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Ianto Jones is writing in his diary and having coffee.

There's a lot of catching up to do--things happen fast sometimes, and it wasn't but two pages ago that he was missing Jack and wondering what he'd say if Jack ever returned, and now...

Well, Ianto doesn't use a lot of exclamation points, as a general rule. But one or two may have turned up in today's entry.

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Puck blinks.

"Like that, you mean?"

"You moved a bit faster than is normally possible when you sat down."

"Oh."

Puck beams.

"Well, 'normal' is as normal does-- and I find I rarely do."

"I...see," says Ianto, and really, he's quite used to relative normalcy.

"I'm Ianto," he adds. "I have a baseline normality."

"Puck," he replies cheerfully.

He doesn't meet many Iantos these days.

"Enchanted."

(It happens to be both descriptor and pleasantry; Ianto is free to read it as such ... or to miss it.)

There aren't many Iantos to meet.

"Nice to meet you," he says and then he straightens up a little. "Puck as in Robin Goodfellow?"

"The very same," Puck says cheerfully.

"Why-- have you heard of me?"

Preen preen preen.

"I have," says Ianto.

He looks harmless, but so do bipedal blowfish until you get them into a drinking establishment or near a sportscar. And then...

Puck frets a little.

"All good?"

"Er," says Ianto.

"No. Actually I've been warned about you. Rather vaguely, which I'm afraid has only made me curious, but apparently you're wily and dangerous."

"Am I?"

Puck appears terribly put out.

"Scandal. I must say I object; I have not nearly the intelligence to be wily."

"But you clearly are quite dangerous, particularly to caffeinated beverages."

He laughs, running a hand through his hair in some embarrassment.

"But sir," he protests, "such beverages have neither wit nor sensibility. Need I take them into account? A cow may be a danger to a field of clover, but I find it difficult to imagine that any should therefore fear to go near one."

"The humble coffee cup has no means of self-defense," Ianto counters. "It's up to us to treat it with respect."

:O

"But has it any feelings?" he wants to know.

"Else how should it know respect from digestion?"

"Of course coffee feels things. Strongly and darkly."

Puck laughs, surprised.

"Well-- and I suppose it must."

Ianto smiles and sips.

If his coffee objects, it is silent on the matter.

"So, if I know my Shakespeare, you are actually one of the Fair Folk, yeah?"

"Whether you know it or not," Puck says dryly, "such I assuredly am."

"Well, the name is a big hint."

Puck gets eyed a little.

"You're a lot less green than other fae I've encountered, is why I ask."

Puck laughs.

"In terms of worldliness, or coloration?"

(His skin turns to an abrupt asparagus hue.)

"Colorization," says Ianto faintly. "Don't tell me you can control the weather, too."

Puck looks shifty.

"I shan't tell you, then. As a courtesy."

Ianto chuckles dryly--very dryly, Sahara-dryly--and sips his coffee again.

"One of these days I hope I'll get used to all the magic in this place."

"And on another day," Puck replies, more or less in kind, "I hope to grow accustomed to all the mortals."