(A/N). Hello there! And welcome to my Prisoner fan fic. I know this fandom is rather small, but have always adored the show ever since I was a child. I really believe that this story has a lot to offer to Prisoner fans so have finally summoned up enough motivation to start work on it. I don't want to prattle on too much, though. I will try and update as often as I can. With that said, on with the first chapter.
Daytime. London, England.
Storm clouds roll overhead, a clasp of thunder is heard. Slowly, the thunder turns to the sound of a jet engine.
A runaway appears into view. A lone vehicle travels along it. A Lotus Super Seven drives towards us, driven by a stern-faced man.
Our view changes again to reveal the Houses of Parliament, the man driving past and towards Hyde Park. The Lotus enters an underground car park.
Entering the building through a set of double doors, the man strides down a long, narrow corridor leading to another set of double doors, he pulls these open with great ferocity. The man mounts a fierce argument before a man at a desk, delivers an envelope marked "Private - Personal - By Hand" to the other man, and slams his fist onto the desk, smashing the saucer of a cup of tea. The angry man leaves and drives home to Buckingham Place...not realising that he is being followed by a hearse.
Meanwhile, in an unknown location of filing cabinets, an automated system types a series of large X's across the man's photograph and drops it into a drawer marked "RESIGNED".
At the man's home, he quickly packs his possessions. The hearse pulls up and a man dressed like an undertaker approaches the front door. Suddenly, a white vapour floods the room through the keyhole, rendering the man unconscious... Blackness...
The man awakens and observes his surroundings. Seemingly still in his home, the man rises, walks towards his window, looks out...and sees the Village. Blinking with incredulity, the man hurries outside... We hear the sound of voices. One male, one female.
The man: "Where am I?"
The woman: "In the Village."
The man: "What do you want?" (he crosses the empty Village square).
The woman: "Information."
The man: "Whose side are you on?"
The woman: "That would be telling. We want information...information...information!"
The man: "You won't get it!" (he runs along a beach).
The woman: "By hook or by crook, we will." (a large, white orb rises from the bottom of the sea and into view, bursting to the surface).
The man: "Who are you?"
The woman: "The new Number Two." (watching from a large room, seated in a globe chair, the woman observes as the man races away from the orb).
The man: "Who is Number One?"
The woman: "You are Number Six." (we see a control room, and two men seated on a See-Saw like apparatus).
The man: "I am not a number, I am a free man!" (he punches the air with fury).
We hear the sound of the woman's laughter, our view turning to darkness...
.
.
.
.
"Good morning, good morning, good morning!" the distinct, female voice echoed on Number Six's radio. "And what a lovely day it is, too! Rise and shine! Rise and shine!"
To Number Six, this woman's voice had irritatingly become the signature sound of every single morning. To him, she was like a personal alarm clock. Her dulcet tones also had a habit of lulling him off to sleep as well. He never paid much attention to the words she uttered, however, as they were usually repetitive and of little consequence to him... This particular morning, though, her words did pique his interest ever so slightly.
"Before our regular programme of early morning music, we have an announcement to make." Oddly (for her, at least), the woman paused for a brief second before then continuing in a soft tone of voice... "Do you long to hold another's hand in your own? Do you long for the touch of that special someone?"
Number Six cocked his head in slight bemusement, as he got off the bed and put on his dressing gown, slowly making his way towards the kitchen.
Her voice growing in tone and enthusiasm, she continued. "Do you long for the kisses of your beloved?" She giggled ever so slightly. "If you do, then your day is tomorrow! More on this later. Now...music." At her command, an energetic march began to play.
"Probably should have chosen a more romantic melody, eh?" another female voice suddenly spoke up.
Number Six spun to face his front door...coming face to face with the new Number Two. Having been so intrigued by the announcer's words, Number Six hadn't even heard the sound of his front door opening.
Smiling to herself on attaining this small victory of surprising the Village's most important resident, the older woman began to slowly walk towards Number Six. She was around mid 50's in age, with dark chestnut hair. And she was very tall for a woman, nearly 6 feet in height... "I do hope you don't find this intruding."
"Certainly not," Number Six remarked in a sharp tone, as he headed into his kitchen area. "Would you care for some tea?"
"Well, we are in a pleasant mood, aren't we?" Number Two quickly made herself comfortable on one of the kitchen stools. "And yes, I'd love some." With a subtle nod of her head in the direction of the radio, the brass band that was playing suddenly stopped.
Either not noticing or caring about this, Number Six busied himself in preparing the kettle, his back turned to her. "Settling in, are you?" he asked as he plugged the kettle in and started it going.
"Here?"
"Yes." Number Six turned around to face her. "Here, there...everywhere?" He narrowed his light blue eyes slightly.
"Ha." She smiled... "The truth will out. You are sore about having your morning routine shaken up, aren't you?"
"Not at all, not at all." He shook his head slightly. "One gets used to expecting the unexpected around here."
"I get the feeling you haven't had an honest conversation in ages,'' she remarked off-handedly. "I noticed that when we met the other day."
"Indeed." Six lowered his head slightly, his fingers already beginning to drum on the kitchen surface.
"Every conversation doesn't have to be a verbal duel, you know? There are others way of communicating."
"Oh, I'm certain." His voice was dripping with barely disguised disdain.
"A good, old-fashioned...honest conversation." She practically beamed as she set down the umbrella she'd been holding onto.
"In that case...who are you?"
"Who am I?"
"Yes." Six pursed his lips slightly. "Your name? Age? Place of birth?"
Number Two allowed herself a small giggle at Number Six's words.
"Or better still." Number Six leaned forward slightly... "Who is Number One?"
"As I'm sure you're already aware,'' she spoke with a frown now on her face. "Questions are a burden to others, and-"
"Answers a prison to oneself," Number Six finished her sentence with a slight roll of his eyes, as he attended to the kettle and teapot... "So much for honest conversations."
"I assure you I'm quite sincere." To push home her point, Number Two then divulged as much personal information as able. "You want to know more about me? Who I am? Fine... I was born to a poor, yet loving family. But my beginnings were...rather harsh. Yet through...certain circumstances, I was fortunate enough to have elocution lessons. A small thing, you might think. But without a doubt it changed my life."
"Your parents died when you were extremely young, then? At some point during the first World War, perhaps?" Number Six correctly deduced.
Number Two furrowed her brow slightly before casting her gaze downward. "I do not wish to say any more for now."
Number Six didn't push the matter any further. He duly just set about preparing the tea. He didn't really believe her. And even if he did, what did it matter? He knew why she was here. He knew why she would make such efforts, even going the extra mile and maybe, just maybe...revealing some truthful information. And yes, the more he thought about what she said, the more he believed it. But it didn't change anything. It would not serve to soften his position... However, due to the fact a part of him did appreciate her efforts, that she was a woman, and the fact that she was one of the older Number Two's to ever hold office...he did decide to treat her with the utmost courtesy. Carrying the now filled tray over towards her, Number Six set it down on the small table before taking a seat opposite her. "Do you take sugar?"
"No, thank you." She removed one of the cups from the tray.
"I do appreciate your...manner" (Number Six finding himself unable to say the word, 'honesty'). "It's...rather refreshing." He ran his fingers along the edge of the small cup.
"You're welcome." She took a sip of the tea before setting it down... "I know that many of the former Number Two's have been rather forceful with you. With the whole Village, in fact." She let out a regretful sigh... "But I'm not like that. I've seen my fair share of pain in my time. I have no intention of bringing misfortune or petty tricks. I'm simply here to keep the ship steady. They know that... In fact, I sometimes wonder why I've been given this position at all. They know that I'm not nearly as important as some of my predecessors. And given the nature of the way things are being handled behind the curtain...who knows how long I'll be here." She let out a rather troubled deep breath, knowing that the life expectancy for old Number Two's was very short.
"You don't seem to have much respect or confidence in your masters." Number Six noted.
Ignoring this, Number Two continued. "However...I am loyal. And I do have a job to do." She met his gaze before taking another sip of her tea.
"Go on." Number Six continued to toy with his cup.
"It would be beneficial to me personally if...if I could get something from you."
"There it is," Six murmured, almost disappointed in himself for daring to genuinely like this woman.
"I don't mean information." She smiled. "I don't care about your secrets. I don't care about the reason behind your resignation."
Hardly processing her words, Number Six finished his tea in one, strong gulp, his minor trust in her now all but gone.
"I mean it." She reached out a hand and touched his.
Number Six looked down at her delicately lined, smooth, soft hand, slightly shaken by her touch...
With a small intake of breath, Number Two withdrew her hand... "I mean...join in. Be more sociable."
Pulling at his dressing gown, Number Six cast his gaze to the kitchen floor.
"Your treatment towards the other citizens is rather, shall we say...hostile at times. And all the activities you do take part in are mostly of an individualistic nature."
"And to be an individual is to be a menace, yes?" Number Six rose to his feet.
"There's being an individual and then there's being a social outcast," she returned before also getting to her feet, snatching the umbrella into her grasp as she did so. "All it does is draw attention to you. It's what's been driving these previous Number Two's against you, don't you see that?"
"Frankly, I don't care." He stepped out from behind the kitchen table and started to make his way towards the front door, trying to send a strong hint towards Number Two to leave.
"Alright!" she declared... "I'll make a deal with you."
"I'm not interested."
"There will be no more tricks. No more efforts against you."
"And you, in such a tenuous position, can guarantee that?" Number Six slowly turned back around to face her, his fingers on his left hand twitching violently.
"You heard the announcer." The older woman motioned her head towards the now mute radio. "The Village is beginning its first ever coupling programme."
"Coupling?" Number Six afforded himself a slight smile. "In this place?"
"It has happened before."
"It's against the rules."
"Only under certain circumstances." She explained. "If a man and wife were to come to this Village then they would not be separated. It was only the forging of new relationships that was frowned upon."
As he recalled the good professor and his wife, Number Six realised that Number Two was probably telling the truth about this.
"And you have met the children."
"Who are kept in a nursery style barracks." He sneered.
"As I said...it was frowned upon." Number Two spoke the words in a slightly shameful tone of voice, as though not agreeing with the fact that children born in the Village are immediately separated from their parents.
"What's changed?"
"The powers that be agree that new residents will be more cooperative if they're afforded a chance to have...pleasure without fear of punishment." Number Two spoke candidly. "I assure you, Number Six. No matter race, age, religion or even gender...they will come together tomorrow night. It will be a success. And one by one, all the individuals of this place will become...whole. Together. Having found peace and contentment with their true loves."
"And you believe that?"
"Yes." She nodded. "It's my idea. My programme."
"To make them care so much about someone else that the very idea of that person getting hurt will cause them to give themselves over to the Village. Is that it?"
"If that were the case we could threaten loved ones outside the Village, couldn't we?" Number Two challenged. "All I want to bring is happiness to people, Number Six, that's all. I want to make this place the very best it can be. I'm not like the others." She let out a small sigh, wondering if her words were having any impact at all. "I assure you, Number Six...I'll never resort to force."
Number Six began to pace up and down on the tiger rug, his hands behind his back and his fingers still twitching, his mind working overtime...
"I hope you'll be there. For my sake...and yours." Number Two took a deep breath before walking towards the front door, which promptly swung open the moment she began to approach it. On reaching it, she stopped and turned around to face the Village's most famous rebel. "There's nothing wrong with moving on, you know. There's nothing wrong in allowing yourself to be happy."
His opinion of her still not fully formed, Number Six gave her the familiar salute before walking up the small flight of steps, heading to get dressed. "Be seeing you."
"Tomorrow night?"
"Wouldn't you like to know." He disappeared into his bedroom.
Smiling to herself, Number Two exited the premises, leaving Number Six to think about what had just happened for the rest of the day.
(A/N). And so we come to the end of chapter one. I would like to know your thoughts on the story, so please feel free to leave me a quick review. I accept all comments and welcome constructive criticism.
All the best.
Be seeing you.