There's something satisfying about the way Ianto takes the bait, about the way he's instantly interested. Or maybe it's just the pleasure of knowing that he understands the other man well enough to judge how to draw him into something like this. Or maybe it was just pleasure in the concentration on Ianto's face, the way he became so focused when faced with a problem like this.

"Very good, Miss Galore, I was thinking the same thing."

John flicks Ianto a wry smile, feeds himself some more of the porridge.

"I have an idea," he says finally, and the smile turns more playful.