The waiter came by with their second round of drinks, and Ianto thanked him for them, taking another sip of ale before continuing. "Oh, come off it. Cockles are mollusks. Little clams, really. Don't ask me why they call them that, though, I really couldn't tell you. Sounds awful, doesn't it?" He made a face, laughing slightly. "Almost as bad as 'laverbread'." Okay, yes. Ianto was more relaxed, thanks to the alcohol. He took another long drink of his ale, enjoying himself, the brew, and the company.

He ate some of his chips as he listened to Sulu talk about replicated food. He'd honestly forgotten the whole bit about there not being any famine in the world anymore, that no one out there was starving. It was hard to remember that, well, at least Sulu's future was a better place, when there were still some really pretty horrible conditions going on right at that very moment. "Must be nice," Ianto said, after a moment, "living like that. Never having to really want for material goods, at any rate. Certainly better than working yourself to death just to scrape by. Not... Not that I do that, with a job like Torchwood," he said, flushing a little, "but still. My...my sister still lives in an estate, and all."