"So Ianto. Is it true what they say about the Welsh?" Teased Jack, fiddling with his napkin. Ianto frowned.
"What? That we can sing?" Jack chuckled.
"No…" Ianto kept on frowning into his spaghetti.
"If you're thinking big cocks are a Welsh stereotype, sir, I'm afraid you're getting confused." Jack chuckled darkly.
"No, I meant something else." Ianto looked up at him and cocked his head to the side.
"Sir?" He questioned.
"Never heard the joke about the Welsh man with the big wellies?"
"No… Oh." Ianto looked up, skepitical at Jack's humour. "Sir, that's not very funny." Jack grinned his Harkness grin.
"I was merely wondering, Ianto. Who else do I ask?" Ianto shrugged, looking down again, determined not to be won over by that pearly smile.
"I don't know, sir. Gwen, maybe?" Jack smirked.
"Aw, come on Ianto. Is it true Welsh men screw sheep?" Ianto glared up at him. "Alright, I'll stop. Though, can I ask one more question?"
"I suppose so, sir." Ianto sighed. Jack leaned over the table and smiled slowly.
"Can I be you're little lamb for tonight, Ianto Jones?"