“Thought you said there was an emergency,” Owen grumbled, entering the Hub at three in the morning to find both Jack and Ianto clearly unharmed, if a bit frazzled.
“There was. Is, I mean,” Jack muttered.
“You both look fine to me.”
“We are. It’s Myf who’s the problem,” Ianto explained sheepishly. “I was throwing pieces of chocolate for her and she missed one. She went after it, but she got a bit… stuck.”
Ianto gestured to where Myfanwy lay spread-eagled on the catwalk, her beak jammed in the grating.
“We need another pair of hands to pull her out.”