The moment Ianto walks through the front of Torchwood, he feels like he's home. It's not his Torchwood of course, but Ianto can only function in this enviroment. He was Torchwood One. Then he was Torchwood Three, the backbone of the organization, wholly in charge of most of its most intimate operations.

He wonders what Jack calls this Torchwood. Torchwood Chicago? It sounds weird, even saying that in his head. He's always associated Torchwood with British, with the Crown. It was begun by Queen Victoria, after all. But Torchwood has never been conventional, and neither has Jack.

He doesn't know about his history with Jack. As he ascends the stairs; he's always taken the stairs in lieu of a lift. Lifts make him nervous, after Canary Wharf. He's always terrified of an emergency happening, and being trapped in one. So he takes the stairs.

His stomach clenches, and he feels a wave of nausea overtake him. He knows nothing about this Jack. Back home, he and his Jack were in the middle of...whatever they were. They'd gone on dates. He supposes they were in a relationship, even if it was mostly made up of shagging and late night film watching.

He stands in front of the door, hesitant for a moment, nodding at Mio as she leaves him. Then he stares some more.

He's gotten really good at staring. He should consider a career in it.

He finally steels himself, and knocks.