5
Ianto, dressed casually in weekend attire, is at the stove preparing an omelette. Lisa hurries into the kitchen in her nurse's uniform. She gulps down a cup of coffee and reaches for her nurse's cap.
However, she still has time to adjust the position of a pack of "FiberCon Cereal" - squaring it a little more to camera.
"I have to talk with you." Ianto says looking about, suspicious "But not here. Let's go for a walk."
Kissing him on the cheek, Lisa apologizes "I'm sorry, I'm late."
"What's the hurry?"
"Surgery. The elevator disaster downtown on the news last night. Cable snapped, a car dropped ten floors. Non-union contractors. Monsters. We're starting with an amputation."
Ianto's eyes widen.
Lisa adjusts her hat in the mirror. "That building's near yours. Imagine if you'd been in there for some reason. It doesn't bear thinking about."
Ianto, lost in thought, picks up the scalding frying pan with his bare hand. Letting out a howl of pain, he drops the pan. "Arrah!"
"Oh, my God!"
"What do I do?"
"I don't know…"
"you're a nurse, aren't you?" Ianto asks with surprise.
"Put some butter on it-or ice?" She looks up the kitchen clock. Then cries as she is hurrying out the door "Oh, look at the time."
Ianto stares after her, the pain of his hand forgotten for the moment. He watches Lisa ride her bicycle down the driveway. Ianto exits the house.
Riding a bicycle of his own, Ianto follows Lisa to work, staying a safe distance back. He watches her enter the hospital.
Ianto makes his way along various corridors. All seems as it should - Doctors confer with Nursing Staff and Patients, gurneys are wheeled about with their Passengers looking suitably traumatized. Ianto approaches a Nursing Sister. "I'm looking for my wife-Nurse Jones. It's important."
Checking her clipboard she replies "I'm afraid that's impossible… she's in pre-op."
Ianto smiles "Sure. Okay. Fine. Can you pass on a message?"
"I'll try."
"Tell her, tell her...I had to go to Fiji." Ianto calmly says "I'll call her when I get there."
"When you get to Fiji?"
"You got it."
"Fine. I'll tell her."
The nurse walks off, disappearing through a set of doors. Ianto hesitates before following her. The nurse walks briskly - fewer people about, Ianto discreetly following behind. The nurse breaks into a jog. Ianto hurries to keep up with her - dodging around gurneys, Janitors mopping floors.
The nurse, hastily scrubbed and gowned, enters the theatre. Ianto hesitates but dares not enter. He grabs a mask of his own.
Looking through the glass window in the operating theatre door, he sees the young woman (seen in the hastily fixed elevator car the day before) lying on the operating table, a blood-soaked bandage covering her left leg. Lisa, wearing a surgical gown and mask, assists the Surgeon. The Sister hovers nervously in the background.
"Scalpel."
Lisa very slowly selects a scalpel from a tray of instruments and awkwardly hands it to the surgeon.
"I'm now making my primary incision just above the left knee."
The patient's eyes blink open in horror. The assistant steps in Ianto's view before he can get a good look. Suddenly, a Security Guard appears beside Ianto and takes him by the arm. "This isn't gonna be pretty. Unless you're family of the patient, I'll have to ask you to leave."
"No problem. I don't want to cause any trouble."
.
.
Ianto takes a seat at the only desk in an empty travel agency. The travel brochures and posters that adorn the walls all feature destinations that bear a striking similarity to picturesque Torchwood. Another poster spells out the dangers of travel - "TRAVELLERS BEWARE - Terrorists, Disease, Wild Animals, Street Gangs". A female Travel Agent enters from a rear door. "I'm sorry to keep you. How can I help?"
"I want to book a flight to Fiji."
"Where exactly?"
believing she is being deliberately obtuse Ianto repeats slowly "Fiji."
With a trace of condescension she asks "Where in Fiji? What island?"
"I'm sorry, er...the biggest one."
Entering the destination in her computer she asks "iti Levu. For how many?"
Ianto narrows his eyes, finding the question suspicious "One."
"When do you want to leave, remembering, of course, you do lose a day on the way there?"
"Today."
Reading off her computer screen she sighs "I'm sorry. I don't have anything for at least a month."
Ianto is highly suspicious "A month."
She is patiently explaining "It's the busy season"
With paranoia showing Ianto questions "You are a travel agent, aren't you? (reading her nametag) "Doris"? Your job is to help people travel."
showing amazing restraint she replies "I do have a fabulous rate on a cruise ship departing for Fiji tomorrow. But you wouldn't want to do that."
"Why wouldn't I?"
"I thought you were in a hurry."
Ianto is calming down "That's right."
"You want to book the flight?"
"It doesn't matter. I'll make other arrangements."
.
.
Emerging onto the street, Ianto looks across to the building which he entered the previous day. It is now cordoned off with police tape after the elevator disaster. Flowers have been laid at the doorway.
A Greyhound Bus, bound for "CHICAGO" according to its destination sign, sits idling at the stop. Just as a burly Supervisor is about to wave the bus on its way, Ianto dashes into the station.
"Last call for Chicago"
Ianto jumps onto the bus behind the last boarding passenger … a young soldier. Ianto says to the Bus Driver, as he boards the bus "Windy City, here we come."
Ianto takes a seat by a window. An awkward silence descends over the bus. The other passengers - a Mother with a restless Child, several Tourists, an Old Couple and the Young Soldier - all stare stiffly straight ahead, averting their eyes from Ianto.
No one is more uncomfortable than the Bus Driver. Beads of perspiration on his head, he fumbles for the gear shift, apparently unsure how to operate it. The gears grind.
The other passengers try not to notice. The child, tugging her mother's sleeve, points to Ianto. Her mother makes her face the front of the bus. Finally the Supervisor enters the bus. "Everybody off. We've got a problem."
The relieved passengers hurriedly exit until Ianto is the only one remaining on the bus. The Bus Driver looks almost sorry for Ianto who sits resolutely in his seat - the hint of a tear of frustration in his eyes. "I'm sorry, son."
.
.
A BAR SOMEWHERE.
The bar seen earlier. A small group of Patrons discuss developments. The Waitress seems upset, occasionally glancing to camera as she pours a beer.
"Why would he want to go to Chicago? Who does he know from there?" one of the patrons asks the room.
"His doctor came from Chicago, didn't he?"
"Wasn't his father from Chicago?"
Upset, the waitress replies "He's not going to Chicago. He's not going anywhere. He has to have it out with Lisa."
.
.
As Ianto rides home on his bicycle, he stares wildly about him - the rear-view mirror on his bicycle is suddenly cause for concern, so are the trees and streetlamps lining the roadway.
.
.
Ianto is staring at the highway from the bottom of the garden, doesn't bother to look up as Lisa, still wearing her nurse's uniform, approaches. Referring to a distant car on the expressway he asks "See that car way down there? I bet it's a Subaru station wagon."
Lisa looks idly over the fence at the approaching car. Finally, a Subaru station wagon motors by. Lisa is unimpressed. Ianto turns his back on the highway to continue his game. "I predict the next four cars will be a white Honda Civic, a blue and white Dodge Dart with the front hubcap missing, a Volkswagen Beetle with a dented fender and a motorcycle."
Lisa doesn't wish to participate in the game and makes for the house. Ianto holds her arm, forcing her to watch. He turns to check his prediction. A convoy of cars approaches.
"There's the Honda...the Dodge...here comes that dented Beetle..." Lisa's attention wavers. Ianto tightens his grip. "Look!"
Following the VW is a school bus.
"Where's the motorcycle?" Lisa mocks.
Ianto is momentarily disappointed. "Don't you want to know how I did that?"
A motorcycle putters by. Lisa turns and walks back to the house. He hurries after her.
"I invited Andy and Rita for a barbeque Sunday with their kids. I thought I'd make my potato salad. Remind me…" Lisa is gushing.
"I won't be here Sunday."
"…we need more charcoal."
"Are you listening to a word I'm saying?"
"You're upset because you want to go to Fiji. Is that it?"
Ianto is puzzled by her conciliatory tone.
"Okay, do it. Get it out of your system. Save for a few months and go. There. Happy now? I'm going to take a shower." She turns away.
Catching her wrist he demands "Let's go now."
"What?!"
Despite her protests, Ianto drags Lisa towards his car. As he shoves her into the car he excitedly gushes "I'm ready to go now. Why wait?"
Ianto holds Lisa's wrist to stop her exiting the car and accelerates out of the driveway in reverse without looking … almost running over Pluto the dog and Hew with his garbage can.
Ianto starts circling a gazebo at the center of a roundabout, faster and faster. "Where shall we go? Where shall we go? Spontaneity is what it's all about. Forget Fiji. We can't very well drive to Fiji, can we? What about Atlantic City?"
Trying to mask her anxiety she replies "You hate gambling."
"That's right. I do, don't I?"
"So why do you want to go?" Lisa asks.
"Because I never have." Ianto grinned maniacally "That's why you go places, isn't it?"
"Ianto, I think I'm going to throw up."
Ianto roars off down the street. "Me too."
Almost immediately, Ianto encounters a traffic snarl. There is a manic edge to his voice "So much traffic, this time of day. Does that strike you as peculiar?"
Without warning, Ianto suddenly dives down a side street. But his move is anticipated. At the end of the street, a pack of cars suddenly appears. Other vehicles fill the gap behind. Ianto turns to Lisa, marveling "Blocked at every turn. Beautifully synchronized, don't you agree?"
Lisa is incredulous "You blaming me for the traffic?"
"Should I?" Ianto reverses suddenly and makes a U-turn. "You're right. We could be stuck here for hours. Could be like this all the way to Atlantic City. Let's go back. I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me."
Ianto starts heading back the way they came, the roadway now relatively free of traffic.
"Would you please slow down, Ianto?"
Ianto floors the car. The car flies past their house. "Ianto, that was our house!"
"I've changed my mind again. What's New Orleans like this time of year? Mardi Gras. Or let's just see where the road takes us." Ianto is completely raging now.
Lisa is pleading "Let me out, Ianto. You're not right in the head. You want to destroy yourself, you do it on your own!"
Ianto is eerily calm "I think I'd like a little company."
As he speeds erratically, Ianto glances at the streets on either side of the main road where he discovers a distinct lack of moving traffic.
Ianto gushes maniacally to the anxious Lisa at his side "Look, Lisa. No cars! I don't run into traffic. The traffic follows me around. (excited by his discovery) We're in a moving pack, don't you see?"
But Ianto's clear path is short-lived. He is forced to slow once again behind a line of other cars at a bridge. He says to Lisa "It's hard to go places, isn't it?"
Lisa is looking up ahead at an overturned car "There's been an accident, Ianto."
"Uhuh. There's no accident. It's just more stalling." Ianto floors the car again and swerves into the oncoming lane. He roars along the bridge on the wrong side of the road. Near the end of the bridge, a distraught motorist dashes into the middle of the road, waving his arms. Ianto slams on the brakes.
The motorist cries out while pointing to a small boy lying very still on the ground beside a wrecked car "is there a doctor, a nurse?"
"Ianto, it's a child. I've got to help…"
Hardly glancing to the boy Ianto huffs "He'll be fine."
Ianto roars on, almost bowling over the concerned motorist.
"Ianto, I took the "hypocrite" oath!" Lisa screams.
"I bet you did." Ianto roars past a sign that reads, "YOU ARE NOW LEAVING TORCHWOOD - Are you sure that's a good idea?"
Back at the accident scene, the little boy, apparently uninjured, sits up.
They roar pass an illuminated sign - "FOREST FIRE WARNING - Extreme Danger".
"Ianto, what about that sign?" Lisa asks, looking back with wide eyes.
"I'm sure they're just exaggerating."
Suddenly, a 20-foot high wall of flame shoots across the roadway in front of them - as if someone flicked on a gas switch.
"What about that - do you believe that?!" Lisa is shocked.
Ianto experiences his first moment of doubt. He looks to the terrified Lisa, then closes his eyes tightly and accelerates through the fire wall. He is startled to find that they have emerged on the other side, singed but unscathed.
However, the open road in front of them now disturbs Ianto for a different reason - its sheer lack of anything unusual. Signs along the road advertise motels and give directions to other destinations - "I-6211 - 2 miles", "Torchwood Motel - Pool, Colour TV".
Lisa also now appears to be resigned to the journey. "So what do we do for money when we get to New Orleans?"
Ianto is not so confident now "I've got my Torchwood Bankcard."
"So we just eat into our savings, is that the idea? I'd better call your mother when we get there. She'll be worried sick - I don't know how she's going to take this."
Ianto appears very unsure of himself.
However, there is still a barrier between Ianto and Bourbon Street. The highway, leading to a cloverleaf freeway junction in the distance, is completely blocked off by Torchwood police cars. No way past. Nuclear silos in the distance spew out an ominous puff of smoke. A sign reads,
"TORCHWOOD ISLAND NUCLEAR POWER STATION - Clean, Safe, Economical - More Power To You!"
Ianto is forced to slow at the police barricade. "Now what?"
The grim-faced officer, is indicating the nearby power plant "Leak at the plant. They had to shut her down."
"Is there any way around?" Ianto asks.
"The whole area's being evacuated." The officer says with genuine sorrow.
"Well, thank you for your help."
"You're welcome, Ianto."
Ianto's eyes widen at the mention of his name from an apparent stranger. As the officer turns, Ianto bolts from the car, leaving Lisa in the passenger seat. "Ianto! Come back!"
Ianto flees into the forest.
.
.
The Two Old Ladies we have observed before are almost overcome with tension. One lady reaches out for her companion's hand.
.
.
Ianto bursts past the alien-looking HAZARDOUS WATER Workers in their protective suits carrying detection instruments. The workers give chase in their cumbersome suits, trying to cut off his path.
Nearing the edge of the forest, Ianto hears the sound of hammers and saws. But before he has time to see the source of the sound, he is tackled to the ground.
As Torchwood Police Officers drag him away, one of the WASTE WORKERS walks the remaining few yards, pushing aside a wall of tropical foliage. We now see what Ianto was prevented from seeing.
A Polynesian island is under construction by dozens of Riggers, Painters and Set Decorators. Large cranes are lifting palm trees into place, a fake volcano is being tested in the distance and rehearsals for a fire walking ceremony are underway complete with hot coals, Drummers and Firewalkers in native dress.
The wings and fuselage of an airliner are being constructed on a hydraulic gimbal. Leading into one side of the airliner is a covered walkway, emblazoned with a sign, "Torchwood Island - Departures". Emerging from the opposite side of the airliner is an old-fashioned airline stairway with the sign, "Welcome to Fiji"
At the foot of the steps, two women in Fijian dress are being shown the correct way to present a floral lei. "Did he see us?"
The Waste Workers says into a microphone "Negative."
.
.
Lisa shows two Torchwood policemen out the back door. "Thank you."
"You're lucky he's not glowing, Ma'am. Next time we'll have to file charges.
Lisa joins Ianto at the kitchen table. Ianto applauds ironically.
"Let me get you some help, Ianto. You're not well."
Ignoring her medical advice he asks "Why do you want to have a child with me? You can't stand me."
"That's not true." Lisa picks up a package and holds it to camera. "Why don't I make you some of this new Mococoa Drink? All natural. Cocoa beans from the upper slopes of Mount Nicaragua. No artificial sweeteners…"
Ianto is incredulous "What the hell are you talking about?!"
"I've tasted other cocoas. This is the best."
Ianto rises from the table and backs her around the room. "What the hell has that got to do with anything? Tell me what's happening?!"
Frightened but remaining poised Lisa cajoles "You're having a nervous breakdown, that's what's happening."
Backing her up against the kitchen bench Ianto accuses "You're part of this, aren't you?!"
Lisa grabs the "Chef's-Mate" from the counter to protect herself. She points the potato peeler at him. "Ianto, you're scaring me!"
Ianto looks into her eyes and, with surprising swiftness, grabs her wrist and disarms her. "No, you're scaring me, Lisa!"
Ianto grabs Lisa and turns the Chef's Mate on her. He stares wildly about him. "Stop this now. I'll do it. I swear."
"Do something..."
Upon hearing her remark, Ianto's eyes widen. Sensing that she too is addressing a third person, he jerks her head around to read her face.
Wild-eyed he demands "Who were you talking to?!"
Lisa is incredulous "You're the one talking to the walls!"
"No. You said, "Do something." Who were you talking to?" Ianto demands "Tell me!"
"Ianto, stop it!"
"Suddenly, the front door chimes."
"Right on time. Cops must be telepathic." Ianto grabs his peeler and marches Lisa down the hallway to the front door. The doorbell chimes a second and third time, more insistently. Ianto is shouting through the closed door "Stay where you are!"
"Ianto? It's me, Andy. I need to talk to you."
Ianto flinches. He was so convinced it would be the police. He takes a step back against the hallway wall. Before he can decide what to do, Andy has opened the unlocked front door to be confronted with the sight of Ianto holding the peeler to Lisa's throat.
Andy locks eyes with Ianto. Sizing up the situation, he slowly but decisively removes the peeler from Ianto's hand. Lisa wrenches herself free from Ianto's now limp grasp and collapses into Andy's arm, sobbing.
Lisa is distraught "How can anyone expect me to carry on under these conditions? This is...unprofessional."