By Day 5, Jack was on the verge of a breakdown. The team had survived the leather jacket, the cargo shorts, and the neon tracksuit, but the suspense was killing them. Every time Ianto walked through the Hub doors, it felt like some twisted game show—What Will He Wear Today?

Jack wasn't laughing anymore.

As soon as Ianto strolled in, today in what could only be described as an "artsy hipster" ensemble—tight, cuffed jeans, a beanie, and a shirt emblazoned with the words Alien Is the New Black—Jack knew something was very, very wrong.

He watched Ianto cross the Hub with his usual calm confidence, but this time, Jack couldn't shake the growing suspicion gnawing at the back of his mind. Something about this whole thing didn't feel right. Ianto was too… composed, too deliberate. And the clothes were just getting weirder.

"Ianto," Jack called from across the room, his voice unnervingly serious.

Ianto looked up, brow arched, as if nothing about his ensemble was at all unusual. "Yes, sir?"

Jack nodded toward his office. "We need to talk. Now."

Owen and Gwen exchanged wary glances. Tosh kept her eyes glued to her screen, clearly pretending she hadn't seen anything. The air was thick with anticipation. Ianto gave a casual nod and followed Jack into the office.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Jack wasted no time. "Are you under alien control?"

Ianto blinked. "Pardon?"

Jack crossed his arms, his tone deadly serious. "I've seen enough alien tech to know when something's off. And you—" he gestured wildly at Ianto, "—this is off. You haven't worn a suit in five days, Ianto. FIVE. You're the man who once apologized for a wrinkle in his tie. You don't just wake up one day and decide to start wearing… whatever this is." He pointed accusingly at the beanie.

Ianto stared at him for a long moment, lips twitching slightly. "So, let me get this straight—you think I'm being controlled by some kind of fashion-focused alien?"

Jack didn't back down. "Stranger things have happened."

Ianto smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Jack, I assure you, I am not under any alien influence."

Jack wasn't convinced. He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Ianto as if trying to detect the faintest flicker of alien mind control. "Then why the sudden change? You've always been so… put together. Precise. There has to be a reason."

Ianto leaned against the desk, crossing his arms casually. "Maybe I'm just… experimenting. Trying something new."

Jack shook his head. "No, no, there's more to it. You're up to something, Ianto Jones. And I'm going to figure out what."

Ianto's smirk widened. "Maybe you're overthinking it."

"I don't overthink," Jack shot back, though he immediately realized how ridiculous that sounded.

Ianto chuckled softly, straightening up. "Jack, I'm not an alien spy, and I'm not being controlled. I just wanted to see how everyone would react if I broke out of the mold a bit."

"Mission accomplished," Jack muttered. "But you're not fooling me. You don't go from suits to… this overnight."

Ianto's gaze softened just a fraction, and he sighed. "Maybe I just wanted to see how you'd react. Maybe I got tired of always being the predictable one."

Jack blinked, taken aback. "Predictable? You?"

Ianto shrugged. "You lot think you know me so well. Thought I'd shake things up a bit, remind you that I'm not just 'the suit guy.'"

Jack paused, staring at him, the pieces finally starting to come together. "So… this was all just a way to mess with us?"

Ianto's grin turned wicked. "And it's been rather fun, hasn't it?"

Jack let out a long, exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're unbelievable."

Ianto stood up straight, brushing off invisible dust from his shirt. "Well, I've had my fun. Maybe I'll wear a suit tomorrow. Maybe not."

Jack threw up his hands in defeat. "I swear, if you show up in a clown costume tomorrow, I'm locking you in the cells."

"Noted," Ianto replied with a smirk, heading for the door.

Just as Ianto was about to leave, Jack called after him. "But seriously… no aliens, right?"

Ianto paused, looked over his shoulder, and with a grin that could melt steel, said, "You'll just have to trust me on that one, Jack."

Jack groaned as the door shut behind him.