Once Upon A Time …
Day Seven: 20 December 2008
"This traffic's bloody awful!" complained Gwen as the car was brought to a standstill again.
"Last Saturday before Christmas, love. What d'you expect?" Rhys was in a good mood. It was the weekend and he loved the razzmatazz that was Cardiff at this time of year. He had been here two weeks earlier to see the lights switched on by some minor TV soap star and had found an excuse to wander round at least once a day since, looking at the window displays and festive goodies.
"A bit more restraint. Don't these people know there's a recession." Gwen usually liked Christmas too but today she was off to see her parents in Swansea and that always put her in a bad mood.
"'Cos they do. That's why they're spending. Might as well before the bloody banks get it. Look, I'll get out and walk from here." He unfastened his seatbelt and leaned across, giving her a peck on her cheek. "Give my love to your mam and dad."
"Oh God, I'd rather be out in that lot," she groaned, nodding to the crowds on the pavement, "than seeing them."
"Sorry, not swapping."
With a cheeky grin he opened the door and was gone, swallowed up by the mass of people in just a few seconds. Gwen tapped the steering wheel irritably, dreading a day spent fending off her mother's less than subtle questions about when she and Rhys would be starting a family.
Rhys was still grinning two hours later. He had got most of the presents. Since Gwen had been working for Torchwood it had fallen to him to do the present buying although Gwen gave him a list, one that included suggestions for herself: the handbag and sexy knickers were in one of the carrier bags he was holding. Deciding on chocolates for Ruth at the office – not that she needed to eat any more but she had worked hard – he was concentrating on getting across the flow of people when he was buffeted by a couple of men and carried along, almost off his feet.
"Oy, careful!" he cried, to no avail.
His hands were full of bags and he could only try and stay on his feet. He was pushed and jostled, along with a few others, and propelled three or four metres before a particularly nasty jab in the ribs got him off-balance causing him to trip over something on the ground and go flying. Determined to keep hold of his purchases he could not use his hands to cushion his fall and his head met the ground with a thud. He saw stars before blacking out.
In the Torchwood Hub Jack was standing at the glass wall of his office looking out towards the lower level. He was lost in a happy daydream as he stared at the twin bottoms swaying in unison. Both were pert and clad in tight trousers and he wasn't sure which was the more arousing: that belonging to Ianto or Cendrillon. The pair were on their hands and knees scrubbing at the worst marks on the floor left by the contractors. They were working side by side and the bottoms were moving rhythmically as they scrubbed.
Ianto, well aware of the effect he and Cendrillon were having on Jack, was smiling to himself. He planned to tease the man as much as possible, to make him beg to sedate Princess Talia again. Jack had refused the night before and the two men had not been able to spend any time together.
"Ianto? What do you think?" Cendrillon stopped scrubbing for a moment and looked at the man beside her. She still thought of him as Buttons but now called him by the name he preferred in the same way that she called her Fairy Godmother, Gwen.
"Sorry, what was that?"
"Do you think someone as important as Andy could really be interested in me?" The girl sighed then went back to scrubbing at some dried plaster. The double date the night before had been a success and the highlight of the last few days for her.
"I don't know." Ianto thought it wise to steer clear of any definite answer. This girl was a princess though she didn't know it and, according to Jack, not always the most reliable source admittedly, her prince would be coming to claim her anytime. "But you might as well enjoy it while you can."
Jack's daydream was interrupted by his mobile. He listened for a moment and then let out a bellow of laughter that rang around the Hub. After a few words, he grabbed his greatcoat and prepared to leave.
Ianto, surprised by the laughter, had turned to look back at the office. "What's happened?" he asked.
"Got to spring Rhys from gaol," he shouted back, still laughing. With a wave he was gone, leaving a confused Ianto behind.
The holding cell smelled of disinfectant and unwashed bodies. Rhys was huddled against the wall, keeping as far away from the eight other men in there with him as he could. He viewed them warily, all too aware of the terrible things they could do to him from years of watching bad TV programmes and Gwen's tales of policing. His gaze fell on the three men in the corner, sitting together looking nonchalant, and a wave of hatred washed over his usually easygoing self. It was because of them that he was in this mess.
"Well, well, well. What have we here?" Jack's American drawl was unmistakable.
"Jack, get me out of here." Rhys was on his feet and at the bars in moments, only just remembering to grab at his jeans to stop them falling down: It had been the final indignity for his belt to be removed.
"Ohhh, I'm not sure I should. I hear you've been involved in muggings. Don't Harwoods pay you enough, Rhys?" Jack was enjoying himself, delighting to be the one Rhys had had to call to get him out of his predicament.
"All right, have your fun, I don't care. You know it's not true. Just get me out of this fucking place."
"Here, less of that," warned the custody sergeant who had accompanied Jack. It had been Rhys' bad luck to be brought to a station where Gwen – and therefore he - was unknown. "He came in with those three." He pointed to the men in the corner. "They've been working the main shopping streets for the last few days."
Jack looked at them, a casual glance that became more intense. "What names did they give you?"
"You're right there," laughed the sergeant ruefully. "Not their real ones, that's for sure. John Little, Will Scarlet and Much Miller! Hah, stupid sods."
"Look, sergeant, I have nothing to do with them. I've never seen them before in my life!" pleaded Rhys.
"But I have." Jack was serious. "I'll take them too."
The SUV was full as Jack drove away. The three muggers, handcuffed, were wedged uncomfortably in the backseat while Rhys was in the front surrounded by the carrier bags containing his purchases. He willingly helped Jack get the men down the stairs into the Hub – he was enjoying seeing them less confident now - before sinking onto the sofa in relief.
"Who are they?" asked Ianto, eyeing the new prisoners.
"Meet Will, Much and John," beamed Jack, "three of the Merry Men of Sherwood Prime. Intergalactic outlaws. If the price on their heads is the same as I remember, we'll be rich!"