Author's Note: Captain Jack Harkness, the sexy Ianto Jones, and all other characters belong to Mr. Russel T. Davies. If they belonged to me, there would be a lot more shagging and a lot less...well, you know what happened. Enjoy!

"So, Ianto, where are these amazing cupcakes that Jack's been going on about for-let's see-3 weeks now?" Owen's sarcasm was obvious, but Ianto could tell that he really wanted to try the baked goods.

"I believe the phrase I used was 'almost as good as Ianto' when I described them," Jack grinned at the Welshman as he walked by, then returned his focus to Owen, who raised an eyebrow.

"I know what you said-we heard it enough. No matter how much you want me, I don't swing that way, mate. I'd rather not sound like a poof while discussing cupcakes. So I'm not comparing them to Teaboy over there." The cynical man smirked, and Jack leered. The two were entering their usual routine.

"I don't think I would have to be too persuasive to get you into my bed, Harper," Jack began, but a cough from Ianto cut him off.

Jack pouted- baiting Owen was so much fun!- but turned away from the doctor. "No fair! He started it!"

Owen looked between the lovers, taking a moment before coming to his conclusion. "You're whipped, mate!" He started to laugh, and doubled over at the shocked, indignant look on Jack's face. The older man spluttered, and was about to reply, when Ianto effectively stopped the conversation, arriving in the autopsy bay with coffee and a satisfied smirk on his face.

"I can honestly say that Jack has no qualms when it comes to whips. I thought we deleted the CCTV footage from last week?" The Welshman couldn't resist looking up to see the shocked expression on the young doctor's face. It soon turned into a mask of disgust.

"Listen you two. No matter how much I like sex, I'd rather not hear about other people's bedroom antics-"

Owen was cut off by the loud noise and bright flash of light that accompanied the arrival of Tosh and Gwen.

"Did Owen say sex? Did he catch you two in the autopsy bay again?" Gwen giggled at the thought.

Owen spluttered. "The autopsy bay? You've done it...I work...Do you know how unsanitary that is?"

Ianto rolled his eyes, trying to appear nonchalant even while a blush was creeping up his neck. "Of course I do, Owen. I'm the one who cleans this place, remember?"

Tosh chuckled as she approached the group, taking her coffee from Ianto. "Shall I get the retcon, Owen?" she asked sympathetically as Gwen sauntered over, tossing her coat and bag onto her desk as she passed it.

"I may have to take you up on that, Tosh," Owen grimaced before turning to his other female colleague. "If it isn't the birthday girl! Another year full of mistakes to put behind you. Here's to many more to come."

"Thanks, Owen," Gwen rolled her eyes, but affectionately punched her cynical friend in the arm. She knew he meant well, despite being a twat.

The other members of the team wished Gwen a happy birthday, the phrase "birthday suit" being used by Jack, though it was the recipient's fiery, vulgar response in Welsh that chastised him rather than Ianto's pointed look. Tosh looked over all of the normal rift-monitoring programs and noted that the day looked to be rather uneventful. Everyone settled around the sofa, and Ianto brought out the traditional birthday beers, though Jack emphasised that each of them were only allowed one. They were still on call, after all.

"Oi, Teaboy! You never answered me about those cupcakes! I'm getting hungry."

"I honestly question how you survive on your own sometimes, Owen," Ianto deadpanned. Though rolling his eyes, he promptly rose and headed to the tourist office, returning with a plastic container of pastries, which were obviously from a shop.

The girls shrugged and started eating, but Owen was like a dog with a bone, not leaving the matter be.

"What happened to the homemade wonders we were meant to sample? Did Mr. Organization forget something?"

Ianto glared at the snippy man, but his face and ears flushed crimson. "I was...busy last night." The memory of Jack's tongue evoking tantalizing feelings rushed to the front of his mind. There was still a bit of cake batter in his ear. How had he missed it in the shower? His blush deepened as he remembered that his attention hadn't been on getting clean that morning. Wet skin against skin, hot water and equally warm flesh...

"Earth to Ianto! I asked what the hell could keep you busy for that long? Were you cleaning instead of cooking? Filing instead of frosting?" The Welshman cleared his throat and returned his attention to Owen. He fumbled for a response.

But then Jack cut in, and Ianto knew he was doomed. "Actually, he was moaning instead of mixing. Apparently I'm so distracting that even Father Time over here can't tell when it's been a half hour. Let me tell you, the smell of burning cupcakes really ruins the mood."

Ianto put his face in his hands and decided that eye-contact with his coworkers wasn't necessary in his position. Meanwhile, Tosh and Gwen were giggling like schoolgirls, Owen was spluttering, and Jack, the bastard, was smirking and looking quite pleased with himself.

After a much too long pause, Gwen coughed and, blushing, said "I'm sure they would've been lovely, Ianto. It's the thought that counts. Thank you."

Tosh seemed ready to add her comments, but one look at Owen's expression sent her into another fit of giggles. Meanwhile, the obviously scarred man kept opening and closing his mouth, looking quite like a fish during his uncharacteristic speechlessness. Finally, he stood up and walked away. He was almost to the door when Tosh had enough air to ask him where he was going.

"I'm off to get pissed. Then I'm taking retcon. I'm not taking any chances that I'll remember this conversation."

Author's Note Part II: Any reviewers will receive gifts from the entire team for their next birthday. One of which may be a distraction. ;)