Almost Perfect

IANTO IS EXPLAINING HOW COFFEE IS LIKE LIFE

They didn’t talk on the way back to the Hub, though Jack was swearing at each and every traffic light. They parked, and Jack strode ahead, his coat billowing in the rain.

Ianto followed behind, limping slightly and cursing his choice of shoes – strange little heels that scooped in the rain and soaked his toes and the skirt just felt wrong, and the pants had shifted, attacking his bum like cheesewire and… Oh, never mind.

They walked down the fire escape without talking, and Jack stomped into Torchwood. He marched up to his map of the energy cloud, and groaned. Then he threw his coat down and slumped across a sofa.

Ianto hovered, felt ridiculous, and pottered through into his area, where he started to bang about. ‘The secret is not to burn the beans. Well, scald, really. Coffee scalds at 98 degrees. A lot of baristas insist on 100 degrees when they make their coffee – lots of steam and effect, but you ruin the flavour. That’s why it tastes like it’s made from old batteries – and that’s why you drown it in milk and ginger and cream and foam and chocolate sprinkles – there’s something wrong with the fundamental ingredient, and rather than admit it, you press on, you dress it up, you disguise it. You don’t talk about the problem, you wrap it up in sugar and glitter. Isn’t that right?’

He handed Jack a cup, who took it automatically. Didn’t say anything, not even thanks.

Ianto sat down on the sofa next to him, legs not quite in the right order, sipping carefully at his own cup and waiting.

He waited for a full two minutes before Jack looked him in the eye. And then Jack smiled, and cuffed him gently on the ear. ‘Oh, Ianto Jones,’ he said, and stopped.

‘What’s wrong? Are we going to talk about it?’

Jack sipped the coffee.

‘Oh, Ianto. Owen and Gwen and Suzie and Tosh and you – you all spend so much time telling me that the world isn’t simple, that not all aliens are evil, that it’s worth working out why people are here – that I shouldn’t be the ruthless dark one. And sometimes you’re right. And sometimes you’re wrong. All this is my fault. All this is because I made an agreement. An arrangement.’

He sipped the coffee again and gave Ianto a look that made him feel very frightened.