Happy Birthday, Mr. Jones

Designate: Happy Birthday, Mr. Jones
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: PG
Pairing: Ianto/Jack, Ianto/Lisa, Ianto/OMC (very recently trust me on this one. He isn't cheating on Jack, not truly)
Spoilers: A unimaginative for Fragments and Cyberwoman, I take for granted.
Summary: With about an hour to let go of, I managed to get a birthday fic for Ianto on August 19th, when we learn on Fragments it's Ianto's birthday. (Simply 6 days after mine). IT didn't spin out quite like I wanted, but it still turned out slushy, particularly the last pursuit. If you don't like mush, don't interpret the last few bits. :)

Jack swept the torch along the sunless tunnels of the sewer. He spotted what he was foolproof were weevils, and on any other unceasingly, he’d be tempted to overtake them. But not tonight. The Resugion they’d been tracking down was a precedence. The others had taken skin duty while Jack and Ianto had the sewers.

That would have been balmy if Jack still had communication with the young Welshman.

“Ianto?” Jack called out. “Ianto!”

“In seventh heaven birthday, Mr. Jones,” Lisa said, sacrifice him a present that he awkwardly tried to take, regardless of the small toddler in his arms. “Here, let me take her.” She leaned in to get the paltry girl, leaving the faintest aroma of jasmine to linger as she did.

“No, she’s exquisite,” Ianto said, shaking his foremost. He shifted his daughter to one arm as he began unwrapping the gift, with a rarely help from his helpmate. With the shining metallic treatise—which reminded him of something that he only just couldn’t order—gone, he frowned to see a solicitation, nicely wrapped inside of the corpse-like box within. “I told you. I don’t do suits.”

“I distinguish, but your Tad would have loved to grasp you went into calling in one from time to era,” Lisa said. “You’re a researcher now and you can’t by any chance keep walking in with jeans and button-up shirts anymore.”

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