The lighter goes back into his pocket with no fake magic (though it never reaches the bottom) because Ianto's way too distracted putting together that May was months ago. When is it, even? Jesus. He takes the cigarette from his mouth and taps the ash into nothingness. "It's quantum entangled with itself from the future," he explains blithely. "Probably. Or an identical house in disrepair."

He waves a hand, dismissing both or either possibilities. Either's possible and it doesn't matter which it is. He uses the pause to suck on the cig again. "It displaces you from one to the other when you cross a threshold. There's some sort of psychic field as well, one for each house, or just one that's gotten ornery over time." He lowers the cigarette again, frowning. "May was really a couple of months ago?"