Owen was going to be the death of him. Seriously. He could feel a fight on the air but couldn't understand why and that disturbed him. After all, Ianto had bolted from Cardiff and he and Jack were managing to get back to Okay.
"Way back," he agreed with Tonks. "And the bird was disgusting. Ate my coat then threw it up back at me. My dry cleaner thought I was insane. If it's something like that doing this here, I will probably pitch a fit, just to warn you." He flashed smiles all around and looked up to see who needed a cup of something and if any of them needed said cup to be refreshed.
"Sit, Owen. Make yourself comfortable. Ah. You and I would be able to go past the cracks, Jack. Owen can't. And am I right in assuming you just turned up here as well, Tonks?" Ianto rested his back against the sofa and reached for one of his maps. Sure, rather close to Jack's legs, but who was counting? ...Owen was going to kill him.