Ianto joined Jack and their guests in the cells. Apparently the immortal was in the middle of a heated discussion with the aliens, the topic of which had both species blushing. The Welshman coughed.
"Am I, err, interrupting anything?" Jack's blush deepened. One of the creatures- he had heard Tosh refer to it as Glib- seemed to find the immortal's reaction funny.
"Your partner was just discussing with us recent developments. It appears that this, UNIT you have been speaking of, have they arrived for us?" Ianto nodded, trying to ignore the innuendo lacing the aliens words.
"Yes, they're readying your transport now. I brought you some coffee to go." Ianto held up the mug, shaking it lightly in the aliens' direction. A tentacle wrapped around the container, deftly removing it from the Welshman's grasp. Three UNIT soldiers entered the cell block, each one with guns at the ready. Ianto and Jack shared an equally as furtive glance as a short woman in tottering heels marched into the room.
"Captain Harkness I presume." She said, a thin smile crossing her features. Jack stood up straighter, his posture rigid and unforgiving.
"You must be lieutenant Ulrich." He said, voice not echoing her charm. Ianto bristled, regretting his choice not to wear a suit. He felt naked, vulnerable without his self-imposed uniform, amongst these types. The blonde woman nodded, her eyes wandering openly, first over the Captain, then over his lover. Ianto could feel the lust and power hunger pouring from the woman, it made him nauseous.
"These are the fully sentient creatures that you require full diplomatic transport for?" The lieutenant inquired, incredulous. Jack bristled.
"Yes. They're names do not translate into any recognizable languages, so we have taken to calling them Glib and Fall." The aliens laughed at this, the gurgling sound startling the soldiers.
"Don't mind that, we've come to associate that with laughter." Ianto said, forcing himself to be pleasant, even charming. The lieutenant flashed him what he assumed was her most attractive smile. He felt the bile rise in his throat.
"They are capable of humor?" The speakers on the translator crackled to life.
"Yes we are capable of humor, and anger, and pain, and love, and kindness. Manners too, though it appears that is something not all humans are taught." Ianto smiled then. The sarcasm brought the cocky lieutenant down a notch, while buoying the Captains flagging spirits.
"And sarcasm, great." She muttered. A wave of her hands brought two guards behind the creatures, guns at the ready. The third faced them menacingly.
"You are now under the custody of her majesty the Queen of England, and by extension the powers of UNIT. Any act of violence or perceived violent intention will result in your immediate restraint and plausible termination." The soldier spun around, heels clicking as he completed his recitation. Ianto rolled his eyes, apparently Jack caught the gesture and smiled at him, a companionable warmth flowing between them. The tottering lieutenant approached the creatures, her speech much slower and more clipped than necessary.
"We have been informed that you are fully sentient creatures seeking diplomatic asylum. There for you are not to be considered prisoners of the crown, but guests." She rolled this last word as though it were some sort of joke. Jack cleared his throat.
"My associate, Mr. Jones, will be escorting your party to the garage." Ianto nodded,
"Don't think you can manage it sir?" Jack smiled slightly, the faintest of twitches at the corner of his mouth.
"The last thing I need is Martha taunting me over how well the Tea-boy shagged me." Ianto frowned, he didn't feel any malice with the comment, but a hint of embarrassment poisoned the moment, a slender finger of cold seeping into the warmth they had been sharing.
"Shall we go then, lieutenant." Ianto said, gesturing forward.
"You lead." She commanded, leering suggestively. Again he cursed himself for not wearing his suit.
He felt the UNIT soldiers ogling him from behind, and he suppressed a shudder. The Welshman loathed unwelcome attention, the likes of which he was receiving now. The archivist tuned it out the best he could manage, focusing on the task at hand. The feelings of pity and pride from Owen and Tosh were minuscule, the anger, guilt, and hatred from Gwen palpable. The only person that he couldn't feel was Jack, who disconcerted him, but it was probably for the best. He had enough to worry about, he didn't need Jack's being embarrassed of him added the mix.