Ianto’s had a long day and an even longer night; anyone who thinks working for Torchwood is glamorous and exciting must be insane. It’s no cushy nine-to-five job with weekends off, that’s for sure; working twenty-four hour days isn’t unusual.
Still, the latest apocalypse has been averted and the Rift’s quiet; they might actually get some downtime. Jack says they should go home; nobody needs telling twice.
Ianto reaches his flat at sunrise and feels a pang of regret. Looks like it’ll be a beautiful day, but he won’t get to enjoy it. The only place he’s going is bed!