It's all a matter of trust I suppose.
Living the way we do.
Doing the work that we do.
We have to trust one another.
And I broke that trust.
It was a stupid thing to do. With the benefit of hindsight and in the cold light of day, stripped of emotions, I see that now. But like they say "Love conquers all."
Will I ever be trusted again, I ask myself.
I approach Jacks office in trepidation. We haven't spoken since — since Lisa, not above what needed to be said on an operational basis.
Now everyone has gone home and we are alone in the Hub. His office is dark, the single desk lamp illuminating his workspace. He is ploughing his way through the pile of files and requisition I left for him earlier, a bizarre peace offering.
I place the cup of coffee on his desk and note that the pleasantries and the double-entendres have gone. I guess I'll have to earn them.
He picks up the cup and sniff the liquid inside and takes a tentative sip, all the while avoiding eye contact.
"Worried I've poisoned it Sir?" I ask.
He looks up and meets my eyes. I am aware of how old he is suddenly looking.
"Wouldn't put it past you." He says, evenly.
"And ruin a perfectly good coffee?" I reply.
"Guess not." he replies, with a tight grin. "Ianto go home. It's late."
He turns back to his work with a sigh. I am dismissed.
I retreat to the door, as I turn to shut it I see him cradle his head in his hands in despair.
Perhaps we're not that different after all.