On the twelfth day of Christmas, Ianto had to admit he was pleasantly surprised.
After strange birds, gold bells, French girls, pipe-layers and bricklayers, frogs, turtles, cows, bewildered aliens and dancing pensioners, the steel drum band was a relief, bringing the sound of the Caribbean to wintry Cardiff.
Dancing around the Plas, held closely in Jack’s arms, Ianto reflected that all in all, Christmas was turning out to be quite pleasant after all. One good day made all the difference.
As for the Rift, it breathed a sigh of relief; finally it had succeeded in making its beloved Ianto happy.