"Jack's RAF cap still hung from a makeshift wall hook, its gold oak leaf motif faintly catching the lamp's light. Ianto had once made the mistake of asking if the hat was fancy dress, and Jack had teased him for a whole week about men in uniform. He'd eventually let Ianto try it on (further gentle mockery), but explained with what sounded like considerable pride that he'd had it custom-made by Tranter the Hatter in Jermyn Street, St James. It had been no more than a moment's Googling for Ianto to discover that this was more teasing – Tranter's had never reopened after a V1 had razed the business to the ground in 1944."

~Peter Anghelides "Another Life."

I.

It some ways, it started with a hat.

Although, if he were honest, it started long before that, from the moment he met Jack Harkness in a dark park, fighting off Weevils and dressed as a rent boy. But he'd been playing a part then, and he'd been able to ignore it, first due to his desperation, and later, because of anxious fear. He'd been focused on helping Lisa and nothing else, not the sudden awakening of desire and attraction to the man beneath him, especially not one he'd been trying to con into giving him a job. In fact, he'd told himself it was only because he was still in shock that he'd felt anything at all toward the charismatic leader of Torchwood Three when they had caught the pteranodon that had landed him a job. He'd just survived the downfall of Torchwood One, after all, and his girlfriend was slowly dying in the stranglehold of the metal monsters who had slaughtered over seven hundred of his coworkers.

Definitely shock.

And then he'd been consumed with getting Lisa into the Hub, with setting up her life support and covering his tracks, all while trying to perform his own tedious duties with a clear case of PTSD that he refused to acknowledge. Over his first month in Cardiff, he succeeded at it all so well that he started to settle into a routine. He grew comfortable with it, and even liked it. Oh, he was vaguely aware that he was sublimating, grossly overworking to compensate for the excruciating emotional torment he buried and refused to feel—fear, anger, loss, confusion, resentment—but he stuck to his schedule and worked it all away.

Until the day he started to reorganize some files in Jack's office, and he found the hat.

It was a grey wool cap, which he recognized it as an RAF officer's hat. He found it in the back of a filing cabinet, carefully boxed but apparently forgotten from the haphazard manner it had been wedged into the cabinet. When he opened the box, he was struck immediately by the outdated design and immaculate condition of the hat. He knew it was old because his grandfather had had one. Staring at the worn material as his hands stroked lightly over the golden eagle, he was tempted to try it on, but fought the impulse, setting it aside so that he could ask Jack about it later. He assumed it was from some former head of Torchwood Three and half wondered if Jack might let him have it, especially if he threw in some flirting with the request.

Any thoughts of claiming it evaporated the moment Jack walked in and saw it sitting on his desk. His face lit up and he practically skipped over to the hat. "You found it!" he exclaimed. Picking it up with reverence, he ran his fingers over the brim as if becoming familiar with it after a long absence.

"Yes, sir," Ianto replied, hiding his disappointment. It wasn't that difficult because Jack was obviously so happy about the hat, and it pleased Ianto to have found something the captain had missed. "I found it in the back of a filing cabinet. Bottom drawer, under 'old military headwear'."

Jacks lips quirked. "Of course it was. You know, I've looked for this a dozen times and thought it was lost for good."

"Is it yours then, sir?" Ianto asked. He was always curious about such things, but seeing Jack so glad to have it back made him exceptionally curious. It must have had personal meaning to the captain. "Family heirloom?"

"Not really, no," Jack replied.

"I assumed it belonged to a former Torchwood leader, perhaps from the forties or fifties."

Jack finally glanced up and grinned. He placed it on his head at a crooked angle. Ianto raised an eyebrow, and Jack straightened it, standing tall as if at attention. "Nope, all mine," he offered.

"You served?" Ianto asked in surprise. He regretted his tone of voice immediately. Why should he be surprised? Jack did have an air of the military about him, even if it was an irreverent most of the time, especially when it came to authority other than his own.

"I did," Jack replied. He took off the hat and studied it once more. He smiled at Ianto, not a big blinding smile, but the softer, more genuine one that Ianto found he preferred. "Thank you for finding it. I thought I'd lost it years ago."

"You're welcome," Ianto replied. He hesitated, but decided to take a small risk. Jack rarely offered personal information to the team—that had been obvious from the start—but Ianto found himself hoping perhaps Jack would share something with him in exchange for finding the hat. "It seems a bit...vintage for your service, if I may say so, sir."

"You mean, I look too good to have worn a hat this old?" Jack teased. Ianto refused to blush.

"It is at least sixty years old, if I'm not mistaken," he replied.

"Still mine," Jack replied, deftly avoiding the question. Sometimes Ianto hated it when Jack did that—avoided, deflected, or completely ignored the team's questions at least six times a day. Ianto knew he was skirting the edge of personal and private, but what would it hurt Jack to answer a question about himself for once? To share a bit of his military history? Ianto found himself wanting to know.

Then again, he was keeping his own secrets, and so he didn't push. Just poked and prodded a bit when he could.

"Is it fancy dress, then?" he asked. Jack looked up and grinned.

"Why, got a thing for men in fancy dress?" he asked. He placed it on his head again and stepped closer to Ianto. "Because I could always pull out the rest of my uniform."

"Is it filed under H for harassment, perhaps?" Ianto offered. Jack laughed.

"S for sexy soldier," Jack replied. "And it's not harassment when you're clearly interested, Ianto."

"My grandfather served as a logistics officer." Ianto tried to keep his voice as dry as he possibly could. "My interest is purely academic."

"Of course," Jack murmured, though he was clearly unconvinced.

"It's a fine hat, sir. I'm glad that it made its way back to its rightful owner."

"So am I," said Jack. "And I'd be happy to thank you more thoroughly."

"I'll give myself a Christmas bonus next time I work on the budget."

"Or I could wear it out to dinner and you could stare at me the entire time," Jack offered with small leer, the one the rest of the team ignored. Sometimes Ianto wondered if it weren't half serious.

"Staring at an officer in uniform would be impolite and disrespectful." He held back a smile. He enjoyed these bursts of banter with Jack, but didn't want the other man to know. It was part of the game, that Ianto stay dry and uninterested, and sometimes it was harder than he'd admit. Jack could be both charming and clever, and their conversations were usually a welcome diversion from the black thoughts that otherwise clouded Ianto's mind.

"I don't mind," said Jack.

"I have manners, sir," Ianto replied. "And your suggestion would require going out to dinner together."

"You do eat, don't you?" asked Jack, eyes sparkling.

"Only when I'm hungry, sir." Jack pretended to be wounded, hands clutched over his chest. It was so lighthearted and comical that Ianto allowed himself to smile, earning a broad grin from Jack in return.

"Maybe I'll let you take the hat to dinner then," Jack teased. Ianto considered it, then shook his head.

"Too strange even for Torchwood. Speaking of which, I should probably get back to that thing called work. Who know what else I'll find around here if I dig through enough filing cabinets."

A funny look crossed Jack's face, one that Ianto filed in the 'More strange things about my boss' folder in his head. As he turned to leave, Jack called out to him. "Let me know if you find anything interesting!" He paused, his voice sounding more serious. "Especially if it's of a more sensitive nature."

Ianto turned and nodded. "Of course, sir. And the hat? Was that sensitive?"

Jack smiled, and it seemed to Ianto that it was a weary, almost sad smile now. "Not really. Just personal."

"I'll be discreet if I find any more sixty-year-old uniforms lying around."

"Don't keep 'em for yourself!" Jack called as he left. "I'm onto you, Ianto Jones!"

Ianto shook his head and smiled to himself as he left the office.

Author's Note:

For those of you on Tumblr, you may remember this quotation from 'Another Life' floating around about Jack's RAF cap. I was immediately inspired to write this first part, but then stalled out on the rest. Inspiration has returned, with many thanks to Avaantares for much of it! Enjoy!