Ianto isn't certain whether he's really surprised by the other man's quarters or not. On one hand, they're... Spartan at best. Neat and tidy to the extent that they might as well have been Jim's quarters in some sort of barracks, lacking any sort of personal touch other than the ceiling fan and the food in the refrigerator. But Jim had said that he was military, and it. Makes sense, in a way. And reminds him of Jack in a way that almost physically hurts to think about.

Throwing his cloak over the back of the kitchen chair, Ianto inspects the ceiling fan before doing his best to turn it on without pulling the whole contraption down. He manages to find himself a glass for some water, downing it like a drowning man before poking through the fridge's contents and settling on a beer. Removing his overshirt to to join his cloak on the chair as he pours himself into the seat and wait for Jim's return.

It feels... Odd, to be here without him, and the discomfort of it just adds to the rest of the discomforts of the day. He doesn't really want to think about the mission, though. And the failure. And what it might mean for Olympia, if the bandits really do get that Heart to the shamans. (He'd really rather spend his night not thinking about much at all, if he can help himself.) So he sits, and drinks, and waits, and hopes Jim might have something else to eat besides that casserole...