"Doesn't it bother you?"

Ianto set his drink down on the small table and let his eyes follow Mickey's gaze to the dance floor. Jack was dancing with Gwen, whispering something to her as the song ended. She laughed and stepped away and he reached out and pulled Martha into his arms, whispering to her as the music started again. He also took note of the many women—and men watching Jack move around the dance floor, at Jack occasionally smiling or winking at one or another of them as he moved to the music.

"Does what bother me?"

Mickey sighed. This wasn't the first time they'd all gone to a pub after a case, and it wasn't the first time he'd watched Jack flirt outrageously with every good looking person to cross his path. Yet, Ianto always seemed oblivious to the behavior. "That," he said, gesturing toward Jack with one hand. "The dancing, the flirting."

Ianto considered his answer. Jack was on top form tonight, flirting with everyone who caught his eye. It was Jack being Jack, but did it bother him? "No," he answered, reaching for his drink and waiting for the inevitable next question.

"Why?"

It was a fair question really, Ianto thought. Why didn't it bother him? If anyone else he'd ever been involved with had flirted so shamelessly and so often with other people he'd have been angry. However, it really didn't bother him in the least. He knew why it didn't, but he wasn't sure how to explain it to Mickey, or anyone else. 'It's Jack' didn't seem sufficient, yet that was essentially the reason.

Jack flirted it was simply another thing you had to accept when in his life. Just like his seeming immortality and his job at Torchwood, it was part of who he was. Ianto had known that from the very beginning. The more he thought about what made it different than if someone else—Lisa, for example—had behaved the same way, the more he realized that the difference was the reasons for the flirting. So many people flirted and viewed flirting as a means to something else: a relationship or sex. Jack didn't.

Or at least not only for those reasons. He wasn't naive enough to say Jack never flirted for those reasons. They just weren't the ionly/i reasons. He'd seen Jack flirt for many reasons: to get information from a source, to get out of trouble, to distract someone to avoid a potential disaster; he'd seen Jack flirt just to make people smile. Hell, he'd even seen Jack flirt just for the fun of it. And then there were nights like this when he was flirting just to blow off steam, to relieve stress, to pretend they had a normal life. Jack's flirting didn't bother him because he knew that. It rarely had anything to do with a real interest in the other person.

The question was how to explain that to Mickey.

As the music ended, he watched Jack step away from Martha and head back to the table as Martha went over to the bar to order a drink. He stopped on his way back to talk to a couple of women who'd been watching him all night. Ianto watched them giggle as Jack spoke and then made his way back to the table. As he moved closer, Ianto realized he still hadn't answered the question.

"Because…" He said, turning his attention back to Mickey.

"Ianto," Jack said, coming up behind him and bending down to kiss him lightly, then pulling Ianto up from his seat and against his body. "You ready?"

Ianto returned the kiss and nodded. Picking up his coat, he turned back to Mickey as Jack headed toward the door. "He only leaves with me," he finished, and followed Jack out. Maybe not the best answer to Mickey's question, but it was the easiest to give without going into a long explanation of Jack's psyche.