything on the table.

'So, music or movie?'

Ianto considered his options, a movie meant at least an hour and a half sitting on the sofa either talking and missing the film, or watching it in silence. Or they listen to music, presenting nothing to watch except each other and the lights of Cardiff beyond the windows. He began exploring Jack's shelves for inspiration. 'I'm not sure.'

Jack watched Ianto move around the room, picking DVD's up and putting them down again.

Ianto turned towards him. 'Maybe when I've sorted your filing out I can alphabetise this.'

Jack looked at Ianto, was the man making a joke? He decided the grin meant yes. 'Funny, will you do my ironing too?'

'Not in my job description, Sir.' He smiled as he handed Jack a CD. 'I haven't listened to this in years.'

He let his fingertips brush against Ianto's as he took the CD case from him. His breathing deliberately even as his skin luxuriated in Ianto's touch.

Ianto felt time bend in on itself as Jack slid his fingers over the back of his hand. Sparks of desire singed the butterflies in his belly as warmth pooled, threatening to burst into flames. Desire swamped in doubt, the man was still his boss, tomorrow he would be making the man coffee and calling him Sir. He smiled, it wasn't tomorrow yet. Sighing at the naked need he saw reflected in Jack's eyes. Knowing if the man kissed him now he'd be undone. Until they stopped, then he'd be mortified, probably after having slept with him on their first date. Leaving him almost relieved when the moment passed and Jack pulled away.

Jack bit his lower lip, they'd almost kissed, although if he'd been honest, his intentions probably wouldn't have stopped at a single kiss. He adjusted the volume as music filled the room, thoughts running though his head. He didn't want to rush Ianto or himself, what he wanted was to hold the man in his arms. Where he'd be tempted to never let go, but was it the man or the monogamy he represented driving that need.

Ianto felt music calling to his blood as it slowly built around the edges of the room, sitting around them like mist. Enough to be felt without overwhelming leaving him wondering if he shouldn't have chosen a movie to watch after all. He sat net to Jack on the sofa and began to consider what might happen next as Jack turned towards him.

'Did you grow up in Cardiff?'

Ianto shook his head. 'Westport, I've never lived here before.'

'Westport, London and now Cardiff?'

'Yep. You?'

'I grew up pretty much everywhere, we moved around a lot, my father worked for the embassy although I went to high school in the states.'

'Why Wales?'

'My mother liked it here, when she finally left we came back.'

'Still have your accent then.'

'Some things you never loose.' He reached out and picked Ianto's hand up, holding it in his own.

'Are you going to read my palm?

'If you like.' Jack peered at the lines as he traced them with a fingertip. 'Lets see, there is a tall handsome man with dark hair in your life.'

Ianto grinned. 'I suppose he has blue eyes then.'

'Oh yes, lovely blue eyes, but he's nervous, see here.' Pointing at a line in the centre of Ianto's palm. 'It says here he wants -.'

Ianto leaned forward and planted his lips on Jack's. He knew if he looked back he'd never really know why but in that single moment he'd needed to kiss the man. Fingertips had traced their desire into the palm of his hand and he'd been unwilling to stop. Until reality kicked back in as he pulled away.

Jack wanted to pull the man back into the kiss but he hesitated. It had been unexpected and left him hungry for more. And Ianto was turning a furious shade of red while looking like he was trying to compose himself. Jack reached for his hand again. 'Hey.'

Ianto shook his head. 'I'm sorry, I, I think I should go.'

'We haven't had desert yet.'

Ianto pulled his hand back, shaking his head. 'I need to go.'

Jack tried not to show his exasperation as Ianto withdrew into himself. Fear prickled the edges of his consciousness. 'Ianto, your not going to quit on me are you?'

'What? No. I just need to go.'

Jack wanted to ask why, to stop him leaving, anything to make him stay but he gave a resigned nod instead. 'I will see you tomorrow?'

Ianto nodded, still mortified. 'Of course.' He knew he was running away when he wanted to throw himself at Jack. It felt like a years worth of sexual frustration had finally filled his body and it was too much to process. He felt disloyal to Dylan and he hated the idea of what this must be doing to Jack. It was as if sex had been turned back on and he couldn't articulate what he felt least of all hope to understand what he wanted. He felt split into pieces, he wanted to find a quiet place to try and process everything. Barely registering Jack walking him out. Knowing it was more to avoid the confusion written in those lovely blue eyes. Confusion he'd put there. He was swirling in a sea of guilt, as he tossed about torn between Dylan and Jack.

Leaving Jack standing at his own threshold wanting to stop Ianto walking away, knowing on an introspective level he had to let the man slay his own demons. But that kiss, it had been sweet and gentle and filled with promises he was desperate to explore. He wanted to know if the younger man was running away to a place he could follow, or if he would find the courage to come back. Jack really hoped Ianto would come back to him, or at least met him halfway.