Harkness's Eleven

Author: Milady Dragon

Disclaimer: I don't own either Torchwood or Ocean's Eleven...although I once had this fantasy about John Barrowman and George Clooney…mm…I should leave it there. Yeah…

Author's note: Just a thing I thought up after watching too many conman shows, with Ocean's Eleven being the last of the bunch. It's a bit different from the movie in some ways, but I just fell in love with the idea of the team being con artists. Hope this entertains!

First chapter is kinda short, but this was just the perfect place to break.

The New New York Confederated Prison, 51st Century

There was a plain metal chair in the middle of the room.

"Good morning. Please state your name for the record."

"Jack Harkness." The chair was really uncomfortable…

"Thank you. Mr. Harkness, the purpose of this meeting is to determine whether, if released, you are likely to break the law again. While this was your first conviction, you have been implicated, though never charged, in over a dozen other confidence schemes and frauds. What can you tell us about that?"

Jack relaxed as much as he could. He just had to get past this… "As you say, ma'am…I was never charged." He refrained from adding one of patented grins, knowing the parole board wouldn't take it too well. Still, the Ardani was fairly handsome…the others not so much, but that was fine. He wasn't about to attempt to flirt his way into early parole.

"Mr. Harkness…what we're trying to find out is this: was there a reason you chose to commit this crime, or was there a reason why you simply got caught this time?"

He regarded the board carefully. "My husband left me. I was upset. I got into a self-destructive pattern…" Truth can work for him just as well as a lie.

"If released, is it likely you would fall back into a similar pattern?"

He stifled the sigh that threatened to escape. "He already left me once. I don't think he'll do it again just for kicks."

"Mr. Harkness…what do you think you would do if released?"

Jack considered…

**********

Two guards escorted him forward as his name was called. Jack stepped up to the window, collecting his belongings. As he emptied the envelope that contained his ID, a platinum ring fell into the palm of his hand.

Jack looked at it, sighed, and then slipped it on.

**********

His first breath of free air in three years just about froze his lungs. Lovely…he would have to be released during the planet's winter cycle.

He walked out of the prison, hands deep in his jacket pockets, and knew what he wanted to do.

**********

The Planet Atlantica, Vegas Galaxies

The casino felt almost like home.

Jack took a deep breath, savoring everything. Alcohol, sweat, and various races' pheromones saturated the air around him; the sounds of the gaming machines rang in his ears. Someone close was shuffling cards, and the clink of chips was like a siren song to him.

Walking around the crowd, Jack found what he was looking for. He slipped his credit stick from his jacket pocket – he'd dumped the tux he'd been arrested in almost as soon as he'd left the prison – and headed toward the blackjack table. There was an empty seat; the only other being at the table was an Artaxian, hir tentacles draped over the table in a way that fairly screamed that it was drunk. Jack ignored the alien, pulling his chair up close to the felt-covered table.

The dealer was an attractive humanoid with fine purple hair. He grinned at him, sliding his credit stick into the slot provided. "Five hundred," he stated clearly into the comms. The computer deducted the amount stated from his account, and the dealer slid the equal value of chips across the table. Jack thanked him quietly.

The first hand, Jack won with nineteen. The second hand, he won again, this time with twenty. It looked like it was going to be his lucky night. In more ways than one, perhaps.

Another dealer stepped up next to the current one; they performed their little dance that announced a dealer change, and the young man departed; leaving an attractive woman with dark hair in his place. She filled out her uniform shirt quite nicely, and as she smiled she showed off a rather fetching gap between her front teeth. Jack knew it had to have cost a fortune for that sort of dental work.

"Hello, Gwen," he greeted her, a smile lighting up his face. She wasn't the one he'd been scouting for, but any friendly face this soon after being released was welcome.

The new dealer glanced up at Jack, and her wide eyes went slightly wider. "I beg your pardon sir," she said in that very nice accent Jack remembered so well, "but you must have me confused with someone else. My name is Ophelia. See?" She pointed toward the name tag on her low-cut blouse. "Just as it says here."

Jack acknowledged her. "My mistake."

"No problem, sir."

He stifled a shiver; that accent, with that word, could always get to him. Sad it was the wrong person saying it… "Table's cold anyway."

"You might try the lounge at the Grand Nebula, sir. I understand it gets busy around 0100."

"Thanks," Jack replied, taking his chips and leaving.

**********

So much for Atlantica nightlife…

Jack checked his wrist strap – 24:58 – and took a sip of the hypervodka he'd been nursing for the last half an hour. The lounge was pretty much dead at this hour, and he mused that prison had more life than this. He picked up his copy of the Atlantican Times and continued reading.

The article was captioned: "New Vegas' Tardis Hotel to be razed; former owner denounces plans." There were two pictures: one of the new owner of the Tardis Hotel, the well-coiffed and well-dressed Harold Saxon, with a handsome – and barely visible – man on his arm. The second was the scowling face of John Smith, the hotel/casino's former owner.

"Catching up on current events?"

Jack lowered the viewer. "Ophelia?"

Gwen smirked. "Glad to meet you. Gwen Cooper won't get past the New Vegas Gaming Board, but Ophelia Blank would." She paused. "You just get out?"

"This afternoon."

Gwen motioned the bartender over and ordered. "And already turning over a new leaf." She turned her dazzling smile toward the young being who handed her a neat ale.

Jack ignored it. "You seen him?"

Gwen sighed. "Last I heard, he was on New Cali, teaching rich kids to play cards." She took a sip of her drink, looking Jack in the eye. "Why…you don't have something planned already?"

"You kidding?" Jack chuckled. "I just became a citizen again."

Gwen stared at him for a moment, as if looking for some sign. Jack simply returned her gaze…then one side of his mouth quirked upward in a grin.

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Goddess…"

**********

Jack left the casino, pulling his jacket collar up around his neck for warmth. He made his way over to a public vidphone, pulling a business card from his pocket. He slid his credit stick into the slot, and then dialed.

It was picked up on the second buzz.

"Yes…Officer Brecken? My name is Jack Harkness. I was supposed to check in with you within twenty-four hours…" He paused, listening as his parole officer went into his spiel. "No sir, I haven't gotten into any trouble…no drinking…and no gambling…oh no sir, I wouldn't even dream of leaving the system…"

He hoped the overhead flyby of the latest shuttle wasn't too noticeable over the connection.