Ianto shook his head, but slightly as not to dislodge Jack's thumb. He was amused by it. "I have things to focus my energy on. But I do want this place. It'd be amusing to run. I'd get to brew all my own blends." It also meant that Ianto could manage things to his little perfectionist heart's content. The current management didn't enjoy being told that they're doing it wrong. Ianto couldn't blame them.
Still. Talking. They did a lot of that these days and it was a good thing, all the magazines said so. It was still annoying. And difficult. "It's ... Jack, there's nothing. It's nothing. Just dark with something in it. What's there to talk about? When I die, I become nothing. There's not even a sense of Ianto. Just nothing." Remarkably, Ianto's voice stayed fairly calm.