Disclaimer: As ever, they aren't mine.

Setting: Between series 1 and 2 - when Jack is AWOL.

Notes: Popped into my head while commuting, so here it is. A little plotless but hopefully it will raise a smile.

The team sat, or more accurately slumped, around the hub's coffee table which was covered with empty beer bottles. It was so late that it could be considered early and the girls were curled up fast asleep on the ratty sofa while Owen and Ianto had pulled up office chairs from Tosh and Owen's desk and were cradling glasses of whisky.

Ianto looked at his watch, took in the early hour and sighed heavily, his normally crisp Welsh vowels softened with drink and exhaustion.

"S'not worth going to bed now," he noted, "When was the last time the Rift stayed closed long enough for us to get a full night's sleep?"

Owen's eyes were closed, and Ianto wondered for a moment if he'd nodded off, before he spoke, eyes still closed.

"Umm... probably a week last Tuesday," there was a pause, "Ever get the feeling that we're getting too old for this shit?"

Ianto looked highly affronted.

"Speak for yourself, I'm only 26!" He took another gulp of whisky, deep in thought, "Mind you I've already caught a dinosaur, nearly been eaten by cannibals, misplaced colleagues in time, misplaced a boss God knows where, had a collection of colleagues turned into robots, shot a colleague, had another brought back from the dead, had my girlfriend turned into a robot and been repeatedly sexually harassed for wearing a suit...so I'm cramming plenty in. Never dull is it?"

Owen shook his head, in agreement,

"Definitely not dull. Knackering. But not dull."

Ianto spun his chair round to look at the computer screen, alcohol making his spin slightly more enthusiastic that it might otherwise have been. He grabbed the desk to stabilise himself earning a chuckle from Owen.

"What'ya doing Ianto?"

Ianto clicked a couple of keys half-heartedly before spinning back, this time with slightly more grace.

"Just seeing what we can expect for tomo-, toda-, later."

"Same old, same old," Owen stated after a moment's thought, "Aliens, death, destruction... a meat feast pizza."

Ianto tipped his head in acknowledgement.

"We've seen a lot though."

"Yep."

"Some of it has be good."

"Definitely..." Owen paused, "At the time at least," he remembered the pilfered aphrodisiac spray, "Sometimes the cleanup can be a bloody mess though."

Ianto's laugh was a strangled cross between agreement and disbelief. Owen's idea of tidying up was shoving things to the end of his desk in a teetering pile, the idea of him actually cleaning up one of Torchwood's more "elaborate" messes, was laughable. Owen rolled his eyes and tossed a wadded up sheet of paper at the younger man, it bounced of his head and landed on the floor, earning him a raised eyebrow from the Welshman, spoiled by a poorly stifled giggle.

"Can it Teaboy." Owen shook his head in despair, earning another giggle, "Is there anything you'd want to see?" he asked after a moment.

Ianto appeared to give this serious concentration, stopping the giggles by biting on his lip.

"Little green men," he answered finally, "None of this grey nonsense. Properly green. Years of reading bad sci-fi has built up the promise of little green men, I thought they'd be dropping in every week - something must have given writers the idea. But no! Where are they Owen?"e grabbed a gh

Owen snorted at his incensed team-mate.

"Dunno mate." He emptied his glass, and settled in his chair, finally ready for sleep, "but there's always tomorrow."

Ianto nodded, letting his eyes drift to the photo of Jack, Gwen had pinned to the incident board. Who knew what tomorrow would bring...