It had been a long week for Torchwood. One of those weeks where instead of one big, gooey problem that kept them working round the clock, it was a steady diet of constant crises, usually requiring full team involvement, and always arising within hours of the last crisis. Add that to the Welsh weather that couldn't decide if it wanted to be a normal, rainy February or a dry but dangerously cold one, and Team Torchwood were, in a word, knackered.

Ianto Jones hated being cold. He prided himself on preparing for whatever the weather may bring, but even the best preparation wasn't entirely foolproof. Left stood on the pavement for more than 45 minutes in -7C weather with a light veil of snow driven on a wind, Ianto Jones was cold. His wool hat, double-lined gloves, heavy scarf and topcoat, and thick socks were only doing so much after the first 15 minutes.

At last, Ianto's contact showed up, mere moments before Ianto decided to give up and hope his flesh wouldn't crack like an eggshell when he moved. Securing the necessary information from the Siloportem (which apparently found the frigid weather quite balmy) Ianto fumbled with his mobile to ring for a taxi to get him back to the Hub from Rumney.

Once he got back, all Ianto wanted to do with wrap up in something warm and fluffy and not move until he'd thawed out. The 15 minutes in a warm taxi had been helpful, but he still turned up the heat the moment he walked in and considered making coffee just to help warm up on the inside.

Ianto was just scooping out a measure of coffee when the cog-door alarm went and Jack breezed in, rubbing his hands together and declaring that it was 'a bit nipply out there'.

"How'd it go with the Siloportem?" Jack asked, shaking off his coat.

"Their temporal perception is apparently about as accurate as their temperature perception," Ianto grumbled.

"Huh?"

"It was late. It was 45 minutes late. With me waiting for it on the pavement. It didn't seem bothered by the fact that it was well below freezing, had got dark, and was snowing."

"Oh." Jack frowned. "Guess you're… kinda not in a great mood, then."

"I've been in better moods," Ianto agreed. Then he stopped and turned to Jack. "Why? Please, don't tell me there's something else to chase after. Lie to me if you must."

"Uh, no, nothing to chase. And I'm not lying about that. I'd just kinda been thinking… rest of the night is looking quiet. Thought maybe you'd like to go to dinner. But if you're not in the mood, we could always just -"

Ianto stopped Jack with a hand on his arm. "Is it someplace warm?" he asked.

Jack nodded.

Ianto put the coffee away and started re-buttoning his topcoat. "What time is the reservation?"

Jack looked startled for a moment, then shook his head. "Naturally you'd see through me. We have a table for 7:00, but we can always get something warming at the bar if we're early."

"Yes, please," Ianto said, glad he didn't have to change to be smart enough for a nice dinner. He did decide to change his shoes, though, as the leather of the pair he had on was still cold from standing about before.

"Want to wear my coat?" Jack offered as they headed up to the tourist office.

Ianto considered it a moment but shook his head. "I'll manage. It's a short walk, and moving will keep me warmer than I was standing still."

Jack started to pull his coat back on, then stopped. "I didn't tell you where I made reservations."

Ianto smirked. "Really, Jack?"

Jack sighed. "You probably knew before I even had the idea. It's practically impossible to surprise you."

"You're a creature of habit," Ianto observed. "And you telegraph every thought that passes through your mind."

"No I don't," Jack pouted. "People tell me all the time I'm an enigma."

Ianto smiled fondly and shook his head. "People don't often look much beyond the jawline. Anyway, you died a couple days ago, and you're always craving their fillet steak with peppercorn sauce after a death."

Jack looked appraisingly at Ianto for a moment, then said, "Call it a reminder to appreciate the finer things. Shall we?" he said, offering his arm.

In only a few, hurried minutes, they were sat at the bayside bar and Ianto already felt warmer with a classic Widow's Kiss in hand, accompaniment to Jack's dry martini – a surer sign than any that this was now officially a night off for Torchwood's Captain.

Jack raised his glass to Ianto, saying, "Here's to us."

"To us," Ianto echoed before taking a sip and sighing. "I needed this."

"Me too. Long week," Jack said with a sigh of his own.

"So… is that the occasion? Long week?"

Jack shrugged, picking up the dinner menu, even though he knew Ianto was right and he'd just have the fillet steak, as usual. "We both earned a night off and a nice meal. Say, they have a fruit salmon this month…."

"Jack."

Jack glanced over and ducked his chin a bit. "Well… I knew you wouldn't want anything big on Valentine's Day… so, you know, I figured, a couple days before…. Anyway, doesn't have to be a reason. It's always a good time for a night out with you."

"Thank you," Ianto said quietly, reaching over to squeeze Jack's knee.

"You're welcome," Jack smiled. "Once you're thawed and fed, we can go home and celebrate some more," he suggested.

"There doesn't have to be a reason for that, either," Ianto grinned.