Jack needs to go back to work. That's what they always did before, Ianto and he, they never really had any time to process the horrors in their lives, they just carried on. He isn't sure he welcomes having too much time to reflect and think about what happened to him or Ianto either. He needs to keep his mind preoccupied, his hands busy, focused on something other than the fact that he can now add 'eaten alive' to the long and ever-growing list of horrific experiences he has suffered through and died from.

He isn't expecting to have quite so warm a welcome upon arriving in the shuttle bay, however, and so he looks up to see Harry eagerly bustling towards him. He can't remember where or when he might have seen the other in the cleaning up of the whole mess. To be honest, he'd been a bit preoccupied at the time. He's willing to bet, though, if Ianto's fears are anything to go by, that Harry probably saw a lot more of him than he did of Harry.

"Hey, kid," he says, greeting with a slightly subdued smile (for Jack, at least), as he tests the waters. "Back to the grind, yeah?" He would have said 'No rest for the wicked', but something tells him that saying wouldn't have gone over nearly as well.