The Universe's Mixer

With the absence of the Rift, and all the backwash and problems that accompanied it, Ianto had more time to spare. Although, ironically, there had turned out to be almost as much of the weird and wonderful mysteries here as back home, especially now there was no longer UNIT to rely on 'just in case'.

Tonight, he headed into the city by foot; he was in the mood for walking, so he did. Quickly, mind you. Spend enough time chasing after creatures in the wider world which scratched and fought and pushed for their moment to spring out under the cover of darkness, then no. Spending too much time outside at night was something to avoid, up there with small enclosed spaces and solitary Weevil hunts.

In one of the less busy streets, the sign of a bar called to him. Opening the doors, the soothing, crooning notes of Sinatra drifted through the dimly-lit room, and he permitted himself a private smile at that. He turned his eyes to the main bar, where rows of bottles were eagerly anticipating someone with a spare minute to indulge in them.