Title: Are they or aren't they?
By: lower-case-me
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG
Note: Written during Season One.
Summary: Jack walks the line between truth and lies. Short ficlet inspired by the Jack/Ianto are they/aren't they discussion.

***

'Staring at something, Owen? I know I'm gorgeous, but we've worked together a while now.' Jack dropped his papers into approximately the right filing cabinet. Across the room, Owen sat with his feet on the desk and tapped a pencil against his front teeth. He stopped and twiddled the pen around his fingers instead.
'I- No.'
'Something wrong?' Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.
'Course not.'
'Out with it, Owen.'
'Fine' Owen said, rolling his eyes. 'Are you having it off with Ianto?'
'Me?' Jack made a camp, limp-wristed hand gesture at his own chest. 'What gave you that idea?'
'You're always touching each other. Your hand on his shoulder. The way he takes empty coffee cups right from your hands instead of waiting til you put them on the table like everyone else. Plus, he never sneaks up on you. If he's behind you, you know about it, which to my mind implies attention on your part.'
'Seriously, you have nothing better to do all day than come up with this?'
'That sounds like avoiding the question to me' snickered Owen.
'Sounds like you're avoiding writing up your reports, to me. This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain bet you might have with Tosh, vis-a-vis my sexual orientation, would it? Speaking of which, what's the pool total now?'

Owen pouted, but didn't answer.
'C'mon. 50 quid? 80?' Jack grinned, enjoying his discomfort. 'Well?'
'185 pounds 60 p.'
'It's kinda sweet you care, but really, you people-' Jack grinned and shook his head.
'And our labels' Owen finished for him. 'Thankyou for delightful little piece of wisdom. Again. Seriously though, Jack.'
'Seriously. I'm surprised you not too busy not-making-eye-contact with Gwen to notice anyone else's gestures.'
'So you admit there is something going on, then.'
'Sure. I like physical contact. No secret there. I also feel the need to connect with Ianto. He's been through hell- no matter what he did- and this way he knows I've still got his back. It's good for both of us. Easier than talking it out.'
'Still not hearing a no, Jack' Owen said smugly.
'Okay, okay. I, Captain Jack Harkness, am not fucking and have never fucked Ianto Jones. Clear enough for you?'
'Yeah, but do you want to?'
'Separate question, Owen. Keep wondering. While you do your reports.'

Owen got up with bad grace and slouched his way out the door. Jack did managed to catch 'still bloody gay, even if he's not at it' from the low level grumble. Silently, Ianto emerged from the row of filing cabinets with a stack of recently-emptied cardboard folders.
'Filing, Jack?' he asked, one eyebrow slightly raised.
'Approximately. In that there are now more files in the cabinet than before.'
'Telling lies to Owen?'
'Never' said Jack, mock-offended. He crossed the distance between them with a single stride and kissed Ianto, deeply and fully. One hand strayed up to Ianto's hair, not messing it up, just playing with it. Stroking, smoothing, comforting and communicating. As they broke away from each other, Ianto let his head rest against Jack's hand for a tiny moment before opening his eyes. Jack waited til then to continue.
'I told him the truth and nothing but the truth. Just not the whole truth. I've never had you. I never said you hadn't had me.'

They kissed again, moving closer together. This time it was Ianto supporting Jack, and then Jack burying his face in Ianto's neck, resting his head on the pinstriped shoulder and speaking softly.
'I never said you wouldn't be having me over the desk in my office in 20 minutes time, either.'

***