The Hub felt much lonelier than usual. Because he hadn't expected to be alone, obviously. Jack rattled at the coffee machine for a while, coaxing from it a cup of something that for all his effort wouldn't match what Ianto produced in five minutes. Took one mouthful and grimaced. Woeful.

Patience. The hell with patience, Jack thought. I want him here now. I want it to be morning already, for him to be walking through the door. Just to say Hi, to make me a coffee that I can actually drink. And I really am old enough to stop lying to myself. I want more than coffee.

The door alarm sounded. Jack retreated to his office with his woeful caffeine fix. Whoever it is, he thought, as the cog rolled, I will not have them find me moping around the coffee machine. I'm at least a century too old to be having a crush. And I'm just imagining those footsteps are his. How could I recognize anyone just from their footsteps? Except that he could. He had. He did.

"Jack?"

"Ianto?" Jack leaned over the railing, revolting coffee splashing from his cup. "What are you doing here? Didn't we agree on Not?" But he was quite ridiculously pleased.

"I told you I wouldn't be able to sleep if I had that coffee," Ianto said composedly. "But I'll…I'll just stay down here. I've got stuff to catch up on." Blue screen light flashed as Ianto booted up the set of terminals at his desk.

"Speaking of coffee," Jack said, bringing his sad attempt back down the stairs. "I was desperate enough to make my own."

Ianto tasted Jack's brew and shuddered.

"Exactly," Jack agreed. "Would you make me something drinkable? Please?"

"How is it," Ianto asked, effortlessly working his magic on the coffee machine. "That you've lived so long and never worked out how to make a coffee?"

"That machine is possessed," Jack said dismissively. "Or you've sabotaged it."

Ianto handed Jack a steaming mug of 'industrial strength' and returned to his workstation. A staggering amount of files opened on the screens.

Jack hid a sigh. Had he really come back just to work? "What are you working on?" he asked, more to keep the conversation going than out of any real interest.

"Cross referencing tables for the archives," Ianto answered. "Tedious stuff, but easiest done when it's quiet."

"I would love," Jack said, sitting on the edge of Ianto's desk, "To pretend to be interested in cross referencing, but I'm so not."

Ianto smiled. "That's why it's my job, I suppose."

"But," Jack persisted, "I'm kind of interested in you. What are my chances of distracting you from this enthralling project?"

"You won't distract me," Ianto assured him. "It's all copy and paste. Only takes half a brain. What did you want to talk about?"

Talk, Jack thought. He knows damn well that's not what I want. Flirting again. Which did bring to mind something worth discussing. Worth understanding. If he could.

"Given what you said earlier," Jack said slowly. "I can't help wondering why you've been flirting with me since the first time you saw me."

"I needed the job," Ianto muttered. "For Lisa."

Jack placed a hand theatrically over his heart. "Ouch."

Ianto's eyes flickered to his briefly. "Sorry."

"Of course, there was the incident with the stopwatch," Jack continued teasingly.

"That was….You were so sad about Suzie….I only meant to distract you…."

"It worked," Jack said, eyes twinkling. "Then, after Abaddon…with Owen watching too."

"I thought you were dead," Ianto protested, cheeks burning. "Really dead. Never coming back dead."

"But," said Jack, "I did come back."

"Yeah," Ianto agreed. "You did. Then you left again. With the Doctor. You deserted us." There was no mistaking the pain in his voice.

"I agree the timing could have been better. But I'd been waiting for the Doctor for a hundred years, Ianto." Jack said, trying not to sound like he was pleading. But he was.

"Must be a hell of a shag," Ianto muttered under his breath.

"Much as it pains me to admit it," Jack said, "I've got no idea."

"Why did you come back?" Ianto demanded, turning his head and fixing Jack with that determined gaze. "Why didn't you stay with him?"

"I could have," Jack admitted. "He asked me to. But….are you sure you want to hear this? I did already tell you once."

Ianto nodded wordlessly, blue eyes intent.

"I spent a year hanging from chains," Jack began.

"A year?" Ianto interrupted. "It was only a few months." Though, now he thought about it, it had felt like a year at least, at the time.

"Paradox," Jack explained. "Long story. But when the paradox reversed, so did time."

Ianto nodded slowly. "OK, I think. Go on." He relaxed somewhat, turning back to focus on his screen, fingers flicking over the keyboard.

"So I had a lot of time to think," Jack continued, "Hanging from those chains while Martha was saving the world. Martha Jones, that is. I'm gonna get her to Torchwood some time. She's brilliant. Where was I?"

"In chains," Ianto prompted, smiling at his screen. "Not by choice, I take it?"

Jack grinned. "Not that time. Courtesy of Harold Saxon, remember him?" He waited for the nod.

"Nasty," Ianto said thoughtfully. "Is that where the nightmares come from?"

"Some of them," Jack admitted, swallowing. He hadn't realized Ianto knew about the nightmares. "I thought mostly about Torchwood, during that year," he continued. "And you. I'd waited a century for the Doctor, and I left him, for you and for Torchwood. In that order."

Ianto's hands faltered on the keyboard. He swore violently as a screen full of data vanished from the carefully constructed tables.

"Knew you didn't want to hear it," Jack commented smugly.

"Just let me concentrate on this for a minute, would you?"

Jack smirked. Ianto's fingers danced across the keyboard until the tables filled with data again. "Got it," he mumbled. "Nearly lost two days' work," he said accusingly.

"You said I wouldn't distract you," Jack reminded him.

"I should have known better," Ianto sighed. "You aren't going to let me get any work done, are you?"

"Not a chance," Jack assured him.