Ianto really had been tired himself, and pretty much had slept like a rock once he'd actually let himself go. He wakes slowly, to the sensation of John's hand on his shoulder, warm and heavy, and the sound of him sliding out of the bed to the bathroom. It's comfortable, but foreign enough to keep him from drifting back to sleep and he hovers on the edge of consciousness listening to the other man readying himself for the day. Unable to help himself from smiling at his feuding with the AI.

It's harder to get himself up but John manages it with a hand on his arm and the murmured promise of, in John’s words, a nice hot breakfast. Ianto grumbles as he forces himself up and out of bed but he washes and dresses quickly enough. He's already missing the warm press of the blankets above him and John against his back but a sweater, boots, jacket and a scarf do well enough in a pinch he supposes. Also coffee. Coffee would be nice.

Ianto isn't certain he's fully awake until John has sat him down and stuck a mug of it in front of him. He grips it with both hands, taking careful sips as he turns his gaze from where he had been lazily surveying the crowd back to John.

"Get into it?" he asks, careful to at least keep his voice down as he does so. He gestures around them -- they're sitting in the Central's mess hall after all, technically they're already inside of it. "I take it you mean in a less literal sense of the word. Are we planning espionage over breakfast?"