Sorting and cataloguing the eclectic jumble of random objects in the Torchwood archives was an often-tedious job, but Ianto was nothing if not thorough. He went through each of the many archive rooms in turn, opening boxes, photographing the contents, noting down all relevant details and where possible, identifying items.
Some things were from other planets, some were from earth’s past or future, some defied explanation.
The next box was labelled simply ‘Seal.’
Ianto opened it, expecting some ornate antique object for sealing letters.
It was a seal alright; twelve inches of fluffy grey plush.
“Oh. That sort of seal.”