8

Ianto's cruiser glides along as Ianto says calmly to the AI "Ianto, coding off."

Jack watches as the steering wheel retracts into the dash. Shakes his head. Everything is weird in the future. Then he admits "Hey, look, I'm sorry I yelled before... back there."

"No need to make a dehurtful retraction." Ianto says far too breezily to mean it "I've assimilated too much contraband. I fleshed you as some blow-up-the-bad-guys-with-a-happy-grin-he-man type, but I realize now you're the moody-troubled-past-gunslinger-who-only-draws-when-he-must."

"Ianto. Stop. I'm not any of that... I'm nothing." Jack gently says.

Touched, Ianto hands Jack a small, unusual box. "Oh, hey, here's what you asked for... Why do you..."

"Thanks. It's just a... hunch."

Ianto's car whirrs up to two giant, geometric buildings. Jack looks out the car window with interest "This is where you live?"

"You, too." Ianto smiles at him "I have procured you a domicile down the corridor from my own."

Ianto is soon showing Jack around the clinically cold apartment building.

"Everything is voice-coded. So if you need something..." A door opens in the darkness. "... just ask. Lights."

Lights come up. The place is like one of the 50's diners that never existed in the Fifties, the apartment is a monstrosity - a melange of 80's and 90's styles never quite seen together in this way. Ianto asks proudly "What do you think? I clicked off a lot of credits to create the perfect 20th Century apartment."

"It's very..." Jack struggles. It is… well … Not sure what. Just nods at all. Ianto beams.

"Isn't it?" Ianto gushes, then; a little halting "Jack Harkness, there is of course a well-known and documented connection between sex and violence. Not so much a causal effect, but a state of general neurological arousal."

Jack looks at him. He has no idea what his point is.

"And after observing your behaviour and my resultant condition, I was wondering if you would like to have sex?"

He had no idea that was going to be his point.

"With you?"

Ianto nods.

"Now?" Jack asks and Ianto nods again "Ahhh, ahhh, mmm, yeah."

"Great."

Ianto turns quickly to a cabinet and removes two strange high-tech helmets and a towel. Ianto, all excited, puts one of the helmets on Jack's head and hands him the towel.

Flicks a switch on the side of the helmet - read-out lights come on; activated. Ianto sits upon a bed opposite Jack, and repeats the operation on himself with the other helmet. "Now you have to relax. We'll start in a few seconds."

"Start what?"

"Having sex, of course." Ianto says as he flicks on the switch on his own helmet.

.

.

VIRTUAL REALITY WORLD

Ianto appears floating, a diaphanous gown blowing gently about him he floats slowly TOWARDS us, as he begins to peel off and discard pieces of the gown which dissolve immediately away. As he approaches nakedness...

..\.

.

A beat of open-mouthed amazement and enjoyment and then Jack tears the helmet from his head and throws down his towel with a mixture of confusion and anxiety.

Ianto is still seated across the room.

"What's wrong?" Ianto asks with confusion "You broke contact."

"Contact? I haven't even touched you yet!" Jack splutters.

Ianto removes his helmet with some confusion and hurt. "But... but I thought you wanted to make love."

"This is like boning Ms. Pacman."

Ianto stands, tossing her helmet down, and faces Jack. He is clearly flustered "Vir-sex has been proven to produce higher orders of

alpha waves during digitized transference of sexual energies!"

"Waddya say we just do this the old-fashioned way?"

Ianto looks at him, backing away in shock and disgust. "Uuuugh. You mean... fluid transfer?!"

"Boning, doing the wild mambo, you know..." Jack demonstrates "... the hunka chunka."

"That is no longer done!" Ianto says with horror.

Jack looks at him like he's out of his mind.

"Exchange of bodily fluids? Do you know what that leads to?"

Jack shrugs "Kids, smoking, a desire to raid the fridge."

"The rampant exchange of bodily fluids was one of the major reasons for the downfall of society." Ianto is trying to explain calmly "After AIDS there was NRS. After NRS there was UBT. One of the first things Dr. Cocteau was able to do was outlaw and behaviourally engineer all fluid transfer out of societally-acceptable behaviour. Not even mouth transfer is condoned."

"There's no kissing anymore...?' Jack gapes "I was a good kisser..."

"Ughh."

"What about kids?" Jack asks with interest.

"Procreation? We go to the lab. Fluids are purified, screened and transferred by authorized medical personnel only. Ugh" Ianto shudders "Ugh..."

"I didn't..."

"You are a savage creature. Jack Harkness, I wish you to leave my domicile now! I feel so… ashamed" he points to the door. Stamps his foot. Some things never change. He wants to explain. Ianto stamps his foot again.

He leaves.

.

.

In the darkness of his own apartment, Jack loudly bangs into something. "Ahh. Lights."

Lights come up. The place is, well, Jack. Exact same shape and size as Ianto's, but stunningly sterile and cold. Jack tragically takes in the place, pokes his head into a clinical bathroom, a bathroom with no toilet paper and a strange shelf with three seashells.

Shakes his head.

Jack's hands start to quiver toward a knitting needle and a ball of red yarn. Curiously furrowing his brow, Jack plops into a strenuously uncomfortable futuristic chair and begins almost unconsciously knitting the red yarn. He stops himself in perplexed surprise...

Suddenly, a LOUD BOPPING noise fills the air. A beautiful nude woman, casually brushing her teeth, appears on a vidscreen before Jack. "Hi, Martin! I was thinki – oh my God! I'm sorry, wrong number…"

In a panic, the Nude Woman reaches O.S. and the IMAGE CLICKS off. Jack smiles, then stops smiling. He awkwardly calls out to the telescreen.

"Uh, telephone directory..."

words begin appearing simultaneously on the screen.

Videophone directory accessed.

Jack almost bails, but finally, he asks with a little worried frown "Do you have a number for a Alice, I guess it's Alison now, Harkness? Or maybe under her mom's name, Warren, or... (the thought hits him) ... her mom might have even re-remarried. But she's passed away now..."

Shuts up. Realizes he's been rambling. As soon as he shuts up the screen scrolls.

Alice Harkness. No ref. Katherine Harkness. No ref. Katherine Warren.

(pause, pause)

No current ref.

"Was there one?"

Listed offspring under Lucia Warren through 2010. Listed different number domicile until 2028.

"What happened then?" Jack asks. He can't believe he's having a dialogue with TV screen.

No ref.

Jack the asks, dreading the answer "Did she die?"

No death certificate issued.

No ref.

"Good thing she didn't die without permission. Did she move?"

No relocation license granted.

No ref.

Jack is getting irked "Reason for 'no ref'?"

Hangs up on him.

The image blinks out, replaced by clouds and the "BE WELL" slogan. An annoyed Jack stares at the screen. He picks up the strange box Ianto gave him. Inside it is a stack of petite laserdiscs. Jack sticks the first laserdisc in his television.

A surveillance camera shot shows the image of the explosion at the museum. Jack pops the disc and puts another in. This time the surveillance village shows Cocteau and Associate Bob walking through the courtyard. Then the gunshot. Then finally Jack comes to the strange face-to-face between Cocteau and Hart.

Jack back-and-forth watches the stand-off with growing fascination. He almost unconsciously reaches out to the sewing needles and the red yarn...

.

.

.

Dark in the office. Cocteau steps in. Trailed by Associate Bob. Nothing happens. He looks around wondering why. A little annoyed, he demands "Lights."

"Nah, I changed that. Illuminate."

The lights go on. Hart is behind Cocteau's desk, his feet up.

"Illuminate." Hart repeats and they go off "Isn't that nicer? Go 'head, you try it."

Exasperated Cocteau barks "Illuminate."

The lights come back on.

"Raymond, bud, we need to talk."

"How'd you get in?"

"I wish I knew." Hart admits with a shrug "Access codes, routes to secret underground kingdoms, the words to songs I thought I forgot... I've been meaning to ask you about this. I can do almost anything. I like this. A lot."

Cocteau is starting to lose his calm demeanour "Your skills were given to you for a reason. Not for your personal amusement. Your job is to kill this nuisance, Thomas Payne no one else in San Angeles can perform this simple task anymore - and not to allow him to wreak any more surface harassing havoc. And your ineptitude allowed it to grow worse tonight."

"Ineptitude. Now I'd say that's a bit of a provocative word, Raymond. Have you ever been down to the Wasteland? Has anyone you know been down there? No?" Hart grins manically "Oooh. It's bad down there. Really bad. It's a wonder I got out of there alive. It's gonna be a big problem. I'm gonna need five or six more guys. Easy. You gotta list? 'Cause I don't wanna defrost no serial killers or mad dog types."

"So you're gonna be the only mad dog type?"

For a minute we might think Hart is insulted. Uh uh. "Exactemundo."

"Fine. Take care of it." Cocteau turns to Bob, then to Hart "Just get it over with... You're beginning to be more trouble than you're worth."

"Aww, don't say that..." Hart chuckles. Then, a little irked "What the hell is Jack Harkness doing here, Raymond? Who invited him to our party?"

Cocteau's gotta lie about this one. Wasn't part of his plan either. "Finish your business and I'll stuff him back in the freezer. Think of him as a guarantee."

"I took care of Jack before, don't worry your pointy little head about it. Now to avoid this ineptitude, we need these guys thawed..." Hart is demanding and is cut off.

Cocteau nods. "Yeah, whatever..."

"Illuminate." Hart purrs. The lights go out again. John chuckles madly.

Cocteau is getting aggravated "Illuminate."

Nothing happens.

Laughing as he disappears Hart chortles "Nah, I changed it again. See ya..."

"What a distasteful fellow." Associate Bob says with a sneer.

Cocteau just looks at him. Enough already...

"Oh shut up, Bob."