Hard Time by Demi-X Part Six ack in their pod, after what Victor believed was without a doubt the most awful meal he'd ever eaten, the two agents started to put their heads together in an effort to come up with a plan for the investigation. Even though they had made some cursory plans before they came in, the men found that they had to make some adjustments to them now that they're actually inside. Both men were sitting on Mac's bottom bunk, pretending to play a game of chess. Mac sat cross-legged while Victor had his left leg hanging over the edge of the bed and his right foot tucked under his left thigh. Every so often they would move a chess piece to another square or take off a pawn for effect, but the game was a just sham for the guards. All the other prisoners were already locked in for the night. "Once I get myself situated in the library, I'll look up Carter in the computer, and also the name of any other prisoner who was released recently." Victor emphasized the word "released" with a sarcastic tone, knowing full well that Joseph Carter was still supposed to be incarcerated at the time of his disappearance. "I'll hack into the prison database and see if there's any documentation of a connection Joseph Carter had to the three other missing men." Mac nodded his head in agreement and Vic continued, "I'll look for any ties to any particular guards that were on duty when Carter disappeared, see if they tie in to anything else. I'll see who his podmate was, maybe try to ask him some questions. What are you going to do tomorrow?" Victor picked up Mac's black knight and put it on the bed with some other chess pieces. Mac, pretending to ponder over his next move, replied with, "Well right after I finish cooking breakfast for 10,000 people.Ö" Vic interrupted with a gentle admonishment. "Maaac. Don't exaggerate." "Anyway, after I'm done slaving in a hot kitchen all morning, I'll ask around during the clean up and see if anyone knows anything. Find out if he had any enemies, friends, etc." "If anyone gets curious as to why were asking about Carter," Victor leaned back on his elbows and stared thoughtfully up at the bottom of his bunk, "We should say he's our relative, something like that." As Victor leaned back on his arms a little farther, he was un-conscious that his t-shirt rode up just far enough to give Mac a delicious view of about four inches of his smooth, white abdomen. Mac could see a very small chestnut colored trail leading from the bottom of Victor's still bruised navel to somewhere below the band of his ill fitting prison pants. Mac had seen it all before of course, but somehow sitting here catching only a tiny peek between fabric was more tantalizing. Victor, with his face turned up and eyes closed in thought, was totally unaware of the effect he was having on Mac. His partner licked his lips at the inviting pose Victor seemed to be striking for him. To Mac's surprise, his cock suddenly twitched and began to harden in earnest. Mac quickly reached behind himself and grabbed his pillow, placing it on his lap to cover his erection. He chewed on his lower lip nervously at his reaction. For some reason, Victor was having an effect on him these days that he was at a loss to explain. Just sitting here and staring at Victor was turning Mac on more than he would have ever thought possible. All that Mac could think of now was that suddenly his partner had somehow gone from being just plain old, mildly annoying Vic to a highly attractive hunk of a man. How did I NOT realize how sexy he was before? Man, was I blind? I must've been really distracted by LiAnne or something. As Mac contemplated his new found attraction for Victor, he kept on staring at his oblivious partner. Victor eventually opened his eyes and sat back up into a more comfortable position, obscuring the delicious view that he had been so generously providing for Mac; much to Mac's disappointment. Victor wiped tiredly at his eyes with the heels of his hands and said, "Yeah, if anyone asks, just say Carter's your cousin. That way we can keep our stories straight. How's that?" Victor looked expectantly at Mac, who was still staring at him—or rather, through him, or so it seemed to Victor—as he waited for an answer. "God, you're beautiful," Mac murmured softly. In an instant he realized the mistake he made. Oh shit! What the hell did I just say?Mac was horrified. Victor, not quite catching what Mac had mumbled, questioned, "What? I didn't hear you, what did you say?" Thank Christ for small miracles, Mac thought before quickly covering himself by answering, "I said, right, you betcha." Mac grimaced inwardly at the lame reply, but Vic seemed to accept it, allowing Mac to breath a sigh of relief. In bed that night, with darkness enveloping him, Mac brought himself off to a very explosive, very satisfying orgasm by using images of Victor. After years of practice, Mac came in virtual silence. And when he caught his breath again, he smiled up at the bunk above him, knowing that Victor was up there sleeping, and so far, quite peacefully, totally oblivious to the fact that Mac was jerking off below him. Mac would probably have been fairly shocked to find out that Victor was in fact not asleep. He was wide-awake and had been listening to the very faint sounds Mac made as he masturbated. He had to hand it to Mac, the man was very good at being quiet during orgasm. If it weren't for the fact that sleep was not coming to him easily tonight, Victor was sure he wouldn't have heard a thing. He had been lying motionless on his bed, thoughts meandering to the disturbing areas, when he finally realized that Mac was not asleep either. Victor's cheeks burned slightly at the thought of Mac's exposed cock as the man touching his exposed flesh sensuously to bring about release and pleasure. Victor was dismayed when his own penis began to harden to the soft sounds of Mac jerking off. Even though his underwear became tight and stretched by the fullness of his erection, Victor resisted the urge to touch himself. He wasn't ready for any sexual activities yet and he doubted he would be for a long time. So Vic simply rolled over to his side and tried, though without much success, to put Mac out of his mind. Four Days Later As both men were slowly beginning to settle into their routine prison life, they were also steadily beginning to work on their plan of action to find out more about Carter and the other missing men. During this time, LiAnne had still not visited either of them, nor had the Director, which was quite strange. Presently, Vic and Mac were returning to their pod for the post-breakfast head count. As they stood outside of their pods, waiting to be counted off, Mac told Victor softly out of the corner of his mouth, "I think I can start asking around about Carter today, the men I work with are getting used to me." Victor, who was scowling at a big guy across the floor who was making eyes at him, grumbled back, "Yeah, last night, I finally figured out a way to hack into the system. I'm sure it'll work. I'll try it out today if I can." Victor then narrowed his eyes further and glared at the con who was still giving him the looks. No matter what Mac said, Victor still didn't think he would ever be able to get used to another man's unwanted attentions, especially after what happened with Gant. He was gradually beginning to replace the guilt and humiliation he felt from the incident with Gant with anger and determination. At this point, he rarely blamed himself anymore when he thought of what happened, but instead, his thoughts would turn to ways of revenge against that bastard. The con that was checking Vic out found it amusing that the gorgeous green-eyed man was glaring angrily at him, as if that would really discourage him. The guy knew he could have anyone any time due to his size and strength. He knew the names of the two of them already and even though the gorgeous new fish was sticking close to his podmate, who was a very pretty specimen himself, the con was still confident that neither of them were any match for him. He had come to believe that the two of them were getting it on with each at night when no one was looking, that would certainly explain their coziness and their familiarity with each other. Smiling and licking his lips lasciviously, he continued to stare at Vic. Of the two he enjoyed antagonizing Vic the most since he produced the greatest reaction to the big man's lewd gestures and dirty words that he would whisper in Vic's ear when walking by him. But the con was always very careful not to touch Vic...just yet. He had heard about what happened to Gary Russell when the asshole had foolishly tried to cope a feel. Russell was still in the infirmary with a badly sprained and bruised elbow, courtesy of Mr. Smith. Still, whether it was Smith, the one he considered edible, or his podmate Jones, who he considered delicious, in the end, he would have one or the other, preferably Smith of course. He smiled nastily. He would bide his time. After all, he had all the time in the world to reel in one of them, with or without their consent. When the bell went off, signaling the end of the count, Victor was released from his staring contest with the hefty con who just would not leave him alone. That fucker lays even one finger on me..., Vic's hands clenched unconsciously at the thought. Mac turned to Victor just then to say good-bye before leaving for his duties. The two men made fists and tapped their knuckles lightly against each other, much like boxers would do before commencing a fight. "Take it easy, Vic. See ya in the weight room later." Mac grinned at Victor. He knew that his partner had been shooting daggers at the big con across the way all this time, so he said in a practical tone to Victor, "He stares at you and says stuff to you because he knows it pisses you off, Vic. He gets off on your reaction, you realize that don't you?" Victor only frowned in return. "Whatever. He just drives me crazy, every time I turn around he's looking at me like...I mean, how do you manage to ignore these assholes if they keep at it?" "I'll tell you over lunch," answered Mac amicably, "I gotta go or I'm gonna be late for the clean-up." Mac turned and called over his shoulder as he left, "See ya." Victor raised his eyebrows and answered, "See ya" Victor walked across the center of the block and stood waiting at a locked door for a guard to come and escort him and three other prisoners that were assigned to the library and records room as well. The way to the library was through the underground corridors and they were off-limits to inmates who weren't escorted by a guard. The library was not open to the general inmate population. The prisoners had to make requests for their books and magazines; the requests would in turn be picked up by a couple of elderly inmates and brought to the library. The carts would be filled with the requested materials and the same inmates would then bring the books around to the men later that evening. Four men from A block and four from B block rotated with each other so that at one time, four men would arrange the library books and fill-out requests while the other four would work on the library's computers, doing menial tasks like entering the book requests into the computer logs, locating volumes elsewhere in the province if one was not available, and updating the book database when new books came in or old ones were lost or destroyed. If a book was not in stock, then requests had to be made to put a hold on it once it was available. The prison library had a good amount of fiction and non-fiction titles, but its selection of law books rivaled any law school on the outside. As Victor stood waiting for Wang-who was always late because, as usual he was sneaking a smoke in the guard's john-, the big con who had been harassing Victor earlier came up behind him and whispered into his ear in an obscene manner, "Wanna fuck, handsome?" Victor whirled around immediately, an outraged look on his face. In the last four days, he had managed to control his temper when it came to the inmates and the perverted thoughts they held for both he and Mac which they would not hesitate to tell them. He swallowed his anger enough to not lash out, but he still could not control his building anger and disgust. And now, he was teetering on the edge of his tolerance level. "If you get your dick anywhere near me, I swear I'll make you the next John Wayne Bobbitt," Victor warned in a seething tone. The large con only smiled at Victor. "Oh yeah? Well I guess your roommate might make a better lay after all." He was starting to walk away when Victor suddenly grabbed the large man's arm and with amazing force, thrust him face first up against the wall while twisting his arm violently behind his back. The Neanderthal only chuckled in response. "Ooh, so you like it rough, eh? So do you play rough with Jones too? Does he bend over and grab his ankles at the sound of your voice?" the pinned man needled nonchalantly. "You stay the fuck away from him. You stay the fuck away from me, got it, you piece of shit?" Victor used his free hand to push the other man's cheek further into the cement wall for emphasis. Before the trapped man could answer, Wang came up behind the two men and demanded, "All right, what's going on? Don't you have some- where to be, Gates? Let him go, Smith." Victor hesitated only a second before releasing Gates, who turned around to glare at Victor. He stabbed his index finger into the center of Victor's chest and threatened, "Catch you later, meat" Victor ignored the man and turned to Wang instead to mumble a perfunctory, "No problem here, sir." He ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling heavily to release the adrenaline rush he had felt. If Wang had not shown up when he did and interrupted them, Victor honestly thought that he would've broken Gates' arm. At least now Victor had a name to go with that ugly face. "Hey, if I were you, I'd watch my back very carefully from now on, man," warned a young inmate who had been standing nearby. The man was in his early twenties and Vic knew he lived in B block as well. Although he recognized the face, Vic didn't know his name yet. "He's mean bastard. Really mean. Trust me...I know from experience." The affable young man smiled at Victor then held out his hand as they both filed through the unlocked door. "Name's Barry," he informed Vic. Victor ignored the kid's out-stretched hand and replied, "Smith. And I'm not afraid of that dickhead." Barry smiled as pulled his hand away. "Yeah, well still, you better keep your eyes wide open." He waved to one of the guys from A block, whose group joined the men of B block. Barry said a curt, 'later' to Vic before taking off to move closer to the man that he had waved to so they could chat. The small crew of men began making their way to the prison library, escorted by four guards. One of them was Walker, who happened to be working in A block because of this week's rotation scheduled. Victor walked passed him and stared hard, as if daring the guard to try something, but the other man was not about to be drawn into Victor's game. instead, he looked Vic straight in the eye, a second longer than he should have, before flicking his gaze away. His face was even and calm the whole time; no one would've even guessed that there was bad blood between the two of them. Victor shifted his gaze as well and continued to walk ahead of Walker. However, he thought he could still feel the hack's eyes on his back the whole way down the long dimly lit corridor. Once in the library, the men were given their assignments. Victor was glad to find out that today he was assigned to a computer. He did have real work to do so he started on it first. The faster he got it done, the better. He didn't want to draw any suspicion to himself when he went through the databases later on. He also knew from observing the last few days that the best time to do the research on the database would be was when the hacks were huddled around outside for their smoke and coffee break. The inmates were not supposed to be left alone, but the guards figured that since they were only on the other side of thick plexiglass, they could still keep an eye on the guys. All the men who worked in the library were all the more calm, level-headed inmates anyway, none of them had prior records of real violence toward other inmates, or anyone else for that matter. And though it was rare for a new inmate to be assigned to library duty, since that was considered a reward job for the inmates who have been on good behavior, the guards never really questioned it due to the fact that the order for the assignment for Victor came from the powers to be. Victor was beginning to know the men he worked with, and in another week or so he decided he would start asking them casual questions about Carter's disappearance. He staved of the questions for now, because he knew that since no one knew him, they would not trust him... yet. Victor stretched his arms above his head to ease the slight pain in his back muscles. He rotated his neck to relieve the tension and when he glanced up at the clock high on the wall and smiled. Break time. He was working on a computer that was conveniently tucked away in a corner with a cubicle surrounding the desk he was sitting at. He stood up quickly to make sure that all four guards were outside, before sitting down and trying out the method he had thought of to hack into the prison computer system. He soon found that luckily for him, the password was the same for all the departments. Victor scanned through and when he found Joseph Carter's records, printed them out immediately. Fortunately also for Victor, the printer was sitting on a small table next to his computer and it was the quiet type. Vic leaned back to look around hastily, double checking to make sure he was still unnoticed. After exiting from Carter's records, he hacked into the medical records and printed out several things he thought might some use. In addition, he printed out the records that showed which prisoners had been released, early or otherwise, as well as those who had died and when. He then jumped over to his last destination: schedules of the guards. He ran off the monthly work rotations for the last six months, including this month. He didn't know if he would be actually able to use the schedule to some advantage, but he figured it would come in handy. When he was finally done, Victor exited from the prison database and returned to the library database. The printer had just finished printing and he was about to reach over and grab up the incriminating sheets when he heard, "What are you doing, Smith?", followed by the feeling of two strong hands gripping his shoulders. Victor froze. Oh SHIT. Okay. Calm. Stay calm, Mansfield. Walker leaned in close and whispered into Victor's left ear, "Don't worry, Smith, we're all alone. The other three are still outside." Walker stuck out his tongue and ran it lightly around Victor's earlobe. Victor tried jerking away, but Walker only gripped his shoulders harder to stop him. Walker sucked in the a small bit of Vic's earlobe, biting around the hoop that he wore, tugging on it with his teeth. Victor wanted very much to pull his head away, but he made no actual move to get away. The man's touch disgusted him and he felt nauseous, Victor swallowed down his bile, afraid to aggravate the guard. But when the other man's invading hands began to massage his shoulders, it was all Victor could do to maintain his control and not break Walker's fingers. Control, Mansfield. Control. Focus on the printer. The records. Stay calm. Victor was heeding Mac's advice to not lose his temper, he knew he would do no one any good if he did. The last thing he wanted was to get shut up in solitary confinement for a week or even a month as a result of hitting a guard; God knows what would happen to him then. So there Victor sat, and put up with the sick game Walker was playing. "What," he finally hissed through clenched teeth, "is it you want?" Walker laughed softly when he felt the muscles in Victor's shoulders bunch up beneath his hands. "Vic, Vic, Vic, why so tense?" he joked nastily as he kept up kneading Victor's shoulders. He leaned extra close, invading Victor's space and whispered in his ear again, "I just wanted to know how your ribs are feeling." "Fine," replied Victor icily, saying no more to the man than he had too. "And Gant? He didn't tear you up too much did he? I saw the towel. Pretty bloody," Walker said, referring to the towel Gant had used to clean Vic up with. Walker felt Victor tighten up even more and he smiled to himself; his mind games were working. "I said I was fine." Victor wished Walker would get his hands off of him soon, before he burst from the immense pressure that was building up in him. "Now if you don't mind, I've got work to do." He couldn't help giving into the urge, and tried to shrug off Walkers manipulating hands. Walker held on tight though and sticking out his tongue again, ran it up from just below the neckline of Victor's t-shirt to his left ear, where he gently dipped his tongue in again and then blew in a hot breath of air. The action made Victor to break out in goose bumps, much to his chagrin. Suddenly, Walker stood up and clapped Victor on the back. "No, I don't mind," he said evenly, "I'll let you get back to your work then, but we'll have to talk like this again sometime... soon." And then Walker and his invading hands were gone. Since he had his back to the guard the whole time, Victor didn't know that Walker hd noticed the sheets of paper that were sitting in the printer's basket, he just chose not to say anything about it. Walker smiled to himself as he went back to his three col- leagues who were still puffing away outside the door to tell them that break time was over. He had intentionally let the other three take a longer break time so that he could play with Victor. As soon as he heard Walker moving away, Victor took a deep breath in relief and waited a moment more before turning around to make sure the guard was gone. Satisfied, Vic turned back to the desk and placed his head in his hands. He began breathing in and out deeply to suppress the nausea he felt. He was really tempted to just turn and bend over and empty his guts out right there on the floor. He could still feel the imprint of Walker's hands on his shoulders, that vile tongue running a wet trail up his neck and if he had a knife now, he would use it to scrap at his flesh until the feeling was gone. After another minute, he hurriedly stood up to snatch the papers in the basket, folded then stuffed them in his pants, pulling his shirt over them. He then turned back to the computer to do some idle work as an attempt take his mind off of Walker. Part Seven Mac removed his rubber gloves with his front teeth and held them there, and then for the ninth time scratched at his itchy scalp which was hidden beneath a hair cap. He dragged his forearm across his sweaty brow and sighed heavily. He thought, with envy, again about how lucky Victor was to be in a nice cool library instead of sweating in a hot, clammy kitchen over a steaming sink of dirty dishes like he was doing. Mac shook his head; he was definitely going to take some computer classes when he got of out this place. "Quit yer dreamin' Jones and get back to work, the prep shift for lunch starts in half an hour," the trustee for the kitchen intoned. The man's name was Townsend, and the guards all called him by that, but when it came to the inmates who worked under him, he insisted that they called him MR. Townsend. The older black man was halfway through a 25 year stretch for second degree murder. Due to his good behavior at another facility, Townsend had earned a transfer to Kensington, which was great deal better than the peni- tentiary he had come from. He took his duties as trustee for the kitchen very seriously for he wanted to ensure that he would never get sent back to the old place. Although he projected a stern image, he did so so that the inmates would listen to him, especially the newcomers whom he didn't know well yet. But in reality, he was not at all hard to get along with. When Townsend finally moved on, Mac reached out and pulled down the rubber hose which had a showerhead that sprayed extremely hot water when the lever on it was depressed. He picked up another stainless steel tray and hosed off the leftover contents before placing it on a rack that already had about twenty other trays on it. The rack held thirty trays only, so when it was full Mac had to load it onto a tall metal cart that only had space for ten full racks and push it over to where the dishwashers stood. Other inmates were in charge of putting the trays through the dishwashers. After Mac was through cleaning the trays and the Tupperware-like mugs, he would then have to start in on the utensils that were used in the kitchen, as the inmates in the dining room were only allowed to use plastic utensils. After that it was time to scrape out the pots and pans of the kitchen so that the men who were actually assigned the job of cleaning the cookware could hand wash them in their own large sinks. Mac hated this detail, but he had to admit at least his fingernails had never been cleaner. When he was done rinsing the last tray, he stacked the entire rack on the cart and pushed it across the kitchen. Now I know how a ant feels, Mac thought wryly. A damn worker ant, that is. He parked the large cart next to an inmate who was on dishwashing duty and with whom he had become somewhat friendly with. The other man was about Victor's age and had loads of tattoos marking his arms. He also had a rare streak of albinism which manifested itself as a white trail which ran up through his left eyebrow up and forehead and then about three inches into his hair. "Hey Zeke," Mac called out casually to get the man's attention, "Can I ask you a question?" Zeke shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah sure. What?" "Well, I'm looking for this guy, his name's Joseph Carter. Last I heard he was living in B block and working in the kitchen. But now I can't find him anywhere. Have you heard about him or seen him? Did he get sent to the hole or something?" Mac looked at Zeke while he casually shrugged his shoulders, his bland expression belying the fact that he was anxious about the answer. "Of course the guards won't talk to me. It's like he just disappeared." Mac added. Zeke looked around himself, quickly turning his head right and left. He stepped closer to Mac before asking suspiciously in a hushed tone, "Why do you want to know? What's Carter to you?" Already prepared for such questions, Mac began to spin the threads of the story he and Victor had made up. "He's actually my cousin." When Zeke's eyes narrowed even more, Mac explained mildly, "I knew Joey was in Kensington; we wrote to each other once in a blue moon. We used to be tight, but then we went off in our different...careers. I was sorta crushed when I heard he got caught and thrown in here. Who would've thought we'd end up the same way? I was looking forward to seeing him again in here though; we haven't seen each other for so long." He gave Zeke the largest smile he could, which succeeded in disarming the con somewhat. The other man regarded Mac for a moment more, apparently very reluctant to say anything. After a while, he finally said, "Yeah I knew him." He looked at the tall man closely, thinking that for cousins Mac didn't look anything like Joe except for the dark eyes. Mac was a whole lot taller than Joey, but then again, that didn't really mean a thing, Zeke's own teenage son is taller than he and as fair as his mother is, not dark like himself. Zeke bit his bottom lip and taking up Mac's arm, pulled him behind the large dish cart. Making sure no one was within earshot, Zeke whispered, "We can't talk here. I'll catch up with you after the shift's over." He released Mac's arm and said a little louder, "You better get back to work or Mr. Townsend will chew your ass off." With that, Zeke grabbed the cart and began pushing it back to his sink. Mac grinned to himself, grabbed another free cart and hauled it back to his designated sink. This would be the last of the dishes, then it would be time to finish the rest of his duties in the kitchen. But after that Mac would be able to eat lunch with the regular population, his time done in the kitchen. After lunch he had a few free hours to recreate, which meant he could to do what ever he wanted. Mac was glad that he didn't have to work the early morning breakfast shift, that required getting up at the ungodly hour of four in the morning. Likewise, working the dinner shift meant he would do the lunch clean up, dinner prep and after dinner clean up, plus help prep whatever they could for the breakfast crew. When he was finally finished, he hung up the thick plastic apron that he had been wearing, snatched the cap off of his very itchy head and went straight for the dressing room, which was just a small open area where the inmates could hang up their clothing to put on their kitchen apparel or vice versa, wash up and use the bathroom facilities. As soon as Mac rounded the corner into the room he pulled up his t-shirt and wiped the sweat that was dripping from his forehead. Reefing up his t-shirt even more to wipe his whole face and neck, he exposed most of his chest as a result. His flat and firm expanse of abdomen, which was completely sculpted with muscle had not an ounce of fat to spare; it was a sight that would make mouths water. He had a lot of dark hair covering the width of his upper chest before, narrowing into a trail that ran down through the centre of his navel and into the depths of the delicious treasure encased in his pants. His nipples stood out like a couple of copper pennies even though they were submerged in a sea of black chest hair. Mac was totally unaware when the 'show' he had been inadvertently putting on actually acquired an unwanted audience. He had come into the dressing room alone; he preferred it that way since it ensured his privacy from the marauding eyes and hands that he and others that were good-looking like him dealt with on a daily basis. But he was in fact no longer alone. Two of the four cons who had watched Vic and him with an eagle-eyed eagerness the first day in the cafeteria and everyday since then, now stood in the entranceway to the small room watching Mac. One of the men licked his lips with anticipation of what they thought was about to come next and the other simply stood clenching and unclenching his fists. Both men believed that Mac and Vic would be easy targets, especially Mac, since he was thinner than Vic and looked less sturdy. So when they watched Mac enter the dressing room alone, they saw a window of opportunity open and they took it without hesitation. Neither con even had needed to speak to the other to convey their intentions; one simply nodded his head in the other's direction, and together they quietly followed and watched Mac, surveying the goods before they used it. Mac was uncharacteris- tically not paying attention to what was going on around him since he was deep into his thoughts about Vic and what Zeke would have to say to him later on. He finished drying off the parts of his sweaty body that he could reach before hastily tucking his t-shirt. He turned around to the small free-standing sink, and turning on the cold water tap, bent over and took a drink of the refreshing cold liquid rushing out of the faucet. "I liked him better with his shirt half-off, but the view of his ass is great too. Whaddya think, Clyde?" one of the two inmates commented casually. His companion only murmured his agreement in return. Mac swallowed a bit more water, taking his time to slake his thirst. After a moment more, he finally stood up and turned around slowly, giving the impression that he was listening to the men talk when he was actually measuring the distance between them and himself. He recognized the two faces immediately; they both worked in the kitchen as cooks, but Mac hadn't had much dealings with them yet. That is, up until now. Let's seeeee...probably too far to do my spin kick justice. Mac needed the men to get closer to him before he could really do anything so he said in an almost seductive voice, "So you're enjoying my show, eh?" The men only remained silent, smiling slightly. But Mac could see the unmistakable gleam of a 'predator on the hunt' in both of their eyes; he knew what they wanted alright. Good luck getting it, assholes, Mac thought as he lounged back casually against the sink, bracing his hands behind him at the same time for support just in case the opportunity arose where he could kick out his legs against them. "Well, it wasn't for your viewing pleasure. So why don't you two scram before you get hurt," Mac threatened softly. Clyde laughed. "You think you can hurt us, eh? Show him, John." At the cue, Clyde's partner reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade. He pushed the button and a five inch blade instantly popped out. Smiling maliciously, John advanced on Mac, holding the knife close to his side. Mac was a more than a bit curious as to how the other man had managed to smuggle a knife into Kensington. He guessed that a guard had to have brought it in for him or at least arranged for him to have one for a considerable amount of money as a reward for the favor. He watched intently as both men suddenly advanced on him at the same time. At some point Clyde had pulled a knife too, smaller than his partner's switchblade, but a very real one nonetheless. Okay, two guys with two knives...I can handle this. No problem. Mac flicked his eyes back and forth between the two. John and Clyde had come to a stand directly in front of Mac . "Get down on your knees pretty boy, and get ready to suck a lollipop," John ordered as he undid the top button and fly of his pants and pulled out his cock. Mac snorted and shot back cheekily, "That is the worst pick-up line I've ever heard." He looked down in disgust at John's exposed penis. He looked back up again and scoffed, "I don't like sweets after breakfast. And besides, that's not much of a 'lollie' you've got there." Clyde snorted briefly at the demeaning joke, John, pissed off at the insult, commanded angrily, "Shut up fuck up, Clyde. Why don't you teach pretty boy here a better way to use his mouth?." In a lightening quick motion, Clyde stuck the blade underneath Mac's chin. "Get down and open wide, bitch. Let's see what you're made of." Seeing no other choice for the moment, Mac did what he was told, slowly sinking down to his knees. Of course he had no intention at all of sucking either one of these two moron's cocks, knife or no knife. In order to heighten his own arousal, Clyde liked some violence and needed to see blood, so he pulled the knife away and struck Mac across the face hard with one large fist. Trapped between the sink and two bodies, Mac had no space to dodge the punch, so all he could do was take it and try to absorb it the hit as best as he could. The blow struck him on the left side of his face, causing Mac's head to snap back and smash against the rim of the sink. He saw a brief explosion of stars in front of his eyes, though he didn't lose consciousness. He was, however, momentarily stunned. Clyde took the opportunity to reach down and grab Mac by the shirt. He propped the agent up on his knees again, his cock hardening at the sight of the dark, red stream trickling down from Mac's left nostril and splattering drops on the man's shirt. A bruise was already beginning to form at the corner of Mac's mouth. Clyde, not wanting to wait for sloppy seconds, undid his pants quickly and shoved John back away from Mac so that he alone stood in front of the kneeling man. He licked his lips in anticipation, anxious to violate the man before him. The knife which had previously menaced Mac, now hung limp in the convict's left hand, Clyde, wrong in assuming that it was no longer needed. Mac's head had already cleared enough for him to think straight again, and in an instant he was able to spot his way out of the situation. His hand shot out like a snake striking and grabbed Clyde's balls and twisted harshly, instantly incapacita- ting the man. Clyde's left hand automatically dropped the knife, and using his free hand, Mac deftly swept the sharp blade away across the other side of the room. The weapon came to rest underneath a bench. Mac jumped up, releasing Clyde's nuts and at the same time the agent grabbed up two handfuls of the other man's prison issued t-shirt and pulled him forward toward himself roughly, banging his forehead into the con's nose, breaking it in one cartilage crunching, blood squirting smack. Clyde howled in pain, and when Mac pushed him away, he fell hard to his knees, clutching his bleeding and broken nose. Even as he was busy breaking Clyde's nose, Mac had seen from of the corner of his eye that John had extended his knife arm out. He was ready to attack and was only waiting for Mac to finish with Clyde, he wanted to have a crack at kicking the shit out of Mac himself for what he had done to his friend and for spoiling their fun. The goal of sexually violating the man was no longer on John's mind, only revenge. Though Mac was not necessarily stronger, he was most definitely the smarter fighter; he already had a defensive action made up. When he thrust Clyde away from himself, Mac extended his right leg to kick the knife right out of John's hand before he even knew what was happening. Mac heard John's wrist snap in the process, giving off the sound of a satisfying "crunch" that made Mac smile. Both men were now down and writhing with Mac being the only one left standing. He couldn't wait to tell Victor about these two fools. "What the fuck??" Zeke had heard the commotion from the kitchen and came in to see what was happening. "What's going on?" he asked Mac. Mac pinched the still flowing blood from his nostril and wiped it away. "Not much, I was just explaining to these two assholes how adverse I am to giving blow-jobs." Mac shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. Zeke hauled Clyde up from the floor then did the same to John. When the two men were standing almost steadily, he advised them, "You guys better get to the infirmary before Mr. Townsend sends a hack in here to see what all the yelling was about." Mac could see that though Zeke was not a trustee, he obviously still had some sort of authority over the rest of the kitchen workers. Clyde and John obeyed. They retrieved their knives, seeing the logic in getting the hell out of Dodge before a guard came in and caught them with the weapons. They'd be put into the hole for a month. Before leaving the dressing room, Clyde turned back to Mac and running a finger across his own neck deliberately to make a point as he mouthed the words, "You're dead," behind Zeke's back. Suddenly filled with exhaustion and impatience, Mac hollered back at the exiting man, "Anytime, Holmes! Anytime!" Zeke spun around to see who the agent was talking to, but Clyde had already gone. He turned back to Mac and said, "Leave them be. They're nothing but pantywastes anyway without the rest of their crew to back them up." He changed the subject quickly. "Listen, I want to help you find your cousin, but I don't want anyone to know that you talked to me, okay?" "Deal. What can you tell me?" Mac wetted some paper towels and began to wipe away some of the blood from his nose and chin. He hadn't quite stopped bleeding yet, but he knew he would in a minute or two. "I don't mean no disrespect or anything, Zeke, but why would you help me if it will only bring you grief?" "Joe was a good kid, he didn't bother no one. He didn't make trouble and he didn't go looking for it either. Joe was the best dishwasher I had." Zeke smiled at Mac, he now believed that he was indeed talking to the young man's cousin. "Joe didn't drink, smoke or do the bad drugs that's going around this place. He came to work to do his job and he did it right, you know?" Zeke sat down on the bench and continued talking after Mac nodded at him. "One day after he finished up the kitchen work, he came in here to get ready to leave, to go back to his pod. But Clyde, John and another one of their gang, a sadistic bastard named Marc, follow him in here. The three of them were looking for a little fun, if you get my meaning." Mac nodded but said nothing, he got it all right. "Anyway, Joe put up a hell of a good fight, but there were three of them you see, and well you know yourself, your cousin wasn't that much of a heavy weight. In the end, those three bastards they took what they wanted from Joe. Because he had fought them so hard, when they were done, they left him on the floor fairly messed up; he was bleeding from both ends." Mac looked properly horrified, his grimace genuine. Zeke shook his head and then stood up to take a drink from the tap before going on. "He did some time in the infirmary. Took him a few weeks to mend physically, but even when he finally had, that poor kid just wasn't the same after. He got meaner, way meaner, and he did stuff he never tried before, like picking fights. Well, one day he spies John alone and boom, he attacks him. Did a pretty good job too, but then the hacks came and broke it up and gave both guys a week in the hole for fighting. John didn't like solitary, so when he got out, I heard him, Clyde, Marc and a fourth Musketeer called Bobby, who's the leader of the four of them, talking about how they could make Joe disappear. How they could go to someone and they would take care of it. I don't know who they were talking about, I was only listening for a few seconds before Gant came by and I cleared out before he saw me eavesdropping. You know, Jones, they wanted to get rid of that poor kid for revenge. Of course, none of the assholes took into consideration that it was them that started the whole business in the first place." Zeke began to pace, he looked almost relieved, as if he was glad that he could finally get all this off of his chest. "Well, about two weeks after I heard them talking, Joe just up and disappeared. No word of him escaping or dying or anything, just no word at all." Zeke stopped pacing and turned to face Mac, who had remained silent, listening attentively the whole time. "Maybe his old podmate might be able to help you out. He's still in the same block and pod. His name's Matt. Matt Vandenburg." Mac nodded his head at his friend. "Hey, thanks for all the help, man, I appreciate it, My aunty sure would be grateful to find out what happened to him, you know?" Mac smoothed another layer over the lie for effect. "Oh, what's the number of the pod?" asked Mac. "B block, pod 24," answered Zeke. "Thanks again man, see you tomorrow morning," Mac said as he started for the doorway. "I hope you find out what happened to your cousin. He was a good kid," Zeke called out. He shook his head in sadness again; he had seen enough of life on the inside to know that when he was paroled he would make sure he will never come back inside. After he got out, he was going to go 'straight' and stay out of prison for good. He knew that if he didn't then the 'joint' would eventually kill him. Mac went through the doors of the main dining room and stepped out into the hallway. He glanced down at his bloodied t-shirt in disgust. Fucking assholes. They had better learn their lesson. Still, he was able to sigh cheerfully. At least now he had a place to start to finding out what happened to Joe Carter. Something struck him then. Hmm, four guys... inte- resting. And two of them came right for me today! Victor's gonna be thrilled to hear this, Mac mused as he waited for a guard to unlock the door and escort him through the locked entrance to B block. As Mac stood there, Walker came around the corner and held the door open for Mac who stepped through first. "Jones" "Sir," Mac replied in a cold, polite way. "You've been fighting, boy?" Walker made of show of narrowing his eyes at Mac, sweeping his gaze down the length of the agent's body and then up. It was obvious in his expression that he did not like Mac, even though Mac had had no real dealings with him. "No, sir," Mac answered with mock respect as he touched the bruise on the left side of his mouth with his fingertips. He didn't like being called 'boy' by a guard who was as young as himself, maybe even younger. "I just slipped on the wet tiles in the kitchen and hit the sink on the way down." Mac grinned at Walker and then said impudently, "Maybe I can sue the prison for personal injury. Whaddya think? Do I have a case?" Deciding to let Mac's remarks go, Walker only gave him a dirty look as he tore a piece of paper from his clipboard and handed it Mac. "You got an appointment with the social worker in half an hour. Clean yourself up before you go and see her. Now get out of my sight. You make me sick." Walker scowled. Mac was pleased that he managed to irritate Walker so he replied joyfully, "Yes, sir! Right away, sir!" He turned around a strolled away from the guard. He knew that Walker had taken part in Vic's beating, so he was more than happy to annoy himó-though of course in a very subtle way so that he wouldn't get in trouble for it—any chance possible. However, Mac had no idea why Walker was pissed with him to begin with. At least I don't have to work at it much then, he thought with a smile. He flung open the door to the pod, and was pleased to see Victor , who was reading some papers while he lay on his upper bunk. Victor looked up at the beaming Mac. "Man, you look like the cat that swallowed the canary and the canary fought back. What the hell happened to you?" Victor commented, concerned when he saw the bloody and bruised condition Mac was in. "Yeah? Ah, don't worry it's no problem. Oh, but," Mac walked over close to Victor. "I think we might have made very good progress today." Then he clamped a hand on top of his partner's shoulder and squeezed tightly in triumph. Part Eight Mac squeezed Victor's shoulder a little tighter and in a very bold gesture, ran his hand lightly down Victor's arm, stopping at the wrist, and lingered for just a second before pulling his hand away. Smiling, he walked away and went over to the sink. He jammed the plug into the drain before turning on the hot water all the way and letting the sink fill. He dipped his face cloth in, wrung it out and as he dabbed at the soreness on his nose, assured Vic with an airy, "I'm alright, really. Just a little sore maybe, but no big deal." He mopped at the rest of his face, as he added, "By the way, I'm supposed to see LiAnne in half an hour." When he was satisfied with his cleanliness, Mac turned back around to face Victor to see his partner looking at him dubiously. Mac's bruised and bloodied condition did not bode well in Vic's opinion; he who was therefore far more concerned at the present about the other man's health than about his meeting with LiAnne. "Hey, partner, really, this is nothing," Mac reiterated as he waved his hand casually in front of his face. "I went toe-to-toe with two goons, and ended up teaching them a lesson about messing with me." He puffed his chest out in pride and raised his eyebrows at the other man. For a split second, a dark cloud passed across Victor's eyes, then it was gone. Shame was trying to rear its ugly head again, as Mac's mention of "two goons" brought memories of Walker, and to a greater extent, Gant, to the surface. Victor had thought he'd already once and for all stopped second-guessing himself over the incident with the two guards since he had worked so hard to vanquish the very personal doubts that he'd felt. Of course, as he found out now, he was only deluding himself. Victor gave himself a mental shake and even though he wasn't too sure he wanted to hear about it, he asked, "So what happened to them?" Mac pulled off his bloodied t-shirt and dropped it in their laundry bag before starting on his account of the encounter he had with Clyde and John. As he talked, Mac started dressing and then ran a comb his hair. He finished by saying, "The good news is I found out who Carter's podmate was and his pod number too." He had to grin as he was still pleased with himself and the fact that not only had he gotten some useful information, but even managed to 'kick a little butt' while in the pursuit of the truth. When he glanced at the large clock on the wall in the courtyard, he saw that he still had twenty minutes to go before he had to report to the social worker's office. He finished cleaning himself up by quickly rinsing the toothpaste out of his mouth. Walking over to Victor's bunk, Mac jumped up to sit next to him, sitting so close that their legs and arms were slightly touching. He nudged Victor with his right elbow. "So," he inquired, "What do you think? Not bad for a day's work, huh?" "About what?" Victor asked quietly. Mac turned his head and looked at Victor, who was staring down unblinkingly at the papers in his lap. He finally noticed that Victor seemed to have gone through a mood change. He had been quiet when Mac had entered the cell, but at least he had seemed to be upbeat. Now, in a span of only a few minutes he had transformed into a quietly depressed state. "About the information I got from Zeke about Carter and my deduction about the men who tried to jump me. What's the matter, Vic? I do something wrong? Are you mad at me for fighting?" Mac asked. He continued to stare at Victor intently, though the other man still did not raised his eyes from his lap. A small shudder ran through Victor, and he fought to reign in the unavoidable thoughts about the rape. Goddamn it, STOP. Stop already. Now's not the time for this shit!, Victor chastised himself. He then raised his head to meet Mac's eyes and mustered enough energy to paste a wan smile on his face. In an effort to convince his partner he was okay, he replied, "No. No, Mac you didn't do anything wrong. I was just...thinking. That's all." Victor flapped the papers in his hand briskly as a mild distraction from the tense moment, wanting to change the subject. "Actually, I already know about Carter's podmate. I got it from the info I managed to hack from of the prison's computer system. I was just starting to read about Carter's stay in the infirmary when you walked in. Of course there's no mention of who put him there, but the records are really detailed. Those bastards really did a number on him." Victor licked his lips thoughtfully and looked back down at the papers he held. "While you're gone, I'll read the rest of this stuff and see if any of it makes sense." He released the white sheets and they fell gently into his lap. Ignoring Victor's attempts to change the focus from himself to the reports on Carter, Mac went back to his original line of questioning, "Vic, we can talk about those papers over dinner. Seriously, is something the matter?" Mac was sure that something was bothering his partner even though Victor was shaking his head 'no'. He wasn't buying the other man's silent denial; something had to be wrong. "Come on, Vic, what is it? You know you can tell me." Vic hesitated for a long while before speaking up. "I...It's just...." But he couldn't finish the sentence, he was feeling completely overwhelmed; Vic simply couldn't bring himself to confess what had happened. Instead, he tried for another cop-out again. "Mac, it's nothing. Nothing's wrong, 'kay?" Despite the firmness in his tone voice, once again, he couldn't meet the other man's eyes. Shit. I thought we were done with this crap days ago. He frowned slightly a second later. I can't tell him. Mac wouldn't understand, especially after he'd just beat the shit out of two guys with knives to protect himself. Oh Christ, I didn't even try to fight Gant. Victor's lips were stretched in a tight, thin line. His eyes began to focus on an imaginary spot on the wall across from where they sat. He wanted so badly to talk to Mac about Gant and the rape, but he couldn't put the words together. He didn't know how or even where to begin talking about it. Victor knew that burying it wasn't working, all that was doing was making him even jumpier than usual. And with Walker playing his head games, he was afraid that he would eventually snap and do something really rash. He knew it was good therapy to talk, so why couldn't just tell his partner? "Victor, don't lie to me. You can't. I know you. And I know when something's wrong. Maybe if you tell me what it is I'll be able to help." Mac looked at Victor expectantly, waiting for him to reply. The other agent did turn his head to look directly at Mac at that. He had a troubled expression on his face; his green eyes clouded with apprehension and anxiety. Victor looked at Mac sadly for another second before turning back to stare at the wall, continuing to stubbornly hold onto his silence. "Okay, Victor, if you won't tell me. I'll just have to guess." Mac had his suspicions from day one, but for the sake of Vic, he had pretended to believe his partner's fabrication of events. Presently, he moved away from Victor's side and shuffled on the bed so that he was facing the other man's profile. He reached out to put a friendly hand on Vic's forearm, thinking carefully about the words he chose for what he was about to say. "Vic, that first day, when you were taken away from the rest of the group...I already...guessed that the guards...." Mac hesitated, wanting to be careful in how he said the next bit, "Did they force themselves on you?" The reaction from the other man was dramatic. Vic jerked his head violently to look straight into Mac's eyes with a horrified expression on his face. How did he know? "How did you know?" he asked out loud. "I was just guessing, but it was an educated guess." Mac squeezed Victor's arm for encouragement gently. "The way you were beaten up, all the bruises, I was already starting to think along those lines. But when I saw the blood when we were in the showers, I knew that something more had to have gone on. Something more than just a 'rough' cavity search." As he said that, Mac thought he could feel the tension draining away from Victor's body. "What happened, Victor? Talking about it will help," Mac stated sympathetically. Willing to wait in silent patience for as long as it took Victor to say what had to be said. After a few moments Victor cleared his throat and began, "It was Gant, not Walker...after I was put in that room...and after Walker beat the crap out of me," Vic began in a hoarse voice, "Gant had him tether me with a leather cord to the wall before he left. Gant removed my leg chains...but my cuffs were still on, chained to my waist. I...was effectively restrained. I...couldn't do anything. Gant...after he searched me...he...he...." Victor's mouth went dry; he was having a hard time forming the next string of words. Mac may have guessed what came next, but admitting it was much harder than Victor had thought it would be. And though he tried to raise some moisture in his mouth, it was to no avail. Victor took a deep shuddering breath before blurting out in a heart-wrenching voice, "Yes. Gant forced himself on me. He raped me." He immediately followed that by biting out in an angry and tormented, "And I couldn't even fight him. Fuck! I didn't do anything to stop him!" He ran his hands hard down his face and groaned, "I can't stand it. I...I've got to get out of here!" With that, Victor jumped up off the bunk, flung the door open and hurried away. He didn't know or care where he was going. He just couldn't stay in the pod any longer. After confessing to Mac, the air had suddenly become stale and he felt like he could no longer breath. Walking quickly with long strides, Victor went toward the doors that would take him out of B block and into the rec yard for some fresh air. He shuffled his feet as he waited impatiently for the guards to let him pass. He had to get outside, the air inside was cloying, making him feel claustrophobic. Just when Victor didn't think he could stand it a second more, the door buzzed, indicating that it was unlocked. He pushed through and ran to the next set of doors that would allow him to escape out into the frigid and damp outdoors. Once outside, he hurried to the opposite side of the yard where he could be alone. He grasped the chain-link fence with both hands and rattled the cold metal in rage and regret. The day was damp and chilly, there were very few cons out in the yard today. Victor looked around himself quickly to make sure he truly was alone. The cons that were on the yard were cloistered around in small groups, all of them doing their own things, nobody was even really looking over at him. Satisfied, he then leaned forward and rested his head against the cold fence. He continued gripping the metal wires tightlyóknuckles white from the strength of his handsóhot tears of shame and frustration fell unbidden and unwanted from Victor's eyes. Walker had been watching Victor and Mac's pod from across the wide hall of Block B. Even though he was a little off to the side, from his vantage point, he still had a good view of the small room through the glass door. In the whole time he had been at Kensington Pen, he had never stooped so low as to spy on the prisoners. Then again, no prisoner had ever made him feel like he did now until Victor had come to the prison. Because of the way he felt, whenever he looked at Victor, it made him want to beat the shit out of the other man, while at the same time he wanted nothing more than to use his hands to explore Victor's body. The conflicting emotions warring within him caused him nothing but frustration. He had a job to do, and he would do it; he had, after all been paid handsomely to perform his duties. Unfortunately he couldn't have predicted Victor's presence, which in turn made it that much harder for Walker to only perform his assigned duties. Walker knew that beating him up and messing with his mind wasn't going to earn him any bonus points with Victor in the end, but he couldn't help himself. He never said he was a saint. He actually resented the fact that he was attracted to Victor and even more the fact that he could not stay away from him. Walker stunned even himself when he talked Wang into changing block shifts with him just so he could keep an eye on Victor. And now, the more he'd watched the two men chatting in the cell, the angrier he felt towards Mac. He desperately wished that he could hear what the two men were saying to one another. As he stood there musing, his envy for Mac growing by the minute, Victor took him completely by surprise when he suddenly jumped up from his bunk and made haste to get out of the pod. Victor had swept by Walker not ten feet from where the guard stood, but the man never even saw Walker as he was so intent on getting out of the pod. Walker watched Victor retreat, and when the other man went though the doors, where he could no longer see him, the guard turned back to the pod and watched Mac as he sat, unmoving on top of Victor's bed. The guard wanted to follow Victor out of the doors and into the courtyard, just so he could keep a closer eye on his 'subject', but unfortunately he still had a job to do on top of his other 'special' duties. And one of them was making sure that the cons got to where they were going when they were supposed to be there. Walker pulled his stick out of his belt loop and went over to the pod. Mac had an appointment and the guard would see that he kept it. Mac sat shocked as he watched Victor's retreating back go farther and farther away from the cell, the block and from himself. Dumbstruck by the truth, as well as by Vic's emotional confession, he was unable to bring himself to get up from the bunk and chase Victor down. If only his guess was wrong! He sat quietly and raged at the injustice of Victor's treatment, and eventually began debasing himself for not doing more to help his partner out on that first day. Maybe if I had kicked up some trouble, they wouldn't have taken him at all... they might've taken me instead. I could've handled it. Mac shook his head. Thinking that way would not help Victor at all. By the time he had pulled himself together enough to think about going after Victor, it was too late. His partner was already gone. Mac thought about finding him, but decided in the end that it probably would be better to just give him some space for the time being. Vic obviously wanted to be alone for a while, and it might even do him some good to be able to gather in his thoughts. He continued to sit on the bunk, deeply submerged in his thoughts, oblivious to Walker who was strolling by. The guard looked at his watch and then banged his stick against glass door of the pod, and when Mac looked up, startled by the loud noise, the guard opened the door and said harshly to Mac, "Get your ass over to counselors office, Jones, ASAP! You're late!" Mac started in surprise; he had completely forgotten about meeting LiAnne until Walker's rude interruption pulled him from his funk and reminded him. He didn't really want to go anywhere at this moment, as only Victor was on his mind, but clearly Walker was not going to let him blow off his appointment. So, sighing heavily, he slowly gathered up himself and headed over to the counselor's office. LiAnne Morton's Office "Morton?" Mac asked incredulously. LiAnne only rolled her eyes and shook her head in agreement. "Given to me by the very same idiots who gave you and Vic the lame aliases of Smith and Jones. Do I look anything like a Morton? I think NOT. I had to come up with some excuse about it being my stepfather's last name." However, she had initially chuckled when she saw her cover name. She was grateful at least that it wasn't some Samoan name that would end up screwing her up, like last time. "So how are you two making out?" she asked amicably. Mac turned to face her and blinked at the double entendre. When LiAnne finally got a good look at Mac, who had busy checking her office out, she gasped, "What the hell happened to your face?" He only waved his hand vaguely in response. LiAnne frowned as she really wanted to know, but since it was obvious Mac wasn't in any discomfort, she decided to let it go for now. She didn't want to waste her time since the appointment did have a time limit. "Sorry I didn't see you sooner, but the Director thought that it would be better if I didn't come in too soon. She decided that she won't be in at all; that is, unless of course you need a good lawyer." LiAnne smiled, but Mac was not really listening to her. He was looking at her all right, but his focus had shifted and he was only staring blankly. Eventually his gaze wandered. LiAnne's 'office' had all kinds of pamphlets and booklets neatly stacked all over the place. The title of one caught Mac's eye: 'Self-healing from the Trauma of Sexual Abuse.' No doubt it was meant for a survivor of childhood abuse, but it was enough to make Mac's mind wander. His thoughts once again turned back to Victor, Walker and Gant. He had been wanting to see LiAnne to fill her in on the progress of the investigation, but now, after what had just happened, the investigation hardly seemed that important anymore. He knew he sure as hell didn't feel like talking about it anymore, and for Vic's sake, he wished that they could get out of this joint as soon as possible. Being sexually assaulted went way beyond what is required by the call of duty. Mac felt an incredible pull in his gut, and the urge to go back and be with Victor, to just talk with him so that he can get his mind off of the incident. He was distracted by the belief that Victor probably needed him most at this very moment. What if he were to return to the pod in hopes of talking more only to find he wasn't there? "Hello? Mac, are you in there?" LiAnne frowned at Mac. "What's the matter? Have you even heard a word I've said?" "Oh, sorry. It's nothing. We're fine. Great. So I guess you want to know what's going on with the case?" Mac hastily changed the subject, wanting to hurry through his meeting with LiAnne. "I do, but what's the rush? You only just got here!" LiAnne had thought that Mac would relish their time together, after being cooped up in such close quarters with Victor, and around all those other men. She'd thought he'd be drooling over her by now, extremely grateful for her presence. "No rush," he replied but then caught the look on her face. LiAnne knew when she was being lied to, so Mac decided to change tactics and give her a part of the truth. "Look, it's just that Victor and I were going to 'visit' Joe Carter's former podmate and see what he had to say, so I'm just sort of anxious about that. You know, the sooner we find out about Carter, the sooner we ditch this place." Mac reached out and grabbed a can of Pepsi from Lianne's desk. After he had opened it up and taken a drink, he continued, "Seems that Joe Carter ran 'afoul' of this group of four guys. The guys jumped him and messed him up pretty good, and once Carter got out of the hospital wing, he went after one of the members and beat the guy up. A friend of Carter's remember hearing the guys throwing around words like 'revenge', and 'making Joe disappear'. Two weeks after that, Carter did disappear. As luck would have it, two of those four guys were the same ones who came after me today." Mac held up his hand to interrupt when he saw the look of shock on LiAnne's face. "Good news is that since I managed to fight them off and piss them off, if these mooks actually had anything to do with Carter, maybe we'll get lucky and they might try to get rid of me." Mac took another swallow of the cold soft drink, waiting for LiAnne to argue with his logic. Instead, she simply pulled open the top drawer of her desk and took out a pamphlet titled 'Coping with Narcotics Withdrawal and Temptation'. She slid it across the desk to Mac and said, "Open." After Mac did so, she continued, "We've managed to ID another body, his name was Martin Kendle, and his last known whereabouts was solitary confinement,.. in this prison." LiAnne reached back in and pulled out two semi-sweet dark chocolate candy bars from her drawer, pushing them across the desk to Mac as well. "These are for you two. All the information's inside the pamphlet, none of the guards will hassle you about it. The literature will be enough cover. And plus, these visits are confidential so they won't insist on reading through it. I figured Vic would want to read about the new body too." Mac eyed the semi-sweet chocolate bars, knowing full well that it was Victor's favorite type of chocolate. "Uh, LiAnne? How about me? Hey, next time, can you bring me some peanut butter cups?" Mac grinned at the sound of his own petulant voice. LiAnne smiled softly at Mac, suddenly realizing that she missed him and Victor very much. The three of them were rarely apart for more than a day because of their jobs and now, who knows how many more days they'll be in this place. "Next time, I promise," she replied almost tenderly, knowing full well he would eat one of the chocolate bars anyway even though he complained about it. Mac stood up, ready to go. He picked up the pamphlet, folded it, and shoved it into one back pocket. He reached down and grabbed the two candy bars, shoving them into his other back pocket. "I gotta go LiAnne, to show this to Victor. We'll let you know what we find out next time." He walked to the door intending to leave, but stopped when LiAnne informed him, "I see Victor tomorrow around the same time." He nodded his head. "I'll tell him." He turned his back to her and grabbed the knob, but she interrupted him again. "Oh, hey, the Director's informant told her that Victor had run into a little trouble with the commanding officer. He said that Vic ended up getting roughed up some. What's that all about?" LiAnne asked, slightly concerned. Mac turned back to face her with a serious look on his face. "I think I'll let him tell you that. Thanks for the candy, LiAnne," he replied before pulling open the door and hurrying through it, anxious to be away from LiAnne and her questions. As Mac walked back to the block, he wondered just who exactly the informant was and how he knew that Vic had a problem with Gant. How much does the leather freak really know about Victor and Gant?, he thought as a scowl appeared on his face. The rain, which had been falling softly all this time, started coming down a little bit harder. Not that Victor noticed. He stood with his back to the yard, staring out through the fence, mesmerized by a group of geese that were lazily eating and grooming themselves in the field beyond the prison. The tears that had fallen so quickly earlier, dried up just as fast. No longer weighed down by the heavy burden of secrecy, Victor, was now just too embarrassed to go back to the pod. He stood outside in the freezing chill of the rain, delaying the inevitable. But he knew that the buzzer would sound eventually, and he would be forced to go back inside. Until then, he decided to just stay rooted to where he was. Every so often he would look over his shoulder, just to make sure that no big con with even bigger ideas would try to sneak up on him. As Victor glanced over his shoulder presently, he saw that everyone seem to be actually ignoring him, with the exception of a fairly young looking inmate who was walking in Victor's general direction. The young man posed no threat to the agent, his build was very slight, so Vic turned back and continued watching the geese. He wished that he could be over there with them, on the other side of the fence where freedom was, instead of inside a prison that he didn't belong in in the first place. He was beginning to feel like a real prisoner. Not deterred by the fact that the other man was pointedly ignoring him, Matt never faltered in his step toward the agent. He had first seen Victor in the hallway on the way to the cafeteria four days ago, when he had been busy letting another con know that invading hands were not welcome. He had wanted to go up to Vic right then and there and talk to him, but then "Big" Eddie came along so Matt had no choice but to walk with his bunk-mate to the cafeteria. Eddie was jealous of anyone who even so much as looked at him, so he knew that he had to be very careful in his approach of the new man. He didn't want Eddie to get mad and wind up getting Victor hurt as a end result of that time-bomb-like temper, like he had done to other guys who had foolishly ignored his podmate's warnings and not stayed away from Matt. Even Matt himself was not safe from his roommate's mood swings. One minute Eddie was happy and kind and in another enraged and violent. Eddie was in prison because he had beaten his wife one to many times, resulting in her death. Matt hated Big Eddie with a passion, hated being the one to bear the brunt of his brutish temper and loutish behavior. He had even contemplated killing Eddie in his sleep, but he knew that little act of mutiny would tack another load of years to his sentence, and that was something he could not afford now. He had just over a year left on his sentence, then he would be able to go home to his young wife and daughter and away from this living hell. He would be able to live a normal life again. The nightmare would end soon he would tell himself; all he needed was patience, which he had plenty of. Matt cleared his thoughts of Eddie when he came to stand beside Victor. He wasn't sure if Victor would recognize him or not, it had been so many years already since they had last seen each other. But he was very glad to see Vic's face and he welcomed the other man's presence. Victor saw the young man from the corner of his eye. He didn't know what the kid wanted but whatever it was, he had a feeling he wouldn't be interested either way. "Excuse me, Victor Mansfield? Constable Mansfield?" Matt asked shyly, knowing full well that this was the man that he had known in a former life, a man who had once saved his life. At the sound of those words, Victor whirled around violently and looked at the inmate, his eyes wide with horror. Resembling a deer caught in a car's headlights. SHIT! OH SHIT! He knows me! This can't be happening! Part Nine The 'kid', or rather the young man stood in the cold rain, staring at the alarmed man before him, expectantly waiting for confirmation of what he already knew was true. Victor swallowed hard and only when he had himself firmly under control did he dare to riposte, "Listen kid, I don't know you, and I sure as hell don't know any one named Victor Mansfield, unless he's the cop who busted me. So get out of here," as he turned away from the fair-haired inmate Victor said scathingly, "I want to be left alone." He was frantically racking his brain trying to place the face, but he couldn't think straight, he must have busted or ticketed hundreds of skells over his years in the police force. This kid could be anybody, he hoped a gruff manner and a rude reply would be enough to get rid of the 'kid'. If not, then there was going to be a problem. A really big problem. Undaunted by Victor's brusque behavior, Matt smiled at the back of Victor's soaked prison issue T-shirt. Of course, he's under cover. There's no way Mr.Mansfield would be in here because he broke the law. Matt, nodded his head to himself in understanding, He's working a case and can't risk having his cover blown. Matt knew what he had to say, so he cleared his throat and began again, "I know your Victor Mansfield, " he held up his hands in a 'stop' gesture, preventing Victor from interrupting him. "Don't worry," he threw in hastily when he saw the angry look on the agents face. "I won't tell anyone who you are. I promise. After all you saved my life, I would never do anything to hurt you, ...ever." Matt finished up softly. Now Victor was twice as confused as before, "Am I supposed to know you?" he asked, dropping the guise of not knowing who Victor Mansfield was. Matt shoved his hands deep in his pockets, inexplicably shy, he looked up at Victor, his eyes wide and clouded with emotion, "I'm Matt Vandenburg, er ...I mean I'm a Vandenburg now, but my last name used to be August. Mathew August." He stuck out his hand, waiting for Victor to take it. Victor looked at Matt and then at the extended hand, and suddenly realization dawned on him, Mathew August, an abandoned child, turned street kid due to circumstances beyond his control, who unwittingly got swept up into a world of drugs and prostitution. Victor had been working a 'sweep' of the known neighborhood where the male hookers plied their trade, and fortunately for Mathew- though he wouldn't have agreed at the time—Victor had arrested Matt for solicitation, thus tearing a terrified teenager off the streets and setting him down the road to a life in which the boy had always dreamed of living, but never thought he could have. Victor, hesitantly, reached out to the young man and grasped his hand, then to his complete surprise, Matt launched himself into Victor's arms and held on tight to the former police detective. Victor, given no real choice, reluctantly returned the hug, squeezing the thin, young man in his arms back. He could hear Matt crying softly, and not sure of what to say to the emotional young felon, Victor opted for just patting his back gently. After a few more seconds, Matt collected himself and pulled away. Wiping his nose with the back of his hand, Matt laughed nervously, some what embarrassed at his emotional outburst. He wished that he hadn't cried in front of Victor, but he couldn't help himself, "I'm sorry to get all PMS on you, " he chuckled nervously again, "but you don't know how good it feels to know that you're here. Your the one guy in this place that I KNOW I can trust. Believe me that's big deal." Victor smiled back and, putting a friendly arm around Matt, led him towards the secluded bench that stood by itself on the far part of the yard. They both sat down, and Victor said, "I know what it's like not to have anybody to trust. Boy, do I ever know that. But you've got to promise me that you won't breathe a word about me, or else I'm dead meat." Matt was horrified, he would never, ever put Victor in such jeopardy, "I promise, Mr. Mansfield,... " Victor cringed slightly when Matt, for the second time, used his proper last name. "Please, Matt, just call me Victor, it'll be easier that way." Victor patted Matt's knee reassuringly, letting the young man know that he trusted in him, that he believed Matt wouldn't reveal who he really was. Of course, Victor had no choice but to trust Matt, considering the young inmate already knew who he really was. "Okay,.. Victor. I promise, your secrets safe with me. I ,... " Matt got a bit choked up, but then he pulled himself together and continued on, "I ..You saved my life Victor. I could never hurt you." Matt brought his hands up and he knuckled away a few tears that had escaped from his big blue eyes. Victor was surprised that Matt still remembered him, he had thought at the time, that Matt would forget about him once he got to the foster home. It was nice to know that he was still remembered for doing something nice, but as for saving his life, Victor was sure that the young man was exaggerating his part in things, curious, Victor asked, "How did I save your life? If I recall correctly, at the time you weren't that impressed with me 'fucking sticking my nose in where it wasn't wanted', as you called it. " Victor laughed softly. "Listen, Matt I need to talk to you about some really important stuff,î Victor had not forgotten about needing to speak to Carter's former podmate, he had merely pushed it to the back of his mind. He had Vandenburg right here after all, besides he was dying to know why Matt credited him with saving his life. "But all that can wait for a bit, I want to know what happened after I arrested you." Victor leaned back and listened to Matt's story. "Do you remember arresting me?" Matt knew that he personally would never forget it. He had never been so frightened. To cover up his fright, he lashed out angrily at those around him, specifically turning his acid tongue on Victor, doing everything he could to aggravate the vice cop. Victor nodded and said "mm hmm." Matt continued on, "Well, I know I gave you a really hard time while you interviewed me, using my big mouth to yap it up and all, but I was totally scared, scared shitless that I was going to go to juvenile lock up. Or worse, be released into Tony's -my pimp-" reminded Matt to Victor, " custody. I knew he would be really pissed off about losing a good money earner like me for the night,.." Matt had ceased to look at Victor, and while he talked, his gaze went to somewhere just beyond Victor, outside of the fence, and Victor knew, that Matt was seeing the boy that he used to be. Then, the spell broke and Matt looked back at Victor. "Any ways," he shrugged, "when you said that you could get me into a foster home instead of jail if I promised to go through a drug treatment program, well I know I was less than grateful..at the time..," Matt chuckled softly, "But it was the only choice I had really, so I took it. I thought for sure the father would be some sort of perv and the wife would make me do all the grunt work around the house... But you know what?" Matt asked a silent Victor. "What?" replied Victor. "The home and the family in it turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. For once there was a real fairy tale ending." Victor raised his eyebrows questioning, intrigued, "How did it turn out Matt?" "Well, I guess you know that the foster parents had four real daughters, but no sons, " Victor nodded yes, he knew the foster parents reputation quite well, which was why he thought Matt would do well with the family, they were a good family with plenty of love for every one of their children, foster kids included. Matt turned away from Victor and looked down at his feet, seemingly speaking to his sneakers. "They welcomed me with open arms, and didn't care about the things I had to do while living on the streets, the stealin', the hooking. They helped me kick the drugs with love, and hard work. Even their daughters genuinely liked me. So, before I knew it, I was back in school, and a year later they adopted me." Matt's eyes filled with tears again, at the thought of his beloved family, "Me. They wanted me to be their son, and the girls wanted me to be their little brother. I was so happy. No one's ever loved me that much, including my own parents.." A solitary tear made its way down Matt's cheek, unnoticed, he continued on, "because of you Victor, I have two loving parents and four beautiful sisters. I've had a good life, and because of you I call the Vandenburg's mom and dad." Matt wiped away the tears. It was obvious to Vic that Matt missed his family, dearly. Clearly his emotional attachment to them was as strong as any bond a child could have to a 'natural' parent, so Victor had to ask, "If everything was so perfect, how did you end up in here?" Matt who had wiped his eyes clear, replied frankly, "I'm married now. For just over three years." Victor congratulated him, and Matt accepted his good wishes, then went on, "My wife gave birth ten months after we were married, to the most beautiful girl in the world." Matt looked out into the yard, wistful, "On the day she was born, I went out with my friends, I had just recently turned 19 and could get into the pubs, any ways, I ended up getting hammered, and like the fool I was, drove home. While I was driving, I hit an old man in a cross walk, he died five days later in the very same hospital my daughter had been born in." Matt turned back to Victor, " I plead no contest to third degree Vehicular manslaughter and was sentenced to four years in prison. I deserve it too. My parents and my wife stood by me, the whole way, even now, I always have them visiting. But it's not the same as having freedom." Matt looked out into the yard and said quietly, "Did you know that I've haven't held my daughter since before her first birthday, she's three now, and all she knows is that her daddy 'lives on the other side of the glass." Matt crossed his arms in front of himself, "That's what hurts the most. Not being able to hold my wife and my daughter. But in another year I'll be out, and no matter what, I will never ever come back to this hell hole." Finished Matt with conviction. Matt fell silent, thinking, Victor could tell, about his family and how much he loved them. And as much as he would have loved to leave Matt alone with his thoughts, Victor had a job to do, so he broke the silence, and broached the subject of Joe Carter. "Matt, " consoled Victor first, "I'm sorry about your wife and daughter." "Don't feel sorry for me Victor. I deserve it, a man died because of me." Matt did not turn around to look at Victor when he spoke, but kept his gaze on a group of men across the field, huddled under the covered patio area. The light was fading fast, and in the twilight, Matt thought he could see Big Eddie amongst the men, who were, no doubt, making some sort of drug deal. Victor looked out over the field too, only he was searching for Mac, and to his relief, Victor couldn't see his partner in the small crowd of people milling around. Thankfully, Mac had not come looking for him. Victor turned his thoughts from Mac to the job, and why he was here in the first place, and decided, in a bold move, to lay all of his cards on the table for Matt, "Look Matt, as you've probably already guessed, I'm in here undercover." Vic didn't think he needed to get into the why's and wherefore's of whom exactly he was working for or with, Matt would just assume that he was still a cop, and it was better to let him think that. Matt turned to face Victor, and then it was Victor's turn to look away, out into the field, "I'm investigating the disappearance of Joey Carter. And the best way to do that is from the inside," Victor had already decided not to mention Mac, he didn't want his partners safety endangered any more than it already was. "I already know that he was your podmate, is there anything you can tell me about his movements on the day he disappeared? Even if it seems insignificant, it might be helpful." Victor finished. Matt thought for a minute, then shook his head as if to clear it, "Well he was having some problems with 'the Musketeers', but I guess you already know all that?" he asked. Victor nodded his assent, so Matt went on, "Well the only thing that I can think to add to that whole story is that on the day he went missing, Gant came to see him, right in our pod." Matt swallowed, "That's not something Gant usually does. If he wants to talk to you, he sends that rottweiler of his, Walker, to haul your ass to his office. But this time Gant came in personally and told me to fuck off, so I did, I went to the one of the tables in the centre of the block and watched them through the glass." Matt squinted his eyes, recalling the events, "They were having some argument too. Gant was screaming and hollering, waving his arms around, and Joey was shouting back. I don't know what they said to each other, but Gant shouted something, and then Joey didn't seem to speak after that, then they both left the pod, together." Matt grimaced, "I never saw Joey again after that, and when I asked Gant about it a few days later, all he said to me was that Joey was in the hole, and when he finished his stretch in there then he was going to be transferred out, to a different facility, for his own safety. On account that the 'four Musketeers' had it in for him." Matt shrugged, "I didn't want to ask too many questions, not that Gant would answer them any ways." "Then I got Big Eddie for a podmate, and from there on in I had my own problems to worry about. Like hoping that Eddie doesn't kill me while fucking me." Matt snorted, disgusted with his current situation, embarrassed, he couldn't look at Victor, he didn't know why he had confessed that last bit to Victor, except that maybe he felt a little more secure knowing he had one true friend in this place, a friend who would never intentionally hurt him. Victor reached out and rubbed Matt's shoulder gently, the sky had grown dark, the large lights in the yard were already on, Vic couldn't recall even, when they had been turned on. "Do you want me to talk to this Eddie character and get him to back off? I will if you want me too." Victor, feeling helpless because of his own situation with Gant, wanted nothing more than to take some control, even though the circumstances had nothing to do with him. Besides Victor was itching to kick the shit out of someone, and if it couldn't be his personal tormentor Gant, than Big Eddie would do nicely. Victor wanted to help out Matt, anyway he could. Matt smiled wearily, suddenly looking older than his twenty-one years, "No, it's all right. Really." Matt implored when Victor gave him a dubious look, "I have just over a year to go, and all I have to do is put up with it and bide my time, then I'll be out of this shit hole, and on my way to making a fresh start with my wife and my daughter. But thanks anyway, it'll be nice to know that I have one friend I can count on in here, even if it is just for a little while." Victor shrugged his shoulders in acquiesce, Matt, at least, had a positive disposition, all things considered. They sat in a companionable silence for a few more minutes, then the yard bell rang, and it was time, all too soon in Victor's opinion, to go inside. Victor and Matt stood in unison, Victor looked at the clock against the far wall, he couldn't read the time, he was much too far away for that, but he knew, by the ringing of the yard bell, that it was 5:35, dinner would be in twenty-five minutes. Both men crossed the dark yard, and when they reached the doors to go in, Matt turned and hugged Victor again, saying, "Thanks for letting me cry on your shoulder, I guess I needed that." Victor returned the hug to the man he knew as a boy, back, "Any time Matt, anytime. If you think of anything else come and see me I'm in pod... " Matt interrupted, "I know your pod. Maybe I could come by just to pass the time, would that be okay?" Victor smiled, "Sure, anytime." Then Matt opened the door and went inside, Victor following him through it. In the darkened shadows, unseen by either Victor or Matt, stood 'Big Eddie'. And he was seething with jealously over the way he perceived Matt to be 'fawning' over Victor, an inmate he did not know. Eddie knew that Matt had been with Victor all after noon, in fact he had seen them meet up in the far part of the yard. He watched as they hugged each other, than sit together, talking all the time. Eddie had also witnessed the other inmate touching Matt, on his knee, on his shoulder. Eddie was enraged at the way Matt allowed it to happen. When the bell had sounded out, Eddie hid amongst the shadows, witnessing yet another hug between the men, and that sewed it up for Eddie, obviously Matt was fooling around with the new con... Well first he would teach Matt a lesson, then the new guy, Victor something or other. Eddie pushed him self away from the wall and followed the men, shortly after their 'display' outside. Once inside the men said a simple goodbye to each other and parted ways. Eddie narrowed his eyes at the back of Victor, a million ways to shank the man who would dare steal his lover running over and over through his brain. Victor after having said his goodbyes to Matt, headed for his pod, walking slowly, hoping that Mac would not be in the small room, waiting for his return. Victor walked right by Walker, he looked the guard in the eyes long enough to note his presence, but he did not speak to him. Victor didn't think he could deal with the 'rottweiler's'—as Matt so aptly put it—head games right then. Victor strolled past the guard and went right into the small room, acutely aware that the guard was watching him the whole way. Victor entered the cell, shut the door behind himself and leaned against it. Mac immediately jumped up from his cot, he had been so worried about Victor, and where he was. Judging by his drenched state, Mac guessed, correctly, that Victor had been outdoors in the rain the whole time. "Where have you been Vic? Christ, I've been worried?" Mac couldn't believe that he was actually questioning Victor and his whereabouts, treating Victor like he was a teenager who had brought his father's car home late. Victor avoided looking at Mac, he was still embarrassed about his earlier disclosure. So he didn't answer Mac's question immediately, instead, he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing out the wetness. He peeled off his now see-through T-shirt and grabbed his towel, drying himself off he finally answered, "I've only been in the yard. I thought that you might be in the dining hall already." Victor hung up his towel and still shirtless, turned to face Mac, "What did LiAnne have to say?" Mac blew out his breath slowly, unaware that he had been holding it, just the sight of Victor shirtless, got his pulse racing. Mac sat back down and grabbed his pillow, putting it in his lap, the gestured looked innocent enough, but he was really, once again, hiding his fledgling erection. However he spoke casually, like there was nothing wrong, "Oh, nothing new, but you have an appointment to see her tomorrow. She sent some chocolate for you. It's on your pillow." Victor smiled at the mention of chocolate, he was relieved that Mac, apparently wasn't going to make him drudge up the sordid details Gant and the rape. Victor rummaged through his small locker and pulled out a fresh T-shirt, wincing slightly at a pain he felt at the back of his shoulder blade when he moved his arm to pull the T-shirt on. Ignoring the discomfort, he said to Mac, "I talked to Matt Vandenburg today." Victor went over to the mirror and looked in, running a quick comb through his short hair he turned around, "Turns out I arrested him once." Mac cried out in alarm but Victor went on, "Don't' worry, he's a stand up guy, I'll tell you the story after supper" then as if on cue, the dinner bell rang, signaling the men out of their pod. Mac tossed his pillow aside, lucky or him, his erection had dissipated. Victor held the door open and followed Mac through. Neither man noticing the poisonous looks Victor was getting from Big Eddie... Part Ten Victor and Mac sat in silence respectively, at their assigned table in the large cafeteria. Mac, finally looking up at Victor, said quietly, "Over there, " suggesting to Victor that he should look over his shoulder, and once Victor had, Mac went on to say, "That quad of mooks behind me are the "four musketeers." Mac gave Victor a large grin and raised his eyebrows, "The two with the matching black eyes are the ones who went after me earlier." He speared one greasy sausage with his fork and bit it in half, chewing vigorously. Victor laughed out loud, then covered his mouth. At least, he thought, they look worse than Mac does. Both men ignored the shooting glares that were coming their way from Mac's would-be attackers and went back to eating their dinner in a companionable silence. The dinner hour passed quickly, even though Mac and Vic never really spoke more than a few words to each other. It appeared, to those eating around the pair of agents, that the two men were angry with each other. But anger wasn't a really factor in the men's silence towards each other so much as was the awkwardness. Simply put, neither Vic or Mac knew what to say to each other. On Mac's part, he had decided to let Victor broach the delicate topic which had, earlier in the day, caused his partner to dash out of the pod abruptly; only if he chose to do so. And Victor, not knowing the right way in which to bring up the painful subject, chose silence as his way to cloak his shame and humiliation. Owing to the fact that Victor and Mac were attractive men, and still new enough to cause a great deal of attention, the unusual quiet between the men did not go unnoticed by the other cons who, were dutifully whispering while simultaneously shoveling bland, but healthy food into their mouths. The cons in the immediate vicinity of the two handsome men whispered innuendo back and forth about Mac and Victor having had a 'lover's quarrel', and that there was 'trouble in paradise.' Hardened felons snickered quietly to each other over the unintentional soap opera, the agents were unwittingly providing. Both men were, by now, used to looks followed by whispering. It still bothered Victor to be in the centre of attention but he had been managing lately to dismiss the other con's looks a lot more easily. Victor and Mac, unaware of the entertainment they were providing to the other's at the nearby tables, had tuned out the gossiping that was going on all around them. Each man had his own thoughts to deal with. Logically, Victor knew that at some point, he was going to have to bring up Gant and the assault, and talk things over with Mac, and not just the stuff about he and Gant, Victor would have to tell Mac about Matt Vandenburg and what he had said too. But for now, Victor just wanted to sit and not have think about anything, there would be plenty of time to discuss matters when they were locked in for the night. Victor was, however, pleased that Mac evidently had for now, decided to leave things alone as well. As the men sat and ate, Victor ruminated about both Mac and LiAnne, on how opposite they were to each other. LiAnne would have picked at Victor's 'scabs' until she got the truth from him, no matter what. Whereas Mac, was willing to let things slide, until such time when YOU felt like talking about things. Then he would be there, all ears and understanding, willing to help if that was what you wanted from him. Victor unconsciously smiled into his mashed potatoes when he thought of Mac. Mac, tired of the total silence, laid his spoon down across the plate and tossing his paper napkin down after the spoon, asked Victor casually, "Want to catch an hour in the weight room before lock-in?" Victor looked up from his mostly untouched meal, a tiny smile still playing around his mouth, "Yeah, that sounds good. I could use a few rounds with the weight bag." He shoved the plate away from in front of himself. Immediately following supper the men headed straight to the prison's weight room, and once in there, each agent went to his favorite area and worked out vigorously, uninterrupted for the next hour. Mac preferred to lift weights, and Victor chose to beat the hell of out of the heavy bag suspended from the ceiling. The hour passing quickly for both agents, each of them needing the time to deal with the working stress of living 'in' the prison life. The timed locks clicked shut and the bright lights dimmed throughout B block. Mac stood at the front of the pod, his arms were pressed against the glass above his head, shirtless and clad only in his boxer briefs, he rested his forehead against the backs of his wrists and looked out into the darkened courtyard. Victor, shirtless and dressed only in boxer briefs as well, lay on his top bunk, arms folded neatly behind his head and with a spot on the back of his shoulder paining him, he silently wondered which he should bring up first; Matt or Gant. However, before Victor could come to any definite decision, Mac made the choice for him by stating, "I guess we should look up Vandenburg tomorrow eh? See what he has to say about Carter." It's decided then. Matt first. "Don't need too." Commented Victor casually as he freed up one of his arms and probed the sore spot. He could feel that where Gant had clutched his bare skin during the rape was hot and painful to touch, the scabs and the surrounding area felt raised and swollen. Probably infected. The bastard! "Oh?" Mac turned around to face Victor, leaning his bare back against the cool plexiglass. "Yeah." Victor rolled over and propped himself up on his elbow, his head resting in the palm of his hand, ignoring the sore spots for the moment. "When I was outside in the courtyard today thinking about er... stuff he approached me." Mac raised his eye brows at Victor in silent questioning. "Turns out I know him" Victor continued casually. Mac interrupted Victor by saying, "What?! How?" his concern for Victor evident in his voice. In fact, Mac was very worried, an inmate who knew exactly who Victor really was, was dangerous, way too dangerous. "In the morning we'll have LiAnne pull you out." "But... wai... " Victor tried to interrupt Mac, but Mac, with his concern, ignored Victor's attempts to interrupt and forged on, full steam, busily making plans for Victor. "We'll tell them you're sick, the Director will buy that, then once your out you should go to Nathan and find out how this guy slipped through the prisoner checks that the agency did." Mac hissed angrily as he paced back and forth in front of Victor's bunk, the wheels in his mind turning with deep thought. Victor gave up trying to get a word in edgewise on Mac and smiled at his partner, as Mac worried his hands together in front of himself. "There's no help for it," concluded Mac, "I'll just have to work this alone," he stopped in front of Victor, "Unless they send in one of the cleaners, or both, to back me up. It can't be Dobrinski, he's already been seen as the 'law'. No it will have to be Murphy or Camier, or maybe even an agent I haven't worked with before. So what do you think?" Mac asked Victor hastily. "About what?" replied Victor, amused with Mac and his plan making. Mac grimaced at Victor, fully distressed at the situation enough for both he and his partner "About the colour of my underwear!" Retorted Mac sarcastically, worried that his partner was not taking the current turn of events seriously enough, "What do you think I mean? I'm talking about getting you out of here tomorrow under the guise of being sick?" Mac looked at Victor expectantly, waiting for an answer from the grinning man on the bed. "The black suits you." Victor ignored Mac's glare, "No seriously. Are you done ranting yet?" Victor calmly asked Mac, who was making it obvious to Victor, that he did not see the humor in the situation. Mac nodded yes, but did not speak. "Good. Cause it's really sweet of you to care Mac..." Victor smiled indulgently at his partner again, "but there's no need to ship me out just yet." At this point Mac tried to object to that, but Victor held up his hand, "No I mean it. Just listen to me. It turns out that when I was working Vice I arrested him. But luckily," Victor grinned again at the irony, "he considers the arrest to be the best thing that ever happened to him." Mac let out a quiet "Ohhhh." In response to that. Victor sat up on his bunk and gingerly leaned against the cold cement wall, he winced at the pain from the pressure against the bite mark, the pain from which had more than doubled in the last few minutes. But the coolness of the wall felt good against the area; now hot and flaming. Victor went on with what he was saying, "Matt had a lot of problems then and now for that matter but I'll explain them to you later, the end result of the whole ordeal turned out to be good for him, the foster home I recommended he be sent too ended up adopting him as one of their own. He's in here by accident. I explain that to you later too. Any ways to make a long story short, Matt feels that I saved his life, and he promised me that he would never do anything to mess me up. He's trying to stay out of trouble because he's up for parole after a 'year and some change', he still thinks I'm a regular cop." Victor raised his eyebrows at the irony of that. "I told him I was in inside here undercover investigating Carter's disappearance." Victor caught the disbelief written all over Mac's handsome face, "No really Mac, he won't rat me out. Besides, I didn't tell him about you, so no matter what, your cover will be safe." Victor didn't come right out and say it to Mac, but he was relieved that Mac would be safe, just in case someone else found him out. Victor couldn't bear the thought of his partner coming to any sort of harm because of him. Mac scowled at Victor, "I'm not worried about myself. It's you I'm concerned for." Victor tried to interrupt, and finally Mac gave up, conceding, "All right. All right. I guess there's nothing we can do about things anyway. Are you sure you can trust this Matt guy?" Victor might believe in his long lost friend, but Mac was not so sanguine. "Positive" replied Victor, who was distractedly exploring the sore patch of flesh on the back side of his left shoulder. He winced again at the pain. "Are you all right Vic?" asked Mac, who had seen Victor spasm briefly from pain. Though Mac had not brought it up to Victor, he could still see the evidence of Gant's assault on his partners body. The bruising, while faint, was still evident. Staining his partner's flesh with yellow and green blotches, resembling pieces of a puzzle, random in size and shape. Victor's ribs and the backs of his legs still held the markings, with some light purple tossed in for contrast. However, the black eyes had disappeared for the most part, only visible if you were up close and face to face with him. And if there was soreness and bruising anywhere else, well Victor kept his mouth shut and didn't bother complaining to Mac about it. "Yeah, I've got a sore spot on the back of my shoulder that's been kind of hurting me all day, but now all of a sudden it's really tender, " Victor hopped off his bunk and turned his back to his partner. "Will you look at it for me?" Victor crossed his arms over the top of the edge of his mattress and rested his head against his forearms, waiting for Mac to examine him. Mac walked to Victor, as he surveyed his cohort's well muscled back, he licked his lips unconsciously at the sight. "Well?" asked Victor. "What's there?" Mac's stomach fluttered as he reached out a tentative finger and softly touched some scratch marks that, in Mac's opinion closely resembled five perfect half moon finger nail marks. As he pushed, Victor exhaled heavily, but said nothing. Mac frowned at the scratch marks, knowing full well that they had to have come from Gant, when he was in the process of violating Victor. Mac raised his eyes and saw, to his personal dismay that Gant had also left a dark bruise, that was now fading, the perfect shape of a mouth. Now Mac's stomach, instead of having butterfly's from being so close to Victor, felt like it had a lump in it. Gant's depravity against Victor just grew worse and worse, and Mac silently vowed to himself that he would make the man pay for robbing his partner, his best friend, of his most prized possession,... his dignity. Mac didn't quite know how he was going to make Gant pay yet... but he would pay, one way or another. "You're awfully quiet Mac, what's wrong?" Victor stood up and tried looking over his shoulder at the wound. Mac cleared his voice, calming himself, and said neutrally, "Well, it looks like you have some scratches back here and they've gotten infected." Mac ran his fingers lightly over the scabs while he talked, then without even realizing what he was doing, he continued with his explorations and gently, soft as satin, ran the tips of his fingers down Victor's side, closing his eyes to the sensation when he felt the dips between the ribs on the cage beneath his finger tips. "I think you should go to the infirmary tomorrow, and have the Doctor take a look at them... " Mac's husky voice trailed off and he opened his eyes again as his hand traveled down past Victor's ribs and curved around to the front, he turned his hand over so that the backs of his short nails delicately ran across the slightly concave abdomen beneath them, somewhere in the back of his mind, Mac noted that Victor had lost weight already, while incarcerated. He did not dwell on the thought though, but merely filed away the information. And when he felt the small bumps on Victor's flesh rise, as if in greeting to his touch, Mac smiled to the back of his partners head. Unable to control himself any longer, Mac did what he had been wanting to do for such a long time; he leaned in and put his lips against Victor's right shoulder and murmured faintly, "You have so much pain Victor. Let me help you make it go away." Victor's skin was warm and dry against Mac's lips. Victor inhaled deeply at Mac's feathery touches, but otherwise he did not move, nor did he protest against Mac's ministrations either. On the contrary, Victor could feel his cock hardening under the delicate massage, and it felt good. It had been a long time since someone had taken a healthy interest in him. And longer still since he felt the feelings he was experiencing now. Mac was letting Victor know, with actions not words just how he felt about him. Victor sighed, but did not respond to Mac when he spoke, and Mac, taking Victor's silence as permission, began to plant soft kisses across his other shoulder. It felt so good to be wanted, genuinely wanted. Gant had used Victor, badly, but for him had been about control. Instinctively Victor knew that Mac's lust for him was real, obviously, by the way his partner was now kissing up the side of his neck. Victor arched his head in the opposite direction to give Mac easier access, slowly he reached down and put his hand over top of his partner's hand, stopping the long fingers from dipping to far below the elastic line of his underwear. Having come to a decision, Victor turned around and faced Mac. Their eyes met briefly and Mac knew, by the look in Victor's eyes that he had his partner's consent. Mac took one step closer, so that the men were, more or less standing torso to torso, groin to groin. Wordlessly Mac leaned down and kissed Victor gently on the lips, bringing his hands up to cup the agent's face delicately, like he was holding a delicate robin's egg. Victor, who was leaning back against the side of the bunks, returned Mac's kiss, relented and then opened his mouth half way to meet Mac's inquisitive tongue. All the time the men kissed, Victor tried to vanquish thoughts of Gant from his memory. Rationally he knew that the simple act of he and Mac kissing was nothing remotely close to what he had been through with the commander of the guards. But mentally Victor had to keep telling himself to 'relax', 'be calm'. The kiss felt good, right, but when Mac began to slowly rotate his groin over Victor's own erection, Victor had decided that he had had enough... for now. So he covered Mac's hands with his own and pulled back from the long, sensuous kiss. Mac's pupils were wide with lust and wanting, Victor smiled gently at his partner. He pulled Mac's hands from his face and laced his fingers in them. "We need to slow down, okay" Victor husked. Suddenly Mac felt ashamed, how could he even think of seducing Victor so soon after a violent act had been committed against him. Mac's cheeks reddened at the thought and his erection began to ebb, "I'm sorry Vic. I don't know what came over me. I promise I won't touch you again. It's just that I thought you wanted to...?" Mac didn't finish with his thought, he left the unspoken words between them dangling in the air. Victor squeezed Mac's hands briefly then released them, "I want what you want Mac." He smiled showing his perfect teeth, "It's just that I need to take things one step at a time. You understand. Right?" He was hoping that Mac would understand, because he really wanted to be with Mac but he just had to take a little time in reaching that plateau. Mac nodded his head, he understood. "You're right Vic. We have lots' of time." Mac leaned in and gave Victor a quick peck on the lips, soft and sure, as if he was sealing a pact with his partner. "Let's get some shut eye, it's late." Victor nodded and climbed up into his own bunk, he had, for a short time forgotten about his sore shoulder, but now laying flat on his back it was hard to forget just how exactly he had gotten the scratches. Victor asked Mac matter of fact, "Do you think that the scratches look like finger nail marks?" Mac pressed his lips in a firm line and looked up at the bottom of Victor's bunk, too angry to say anything but a simple, forced "Yes." "Yeah, I figured as much." Replied Victor, who for some reason unknown to him, suddenly wanted to talk about some of what had happened to him. In the dark it felt safe, and deep down he knew that Mac would not only keep his confessions private, just between them but he would not look down on his partner for having been on the receiving end of an assault. "That's where Gant dug his fingers in, just before he bit the back of my neck. That PRICK!" cursed Victor," shoulda` known he'd have dirty finger nails. Probably didn't wash his hands that day." Mac had seen the bruise on the back of Victor's neck earlier and had assumed correctly, what that mark was from. "Don't worry Vic. Gant will get his someday. You'll see." Promised Mac much in the same way he had pledged to Victor in the shower immediately following the incident. "Yeah, I know" stated Victor flatly, someday, someway, somehow, Victor would be sure to pay Gant back for his crime. "After work tomorrow I'll ask Walker to give me a pass to the infirmary, I guess I'm going to need some antibiotics." Then, Victor threw in the rather maudlin, "I suppose I should be happy he didn't give me the 'clap' too on top of everything else." Joking darkly but half serious. Mac supposed silently that Victor was lucky that Gant hadn't given him more than a bunch of bruises and a nasty infection, but either way, Mac didn't feel like it was his place to comment directly on it. So instead he said, "I don't trust Walker. I don't like the way he looks at us." Walkers' glances and glares were not as secret as he thought. "What? Does he look at you like he wants to ask you out, too? Touch you a lot?" Now it was Victor's turn to be concerned for his partner. He didn't want Mac falling prey to Walker and his cruel mind games. Victor knew all to well about those kinds of games. "Looking at me with the evil-eye is more like it." Mac wetted his lips, glad for the darkness, "I get the distinct feeling that he is jealous of me." "Oh? Why's that?" asked Victor, curious now. "Well, for one I think he's 'soft' on you." Victor sputtered as he tried to deny the comment. "No," interjected Mac, "It's true, I've caught him quite a few times watching you when you weren't aware. And when he realizes that he's been caught looking at you, then he gets all pissed off and then gives me a hard time." Mac shook his head, "You should be careful around him. I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him." Victor flopped over on his belly, seeking relief from the pain of the infected scratches, "Don't worry about him, he's all about mind games. He's not interested in me" Victor recalled the time when Walker had approached him and got in close to him, his hands of Victor's shoulders, letting the prisoner know, just exactly who held the key to the locked door. Mac changing the subject asked, "So tell me about Matt and the arrest. What happened back then?" Victor arranged his pillow to make himself more comfortable, settling in on the small bunk and to tell the story of Matt Vandenburg, or rather, Mathew August... Hard Time Parts Eleven – Fifteen pansy64@hotmail.com

This is the latest serial effort on my part and based upon the characters Victor Mansfield and Mac Ramsey of 'John Woo's, Once a Thief' fame. The continuing story takes place in a fictional Canadian Prison, and the content of the following chapters is very dark and gritty. This serial contains graphic descriptions of non-consensual sexual as well as consensual sexual situations between two men. This series was inspired by the heavy duty prison drama: OZ which can be seen on Showcase Friday nights in Canada and on HBO in the U.S.A. This is all slash fiction therefore no one under the age of 18 should be reading this stuff. No infringement on any copyrights held is intended. No profit was made off of the following bodies of work, which was written solely for entertainment purposes only. Thanks to Sickleweed for beta-reading parts 1-8. Any and all errors made in the chapters following, starting with part 9, are purely my own... DEMI-X back to top

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