"It's possible I may be biased," he quips. "But don't tell the other regulars. Wouldn't want to cause a riot."

With elegant and practiced precision, Ianto sets the closest machine to brewing. The way he touches it is almost affectionate, like it's a conscious being that must be coaxed and gentled into cooperating with such ease. Ianto Jones, coffee machine whisperer. Ask not his ways.

In little time at all, the coffee is done, perfectly brewed and finely tailored to be just as Jack likes it. Ianto presents it with a smile. "Your coffee, sir."