Ianto's middle name was not suave (it was Dafydd), but he had at least tried to maintain some amount of decorum. That wasn't to say he had done an especially good job of it. But he could hardly be blamed. If the girl hadn't been a good friend to him, he might have given her a good talking to about sending Jack away for so long. It had been nearly unbearable.
"Just showing the proper respect and deference to my captain, sir," he assured Jack with a small smile. "And I would remind you not to insult my cast aspersions at my coffee. Has your coffee ever been anything other than what you wanted?" He raised an eyebrow and gave Jack a serious look. But the stern expression belied his mood, and he'd chosen his words carefully, knowing Jack's fondness for his vowels.
He was mildly disappointed that he didn't get the chance to hang up Jack's coat, missing the ritual, but it hardly mattered. The feel of the wool in his hands had been familiar and soothing and Jack's presence and proximity more than made up for the minor disappointment. And in any case, it was a silly thing to be bothered by.
"I hate to let it go to waste." But it was just a token protest. He didn't want to break away from Jack any more than his lover did. He looked concerned for a moment. "Please tell me you didn't shoot anyone, Jack," he said, hoping that wasn't the case." He shook his head with a smile. "Well, Jack," he said, "as long as we're being frank, I really did miss you terribly...and...I can certainly empathise when it comes to...withdrawal." He gave him another stern look. "And if you ever leave for that long again...I may just have to hunt you down and drag you back."