Written for prompt #007 of the Big Damn Table, Days. Thanks again to Em, who has beta'd this series of one-shots for me. All five one-shots have been written - it's just getting round to posting them... let me know if you want more! Please review whether you like or dislike this series, as reviews help me understand whether I'm on the right track, or if my stories are crap!

It was now fours days since the incident with the cannibals, and Jack had called Ianto to his office

It was now fours days since the incident with the cannibals, and Jack had called Ianto to his office.

'Ianto?' Jack asked, trying - and failing - to conceal both his irritation and concern. 'You haven't been to see Owen yet.'

'I have,' Ianto's tone was sarcastic, but he didn't care. 'He's just a little shorter than me, looks a little bit like an amphibian and has brown eyes... See, I've seen him, sir!'

'Ianto!' Jack hissed, irritation showing through. 'You know excactly what I mean. For medical attention...'

'I don't need any, sir,' Ianto said. Small white lies never hurt - so to speak - anyone, did they? Not when they were to make loved ones happy.

Jack looked at Ianto, pointedly. His expression let Ianto know precisely how little Jack believed him.

'Well I don't!' Ianto snapped. There was no way Ianto was letting anyone see his scars. His other scars.

'Ianto,' Jack's tone managed to be both exasperated and annoyed. He was angry at himself, too. Angry that Ianto couldn't trust him, and angry that Ianto was hurt. He knew that Ianto would never have been hurt if Jack hadn't let him come to this mission. 'I've seen you limping, clutching your side. I see you rubbing your neck when yhou think no one is looking.'

'What does it matter to you?' The spite in Ianto's voice reminded Jack that he was hated by this man; that Ianto had been all to happy to help him die a slow, painful death. 'Sir.' Ianto spat out, belatedly, as if trying to show that his manners were forced.

'Can't let my staff walk around hurt now, can I?' Jack tried to make his voice drip with sarcasm, as opposed to the hurt he was truly feeling. 'Who'd get me my coffee?'

Ianto's face changed from indifference to hurt almost instantly. 'If that is all, sir.' He walked off, annoyed at Jack's door for not being able to slam properly.

Jack sighed, resting his head in his hands. He'd messed it up. Again.