Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me

Search by :  Username E-mail Region Interest AOL IM ICQ Number Yahoo! ID MSN Username Jabber

Ianto Jones (iantojones) wrote in silverage,

Ianto walked over, leaving the obviously uncomfortable secretary behind. If she didn't like the state of the room, she either needed to take care of it or not work there. It was simple enough. He'd never much believed in just dealing with an issue unless it involved Jack. That was far more complicated.

Then again, Jack didn't drink and work with explosives at the same time. This was the 1960s, and Ianto had seen enough television to know people drank in the office... all the time, so he took the glass from Tony with a nod of his head.

He swirled it around for a moment and then took a sip. Surprisingly smooth, but the man was filthy rich. He could afford the best, and Ianto did like his hard liquor, whiskey and scotch especially.

"I do," he said, glancing down at the giant pile of blueprints and papers on the desk. They were apparently in no particular order.

"I'd probably start by pointing out that a desk isn't a rubbish bin... sir." Occasionally he didn't hold his tongue... but he figured even if he desperately needed this job, sugar-coating who he was wouldn't help either of them. Stark obviously didn't have any such issues.