Pilot 3
Pilot threeeeeee!
This idea came to me while re-reading 'The Ballad of Reading Gaol' by Oscar Wilde, who is one of my favourite writers EVAR. It's not exactly related ... in fact, it was just the whole jail thing that set it off.
Anyways ... here's my third 'pilot' .....
This. Was. Not. Fair.
Ianto followed the guard quietly, hugging his bag of things to himself. The place was noisy, with its long, stretching, bleach-stenched, tile-covered corridors amplifying the smallest of sounds. The colour scheme was bland, and eventually the whites started giving way to flat, dull greys designed to make anyone who looked on them feel gloomy and subdued.
That's why prisons are grey, Ianto reminded himself. To make you feel like shit.
There were bars on every door, and any door that had a glass window in it was reinforced by mesh. Each door scraped and clanged ominously as he was lead through them, until eventually he and the guard emerged into an empty, cavernous room filled with tables and benches, one solitary prisoner in the standard grey boiler suit mopping in the corner. Metal stairs lead up to the four stories above, where the cells lined the walls and all walkways looked down into the canteen.
Ianto stood and stared up at the ceiling, wondering what bitterly cruel person had decided that skylights covered with bars would be a good idea for a prison. Ianto stared up at the little tent of bright blue revealed above him, before he was brought back down to earth by the guard clearing his throat.
"Sorry, officer ...." he mumbled, following behind again, heading towards the stairs.
"We had a bit of a riot yesterday, so all the prisoners are locked in their cells," the guard explained. "And don't call me 'officer', call me Rhys."
"Yes, sir. I mean ... off ... I mean ... Rhys?"
Rhys gave a small laugh as they began to climb up the stairs. "So what you in for, Jones?"
"Oh ... um ... it's complicated."
"Well, get your story straight for your housemates, 'cause they're gonna wanna know."
Ianto felt himself blush. "Oh ... right ...."
Rhys caught the pink in his cheeks. "Something not too impressive?" he guessed.
"Not really - and on top of that I didn't even do it." he muttered bitterly.
"Oh? Did you not?"
"No."
"You should have told someone."
"Oh ha ha."
"'Nuff of the sarcasm."
"Sorry, sir."
"Rhys."
"Rhys."
Rhys was panting with the exertion of getting all the way up the stairs, and Ianto wasn't faring too much better. They got to the top, and Ianto took a moment to peer over the edge of the walkway lining the walls down into the empty cantina.
"You're not thinking of jumping, are ya?" asked Rhys, putting a firm hand on his shoulder.
"No ... just ... acquainting myself with the view," Ianto sighed.
"How long you in for?"
"Six years."
"What was it you didn't do again?"
"Just ... stuff."
Rhys shrugged. "Ah!" he exclaimed by one of the doors. "This is you. Just a warning: your cellmate isn't very well acquainted with the idea of 'sharing', and if we could put you somewhere else we would, if only to save the trouble for ourselves when he kicks up the fuss. Just ... watch yourself, okay?"
Ianto stared at him wide-eyed. "What's he in for?"
"All sorts," shrugged Rhys. "Though he's only got six years left, too. You could be freedom buddies!"
Ianto blinked. "But ... I'm only for petty crime! You can't ... I don't wanna ...."
"Listen, Jones. You're a tiny weed of a pretty boy. Without someone like him on your side you might note even survive your first month. Seriously: I'm doing you a favour."
"And forcing me into his personal space will endear me to him?"
"There's nowhere else to put you. We're full."
Rhys reached for his keys, sliding one into the lock and opening the door. "Afternoon, Captain."
"Mmm," was the reply.
"Got something for you." Rhys gestured for Ianto to step forward, and he did so tentatively, lingering in the doorway to the cell.
It was tiny, dingy grey with chipped painted bricks, a small basin and mirror, a toilet behind a waist-height wooden screen and bunk beds. There was one small desk and one chair, and two shelves, one either side of the tiny, bar-covered window. The chair was currently occupied by a tall, muscular and very good-looking man in his early thirties, wearing the top half of his grey boiler suit slung down to his waist and revealing the white undershirt underneath.
He did not look impressed to see Ianto. He did not look impressed at all.
"Stick him with Owen," he said disdainfully. "I don't share."
"Owen's new friend is coming tomorrow. Now this is Ianto Jones, and he's in for six years."
"That's nice. Can't he sleep in the cantina for a week until Blackley gets out?"
"Harkness, you can't have a cell to yourself forever."
"I've managed the last two years."
"Yeah - and now we're in danger of overfilling. And while there's space in a cell, we're gonna use it. Now, Jones - go and pop your things on your bed and I'll lock you in."
Ianto stepped into the room and Rhys quickly slipped out and slammed the door shut, locking it and sliding down the cover for the peep-hole. "Cheeri-o boys! Play nice."
"When they unlock us later you can take your mattress into the corridor and sleep there."
"Why?"
"I don't share."
Ianto fell silent, fiddling with his cuffs, the atmosphere thick. He stared at the back of his cellmate's head. "Um ... wha ... what's your name?"
"Captain Harkness."
"Captain?"
"RAF."
"Oh ... so ... what are you in for?"
"What are you in for?"
Ianto sat gingerly on the bottom bunk, and Captain Harkness turned in his chair a little to give him an expectant look.
"I ... um ... well, she said it was stalking, but it wasn't. I just really needed the job!"
Harkness sniggered. "Stalking? You sad fuck."
"Hey! I needed the job, and my mam always said that if you want a job, you should persevere and show 'em you're eager."
"What exactly did you do?"
"Nothing, really," sighed Ianto. "I explained to her at the interview why I needed the job so much, and that she should give me the chance ... but she still turned me down. Even though I was fully qualified, and had experience and needed the job a helluva lot more. I was desperate."
"Why?"
"My ... my girlfriend. She got sick. Really sick. I couldn't afford to keep us both and look after her on my old income so I needed a new job and ... that was the one that would have ... everything would have been fine ...."
"So ... you were desperate ... and followed your employer home and went through her bins?"
"No! I ... waited for her at the end of the day and asked why I wasn't chosen. She wouldn't give me a straight answer and ... well ... I deserved one. So I waited for her the next day, and the next. The day after that I was arrested."
Harkness frowned. "Bullshit. That's bullshit. They wouldn't have even been given a warning for that - never mind six years. You're a little fucking liar."
"I'm serious," scowled Ianto darkly. "It's my fault. My own fucking fault. Should've known better than to think a living heart was beating inside Her Royal Fucking Hartman."
"Hartman? Yvonne Hartman? Torchwood?"
Ianto blinked, looking back up at the Captain. "Yeah."
The Captain turned away, getting up out of the chair and rummaging through a tin box on his shelf. "This her?" he asked, showing him a photograph. Ianto's insides plummeted just seeing her in ink.
He nodded mutely.
"Okay ... your story is a little more believable now," he said, putting the picture back in the box. "Hartman's the reason I'm in here, too."
"What didn't you do?"
The Captain gave a small laugh to Ianto's phrasing. "I used to run the Cardiff branch of the organisation. She didn't like the fact I was getting more successful that she was and had me done for fraud, embezzling and intent to cause grievous harm."
Ianto raised an eyebrow at the final charge.
"I bought her a venus flytrap with the note 'Finally - something living that you have things in common with!'."
Sniggering, Ianto finally felt himself relax, only to tense again when the Captain sat on the bed beside him.
"Don't tell anyone what I'm in for," he said, warning in his tone. "None of them know what I'm in for."
Ianto nodded.
The Captain seemed satisfied with that. "I won't tell anyone what you're in for, either," he decided. "If anyone asks, just say 'all sorts'. Gives you an air of mysterious malevolence."
Ianto smiled and nodded again.
"My name's Jack, by the way. But don't ever call me it."
"I'm Ianto. Why can't I call you 'Jack'?"
"I'm 'the Captain' outside this room."
"How mysteriously malevolent."
Jack sniggered. "'Ianto' ..." he tried the name in his mouth. "Hm. I could get used to it."
Ianto nodded. "So ... you don't mind if ... I ... stay in here?"
Jack laughed and clapped him on the back. "I never did, if I'm honest. The whole 'lonesome criminal' is just the image I like to project."
"Mysterious malevolence?"
"You got it."
"So ... really ... when it comes down to it ... everyone thinks your this mass-murdering, psychopathic hard-man, but in reality you're quite a decent bloke who isn't even a criminal?"
"That's the long and short of it."
"And no one else knows?"
"A couple of people do. I do. You do. Owen does, and so does Toshiko."
"Toshiko?"
"She's the prison counsellor. Anything you say to her is totally confidential, and she's the loveliest person I've ever met." He trailed off, glancing towards the bars on the window. He turned back to Ianto. "Let me see the photographs you brought."
Prisoners were only allowed to have five photographs, so Ianto had brought two in the hope his sister might send him some more as his niece and nephew grew up. He pulled them out of his carrier bag, and showed them to Jack.
"This your girlfriend?" Jack asked. "The one who's sick?"
"Yeah. That's Lisa," Ianto told him distantly.
"She's gorgeous. How did you pull her?"
"No idea. It took me nearly a year to figure out she was flirting."
Jack laughed. "How is she now?"
"She died just before the trial."
"Oh ... I ... I'm sorry."
"Yvonne Hartman will be," Ianto muttered darkly.
"Tell me about it," Jack murmured in reply. "Anyway - what are your other ones?"
"I only brought two. This is me with my sister and brother-in-law. It's an old picture, taken just after my niece was born. And that boy there is my nephew."
"Who's the handsome lad with his arm around you?" Jack asked, amused.
"Oh ... that ... that was ... my ... friend," Ianto stumbled out, trying to grab the picture that.
"You're boyfriend?" smirked Jack, holding it out of his reach.
Ianto glared at him. "Yeah."
"Bisexual?"
"Yeah. Problem?"
"Not at all." smiled Jack. "Here ...." He reached up to his tin box and produced his own photographs. "This is me and John."
Ianto stared down at the picture. "You're ... gay?"
"Yep."
"Do the others know?"
"Owen and Tosh do. As proud as I am of myself, I'd rather make it through prison than come out here. There's more of them than there are of me, y'know?"
Ianto shuddered. "I won't tell."
"I know you won't." Jack said softly, putting the photo back in the box.
"So ... how long have you and John been together?"
"We were together five years. But ... we broke up when I wound up in here. He ... won't talk to me."
"Oh."
Jack sighed, then got up. They both jumped as a siren sounded through the building, blaring loudly. A cheer went up throughout the wing, and Ianto stared up at Jack in confusion.
"Break out!" Jack grinned, craning to look out of the window.
"Someone's tryna escape?"
"Yep! Damn them for having us all locked in! We could've gone to the courtyard for a better look!"
There was the sound of dogs barking through the din of the sirens, then suddenly everything went quiet.
"They caught him," Jack told him quietly. "Ah well."
He sat on the bed next to Ianto again, leaning back until he was propped on his elbows. "Don't ever try and escape, Ianto," he advised. "Just serve out your time. Escaping isn't worth it."
~*~*~*~
After the escape attempt, the guards weren't going to let the prisoners out of their cells even for meals. They brought up the cooling dishes of brittle sausages and lumpy mash for them, and Jack and Ianto ate in silence.
"This is disgusting," Ianto said after they'd emptied their plates. "A child could have done better."
Jack gave a small laugh, then they both shivered.
"Is there no central heating in this place?" grumbled Ianto.
"Yeah - but they only seem to put it on in summer. Too hot in summer, too cold in winter."
Ianto shivered again, and glanced over at his thin blanket. "It's gonna be freezing."
"I hate winter nights."
"Me too."
~*~
Later, as they were getting ready for bed, Ianto was switching his pillows from one side of the bottom bunk to the other.
"Woah, woah, woah!" Jack exclaimed. "What are you doing?"
"I ... prefer the wall to be on my other side?"
"Always sleep with your feet towards the door. That way when they walk past an throw boiling water over you, it's the sheets and your feet that get scalded, not your head."
"Boiling ... they do that?"
"Yep."
"Fuck."
He hurriedly started putting his pillows back. "Anything else I should know?"
"If you're gonna cry, do it on my shoulder, not when I'm tryna sleep."
Ianto bit his lip and looked away. "I'm not gonna cry."
"Everyone cries on their first night."
Ianto slid under his thin bed sheet. "Ugh. Itchy."
Jack gave a small laugh, hauling himself up onto his bunk. "You get used to it. Sorta."
Ianto listened to him moving around on his bed, then turned over onto his side, closing his eyes.
~*~
Ianto woke when something soft hit his face at speed.
"Oi! I said not when I'm sleeping!" Jack's irritated voice said from above him.
"Hmumfwhat?" he mumbled.
"The crying."
"I wasn't crying," replied Ianto, then realised how thick his voice and damp his face and pillowcase was. "... oh ... oh ... sorry ...." he sniffed, then shivered. "Fuck me, it's cold," he said, wiping his eyes and trying to control his breathing.
"Never get convicted in winter. You don't get time to acclimatise," advised Jack, and Ianto gave a weak laugh.
"I'll bear that in mind," he sighed. "Jack?"
"Hm?"
"Do you think ... if I'm good ... I'll get out sooner?"
"Mebbee. Fuck the guards and see how far you get. Personally, I think Gwen will be your best bet. Very ... empathetic."
"I don't think I'd want to whore myself out just to get out of here," frowned Ianto.
"Consider it again in two weeks time. Besides, Gwen's the best of a bad bunch - and she sneaks me sugary stuff."
"Who else is there?"
"There's Suzie, but she'll only suck your cock if she sees the benefit; Alice, who would bite your cock off rather than suck it; Emily, who'd have your cock for an ornament on her mantle piece; and Andy, who wouldn't know what to do with a cock if it came with a colour-illustrated instruction manual and a how-to DVD."
"Have you been practicing saying that?"
"Maybe a little bit."
Ianto and Jack laughed a little, before the Captain leant down over his bunk to look at him. "Don't ever, ever pretend the guards are your friends. They like to think they are, but they're not. It's us and them, and if they see writing you up for nothing as being beneficial to their own ends, they'll do it and call the other guards as witnesses. We gotta stick together - don't let them ask you for anything, and don't ask them for anything. You don't owe them nothing now, so try and keep it that way."
Nodding, Ianto smiled at him. "You were practicing that one, too."
Jack smiled back. "Need to make sure you learn everything ... - But seriously, Ianto. Remember what I said if you wanna get through your time here."
"I will," Ianto assured him. "Um ... Jack?"
"Yeah?"
"What if ... what if the other kids pick on me?" he asked, and Jack stifled a laugh, climbing down from his bunk.
"They'll make your life hell if you let them," he said, his tone serious. "Be strong - don't let them see you cry, no matter what they do."
"What might they do? Aside from the ... from the boiling water? Were you serious about that, by the way?"
"Deadly serious. Wait 'til you see Max's face."
Ianto bit his lip, sitting up cross-legged as Jack mirrored him at the foot of his bed. "What happened?"
"He got here about ... a year ago? Tried to be top dog, only the top dog then didn't like it and decided to assert his authority with a little more force than, in hindsight, was probably necessary. After that the trend caught on - all the newbies got boiling water."
"Who was the top dog then?"
"Heist mastermind called Charles. Dead now."
"Who's in charge now?"
"There's a bit of a rivalry."
"Between?"
"Me and Adam - and it'll be Adam who'll be first here in the morning, I bet you my biscuit ration."
"I don't wanna get into debt on my first night," joked Ianto. "So ... what if he ... I mean ... I'm a lover not a fighter. What the hell am I supposed to do to defend myself? I've literally no idea how to fight."
"Strike up a protection deal with a bigger guy. If anyone touches you, he'll fuck them up."
"Protection deal?"
"You do something he wants, he'll keep his eye on you. Simple."
"Right ... so ... who would you suggest?"
"You planning on interviewing them or something?" asked Jack, amused. "I'm a bigger guy, Ianto. And I've got lots of bigger guys under my thumb. I say the word, they'll be keeping their eye on you as well."
"Oh! So ... so you want a ... deal ... thing? Erm ... I have literally nothing to give you," Ianto told him, blank.
Jack shrugged. "I'll think of something."
He started getting up, and Ianto stretched his legs out under the blanked again, and shivered, remembering how cold it was. He pulled the blanket up to his chin as he lay down, feeling the bunks shake as Jack climbed back into his own bed.
"Fuck me, it's cold," Ianto sighed sleepily for the millionth time that night.
They fell silent, each of them willing sleep to come, both of them eventually shivering until the bunks shook.
"That's it!" Jack growled, swinging his legs over the side of the bunk. "OI!" he yelled to the door, walking right up to it. "Night guard! NIGHT GUARD! ANDY!" He banged noisily on the metal door. "It's fucking COLD!"
Ianto sat up in bed, watching as Jack began kicking the metal door as hard as he could. Listening, Ianto could hear others joining in, yelling for the night guard, shouting about the cold and hammering and kicking on their doors.
Suddenly, all the lights in the wing switched on, making them both squint dazedly in the sudden brightness. The prisoners all fell silent, and Ianto could hear footsteps outside, then the jangle of keys. The slot in the door dropped open, and Ianto could just about spot a dark-skinned figure on the other side.
"HARKNESS! What the hell going on?"
"Who are you? Where's Davidson?"
"Davidson switched shifts. I'm Officer Smith."
"Whatever. It's fucking cold. Turn the heating up."
"I'm afraid, inmate, we're on an electricity quota."
Ianto frowned. "But ... boilers for central heating run on gas, don't they?"
Jack turned to him and flashed him a proud grin. "Yeah," he said, turning back to Officer Smith. "Boilers run on gas."
"Are you two threatening me?"
Ianto blinked.
"Fuck you!" growled Jack.
"You are threatening me. Looks like I'm going to have to write you up. Both of you."
"I didn't do anything!" Ianto huffed.
"You gave me lip. And when he threatened me, you supported him."
Ianto couldn't see him through the slot in the door he was speaking through, so assumed he couldn't see him either. He flicked the V's at the door, and Jack sniggered.
"I'll have to talk to the super. I think two days isolation will do you both some good."
"Woah - easy on the kid. His first night."
"Best he learns sooner rather than later," replied Officer Smith, before sliding up the cover of the slot with a clang and marching off. Ianto jumped when there was a knock on the wall beside him, and he gave Jack a questioning look.
"Knock back once for 'no'," sighed Jack. "Sorry I got you in trouble," he added.
"What did he mean by isolation?"
"Tiny room with a tiny window, all on your lonesome for hours on end. No contact - not even with guards."
"For two days?"
"He didn't mean it. The super's not too bad. He won't let 'im just dish out isolation like that. We'll probably just be locked in here for tomorrow."
"At least I won't get boiling water thrown on me," shrugged Ianto.
"I do like optimism," smiled Jack before hesitating. "I just thought ... it's fucking cold."
"No shit, Sherlock."
"Precisely, Doctor Watson," smirked Jack. "Tell you what: I'll keep the other kids off your back. You keep me warm. Deal?"
Ianto had heard of worse things. The Captain was hot, and he was cold. He didn't even have to think.
"Deal."
He started to get out of bed, but Jack stopped him. "Woah - in your bunk. I don't much fancy one of us falling off mine."
Jack climbed into the bunk, utching him over until he was lying on his side.
"Can I be on the other side?" Ianto asked, not liking being sandwiched between the Captain and the wall.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I need to be in between the door and you."
"What if the others see us?" asked Ianto, turning to face him and trying not to concentrate on how close his lips were.
"If I tell them not to, they won't. Can I hold you?"
"Yeah - but no heavy petting."
Jack gave a small laugh and kissed his temple, pulling him even closer and urging him to lean his head into the crook of his neck. Ianto snaked tentative arms around him, and even dared to snuggle, relishing in the warmth of the Captain's body. He yawned sleepily, and Captain smiled to himself.
"You're a little bit adorable, you know that? You have to be careful being adorable, though, 'cause all the other boys will want you."
He didn't get a reply, so glanced down to find that Ianto was already sleeping peacefully, snuffling a little into his chest. Jack felt the smile fade from his lips.
"They can want you, but they can't have you," he whispered. "'cause I want you all to myself."
This idea came to me while re-reading 'The Ballad of Reading Gaol' by Oscar Wilde, who is one of my favourite writers EVAR. It's not exactly related ... in fact, it was just the whole jail thing that set it off.
Anyways ... here's my third 'pilot' .....
This. Was. Not. Fair.
Ianto followed the guard quietly, hugging his bag of things to himself. The place was noisy, with its long, stretching, bleach-stenched, tile-covered corridors amplifying the smallest of sounds. The colour scheme was bland, and eventually the whites started giving way to flat, dull greys designed to make anyone who looked on them feel gloomy and subdued.
That's why prisons are grey, Ianto reminded himself. To make you feel like shit.
There were bars on every door, and any door that had a glass window in it was reinforced by mesh. Each door scraped and clanged ominously as he was lead through them, until eventually he and the guard emerged into an empty, cavernous room filled with tables and benches, one solitary prisoner in the standard grey boiler suit mopping in the corner. Metal stairs lead up to the four stories above, where the cells lined the walls and all walkways looked down into the canteen.
Ianto stood and stared up at the ceiling, wondering what bitterly cruel person had decided that skylights covered with bars would be a good idea for a prison. Ianto stared up at the little tent of bright blue revealed above him, before he was brought back down to earth by the guard clearing his throat.
"Sorry, officer ...." he mumbled, following behind again, heading towards the stairs.
"We had a bit of a riot yesterday, so all the prisoners are locked in their cells," the guard explained. "And don't call me 'officer', call me Rhys."
"Yes, sir. I mean ... off ... I mean ... Rhys?"
Rhys gave a small laugh as they began to climb up the stairs. "So what you in for, Jones?"
"Oh ... um ... it's complicated."
"Well, get your story straight for your housemates, 'cause they're gonna wanna know."
Ianto felt himself blush. "Oh ... right ...."
Rhys caught the pink in his cheeks. "Something not too impressive?" he guessed.
"Not really - and on top of that I didn't even do it." he muttered bitterly.
"Oh? Did you not?"
"No."
"You should have told someone."
"Oh ha ha."
"'Nuff of the sarcasm."
"Sorry, sir."
"Rhys."
"Rhys."
Rhys was panting with the exertion of getting all the way up the stairs, and Ianto wasn't faring too much better. They got to the top, and Ianto took a moment to peer over the edge of the walkway lining the walls down into the empty cantina.
"You're not thinking of jumping, are ya?" asked Rhys, putting a firm hand on his shoulder.
"No ... just ... acquainting myself with the view," Ianto sighed.
"How long you in for?"
"Six years."
"What was it you didn't do again?"
"Just ... stuff."
Rhys shrugged. "Ah!" he exclaimed by one of the doors. "This is you. Just a warning: your cellmate isn't very well acquainted with the idea of 'sharing', and if we could put you somewhere else we would, if only to save the trouble for ourselves when he kicks up the fuss. Just ... watch yourself, okay?"
Ianto stared at him wide-eyed. "What's he in for?"
"All sorts," shrugged Rhys. "Though he's only got six years left, too. You could be freedom buddies!"
Ianto blinked. "But ... I'm only for petty crime! You can't ... I don't wanna ...."
"Listen, Jones. You're a tiny weed of a pretty boy. Without someone like him on your side you might note even survive your first month. Seriously: I'm doing you a favour."
"And forcing me into his personal space will endear me to him?"
"There's nowhere else to put you. We're full."
Rhys reached for his keys, sliding one into the lock and opening the door. "Afternoon, Captain."
"Mmm," was the reply.
"Got something for you." Rhys gestured for Ianto to step forward, and he did so tentatively, lingering in the doorway to the cell.
It was tiny, dingy grey with chipped painted bricks, a small basin and mirror, a toilet behind a waist-height wooden screen and bunk beds. There was one small desk and one chair, and two shelves, one either side of the tiny, bar-covered window. The chair was currently occupied by a tall, muscular and very good-looking man in his early thirties, wearing the top half of his grey boiler suit slung down to his waist and revealing the white undershirt underneath.
He did not look impressed to see Ianto. He did not look impressed at all.
"Stick him with Owen," he said disdainfully. "I don't share."
"Owen's new friend is coming tomorrow. Now this is Ianto Jones, and he's in for six years."
"That's nice. Can't he sleep in the cantina for a week until Blackley gets out?"
"Harkness, you can't have a cell to yourself forever."
"I've managed the last two years."
"Yeah - and now we're in danger of overfilling. And while there's space in a cell, we're gonna use it. Now, Jones - go and pop your things on your bed and I'll lock you in."
Ianto stepped into the room and Rhys quickly slipped out and slammed the door shut, locking it and sliding down the cover for the peep-hole. "Cheeri-o boys! Play nice."
"When they unlock us later you can take your mattress into the corridor and sleep there."
"Why?"
"I don't share."
Ianto fell silent, fiddling with his cuffs, the atmosphere thick. He stared at the back of his cellmate's head. "Um ... wha ... what's your name?"
"Captain Harkness."
"Captain?"
"RAF."
"Oh ... so ... what are you in for?"
"What are you in for?"
Ianto sat gingerly on the bottom bunk, and Captain Harkness turned in his chair a little to give him an expectant look.
"I ... um ... well, she said it was stalking, but it wasn't. I just really needed the job!"
Harkness sniggered. "Stalking? You sad fuck."
"Hey! I needed the job, and my mam always said that if you want a job, you should persevere and show 'em you're eager."
"What exactly did you do?"
"Nothing, really," sighed Ianto. "I explained to her at the interview why I needed the job so much, and that she should give me the chance ... but she still turned me down. Even though I was fully qualified, and had experience and needed the job a helluva lot more. I was desperate."
"Why?"
"My ... my girlfriend. She got sick. Really sick. I couldn't afford to keep us both and look after her on my old income so I needed a new job and ... that was the one that would have ... everything would have been fine ...."
"So ... you were desperate ... and followed your employer home and went through her bins?"
"No! I ... waited for her at the end of the day and asked why I wasn't chosen. She wouldn't give me a straight answer and ... well ... I deserved one. So I waited for her the next day, and the next. The day after that I was arrested."
Harkness frowned. "Bullshit. That's bullshit. They wouldn't have even been given a warning for that - never mind six years. You're a little fucking liar."
"I'm serious," scowled Ianto darkly. "It's my fault. My own fucking fault. Should've known better than to think a living heart was beating inside Her Royal Fucking Hartman."
"Hartman? Yvonne Hartman? Torchwood?"
Ianto blinked, looking back up at the Captain. "Yeah."
The Captain turned away, getting up out of the chair and rummaging through a tin box on his shelf. "This her?" he asked, showing him a photograph. Ianto's insides plummeted just seeing her in ink.
He nodded mutely.
"Okay ... your story is a little more believable now," he said, putting the picture back in the box. "Hartman's the reason I'm in here, too."
"What didn't you do?"
The Captain gave a small laugh to Ianto's phrasing. "I used to run the Cardiff branch of the organisation. She didn't like the fact I was getting more successful that she was and had me done for fraud, embezzling and intent to cause grievous harm."
Ianto raised an eyebrow at the final charge.
"I bought her a venus flytrap with the note 'Finally - something living that you have things in common with!'."
Sniggering, Ianto finally felt himself relax, only to tense again when the Captain sat on the bed beside him.
"Don't tell anyone what I'm in for," he said, warning in his tone. "None of them know what I'm in for."
Ianto nodded.
The Captain seemed satisfied with that. "I won't tell anyone what you're in for, either," he decided. "If anyone asks, just say 'all sorts'. Gives you an air of mysterious malevolence."
Ianto smiled and nodded again.
"My name's Jack, by the way. But don't ever call me it."
"I'm Ianto. Why can't I call you 'Jack'?"
"I'm 'the Captain' outside this room."
"How mysteriously malevolent."
Jack sniggered. "'Ianto' ..." he tried the name in his mouth. "Hm. I could get used to it."
Ianto nodded. "So ... you don't mind if ... I ... stay in here?"
Jack laughed and clapped him on the back. "I never did, if I'm honest. The whole 'lonesome criminal' is just the image I like to project."
"Mysterious malevolence?"
"You got it."
"So ... really ... when it comes down to it ... everyone thinks your this mass-murdering, psychopathic hard-man, but in reality you're quite a decent bloke who isn't even a criminal?"
"That's the long and short of it."
"And no one else knows?"
"A couple of people do. I do. You do. Owen does, and so does Toshiko."
"Toshiko?"
"She's the prison counsellor. Anything you say to her is totally confidential, and she's the loveliest person I've ever met." He trailed off, glancing towards the bars on the window. He turned back to Ianto. "Let me see the photographs you brought."
Prisoners were only allowed to have five photographs, so Ianto had brought two in the hope his sister might send him some more as his niece and nephew grew up. He pulled them out of his carrier bag, and showed them to Jack.
"This your girlfriend?" Jack asked. "The one who's sick?"
"Yeah. That's Lisa," Ianto told him distantly.
"She's gorgeous. How did you pull her?"
"No idea. It took me nearly a year to figure out she was flirting."
Jack laughed. "How is she now?"
"She died just before the trial."
"Oh ... I ... I'm sorry."
"Yvonne Hartman will be," Ianto muttered darkly.
"Tell me about it," Jack murmured in reply. "Anyway - what are your other ones?"
"I only brought two. This is me with my sister and brother-in-law. It's an old picture, taken just after my niece was born. And that boy there is my nephew."
"Who's the handsome lad with his arm around you?" Jack asked, amused.
"Oh ... that ... that was ... my ... friend," Ianto stumbled out, trying to grab the picture that.
"You're boyfriend?" smirked Jack, holding it out of his reach.
Ianto glared at him. "Yeah."
"Bisexual?"
"Yeah. Problem?"
"Not at all." smiled Jack. "Here ...." He reached up to his tin box and produced his own photographs. "This is me and John."
Ianto stared down at the picture. "You're ... gay?"
"Yep."
"Do the others know?"
"Owen and Tosh do. As proud as I am of myself, I'd rather make it through prison than come out here. There's more of them than there are of me, y'know?"
Ianto shuddered. "I won't tell."
"I know you won't." Jack said softly, putting the photo back in the box.
"So ... how long have you and John been together?"
"We were together five years. But ... we broke up when I wound up in here. He ... won't talk to me."
"Oh."
Jack sighed, then got up. They both jumped as a siren sounded through the building, blaring loudly. A cheer went up throughout the wing, and Ianto stared up at Jack in confusion.
"Break out!" Jack grinned, craning to look out of the window.
"Someone's tryna escape?"
"Yep! Damn them for having us all locked in! We could've gone to the courtyard for a better look!"
There was the sound of dogs barking through the din of the sirens, then suddenly everything went quiet.
"They caught him," Jack told him quietly. "Ah well."
He sat on the bed next to Ianto again, leaning back until he was propped on his elbows. "Don't ever try and escape, Ianto," he advised. "Just serve out your time. Escaping isn't worth it."
~*~*~*~
After the escape attempt, the guards weren't going to let the prisoners out of their cells even for meals. They brought up the cooling dishes of brittle sausages and lumpy mash for them, and Jack and Ianto ate in silence.
"This is disgusting," Ianto said after they'd emptied their plates. "A child could have done better."
Jack gave a small laugh, then they both shivered.
"Is there no central heating in this place?" grumbled Ianto.
"Yeah - but they only seem to put it on in summer. Too hot in summer, too cold in winter."
Ianto shivered again, and glanced over at his thin blanket. "It's gonna be freezing."
"I hate winter nights."
"Me too."
~*~
Later, as they were getting ready for bed, Ianto was switching his pillows from one side of the bottom bunk to the other.
"Woah, woah, woah!" Jack exclaimed. "What are you doing?"
"I ... prefer the wall to be on my other side?"
"Always sleep with your feet towards the door. That way when they walk past an throw boiling water over you, it's the sheets and your feet that get scalded, not your head."
"Boiling ... they do that?"
"Yep."
"Fuck."
He hurriedly started putting his pillows back. "Anything else I should know?"
"If you're gonna cry, do it on my shoulder, not when I'm tryna sleep."
Ianto bit his lip and looked away. "I'm not gonna cry."
"Everyone cries on their first night."
Ianto slid under his thin bed sheet. "Ugh. Itchy."
Jack gave a small laugh, hauling himself up onto his bunk. "You get used to it. Sorta."
Ianto listened to him moving around on his bed, then turned over onto his side, closing his eyes.
~*~
Ianto woke when something soft hit his face at speed.
"Oi! I said not when I'm sleeping!" Jack's irritated voice said from above him.
"Hmumfwhat?" he mumbled.
"The crying."
"I wasn't crying," replied Ianto, then realised how thick his voice and damp his face and pillowcase was. "... oh ... oh ... sorry ...." he sniffed, then shivered. "Fuck me, it's cold," he said, wiping his eyes and trying to control his breathing.
"Never get convicted in winter. You don't get time to acclimatise," advised Jack, and Ianto gave a weak laugh.
"I'll bear that in mind," he sighed. "Jack?"
"Hm?"
"Do you think ... if I'm good ... I'll get out sooner?"
"Mebbee. Fuck the guards and see how far you get. Personally, I think Gwen will be your best bet. Very ... empathetic."
"I don't think I'd want to whore myself out just to get out of here," frowned Ianto.
"Consider it again in two weeks time. Besides, Gwen's the best of a bad bunch - and she sneaks me sugary stuff."
"Who else is there?"
"There's Suzie, but she'll only suck your cock if she sees the benefit; Alice, who would bite your cock off rather than suck it; Emily, who'd have your cock for an ornament on her mantle piece; and Andy, who wouldn't know what to do with a cock if it came with a colour-illustrated instruction manual and a how-to DVD."
"Have you been practicing saying that?"
"Maybe a little bit."
Ianto and Jack laughed a little, before the Captain leant down over his bunk to look at him. "Don't ever, ever pretend the guards are your friends. They like to think they are, but they're not. It's us and them, and if they see writing you up for nothing as being beneficial to their own ends, they'll do it and call the other guards as witnesses. We gotta stick together - don't let them ask you for anything, and don't ask them for anything. You don't owe them nothing now, so try and keep it that way."
Nodding, Ianto smiled at him. "You were practicing that one, too."
Jack smiled back. "Need to make sure you learn everything ... - But seriously, Ianto. Remember what I said if you wanna get through your time here."
"I will," Ianto assured him. "Um ... Jack?"
"Yeah?"
"What if ... what if the other kids pick on me?" he asked, and Jack stifled a laugh, climbing down from his bunk.
"They'll make your life hell if you let them," he said, his tone serious. "Be strong - don't let them see you cry, no matter what they do."
"What might they do? Aside from the ... from the boiling water? Were you serious about that, by the way?"
"Deadly serious. Wait 'til you see Max's face."
Ianto bit his lip, sitting up cross-legged as Jack mirrored him at the foot of his bed. "What happened?"
"He got here about ... a year ago? Tried to be top dog, only the top dog then didn't like it and decided to assert his authority with a little more force than, in hindsight, was probably necessary. After that the trend caught on - all the newbies got boiling water."
"Who was the top dog then?"
"Heist mastermind called Charles. Dead now."
"Who's in charge now?"
"There's a bit of a rivalry."
"Between?"
"Me and Adam - and it'll be Adam who'll be first here in the morning, I bet you my biscuit ration."
"I don't wanna get into debt on my first night," joked Ianto. "So ... what if he ... I mean ... I'm a lover not a fighter. What the hell am I supposed to do to defend myself? I've literally no idea how to fight."
"Strike up a protection deal with a bigger guy. If anyone touches you, he'll fuck them up."
"Protection deal?"
"You do something he wants, he'll keep his eye on you. Simple."
"Right ... so ... who would you suggest?"
"You planning on interviewing them or something?" asked Jack, amused. "I'm a bigger guy, Ianto. And I've got lots of bigger guys under my thumb. I say the word, they'll be keeping their eye on you as well."
"Oh! So ... so you want a ... deal ... thing? Erm ... I have literally nothing to give you," Ianto told him, blank.
Jack shrugged. "I'll think of something."
He started getting up, and Ianto stretched his legs out under the blanked again, and shivered, remembering how cold it was. He pulled the blanket up to his chin as he lay down, feeling the bunks shake as Jack climbed back into his own bed.
"Fuck me, it's cold," Ianto sighed sleepily for the millionth time that night.
They fell silent, each of them willing sleep to come, both of them eventually shivering until the bunks shook.
"That's it!" Jack growled, swinging his legs over the side of the bunk. "OI!" he yelled to the door, walking right up to it. "Night guard! NIGHT GUARD! ANDY!" He banged noisily on the metal door. "It's fucking COLD!"
Ianto sat up in bed, watching as Jack began kicking the metal door as hard as he could. Listening, Ianto could hear others joining in, yelling for the night guard, shouting about the cold and hammering and kicking on their doors.
Suddenly, all the lights in the wing switched on, making them both squint dazedly in the sudden brightness. The prisoners all fell silent, and Ianto could hear footsteps outside, then the jangle of keys. The slot in the door dropped open, and Ianto could just about spot a dark-skinned figure on the other side.
"HARKNESS! What the hell going on?"
"Who are you? Where's Davidson?"
"Davidson switched shifts. I'm Officer Smith."
"Whatever. It's fucking cold. Turn the heating up."
"I'm afraid, inmate, we're on an electricity quota."
Ianto frowned. "But ... boilers for central heating run on gas, don't they?"
Jack turned to him and flashed him a proud grin. "Yeah," he said, turning back to Officer Smith. "Boilers run on gas."
"Are you two threatening me?"
Ianto blinked.
"Fuck you!" growled Jack.
"You are threatening me. Looks like I'm going to have to write you up. Both of you."
"I didn't do anything!" Ianto huffed.
"You gave me lip. And when he threatened me, you supported him."
Ianto couldn't see him through the slot in the door he was speaking through, so assumed he couldn't see him either. He flicked the V's at the door, and Jack sniggered.
"I'll have to talk to the super. I think two days isolation will do you both some good."
"Woah - easy on the kid. His first night."
"Best he learns sooner rather than later," replied Officer Smith, before sliding up the cover of the slot with a clang and marching off. Ianto jumped when there was a knock on the wall beside him, and he gave Jack a questioning look.
"Knock back once for 'no'," sighed Jack. "Sorry I got you in trouble," he added.
"What did he mean by isolation?"
"Tiny room with a tiny window, all on your lonesome for hours on end. No contact - not even with guards."
"For two days?"
"He didn't mean it. The super's not too bad. He won't let 'im just dish out isolation like that. We'll probably just be locked in here for tomorrow."
"At least I won't get boiling water thrown on me," shrugged Ianto.
"I do like optimism," smiled Jack before hesitating. "I just thought ... it's fucking cold."
"No shit, Sherlock."
"Precisely, Doctor Watson," smirked Jack. "Tell you what: I'll keep the other kids off your back. You keep me warm. Deal?"
Ianto had heard of worse things. The Captain was hot, and he was cold. He didn't even have to think.
"Deal."
He started to get out of bed, but Jack stopped him. "Woah - in your bunk. I don't much fancy one of us falling off mine."
Jack climbed into the bunk, utching him over until he was lying on his side.
"Can I be on the other side?" Ianto asked, not liking being sandwiched between the Captain and the wall.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I need to be in between the door and you."
"What if the others see us?" asked Ianto, turning to face him and trying not to concentrate on how close his lips were.
"If I tell them not to, they won't. Can I hold you?"
"Yeah - but no heavy petting."
Jack gave a small laugh and kissed his temple, pulling him even closer and urging him to lean his head into the crook of his neck. Ianto snaked tentative arms around him, and even dared to snuggle, relishing in the warmth of the Captain's body. He yawned sleepily, and Captain smiled to himself.
"You're a little bit adorable, you know that? You have to be careful being adorable, though, 'cause all the other boys will want you."
He didn't get a reply, so glanced down to find that Ianto was already sleeping peacefully, snuffling a little into his chest. Jack felt the smile fade from his lips.
"They can want you, but they can't have you," he whispered. "'cause I want you all to myself."