Ianto followed Jack into the living room. He grabbed his glock off the bathroom counter on the way, tucking it into the back of his skintight jeans. No small feat, that. He didn't trust Hart as far as he could throw him.

He smirked a bit at that thought. Well, Hart was short. Ianto might be able to toss him fairly far. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall, watching Hart and Jack reconnect.