Jack had woken feeling gloomy. The Rift was in one of its hyperactive phases, spitting out sundry items across Cardiff and the surrounding countryside. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the weather was foul, with pouring rain and gale force winds, and the Weevils were revolting.
Truth be told, Weevils were always revolting, so no change there.
He was slumped at his desk, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders, when Ianto entered, bearing coffee, doughnuts, and a single red rose.
“Dydd Santes Dwynwen Hapus, Jack!”
Jack smiled. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad day after all!