Miranda was waiting for her report from this afternoon's artefact retrieval to print with one hand on her hip, the other tapping on the printer's tray impatiently. There had been a small rift spike in the mid-afternoon that her and Torchwood's technician, Joseph Fischer, had gone out to investigate. The two had returned with what amounted to little more than space junk. She stacked the papers neatly, stapling them as she took the autopsy bay stairs two at a time and headed towards Jack's office. The Torchwood leader's signature was required before the report could be filed and the case squared away. Miranda desperately wanted to get out early, which in Torchwood terms meant at the end of what other people considered a normal business day.

Miranda smiled at Gwen and Fish as she moved through the main Hub at a brisk pace. She knocked lightly on the closed office door, awaiting permission to enter. She, and anyone else who worked at Torchwood, knew better than to burst through Jack's closed office door without warning, or any other closed door for that matter. While she normally enjoyed teasing and embarrassing Ianto when she caught him and Jack together, she didn't have time for it today.

Nearly a full minute passed before Jack's voice shouted, "Come in!"

She smirked. When she opened the door, Ianto was smiling at her, looking like the cat that got the cream. His appearance was impeccable as always but she noticed the slight flush to his cheeks as he hurried passed her out the door. Good thing I knocked…

"Hey, Will, what's up?" Jack said brightly.

"I have that report from this afternoon's spike for your signature," she said, laying the papers in front of him, "and I was wondering if it would be all right if I took the rest of the evening?"

Jack looked up from her report with concern. "Anything I need to know about?"

She shook her head, and absentmindedly checked her fob watch. "Nope, just have something I need to do."

The immortal woman's impatient gesture and overly innocent tone weren't lost on Jack. He'd known her too long. He gave her a small smile and then proceeded to read her report… very slowly. Over the top of the paper, he could see her index finger tapping at her hip.

"Jack, sometime today, please?" she said, exasperated.

"Just reading what I'm signing. They say you should do that, you know…" he said with a small smirk. "There may be a typo somewhere…"

She stood for nearly five minutes as he read the first page. She was losing this particular battle of wills. "I have a date, Jack."

The broad grin that spread across Jack's face made Miranda groan inwardly.

"A date? Really?" he said eagerly.

"Jack? The report?" she reminded him.

"With who?" he asked, not even glancing at the papers in front of him.

"With whom," she said flatly. Miranda could see there was no way out of the Hub without going through Jack. She huffed out a frustrated sigh and, hoping that it would be enough to satisfy Jack's curiosity, said, "Her name is Nora Ashline and I'd like to pick her up on time." If you give a mouse a cookie…

Jack put down the report and picked up his pen, idly fiddling with the end. "How'd you meet her?"

…he's going to ask for a glass of milk. "Bute Park. That day Ifan and I went out for a jog. She was walking her dog. She's doing her doctorate in mathematics at Cardiff University," she said. When you give him the milk…

"And where are you two going tonight?" he asked, sweetly, flipping the report to the last page, not bothering to read it.

…he'll probably ask for a straw. "The Thai House," she said, dryly. She wanted to shoot him… twice. "The report, Jack."

"Oh right," he said, signing the report with a flourish and an evil grin. "You have a good time. I won't wait up."

With an eye roll worthy of Ianto, she snatched the report from him and practically fled his office. She sped across the main Hub and down the east staircase to the first archive room that was Ianto Jones's private office. The young Welshman was bent over several boxes of old files, sorting through them.

She had to give him a great deal of credit. Miranda had been in charge of the archives when she'd worked for Torchwood back in the 50's and the 70's and they were so disastrous that she hadn't even attempted to organise them, merely filing things as best she could. The young Welshman had instituted an index code and cross referencing system that been nothing short of miraculous. Under his careful diligence, the archives were becoming more and more manoeuverable.

She tapped lightly on the open door and said, "I have the report from this afternoon, Ifan. It's ready to be filed."

"You can just leave it there," he said, pointing at his desk chair. "That was fast."

"Yes, well… I'm off for the day. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" she said, cheerfully.

"Tomorrow?" he asked, looking up from his work, confused.

"Yes, tomorrow."

"I thought we were watching Angels and Demons tonight."

Miranda cursed her stupidity. Tonight was their movie night. "Shit, Ifan. I'm sorry. I can't tonight. Can I take a rain check?"

"You finally arranged a date with that woman from the park didn't you?" he said with a smirk.

She felt herself blush. "I'm sorry, Ifan… really-"

"Have a good time, Mandy," he said smiling and turning back to his work. "I won't wait up."