Ianto wasn’t a big churchgoer, but he still liked to attend on Easter Sunday when Torchwood allowed.
“So, how was the service?” Jack asked him when he returned to the Hub.
“It was nice. Different. The new vicar ate a daffodil. The flower, not the bulb.”
“Oh. Why? Alien influence?”
“Don’t think so. He was making a point about how you can never predict what people will do next.”
Just then, Tosh got up, walked over to Owen and tipped her cup of tea over his head.
“Huh. Well, we already knew that.”
Ianto nodded. “Lunch?”
“I’ll get my coat.”