We've all been surprised by the pairing of Fig and Caputo in season 6 – me, at least, didn't see it coming, but surprisingly it really worked. I find them hilarious together and as there isn't very much fanfic about them out there I wrote some myself.

I actually wrote this a few months ago, never intending to publish it. But when I re-discovered it a few days back I thought "why not?" (Also, I am supposed to do 47292 things more important than revising my fanfic, but it's what helps me cope with stress atm, I guess).

I have drafted 15 chapters, but don't know how soon I am getting to really revising and posting all of them. It will follow the timeline of the show and consist of missing scenes we've been left to guess about. Plenty of room for writers' imagination

The story begins with the scene in 4.12 where Joe turns up at Natalie's house at night, right before the riot.

Hope you enjoy.


I am a good talker

"Talking sounds nice," Joe said and entered Natalie's house.

Natalie closed the door and casually leaned against it with her back, a smile, part bitter, part seductive playing around her lips while Joe stood in the hallway, taking a look around.

"So. Husband not home tonight, huh?" he asked.

"Some committee meeting, or sponsor dinner, or whatever, I don't fucking care," she replied bitterly. She looked down at her feet for a short moment. Then she lifted her head, looked at Joe, raised her glass and said: "Come on, have a glass with me and we'll talk, alright?" Before he could say anything, she walked past him and Joe followed her through the hallway on into the large, modern kitchen. He momentarily paused near the door, watching her taking another glass from one of the cupboards. He noticed how spotlessly clean the room was. Nothing seemed out of place. No dishes on the sink, no half-empty bottles of wine, no bread crumbs, and not even some fruit or vegetables neatly arranged in a bowl or basked. It was a kitchen meant to be decorative, not one for cooking, and feeling at home, he thought.

Natalie held out the glass, now filled to the brim with red wine, to Joe, prompting him to move close to her. He took the glass from her and imitated her pose, leaning against the counter with one side of his hip, so they were facing each other. Natalie now raised her glass towards him: "Cheers, beer can. To all the lost ideals and broken promises we've encountered along the way," she said. Joe took the glass from Natalie, half-emptied with a few gulps and put it down on the counter. He cocked his head and looked at Natalie who held her glass to her chest and watched him, now with a small smile playing around her lips. Clearly, she had recognized his need to fill himself with some liquid courage before talking to her.

Joe looked at her for a moment, kneading his hands, in an attempt to suppress his sudden desire to touch her. "How did you do it?" he asked. "Do this fucking job for what, ten years, twelve?"

Natalie pursed her lips before taking another sip from her glass and putting it down next to his so closely the two glasses clinked lightly. "I am not like you, Joe," she said and cocked her head at him. "I never wanted to be a good person. I just wanted to do my job and I knew this meant some tough decisions. To some it meant I had to be a bitch."

Joe shook his head, his expression gentle. "I was around when you first started. I had just become captain of the guards. You wanted to replace me but you didn't find someone more competent, …" his voice trailed off, with him trying to remember a younger Natalie. He had always found her unnerving and incredibly annoying. Not now, though, he thought, while his eyes wandered from her face down to her breasts, covered by her, certainly very expensive, top.

Natalie smirked. "Well, that was long time ago. I remember you being a total and complete creep even back then. But the others were even more incompetent than you at the time." She breathed in and out and took a step towards him, closing the distance between them. She placed her left hand on Joe's outer thigh and slowly moved it inwards until it reached his groin. She began lightly moving her fingers across his balls and her smirk widened when Joe began to wince.

"We said we would just be talking," he hissed through his teeth. He felt tiny beads of sweat beginning to cover his forehead and temples, and the back of his neck began to feel immensely hot.

Natalie leaned closer to him and whispered: "My fingers just want to talk to your balls for a bit. That's all." She continued her ministrations while leaning back and reaching for her glass with her other hand. She took a few sips, her eyes never leaving Joe's face. "And what part of you would like to talk to me, beer can?" she added in a seductive voice, putting her now empty glass down and tightening her grip on him. Her other hand moved towards his tie and she gently tugged at it while whispering: "I think you need to take this off. You seem to get all hot in that fancy suit of yours."

Joe groaned, snatched his glass and emptied it in one draught. He almost slammed it down on the counter and began tugging at Natalie's top. Before he could pull it over her head, Natalie stilled his movement. "Not here. I'm not in the mood for kitchen sex tonight. Let's move upstairs."

Joe stopped in his movement, "Upstairs? Your bedroom?" he asked in disbelief, as if something was dawning on him. "Sorry, I can't …"

Natalie chuckled. "Don't worry, it's just my bedroom, emphasis on my. Jason and I have been sleeping in separate bedrooms for some time now. You don't have to worry about jumping into another man's bed."

Before she had finished her last sentence, Joe grabbed Natalie by the hips and yanked her towards him. He ground his pelvis into hers and greedily buried his face in the crook of her shoulder, nipping at her neck. "No marks in visible spots," Natalie hissed, winding herself out of his grip and indicating him to follow her. Joe appreciated her ass from behind while following her upstairs. The moment they entered her bedroom, he turned her around, and almost violently pushed her backwards onto the large bed. Joe didn't even bother to look around in her bedroom while simultaneously tugging at her and his own clothes. No more words were spoken, only his commanding "on your knees", once they were naked, his voice hoarse with need and desire.


Joe woke up in the early morning light. It took him a few seconds to realize where he was and why he was where he was. He was at Fig's house, in Fig's bed, and Fig was actually sleeping next to him. They had fucked a few times, he couldn't quite remember how many times, three, probably, according to his memory. And as much as he'd like to, he wouldn't probably manage more than three times in one night, he thought wistfully. He wasn't in his twenties anymore. Joe lifted himself up and had to suppress a groan. His body felt sore, but in a good way. His head, too, but in a not so good way. They had had wine and later switched to scotch, in between the first and second round. Maybe later, his memory was somewhat blurry.

He turned his head and watched Natalie sleep. She had been drunk, too, last night. Not heavily, but clearly. But she had been a volcano as ever. She was so very different from Linda, even though on the outside, both seemed right out bitches to others. But somehow, Joe sensed, there was something genuine, something decidedly un-bitchy within the woman now sleeping next to him. He had come to the conclusion that deep down, Natalie did actually have a heart, but had learned to shield it very carefully from the outside. Linda, however….

Joe let himself fall back onto the pillow and closed his eyes again. He didn't want to think about Linda now, not after last night. He would have, at some moment, but not now. He didn't even know why he had come to Natalie's house in the first place. He had just had to let off some steam after another shitty day at the prison. Those assholes of COs, that stupid fucker Piscatella, … so Joe had jumped into his car, needing to get away for just an hour or else he would just have fired the whole gang. They deserved it. But then, what? He couldn't run a prison without guards.

So he had been driving, Bruce on the radio, just needing to cool off. But then, after half an hour of driving, he had realized that he had made it all the way down to Albany. It took him a while to remember where she lived; he had been at her place once before, delivering some papers. And it was only after he had rung the doorbell, that it occurred to him that her husband might open the door. But then, there she was, and he had poured his heart out, and certainly some part of him had hoped she'd invite him in, even if it was a pity fuck, for both of them. He didn't care. It had been a good night.

Joe turned his head to her again and noticed how soft her features looked in her sleep. They had had sex quite a few times now, but he had never seen her in this vulnerable state. He liked it. It was so unlike the Natalie he knew, the one with her guard pulled up ten feet high. He wondered when she had removed her make-up. He probably had fallen asleep after their last round whereas she must have taken some time in the bathroom. He noticed how he had never before seen her without any, and he thought it suited her. Made her look a lot younger and softer.

Joe thought about how much he wanted to stay in bed, and just look at her. Silent, for once, not commenting on his words of actions, just there, quite and beautiful. But then he remembered why he was here in the first place, and how things at Litchfield were at the moment. "Oh fuck", he whispered. He shouldn't have come over, and he'd have to get back in an instant. He noticed a small alarm clock on the nightstand and stretched his head to get a look. It said 6:04, and Joe slowly got out of bed. He'd have to hurry back to Litchfield, no stopover at home for a shower and a change of clothes. Joe tried to collect his items in the dim light. When he lifted his pants from the floor, his phone slipped out of his pocket and fell on the floor with a soft thud, somewhat muffled by the plushy carpet. He checked it and groaned: "Oh fuck!", when he noticed that he had 28 unanswered calls from Litchfield and lots of messages and voicemails. Something serious must have happened there.

He quickly gathered the rest of his items and tried to sneak out the door. Just when he was about to open the door he heard Natalie stir, and say in a hoarse voice: "Did you think you could just sneak out like that?"

Joe turned around. "I'm sorry, Fig. I have to hurry. There's a lot of shit going on at the prison right now and they need me back there."

Natalie propped herself up on her elbows, causing the duvet to slide down and expose her naked breasts. Joe felt his dick getting harder, but even though it cost him a lot of willpower, he resisted. He had to go. He had a gut feeling that something must have gone terribly wrong at Litchfield after he had left last night.

"As you like, beer can. Thanks for the talk," Natalie said, winking at him, a smirk playing around her face.

"Yeah, yeah, it was great talking you you. Really great," Joe replied. "Let me know when you want to talk next time, alright?" and went downstairs.

Natalie remained in her bed, now on her back again, listening to Joe close the front door and fire up his car. She was enjoying the feel of the moment after unexpectedly having had a great night - one which had begun pretty lonely, after Jason hadn't come home the fifth night in a row. She had been trying hard to not let his affair get to her so much. But yet she failed constantly, and she had found that meeting Joe, fucking Joe, did a lot to rebuild her shattered self. So it had been a really pleasant surprise to find Joe at her doorstep last night. And then, with him admitting he had done her wrong, basically apologizing for misjudging her, she felt they were even, which now came on top of a sexually very satisfying night.

She smirked when she thought about his confession of having a girlfriend. It was an extra satisfaction to her that she had left a bite mark on his neck, clearly visible, so that it wouldn't leave doubt he had been with her. Natalie had never met Linda Ferguson in person, but from what she had heard, Linda wasn't the woman she would ever want to meet. She was gloating at having fucked that woman's boyfriend.

Natalie snuggled deeper into her bed and thought how she was feeling truly sorry for Joe, even though she had all reasons for feeling spiteful. He didn't really bother her anymore, she realized. Beneath the creepy outside of Joe Caputo there was something that touched her. Perhaps because he wanted so desperately to do the right thing, and be a good person, even though he kept failing repeatedly.

She had never been a good person, even though she once had started out with ideals. Her first job had been working for a state senator working for correction reform. The reform never even made it to the house, and the senator never got re-elected. Natalie had learned a few things about how impossible it was to change the prison-industrial complex, at least not for the better. At least she had then gotten the job at Litchfield, and Jason had benefitted from many of her contacts for his own political career.

Natalie turned on her left side and sighed. She had had a short night and would catch up on some sleep. She didn't have to do anything meaningful anyway, so she might just drift off again and forget about her miserable life for a while longer while Joe had to return to that hellhole of a prison. It wasn't her concern anymore.