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Ianto Jones (iantojones) wrote in silverage,

He wasn't going to dignify that question with an answer. It was fairly obvious that Stark either didn't have the time or didn't care what his desk looked like. Jack was the latter; he simply felt his time was better spent on target practise or flirting with the waiter at the cafe across the street.

That was what Ianto was for. If Jack had been a clean, organised person, he wouldn't have really needed a job.

He glanced at the desk with a raised eyebrow and then back at Stark's chest, obviously far more disgusted by the mess than he was by the glowing object in his body. Ianto couldn't tell his potential boss that he'd spent hours holding Jack's bloodied and sometimes mauled body for hours on end while he waited for him to come back to life... or that he'd performed impromptu surgery on more than one alien invested human, so he simply shrugged.

"That won't be a problem. I'm not squeamish, but I can't promise I won't wear gloves. It's more sanitary that way." He wasn't going to hold onto the device bare-handed, especially if it was going back into Stark's body. He didn't want to accidentally kill his boss with bacteria, even if he did wash his hands an obsessive number of times a day.

"I'll even put it in for you if you're having a bad day." His lips curled up into the barest of smiles. More likely he'd offer on a day he was feeling particularly cross.