It didn't occur to Tony that Ianto was headed home from the office on a Sunday of a holiday weekend, or to immediately say anything upon hearing the man sneeze. He was too busy calculating the distance between between himself and the fire escape, and the diameter of the blast, and what that would mean for his adjustments back in the lab.
"Bless you." Tony had carefully tucked his calculations away in his mind before doubling back to allow for common courtesies. "You know, you didn't have to come in today. I mean, I like it --shows dedication-- but I've been in the lab since it's-- hell, it's Sunday, isn't it?" So he wouldn't have any meetings that afternoon. Well, that was good news. It wasn't unlike him to lose track of time when he was working on something, especially the suit.
Tony looked down at the two places where the bullets had hit metal. The damage was just cosmetic, but still they were there and he'd have to do something about it. "Paint job," he muttered. It was something he'd been meaning to do anyway. "You call your gun Betty?"