Title: Tastes

Author: Aeshna

Spoilers: casting spoilers for TW s3, as per DW 4.13 Journey's End

Disclaimer: Not mine, no matter how many DVDs and toys I buy! Everything here belongs to RTD and to Auntie Beeb, who already has my licence fee.

Just something very short and silly that popped into my head after seeing Journey's End for the first time it was meant to be a drabble but it demanded a bit more space! Many thanks to Mimarie and Jwaneeta for looking this over for me. Feedback of any variety is very much appreciated but not compulsory I'll post anyway! I've suffered for my art, now it's your turn...

"Wonderful, just how I like it." Martha sipped at her coffee appreciatively. "I'm impressed you remembered; it's been a while."

Ianto smiled enigmatically. Gwen chuckled. "Oh, I swear he's got the caffeine preferences of half of Cardiff locked up in that head of his. Now, if he could just work out how to boil the kettle and make us all a nice pot of tea..."

"Any fool can dump a teabag in a mug," Ianto informed them haughtily, wiping an invisible speck from the front of the gleaming coffee machine, "but a good cup of coffee is an art form that few can truly master."

"What's this, Starbucks as philosophy?" Martha took another sip and leaned back against the counter. "So, Oh Coffee Guru, how does Jack take his?"

"Jack?" Ianto opened a small door on the side of the machine, smiled absently to himself as he peered within, then closed it again, wiping his hands on a tea towel. "Our illustrious leader prefers his pleasure to be hot, strong and black."

As if on cue, raucous laughter drifted across the Hub. As one, the two women turned to see Jack with one arm slung across Mickey's broad shoulders as he gestured expansively at something in the weapons store, the pair of them clearly enjoying whatever wild tale he was telling this time.

Martha bit her lip and looked helplessly at Gwen.

Gwen looked back at Martha, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She slid a glance back towards Ianto. "So, Jack likes it 'hot, strong and black', you say?"

They fled, giggling, across the gantry before Ianto could find anything more threatening than a tea towel to throw at them.