it's not what it looks like
"What makes you say that?" Ianto asked with a smirk, sipping at his tea once it was cool enough and savouring the taste of it. "Our entirely professional relationship would be compromised, if people didn't believe it. Then again, though, they haven't seen my wagon." He chuckled, though there was a quizzical look on his face as he considered Remi.
Would he go back? To that Ianto could only wrinkle his nose and shrug. "Perhaps," he said vaguely, absently touching a hand to the leather collar about his neck. He had been born a slave, sold on as a slave to Warren, freed upon falling into the Greatwood only to shackle himself up all over again. At least in Northaven Remi had remembered him.
"It's easier, now that the barrier is down and I realised all of you were behind it, I suppose."
Would he go back? To that Ianto could only wrinkle his nose and shrug. "Perhaps," he said vaguely, absently touching a hand to the leather collar about his neck. He had been born a slave, sold on as a slave to Warren, freed upon falling into the Greatwood only to shackle himself up all over again. At least in Northaven Remi had remembered him.
"It's easier, now that the barrier is down and I realised all of you were behind it, I suppose."
