Jack woke up. He could feel something rough and textured against his cheek. Fibres swam into focus as his eyes became clear. Two other things came into focus. A cup of industrial strength coffee lay on the Briefing Room table and a pair of sharp, black eyes stared back at him.

Jack didn't know why he did it. It just sort of happened. All he knew now was that the thing was looking at him with small, beady eyes. The cage sat on top of the table, the bird inside glared at Jack with its head cocked to one side, as if Jack was the one who wasn't supposed to be here. Green, blue and red fluffy feathers flared out behind it's onyx eyes and razor sharps claws dug into the perch.

Why on earth had he bought a parrot?

Last night was a bit of a blur. The events of the previous night seemed to be wrapped in a warm fuzzy cloud. A few details made their way through though. There had been a meal, yeah, and, and a bar. Jack's memories grew hazy after that. And Ianto was there, and there was something else... Something clicked inside his head. Singing.

Oh no...

*****

Down the road, a shop manager wondered why one of the main windows of his business premises had been broken. He didn't become really confused until he found that the till had been smashed against a wall. There was an extra wad of money stuffed inside the small gap between the tray and the counter. The sum of money was more than enough to pay for the damage several times over. After sweeping up and checking the stock, the manager reached a conclusion.

Someone must have really wanted that parrot.

*****

"The Meelven Bird of Paradise was named as such, not because it's colourful plumage, but because the native Meelven's admired the creature for its intelligence. The bird's plumage greatly depends on the area which the bird specialises in. A bird with a vast knowledge of mathematics will have a black and purple coat whereas one exceeding in the psychological field with have a coat of white feathers tipped with pink and so on. Perhaps one of the most astonishing varieties of this bird is the 'Bird of a Thousand Sounds' or the auditory variety. With it's beautiful green, blue and red plumage, this creature was commonly used as a messenger between opposing armies by primitive cultures. Recently, the vast majority of these extraordinary winged beings have travelled to Earth where they have blended in with the planets native 'Parrots.' Of course, the Meelven Bird is far superior to these Earth-bound fowls, but so far, they seem to be doing fine. The main way to tell the difference between the two is to first take..."

Jack snapped his wristband shut. Its species recognition software had done nothing to lift his mood. On the other hand, he now knew three things as compared to one.

One: he had bought/stolen a Meelven Bird of Paradise.

Two: he had been off his head (drunk/pissed/air locked/whatever) last night.

Three: he had woken up in the same room as the aforementioned bird.

They didn't sound like good things to know.

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Two weeks had passed since Jack had his "night-off". Try as he might, the Captain hadn't been able to get the bird to utter any more than a syllable. The feathered being had stayed mute, refusing to reveal its secret. Jack deemed that the bird must be dumb in either one or both senses of the word and left it on the table. Jack knew it that there was no need for it to remain inside the Hub, but it brightened up the room and made a good talking point. Jack may not have liked the bird's eyes, but then again, he didn't like Owen's eyes either and he never complained about that.

The team trooped into the Briefing Room. Tosh had tried to pet the bird, but hastily withdrew her fingers after almost losing them to the Meelven bird's razor beak. Owen's smirk vanished as the 'parrot' fixed him with a beady glare. Owen stared back, but it was hopeless. A Meelven Bird of Paradise could outstare a mirror.

5 minutes past quickly. They didn't want to hang around.

It wasn't until Gwen had moved onto her slide about patterns in rift activity when Jack noticed it. Every so often, the bird at the centre of the table would make a low moan. At first, he had mistaken it for the quiet hum of hi-tech machinery, but the bird had increased in volume. Jack shot the bird a Look, trying to get his message into the bird's thick skull. Don't, his eyes warned, not unless you see a profitable future out of being tied onto a stick and roasted over a fire. Jack had never tried roasted parrot, but apparently it tasted like chicken. But then, they said that about frog's legs and, from Jack's experience, they tasted more like mud.

The bird went silent, but continued to stare at Jack. It's small, beady eyes glinted with what can only be described as mischief. Jack hadn't been able to get Ianto to say what had happened that night. Ianto's memory had stretched as far as the pet shop, when Jack had thrown a bin through the front display window, took the 'parrot' and left after smashing the till open and jamming in a wad of rolled up notes. A thought flashed through Jack's mind. Don't be that. It didn't hear that, it couldn't have, could it? Surely me and Ianto had more sense than that.

The bird's moaning had started again. The rest of the team where paying to much attention to the Power-point to notice as Jack slowly reached towards the cage. He had to shut the damn bird up before...

"Jack". His head whirled around to the sound of Ianto's voice, his hand still half way between its normal position and the cage. It wasn't like Ianto to sound that low this early in the morning.

"Jack." Ianto's voice sounded lower this time, almost husky. Now, unless Ianto was a secret ventriloquist, Jack knew a bird which was going to get strangled in the foreseeable future.

The team began to take notice of the unfolding drama. Owen had completely turned his chair. He'd never been interested in rift activity. He only joined to chase aliens and because it sounded good. Owen, and people like him, aren't interested in the specifics, just the action and it looked like there was some going on at the table. Tosh still thought the bird was adorable, even if it had almost had a snack on her fingers.

"Aw... Cute, Jack, it knows you're name. How long did it take you to train it to do that?" Tosh asked as she sat with her head resting on her hands. There were certain times when Jack thought the Tosh was a lot more stupid than she was. This was one of them.

Thankfully, Ianto still looked confused. If Jack could only get the man out of the room before the bird said anything incriminating he might have a chance of living through the day. The object of Jack's attention kept glancing from Jack to the bird and back again. Jack's brain began to formulate a plan to get Ianto to hell out of this room.

"Oh God Lord, Jack." A few heavy breaths emitted from the bird's throat. "Don't... Don't stop."

The room froze as the bird continued. Ianto's face was turning a rather becoming shade of purest scarlet. Note to self, Ianto looks rather good in red. The team sat staring at the bird, looks of horror, disgust, shock, and rather disturbingly in Owen's case, amusement crossed their faces in turn. When the damned feathery fiend finally finished, the spell was broken. Tosh was the first to leave the room. The door squeaked as it swung shut. She was closely followed by Gwen, who was struggling to keep a straight face.

"Manly scream you've got there, Ianto." Owen quirked as he rose from his chair.

Jack turned to face Ianto's death glare.

Oh, if looks could kill.

*****

It took two and a half hours for the swelling in his cheeks to go down.

Ianto Jones may have a talent for tea-making, but he also knows how to give one hell of a slap.