Fuk Yu, Shakespier!

Word Count: ~37.000

Summary: When hardened criminal Jack Harkness finishes his prison sentence, he discovers that the money he stole during his last bank robbery is now buried underneath the gym of a school. Gaining access as a substitute teacher, Jack faces enough of a challenge already by digging for the money at night and being a role model to educationally disadvantaged students during the day. When his attraction to the overly idealistic teacher Ianto Jones is thrown into the mix, though, it's not just Jack's freedom that's at stake, but also – for the first time – his heart.

Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Gwen Cooper, Mica Davies, Owen Harper, John Hart, Toshiko Sato, Harold Saxon, Carys Fletcher, Bernie Harris, Annie Botchwell, Jonah Bevan, Jasmine Pierce, Alonso Frame, Suzie Costello, Rory Williams, Amy Pond, Andy Davidson

Pairing: Jack/Ianto (slow development), Jack/Gwen (past), Jack/Alonso Frame (past)

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Attempted suicide, mention of prostitution, mention of drug abuse, mention of an abusive relationship in the past, violence

Contains: Language, sexual situations

Author's Note: Written for reel_torchwood and based on the German movie Fack Ju, Göhte! with Elyas M'Barek and Karoline Herfurth. This movie is available as a DVD with English subtitles and totally worth it!

Goethe (intentionally spelled wrong 'Göhte' in the movie's title) is one of Germany's most popular writers and lived from 1749-1832. To adapt the story to take place in Wales, I replaced him with the English writer Shakespeare (1564-1616).

The second half of the story is only loosely based on the movie. I took some freedoms with that.

Beta: nemo_baker, who agreed to swap stories with me. Thank you!

Disclaimer: I'm not making money with this fanfic. The tv show Torchwood and the characters appearing within it belong to their producers and creators.

The movie Fack ju, Göhte! (2013) belongs to its writer and director Bora Dagtekin and the production companies Rat Pack and Constantin.

Additionally, one sentence in this story was borrowed from another German movie called Türkisch für Anfänger (Turkish for Beginners). This movie belongs to Bora Dagtekin (as well!) and the production companies Rat Pack, Constantin and ARD Degeto.

Any similarities to living or dead persons are purely coincidental and not intended.

xxx

1.

There was a crack running along the clinically white ceiling, crossing the room almost entirely. Jack leaned further back in his chair, the legs tilting precariously. He wondered how long the crack had been there, how deep it went and almost wished for the ceiling to cave in, if only to save him from this boring afternoon.

"Mr. Harkness."

On the other hand, he thought, it would be kind of ironic if he'd die here, in this god-awful place.

"Mr. Harkness?"

Not heroically in a fight against the police or with a woman or a man in his bed (he wasn't picky there), but sitting here, at this little table in this bare classroom with Mrs. Medlin …

"Jack Harkness!"

He startled and managed to get his chair back under control and onto its four feet. He glared at Mrs. Medlin who was staring at him disapprovingly with her arms crossed over the brown cardigan she had probably worn for the last fifty years or so. The bun her grey hair had been forced into only strengthened the image of a stern teacher.

Jack crossed his own arms over the thin muscle shirt he was wearing and flexed his biceps, though he already had noticed that Mrs. Medlin didn't seem frightened by him – or any of the others in this room – at all. "What?"

Mrs. Medlin glared at him. "That's 'pardon' to you. Are you not interested at all in whether you graduated?"

"Why? Did I?" He'd be surprised.

"No."

"So why the fuck should I care?"

Mrs. Medlin was the kind of woman who looked like she should be rattled by the f-word, but Jack guessed that one didn't spend a few hours a week helping adults in a prison to graduate from school without ever hearing bad words. She was used to it, so she just smiled blandly. "Do you want to know which subject is your weakness?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Would it matter if I said 'no'?"

"Not really."

"Bitch," he muttered under his breath. Carl sitting next to him chuckled, but Mrs. Medlin's icy glare made him shut up. Jack sneered at him. "Bitch," he repeated, this time headed at Carl.

Mrs. Medlin sighed. "The sad thing, Mr. Harkness, is that all subjects are a weakness for you."

"Great. Can I go now?"

"It's sad that you will leave this facility not having used the last year to get a certificate. It would make starting a legal life easier for you," Mrs. Medlin replied. "I'd like to say you tried … but you didn't."

Jack smiled sharply. "I only came for the free coffee," he said, saluting her with the paper cup.

"Well, I hope we won't be seeing each other again."

"Hear, hear," Jack answered.

Mrs. Medlin gathered her folders and paperwork. "Though looking at your track record, that's unlikely."

"Hey, look at the bright side," Jack said, grinning sarcastically. "If I end up here again, you can start from scratch."

Mrs. Medlin looked scandalised.

xxx

Jack didn't go to prison unprepared. The bank robbery he'd been sentenced for had gone over smoothly. He'd only been caught three days later and by then, his share of the money had already been safely stashed with a friend he trusted. So he wasn't worried about leaving the prison with no prospects. The money had been waiting for him for a year and the first thing he'd do as soon as he was out was call Gwen and get the money back from where she'd hidden it safely. He was ready by the time Andy Davidson unlocked his prison cell for what would be the last time.

"Big day for you, yeah?" Andy said with a bright smile on his boyish face when Jack stepped out of his cell. "Back to a civilised life."

Jack winked at him, grinning the way he knew always made Andy blush slightly. "I never was civilised."

Andy had just started at Cardiff Prison when Jack had been arrested and he was one of the better wardens – always happy to make a joke and treating the prisoners with a respect that got repaid by good behaviour. Andy waved Jack forward to step out of the cell, glancing inside to see whether anything personal was left. Since Jack had come with almost nothing, though, and had never had anyone bring him his belongings, it was as bare as the day he'd moved in.

Andy sighed. "Let's go then."

"Hey, Jack!" a familiar voice called and he turned around to where his former partner in crime John Hart was being led to his cell. He was grinning widely, showing him the thumbs-up. "See you in a few days!"

"Yeah!" Jack answered. "Don't drop the soap in the meantime!"

John laughed. "You know I do it on purpose!" He was ushered forward by his guard and shrugged him off with a glare. "Don't touch me, wanker."

"Come on," Andy said, touching Jack's shoulder. "Let's get you to freedom."

xxx

Jack received a clear plastic bag with his beloved leather jacket, his wallet and his mobile as well as a pack of cigarettes. He threw the cigarettes away, having given up on smoking, and donned the jacket against the cool rain and wind of a February afternoon. Then he began to walk.

The money was enough to buy him a fast food lunch. He spent a few hours reacquainting himself with Cardiff, knowing that Gwen would still be sleeping, and finally ended up near Mermaid Quay where his last money bought him a few beers and a prepaid SIM card, which he used to call Gwen when the sun set.

It took her only twenty minutes to pull up at the gas station he'd indicated as their meeting place. He smiled when he saw her get out of the car. Her long dark hair was still as wild as always and her gap-toothed grin was infectious … until the saw what exactly she'd done to his car. He stared in shock while Gwen ran towards him as fast as her high heels allowed and threw her arms around his neck. "Oh, baby, it's good to see you!"

Jack shrugged her off, approaching his car. "What the fuck, Gwen? What did you do to my car?" He pointed at the huge sticker on the door.

She came to stand next to him and grinned. "'Bitch on Board'. Fitting, isn't it?"

He only glanced at her hot pants, and the top that left little to the imagination, and shook his head. "If it was your car, but it's not. I gave it to you for safekeeping."

Gwen rolled her eyes, readjusting her bra. "Oh, Christ, Jack, don't be a wuss." She glanced at him. "Besides, even if it is your car, 'Bitch on Board' still fits."

A couple of men walked by, wolf-whistling at her. Gwen smiled at them, tugging her hot pants into place and blowing them a kiss.

One of the men asked, "How much for a blowjob, love?"

"Sorry," she answered, leaning into Jack. "Already got a john. But you can find me at the Exotic." She looked up at Jack. "Don't I get a kiss?"

Jack couldn't be mad for long when she looked at him like that. He rolled his eyes and gave up on his car's dignity. "What do you charge?"

Gwen pouted mockingly and then placed a kiss on his lips. "One for free, because you're out. But don't let Harold hear about it." Jack smacked her arse and Gwen giggled before pulling away. "I'm sure you'd like to know where I buried your money."

Jack nodded. "Yeah."

She handed him the car keys. "Let's go."

xxx

"It's a school," Jack said, peering out the windshield at the building Gwen had led him to. Three floors, rectangular form, in desperate need of some renovations. It fit the neighbourhood it was placed in, which was just as miserable. There were overflowing waste containers, groups of drunk young men hollering at passing cars, and children much too young to still be out at this time of night.

The school was located at a dead-end street and lay there quietly. The lights of the car reflected off the big, blue plastic letters attached to a slab of concrete.

Dylan Thomas School

Crude pictures and tags were sprayed on the sign and the concrete, giving the school an even more wretched aura.

Gwen handed Jack her mobile, a map open on the display. "I marked the spot for you," she said and Jack glanced at the pin which couldn't be more than a few meters away from them. Somewhere on the school grounds. Gwen grinned. "I thought nobody would come search a school, you know?"

Jack took the mobile, grimly staring out the window.

"What's wrong?" Gwen asked.

"Don't have good memories of my time at school."

Gwen's eyes widened in surprise. "You went to school? How long for?"

"8th or 9th grade, I don't know," Jack answered and rubbed his forehead. "It was my cocaine phase." The lie came over his lips easily. School had been hard on him for a whole different reason, but nobody knew the truth about his life before he'd escaped to Cardiff from London. It was supposed to stay that way.

Gwen didn't seem overly curious. She was checking her make-up in the rear mirror. "Hey, if you find the money, can I get new tits?"

Jack got out of the car. "Shut up and honk if someone's coming." He slammed the door.

"Hey," Gwen called after him, leaning out the open window. "You owe me. It would be good for business, I'm not getting any younger."

He waved her off and continued towards the building, following the mobile's map.

The school seemed even more desolate close up: Graffiti everywhere, litter strewn around the bins instead of inside them, posters advertising clubs either half-torn off the walls or the pictures on them scribbled over with pens. He looked through a window and found a classroom with only the bare essentials, some of the chairs and tables already damaged. It reminded him of his school in London and he sighed, quickly turning away.

He was so focused on following the navigation that he didn't look up and was abruptly stopped by a signpost smacking against his forehead. "Fuck." He looked up, squinting in the low light of the lamps around the school yard to make out the letters.

Dylan Thomas School Gym

The sign seemed newer than the rest of the school, as did the building. Even marred by some graffiti, it still appeared more modern than the rest of the school.

And it sat exactly where the pin on Gwen's mobile indicated she'd buried his money.

Jack couldn't believe it. "Is she bloody kidding me?" He turned around and stormed back to the car, waving frantically when Gwen started to honk hectically. "Shut up, you idiot! It's me!"

She got out, grinning. "Do you have it?"

"Do I look like I have it?" he asked, walking towards her.

"What's the hold-up?"

He grabbed her arm and pulled her along.

"Ow! Stop that!" She pushed him away and straightened her top and jacket. "What crawled up your arse and died?"

He didn't answer, just walked back to the gym.

Gwen's high-heels clacked over the concrete when she followed. "Hey, could we have a look inside? I'm doing a sexy teacher thing at the bar and maybe I could get some ideas for my costume." She stopped next to him when he pointed at the gym. "Whoa," she said. "This wasn't here a year ago." She looked at him and took a step back at his thunderous expression. "I swear, there was just some kind of construction site."

"Oh, really?!" Jack asked. "Why the fuck would you bury my money on a fucking construction site?"

"I thought they were just fixing some pipes!" Gwen answered. She put her arms around his neck, pressing against his side. "Are you mad at me?"

He pushed her away. "No! Why would I be mad at you? I have only been waiting for this moment for the last thirteen months!"

"Well ..." Gwen bit her lip. "Maybe we can lift it …," she said with a nod at the gym. Jack stared at her in disbelief while she trailed off, "... with a crane."

Jack kicked the sign and stomped back towards the car. A flickering light next to the building made him stop.

A candle.

He frowned quizzically and stepped closer. He hadn't noticed it before, but now he saw a small altar had been erected at the side of the building. Some candles and flowers and a picture of an older man wearing the coat of a janitor.

"Oh, how sad," Gwen said. "He looks nice."

Jack smiled. "I have an idea."

xxx

The fist hit him square in the face.

Jack stumbled back and into one of the glass tables, taking it down with him. Harold Saxon was a short man but he was strong and known for his right hook. Jack groaned and held his nose, feeling blood on his fingers. Harold massaged his fist while Jack sat up slowly. None of the guests still sitting around the stage and at the bar paid any attention to them, either too drunk, too distracted by the scantily glad girls dancing at the poles, or too indifferent to the violence. The Exotic was dimly lit, the music loud and the smell of alcohol and fast food permeated the air.

Harold grimaced, flexing his hand. His suit was probably supposed to give him more credibility than he deserved, but it fell flat in the surroundings of the strip bar that served as a brothel on the side. "I missed you," Harold said. "Good to see that prison didn't kill you." He grinned wolfishly.

Gwen rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "Really, Harold. It's his first day out. Cut him some slack."

"Shut up and go change!" Harold snapped at her. "The sexy teacher is up in twenty minutes. Last I heard you were still working for me." He turned back to Jack. "You owe me 2000 pounds."

Jack got up slowly, glass crunching under his shoes. The table had broken during the fall but his leather jacket had served well in protecting him from the shards.

Harold sighed. "And you owe me a new table."

"Relax," Jack answered, taking the napkin Gwen offered him for his nose. "I'll have the money from my last robbery in two weeks."

"Two weeks," Harold said with a nod, "or I'll sell your organs."

"Right," Jack said. "Can I crash here?"

Harold rolled his eyes. "I don't have the space unless you're putting out for the clients."

"'Course you have the space! Not all of the boys and girls are here all the time. Don't fuck with me, Harold. You've got spare rooms."

Harold sighed deeply, but nodded. "Gina's in rehab. You can have her room until she's back." With that, he walked away.

"Come on," Gwen said, taking Jack's hand. "Gina's room is next to mine. It's perfect." She smiled up at him.

They left the Exotic through a side door, entering the narrow corridor that separated Harold's two table dance bars. The Exotic on the right catered to the straight men looking for company, the Nevada on the left to those who preferred men. The only thing the bars shared was Harold's name under their licenses and this corridor, which led up to the first floor where the employees had their rooms for the more discreet services not officially advertised. The door leading to the Nevada opened, thumping music streaming out, and a blond young man in shorts and with a naked chest joined them.

"Oh, hey, Jack!" he said, smiling brightly. "You're back."

Jack needed a moment to recognise him, but he smiled when he did. "Still working for Harold, Alonso?"

The young man shrugged. "You know how it is." Alonso had once told Jack about his plans for the future after they'd shagged. How he'd go to London and open his own business. Jack had given him a big tip that night, trying to encourage even though he knew that big plans died fast in this place.

Gwen ushered him upstairs and showed him to Gina's room before disappearing into hers to get changed.

The room was lit dimly with red lamps, pillows, throws and curtains giving it soft curves and comfy corners to relax in. A make-up table was crammed into a corner next to the door leading to a tiny bathroom. Jack sat on the bed and kicked off his shoes, lounging back with his hands crossed behind his head to think. His reflection stared back at him out of the mirror fixed to the ceiling. He needed his clothes from the boxes Gwen had kept while he was in prison. He would then go to that school tomorrow and apply as a janitor, get the keys to all the buildings and then get the money. He might have to bury a tunnel to get to it, but that wouldn't be a big hindrance. He could do that at night while nobody was at the school.

As for the janitor job, he was good with technical things, so it wouldn't be a problem for him to pretend long enough to get his money back.

He smiled. It was an easy plan. And then he would pay off his debts and fly to California, away from dreary Cardiff and into a bright future.