Ianto couldn't help comparing Jack to Mica, specifically when his niece was in a mood, when he rolled his eyes. He had to bite back a laugh at the mental image of the two of them pouting and whining. "Can never be sure," he teased with a smirk, "the memory is usually the first thing to go when one gets old." The And you are very old, sir went unsaid. He did have some sense of self preservation, thank you very much.
"I'm aware of that, sir," he said, "the comment was mostly facetious." He sat down in a free chair by Jack's desk and sipped his coffee before speaking. "So," he said with an amused smile, "how was your day, dear?" It didn't matter that said day was still in progress, he was just enjoying the brief respite from the chaos that was Torchwood.