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The door to the Tourist Information Centre swings open with a jingle of bells. Ianto repositions himself behind the front desk and offers what he hopes isn't a strained smile as a portly tourist waddles in. The man's bright yellow Hawaiian shirt pains Ianto's eyes, and Ianto does his best not to squint against the glare.
"Good afternoon," Ianto says, ignoring the occasional clicking and tapping noises coming from the back room. "May I help you?"
"Oh, hello! My wife and I were looking for a good place for a daytrip, preferably somewhere shady and quiet as it's so hot today—" The man stops, startled, as the sound of a small chainsaw revving up fills the small shop. "Am I interrupting something?"
"No, not at all. We're just undergoing some—minor renovations." Ianto pulls out a map from under his desk and begins to circle locations on it with a red felt-tip pen. As he does so, the high-pitched whine grows more insistent by the second. "Cardiff Castle is popular, and it's quite easy to reach," Ianto shouts over the din, leaning across the table so the man will hear him better. "Or if you want something indoors, I think the National Museum might be open for tours—"
A bloodcurdling shriek cuts off Ianto in mid-sentence, quickly followed by a spray of red and blue gore through the bead curtain that separates the front from the back room. A quivering lump of dark-blue flesh sails through the air and lands with a loud splat on the map, directly on top of where St. Fagans would be.
"Sorry!" The whine abruptly stops; Owen sticks his head through the curtain, wearing scrubs and spattered in blue goop. "The saw kicked back right when Jack came in, he'll be fine in a minute—oh. You're busy?"
"I might be," says Ianto dryly. "You couldn't have held off on the autopsy for another five minutes, could you?"
"Only if you can make the electricity in the freezers work. Say, did a liver come through just now? I'm missing one."
Ianto picks up the organ from the table and lobs it at Owen, who catches it just inches from his head. "Thanks. Oh, and Gwen wanted me to tell you, she's called utilities and they'll drop in sometime next week. Or the week after, I don't know. They've also stopped the water flow downstairs, so the flooding should hold steady until they get here."
"Wonderful." Owen disappears into the back-office-turned-operation-room while Ianto turns his attention back to the front. The tourist has acquired a slight greenish tinge that can't possibly be healthy, while the map between them has a slowly-spreading blue stain that is eating away at all of Cardiff and dripping into the Bay.
"Um, so." Ianto clears his throat and resolves to shoot Jack the next time he quips that even super-secret organizations are allowed to have plumbing issues. "Maybe you'd like a new map, sir?"