10. ♞ PEACHES AND CREAM
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PHOEBE STEPPED OUT INTO THE courtyard, her eyes quickly and anxiously scanning the field for Michael. She had to admit, she was frightened to be away from Michael for too long, surrounded by tons of men, and to make matters worse, criminals— Murderers, rapists, thieves, serial killers, predators, and god knows what else. It's not that Phoebe thought Michael would immediately punch whoever did anything to her or so much as looked her way, she knew Michael wasn't exactly skilled in hand-to-hand combat, if anything, Phoebe was better than him at that considering her knowledge in Kung fu and taekwondo, she simply felt safe being close to him, as if she was untouchable.

Her eyes finally found his figure sitting on some bleachers close to the edge of the courtyard, he seemed to be discretely playing around with one of the screws on the underside of the bleacher he sat on. Phoebe walked his way, thinking back to their plan. Michael was to find a screw that they needed and remove it from the bleacher; Phoebe guessed he'd found the one. She rushed up the bleachers and sat besides Michael, her eyes shifting to his hand on her way up as she saw him using a coin to twist the screw free. With a small smirk, she plopped down besides him and crossed her legs while leaning forward, trying to not bring any attention to Michael so he could do his thing.

"Hey." Phoebe greeted. Michael smiled, turning to face her.

"Hey. You alright?" He asked. He felt the need to ask her if she was alright every time they were reunited after Phoebe's showers or time with the doctor, considering he had no idea of anything that could possibly happen to her in the short time they're away from each other. Phoebe nodded.

"Yep, I'm alright. Just a regular shower." She reassured. Movement caught her eye from below her, as an inmate who was sitting two bleachers down from them looked back up at them.

"Wrong piece of real estate, fishes." The inmate commented, looking up at them. "Belongs to T-Bag." He said, looking back in front of him again. Phoebe cocked a brow.

"Tea bag...?" Phoebe asked in confusion, wondering who would name themselves after a drink or sexual act, while at the same time Michael asked "Who?" The inmate snapped his head to look back at the duo.

"You best speak with respect, fishes." The inmate warned. "Man kidnapped half a dozen boys and girls down in 'Bama. Raped and killed 'em. Wasn't always in that order, either." He said in slight amusement. Phoebe scowled at this, a shiver running up her spine.

"So not only is he a kidnapper, child predator, and murderer, but he's a necrophiliac, too." Phoebe sneered in distaste. "Yep, he seems very worthy of respect." She replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Michael nudged her slightly, stopping her from saying anything else.

"Does T-Bag have a real name?" Michael asked, trying to hurry his process of removing the screw.

"That is my real name." Someone suddenly said. Michael, Phoebe, and the inmate snapped their heads to look at who had spoken— it was T-Bag. He wore a white long-sleeve shirt and the usual dark blue pants from their prison uniform and a dark blue hat. A pocket was pulled out from his pants, and another inmate grabbed tightly onto the exposed pocket for dear life, following the man like a lost puppy. T-Bag's face was thin and long, he had a button nose and dark eyes under bushy black eyebrows with light facial hair scattered across his face. The lost puppy inmate wore the prison uniform, with a small blonde and black Mohawk on his head and a smirk on his face. The look the lost puppy gave Phoebe made her stomach twist in knots, and not in a good way. As T-Bag approached them, Michael stood slowly, only for T-Bag to smirk and wave him off.

"No, no, no. Please, sit." T-Bag beckoned. Phoebe gulped, watching Michael sit back down as T-Bag got closer. T-Bag sat one bleacher below them, sitting right besides Phoebe's feet. "So, you're the new ones I've been hearing all the rave reviews about." T-Bag inched forward a little, causing Phoebe to inch backwards. "Scofield." He whispered as he stared at Michael before looking over at Phoebe. "Baldwin." He whispered next, staring Phoebe up and down. Phoebe felt small and uncomfortable under his gaze, making herself smaller as she pressed her legs together tightly and moved a tad bit closer to Michael. Michael noticed this, but didn't say anything as he tried to fake a smirk and hide the fact that T-Bag bothering Phoebe was really bothering him.

"One thing's for sure," T-Bag continued, looking back at Michael. "You're both just as pretty as advertised. Prettier even. Well, he's pretty," T-Bag said, nodding at Michael before looking back at Phoebe. "You are somethin' else, little lady. Very foxy." He taunted with a laugh. Upon the man mentioning how sexually attractive he found her, she somehow made herself even smaller and moved another bit away from him. Michael clenched his jaw at the comment, he was fuming, and he wasn't all too good at hiding that. Phoebe managed to see how uncomfortable Michael was as well and she moved a hand to grab the back of his shirt in comfort for them both.

       "Uh... thanks..." Phoebe replied awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

"Rugheads got you scared, do they?" T-Bag asked as he glared at a group of black men working out across the courtyard. Phoebe frowned, but decided not to say anything.

"Sorry?" Michael asked, caught off guard by his question. T-Bag smirked.

"I assume that's why you're over here." T-Bag began. Phoebe turned to face the men working out instead of the men in front of her as they were both staring at her as if they were starved lions and she was a piece of meat. "Few days on the inside, any god fearin' white man realizes the correctional system's got a serious lean toward the African-American persuasion." T-Bag said in distaste.

"We haven't noticed." Michael deadpanned. Phoebe decided to let him do the talking. She knew Michael could get himself in danger here, but Phoebe also knew she was at higher risk than him. After all, Michael hadn't been the one referred to as foxy. Michael was close to sliding the screw out, it being half-way out of the bleacher. He only hoped he could get it fast enough and not bring any attention to his hand with the screw and no more attention to Phoebe.

"They got the numbers, alright. So they do as they please." T-Bag said, suddenly raising his voice as he said, "We got one thing they don't." He said, leaning closer to the two. "Surprise." He whispered with a smile. "We gonna take the ball game to them, real soon." T-Bag informed quietly. "It's gonna be nasty for first-timers like you, but we'll protect you. I'll protect you." T-Bag said and pointed to himself, almost as if in a threatening way. "All you gotta do..." T-Bag froze as he slapped the lost puppy's hand away from his pocket and proceeded to pull on it. "Is take this pocket right here." He said. "And your life'll be all peaches and cream. I walk, you walk with me."

The lost puppy took the opportunity to grab onto T-Bag's pocket again, looking up at him as he was expecting to get slapped away again, but it didn't happen. "Keep you real close." T-Bag continued, patting the puppy's hand. "No one up in here can hurt you." He said. Michael smirked.

"Looks to me like you've already got a girlfriend." Michael sassed, motioning over to the inmate clinging tightly to T-Bag's pocket. T-Bag slapped the inmate's hand away again and stood up, moving closer to them. Phoebe couldn't become any smaller or scoot any closer to Michael at this point, so instead she clung tighter onto his shirt.

"I've got a whole other pocket over here." T-Bag said as he motioned to his other pocket. "And over here." He said, pulling out one of the butt pockets, staring at Phoebe suggestively as he did. Phoebe clenched her jaw.

"We'll pass." Michael said, turning to look away from the man. Phoebe did the same as Michael, hoping the man would take a hint and leave them alone, but to their luck (bad luck, that is), he didn't. T-Bag laughed unamused.

"I don't protect you, them Rugheads gonna gobble you two up like a plate of black eyed peas." T-Bag warned.

"I said no." Michael snapped, barely giving T-Bag any time to finish speaking. Phoebe was actually quite surprised to hear Michael snap back at an actual murderer.

"Then you'd best move, then. Now." T-Bag threatened, moving up closer to their faces. Michael looked at Phoebe and nodded, standing up. Phoebe quickly stood and followed him down the bleachers, still holding onto his shirt. Once they hit the ground, she released her grip on him. "You come around these bleachers again, it won't be just words were exchanging." T-Bag warned as he slipped his hat back on. As the two walked away, Phoebe walked right besides Michael.

"Did you get it?" She asked quietly. Michael shook his head and sighed.

"Almost."