Ianto was becoming convinced that Torchwood, the Rift, or possibly the universe in general, had something against him. Dignity, it seemed, was something that happened to other people; his was long since shredded beyond repair.
All he could do was stand there, with thirty-seven miniature silver lizardy things perched on his head, fluttering their tiny wings and beeping happily, as the rest of the team made fun of him. Try as he might, he couldn’t imagine what he’d done to deserve this!
“You were the first thing they saw after they hatched; they must think you’re their mother,” Jack chuckled.
TBC in ‘Mummy Ianto’