Ianto ignores the Spike (seriously? That's a name?) problem for now. He'd rather find Jack and get answers from him in person, then worry about that. He runs a shaky hand through his hair, looking around to get his bearing. He'd stopped by the first clothing store he found to find himself a pair of black leather gloves, now neatly tucked away in the inner pocket of his suit. Just having them makes him feel a bit safer, like some sort of security blanket to strangle a person with.
"It looks like the center of this place. There are food stalls and some sort of kiosk."