“Owen, your flies are undone,” said Ianto.
“Haha, Teaboy, pull the other one. I know what day it is, you’ll have to work harder than that if you want to fool me,” Owen grouched, breezing past him and stalking out of the Tourist Office.
Watching him go, Ianto shrugged.
“Suit yourself,” he muttered to Owen’s retreating back. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Up on the Plas, Owen sauntered up to a group of young women.
“Lovely day, ladies,” he greeted.
“Aren’t you a little drafty?”
He looked down.
Of all the days to go commando…