Anythingdrabble Challenge 171 - Active wear

[m_findlow]

Title: Active wear
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Jack, Ianto
Word Count: 500 words
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for Challenge 171 - Coat at anythingdrabble
Summary: Ianto has some burning questions about Jack's favourite accessory.

'I'm heading out!' Jack yelled, even if there was only one person at the hub at that early hour.

Ianto checked his watch. Not even six am. Where one headed before even the greasy spoons were open he had no idea. Then again, his new boss did a lot of that - taking off unexpectedly God alone knew where and for how long.

Ianto acted on instinct, wondering how it was he'd become so entrenched in the routine of Torchwood Three's people so quickly. He dipped through the doorway of Jack's office and plucked the army surplus coat from its hook, holding it out as Jack came whizzing by. 'Don't forget your coat, sir.'

Jack raised an eyebrow at him. 'Cold out?'

'A minimum of minus one and a maximum of two, according to the forecast.'

Jack smiled. 'So, a little on the nippy side, then.'

Ianto took a tentative step forward. 'How long have you had this coat, sir?'

Jack's eyes glittered as he looked at Ianto and considered the question. 'That's very forward of you. It's like asking how old I am.'

'I wouldn't dare to presume,' he responded smoothly. Late thirties, though he'd yet to confirm that from any active personnel file. Jack didn't seem to have one, or if he did, it was being kept under lock and key which only made Ianto even more curious as to why. CIA, or maybe MI5 counter-intelligence.

'Is there a reason why my wardrobe interests you so much? You did have a chance to fix that little hole in it from yesterday, didn't you?'

'Last thing I did before I went home,' Ianto confirmed.

Jack clapped him on the shoulder. 'Thanks, by the way. Hard to find a tailor in this city that's open at midnight. Speaking of,' he said, turning and frowning at Ianto. 'Shouldn't you still be at home asleep? I prefer my employees get more than three hours when possible.'

'I slept fine, sir. But about your coat…'

'I don't know how old, Ianto. I've had it for ages. We go way back. Call it an heirloom.'

Ianto chewed his lip. 'Only, when I was repairing it last night. That tear from a few weeks back? I couldn't find it. As in, I couldn't find the repair job I'd done. The fabric was perfect. I wondered if perhaps you had two coats, or had bought a replacement.'

Jack absently fingered the newly repaired spot and Ianto assumed it was his imagination that it too, showed no signs of his careful needlework. 'Nope. Same old coat. Great job on the hole, though. I can hardly see it now. They just don't make good quality coats like these anymore.'

'Actually,' Ianto began, clearing his throat, 'there's a shop in the old arcade off St Mary's Street that do some lovely cashmere and wool. Very modern styling. I could pick you up a brochure next time I'm there.'

Jack smiled. 'Nah. But thanks. Tell the others not to wait up.'