Oh so subtly adds to her ever-growing clowder because cute!

Gathers all of the fur and feathered babies into the main room and waits with them for Wesley Wyndam-Pryce to come collect his gifts.

"Penblwydd hapus Ianto Jones. Celebrate well and enjoy your day."

"Bake Off time!" Squeals and bounces about on the sofa.

Shuffles over to @AJumbledMind's sofa for watching certain things...and possibly stealing a certain kitty.

"Pastry is bloody difficult to make. It requires hands as cold as Wes' just for starters."

Mumbles into her mug about how she'd do better than any of these people.

"The last time I attempted a savory souffle poor Angel thought there was a swamp demon in the building."

Gets bloody tired of trying to set fire to the Christmas tree the office produced. Opens the window and throws it outside instead. Grabs a bottle of whatever Wesley Wyndam-Pryce keeps in stock and heads to bed.

Grabs herself a bottle of wine, curls up in one of Wesley Wyndam-Pryce's old shirts, and settles in to read for the night. Just like she does every night. Because what's so bloody great about love anyway.