Are you telling me that you're actually from Wales? Ianto has to roll his eyes at that one, which John should be able to see quite clearly now that he's spun him around.

"Of course I'm from bloody Wales, where the hell else would Welsh people come from, Narnia?" Ianto barks out, his blue eyes snapping at the other man as he does. He clenches his jaw, angrier than he thinks he's ever been, because this is not how this evening should have gone, and if he's lost that -- if he's lost everything they had, everything they might have been, with no explanation in the least -- then yes he has a right to be angry.

"I don't work for anybody," he replies, trying to collect himself enough to respond. "I don't know what sort of game you think I'm playing here, but it isn't like that. My name is Ianto Jones, and I... We're supposed to be friends."

Among. Other things.