Ianto is well familiar with Dahlia’s routine, quirks, and peccadilloes. He’s more than willing to allow her a certain measure of hermitage when she deigns to stop on rare and precious occasions when she actually acknowledges her limitations. It can’t hurt, only help to allow her to lick her wounds in peace…and she always makes it worth his while to miss her a little.
But this isn’t a break. By the time late afternoon is flirting with evening, he’s well and truly concerned.
Still, he’s not unreasonable: rather than strong arm his way into her company, he makes good use of the kitchen’s limited resources and lets himself into her room with a tray of herbal tea and toast with some meager apricot preserves scrounged from the pantry and of only slightly questionable age.
“C’mon.” He instructs quietly, bringing the tray over and setting it on her bedside table. “We are sitting up in bed. Tea time, sweetheart. Boyfriend’s orders.”
no subject
But this isn’t a break. By the time late afternoon is flirting with evening, he’s well and truly concerned.
Still, he’s not unreasonable: rather than strong arm his way into her company, he makes good use of the kitchen’s limited resources and lets himself into her room with a tray of herbal tea and toast with some meager apricot preserves scrounged from the pantry and of only slightly questionable age.
“C’mon.” He instructs quietly, bringing the tray over and setting it on her bedside table. “We are sitting up in bed. Tea time, sweetheart. Boyfriend’s orders.”