Coffee table?

He'd gone and died, this time in the middle of some miserably cold field. Soft pressure on his chest alerted Jack to something amiss, and he held back the gasps for air as his lungs reacquainted with the icy temperature, kept still as his heart pounded in his ears. His sight returned after, greeting him with his team huddled close, reaching out in concern—

"You guys used me to keep the coffee warm again, didn't you?"

"Sorry, sir." Ianto snatched his mug back before Jack could comment on its location, the others following suit. "You were the hottest thing here."

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