fic part 5
For sravenk. Now sod off. :)
--
As they stood in line, Olivia got a chance to get a closer look at the women sharing the prison with her. They seemed to be comprised of all ages, some looking as young as eighteen, others approaching and passing middle age. Her initial instinct was to try and figure which ones were in for what crime, but out of context -out of the familiarity of her own comfort zone as a cop -it was harder than it looked.
“I hope you have enough paper and pens for all the books you’re going to write in here,” Nikki leaned in and whispered slyly.
Olivia gave her a sideways look and shook her head. “I wasn’t analysing anyone,” she whispered in return.
“Of course you weren’t.”
“Next!” came the call from the serving counter.
Olivia stepped up and came face to face with Shell Dockley, who startled upon seeing Benson.
“Careful she doesn’t spit in your food,” Nikki warned.
The blonde sneered. “Shut it, Wade.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Olivia stated coldly. Dockley saw the look and decided to take her own advice. Benson looked down at the selection of food, which comprised of two choices that both looked to be about the same mash of ingredients. Pointing at the first option, Olivia said, “I’ll have some of that.”
Dockley all but slammed it onto the plate and turned to Nikki. “What do you want?”
Benson coughed and got Shell’s attention. “I think I’ll have a bit more.”
Shell made a condescending face and replied, “Well, you only get what you’re allowed. And that’s all you’re allowed.”
Benson leaned forward ever so slightly and repeated, “I think I’ll have a bit more.” It only took Dockley a fraction of a second to make up her mind. With a slight tremble in her hand, she scooped up a spoonful of the mash and put it on Olivia’s plate.
Wade could barely suppress her laugh. She pointed at the same concoction Olivia chose. “I’ll have that.” The slop hit her plate with a loud thud and she moved on, but not before scrunching up her nose and asking, “What’s that awful smell? It smells like someone shit themselves.”
Dockley’s reply of “Bitch” was loud enough for the line to hear, but the two women didn’t bother to turn around and instead walked over to a table on the far side of the room. Nikki slid into a seat and Olivia followed suit.
“Who’s your new friend?” one of the women already at the table asked.
“This is Olivia. She’s from America.” Nikki imparted the last bit of information with an exaggerated tone of awe.
“Ooooh!” the women replied in kind.
Putting a hand on Olivia’s shoulder and putting her at ease, Nikki said, “Yvonne Atkins, this is Olivia Benson. And the lovely woman across from you is Barbara Hunt, as of today, my ex-cellmate.”
“Nice to meet you,” Benson said.
“Yeah,” Yvonne snorted, “it’s a regular Sunday social club.”
“Well, it is nice to meet you, Olivia,” Barbara said.
“Thanks.”
Two women who appeared to be attached at the hip approached the table.
“Nikki, who’s your new friend?” the shorter one asked.
“This is Olivia.”
“Well, hello Olivia…”
“… nice to meet you,” the other finished.
“Olivia,” Nikki informed, “the tall one there would be Julie Johnston. And the other one’s Julie Saunders. To keep things simple, we just call them…”
“The two Julies,” they said in unison.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to that,” Nikki replied.
Yvonne scoffed. “Christ, I haven’t.”
“So, Olivia,” Julie S ventured, “me an’ Jules usually try and figure out what the new girls are in for, you know, for a bit of a laugh. We’ve gotten pretty good over the last few years, haven’t we, Jules?”
“We have.”
“So Jules decided, after overhearing your conversation there with Shell Dockley, completely by accident, mind, that it’s some kind of assault? You look like you can take care of yourself…”
“… and maybe someone tried to pull one on you?” Julie J chimed in.
“Now me, knowing the business as I do…”
“… as you do…”
“I was thinking more along the lines of prostitution.”
Olivia’s eyes doubled in size.
Julie S held out her hands. “Now don’t take that the wrong way, Liv,” she apologized. “Alls I’m sayin’ is, you’ve got a body that I can imagine would be of some use to you, if you get my meaning.”
“I think we all do, Jules, thank you,” Nikki said.
The two Julies brushed aside her reply and looked at Olivia.
“So if it isn’t too much to ask…”
“…what are you in for?”
Benson took note of the reactions around the table. Barbara very politely continued to eat her meal, though Olivia could tell she was paying acute attention. Yvonne was leaning in, her curiosity obvious and overt. Nikki, already knowing the answer also continued eating, only half-listening to Olivia’s response.
“You really want to know?” All interested parties nodded their heads. “Well, it started because I came home early from work one day and found my husband in bed with the mailman.”
Nikki coughed so hard that Yvonne looked over in concern. “Oi. You okay there?”
Hitting her chest to clear the airway, Nikki nodded and took a drink. “I’m fine.”
“Anyway,” Benson continued, “as I stood in the doorway of the bedroom with the meat cleaver in my hand, I played the ‘Either/Or’ game.” She saw the puzzlement on the faces of her audience, so she clarified, “The ‘Either/Or’ game. Either him or him. Either the man I’ve been married to for five years who is banging the mailman, or the mailman who leaves my packages out on the doorstep in the rain.”
“How did you decide?” Julie J asked breathlessly.
Olivia shrugged. “I didn’t. The mailman decided for me. He called out ‘Oh, God!’ and my asshole of a husband said, ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah!’ The mailman said, ‘No, no, no! I mean, oh God, your wife!’ By the time I lunged at them, the mailman was out the bedroom window. Lucky for him, it wasn’t a two-storey house.”
Nikki pressed her lips together to hold in the laugh, but Yvonne had no such qualms. With a full laugh, she swore, “Bastard!”
Julie S bit her finger. “What happened to your husband?”
“We got into a huge knock-down-drag-out fight,” she sighed. “I substituted the sharp cutting pleasure of the cleaver with the satisfaction of hitting him with my fists.”
“I told you she could take care of herself,” Julie J said to her friend.
“Next thing I know, he’s on the floor, bleeding from the head. Cracked his temple on the corner of the dresser he bought me for an anniversary gift. So here I am. Manslaughter. The end.”
“Christ,” the two Julies whispered in tandem.
“Bastard had it coming to him,” Yvonne pronounced. “And you’re only in here because bloody men stick up for their own kind. No woman judge would give that kind of sentence. Bastards.”
Before she could respond, out of the corner of her eye, Olivia saw a small brunette inching her way towards the table. Yvonne was the first to say something.
“What are you doing skulking around, Denny? Speak up.”
Denny stepped forward and fidgeted for a few seconds before glancing down at Olivia and managing, “I was wondering if I could talk to you.”
“Sure.”
“I mean, somewhere private.”
Olivia looked around the table, then back at Denny. “You can say whatever you want to me here, don’t worry.”
Twisting a strand of hair around her finger, she shifted from one foot to the other, unsure of the situation.
“Oh, for God’s sake, spit it out, Denny,” Yvonne ordered.
“I was just… I mean, about earlier. We’re okay you and me, yeah?”
Olivia nodded her understanding. “Denny, what’s passed is past. I don’t hold grudges. But you need to take stock of your life and your friends and figure out what’s best for you. I wasn’t lying back there; you look like a good kid, Denny. Get your shit together.”
Denny gave a shy smile. “You’re all right, Olivia. Thanks.”
When the young girl left, Nikki tapped her forehead and whispered conspiratorially, “She’s a head inspector.”
“Really?” Barbara asked.
Yvonne frowned. “What? You mean a shrink?”
“One and the same.”
“You going to get us all to confess about pissing our beds when we were kids?”
Benson laughed. “There are some things I don’t need to know about the women I’m stuck in prison with.”
A ripple of laughter went around the table.
“Listen, Liv, it was good to meet you, but…”
“… we’ve got to get back to work or…”
“Bodybag will have our tits!”
As the two Julies walked away, Olivia admitted, “I’m getting used to only understanding half of what anyone says around here.”
After another round of laughter faded away, Yvonne tilted her head and asked, “What
was all that about with Denny?”
Nikki jerked her thumb in Olivia’s direction. “She doesn’t like to be called ‘Miss America’.”
Benson gave her a gentle kick under the table. “I had a run-in with her and Shell Dockley earlier today in my cell. After this little accident,” she pointed to the cut on her cheek, “we all came to the agreement that Shell would do her thing and I would do mine.”
“Yeah,” Wade crowed, “the agreement being, she’d kick Dockley’s ass if she tried her shit on Olivia again.”
“Really?” Barbara said in amazement.
“You need to get some more words in your vocabulary, Barbara, honestly,” Nikki quipped.
“Well, good for you,” Yvonne praised. “I think you and I will get along just fine. Besides,” she slyly glanced at Nikki, “any friend of Nikki’s is a friend of mine.”
“Ow!” Barbara exclaimed as she felt a foot sharply connect with her shin.
“Sorry, Babs,” Nikki apologized.
Yvonne grinned knowingly and stood up. “Nature calls, my ladies. I’m sure I’ll see you all later.”
--
--
As they stood in line, Olivia got a chance to get a closer look at the women sharing the prison with her. They seemed to be comprised of all ages, some looking as young as eighteen, others approaching and passing middle age. Her initial instinct was to try and figure which ones were in for what crime, but out of context -out of the familiarity of her own comfort zone as a cop -it was harder than it looked.
“I hope you have enough paper and pens for all the books you’re going to write in here,” Nikki leaned in and whispered slyly.
Olivia gave her a sideways look and shook her head. “I wasn’t analysing anyone,” she whispered in return.
“Of course you weren’t.”
“Next!” came the call from the serving counter.
Olivia stepped up and came face to face with Shell Dockley, who startled upon seeing Benson.
“Careful she doesn’t spit in your food,” Nikki warned.
The blonde sneered. “Shut it, Wade.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Olivia stated coldly. Dockley saw the look and decided to take her own advice. Benson looked down at the selection of food, which comprised of two choices that both looked to be about the same mash of ingredients. Pointing at the first option, Olivia said, “I’ll have some of that.”
Dockley all but slammed it onto the plate and turned to Nikki. “What do you want?”
Benson coughed and got Shell’s attention. “I think I’ll have a bit more.”
Shell made a condescending face and replied, “Well, you only get what you’re allowed. And that’s all you’re allowed.”
Benson leaned forward ever so slightly and repeated, “I think I’ll have a bit more.” It only took Dockley a fraction of a second to make up her mind. With a slight tremble in her hand, she scooped up a spoonful of the mash and put it on Olivia’s plate.
Wade could barely suppress her laugh. She pointed at the same concoction Olivia chose. “I’ll have that.” The slop hit her plate with a loud thud and she moved on, but not before scrunching up her nose and asking, “What’s that awful smell? It smells like someone shit themselves.”
Dockley’s reply of “Bitch” was loud enough for the line to hear, but the two women didn’t bother to turn around and instead walked over to a table on the far side of the room. Nikki slid into a seat and Olivia followed suit.
“Who’s your new friend?” one of the women already at the table asked.
“This is Olivia. She’s from America.” Nikki imparted the last bit of information with an exaggerated tone of awe.
“Ooooh!” the women replied in kind.
Putting a hand on Olivia’s shoulder and putting her at ease, Nikki said, “Yvonne Atkins, this is Olivia Benson. And the lovely woman across from you is Barbara Hunt, as of today, my ex-cellmate.”
“Nice to meet you,” Benson said.
“Yeah,” Yvonne snorted, “it’s a regular Sunday social club.”
“Well, it is nice to meet you, Olivia,” Barbara said.
“Thanks.”
Two women who appeared to be attached at the hip approached the table.
“Nikki, who’s your new friend?” the shorter one asked.
“This is Olivia.”
“Well, hello Olivia…”
“… nice to meet you,” the other finished.
“Olivia,” Nikki informed, “the tall one there would be Julie Johnston. And the other one’s Julie Saunders. To keep things simple, we just call them…”
“The two Julies,” they said in unison.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to that,” Nikki replied.
Yvonne scoffed. “Christ, I haven’t.”
“So, Olivia,” Julie S ventured, “me an’ Jules usually try and figure out what the new girls are in for, you know, for a bit of a laugh. We’ve gotten pretty good over the last few years, haven’t we, Jules?”
“We have.”
“So Jules decided, after overhearing your conversation there with Shell Dockley, completely by accident, mind, that it’s some kind of assault? You look like you can take care of yourself…”
“… and maybe someone tried to pull one on you?” Julie J chimed in.
“Now me, knowing the business as I do…”
“… as you do…”
“I was thinking more along the lines of prostitution.”
Olivia’s eyes doubled in size.
Julie S held out her hands. “Now don’t take that the wrong way, Liv,” she apologized. “Alls I’m sayin’ is, you’ve got a body that I can imagine would be of some use to you, if you get my meaning.”
“I think we all do, Jules, thank you,” Nikki said.
The two Julies brushed aside her reply and looked at Olivia.
“So if it isn’t too much to ask…”
“…what are you in for?”
Benson took note of the reactions around the table. Barbara very politely continued to eat her meal, though Olivia could tell she was paying acute attention. Yvonne was leaning in, her curiosity obvious and overt. Nikki, already knowing the answer also continued eating, only half-listening to Olivia’s response.
“You really want to know?” All interested parties nodded their heads. “Well, it started because I came home early from work one day and found my husband in bed with the mailman.”
Nikki coughed so hard that Yvonne looked over in concern. “Oi. You okay there?”
Hitting her chest to clear the airway, Nikki nodded and took a drink. “I’m fine.”
“Anyway,” Benson continued, “as I stood in the doorway of the bedroom with the meat cleaver in my hand, I played the ‘Either/Or’ game.” She saw the puzzlement on the faces of her audience, so she clarified, “The ‘Either/Or’ game. Either him or him. Either the man I’ve been married to for five years who is banging the mailman, or the mailman who leaves my packages out on the doorstep in the rain.”
“How did you decide?” Julie J asked breathlessly.
Olivia shrugged. “I didn’t. The mailman decided for me. He called out ‘Oh, God!’ and my asshole of a husband said, ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah!’ The mailman said, ‘No, no, no! I mean, oh God, your wife!’ By the time I lunged at them, the mailman was out the bedroom window. Lucky for him, it wasn’t a two-storey house.”
Nikki pressed her lips together to hold in the laugh, but Yvonne had no such qualms. With a full laugh, she swore, “Bastard!”
Julie S bit her finger. “What happened to your husband?”
“We got into a huge knock-down-drag-out fight,” she sighed. “I substituted the sharp cutting pleasure of the cleaver with the satisfaction of hitting him with my fists.”
“I told you she could take care of herself,” Julie J said to her friend.
“Next thing I know, he’s on the floor, bleeding from the head. Cracked his temple on the corner of the dresser he bought me for an anniversary gift. So here I am. Manslaughter. The end.”
“Christ,” the two Julies whispered in tandem.
“Bastard had it coming to him,” Yvonne pronounced. “And you’re only in here because bloody men stick up for their own kind. No woman judge would give that kind of sentence. Bastards.”
Before she could respond, out of the corner of her eye, Olivia saw a small brunette inching her way towards the table. Yvonne was the first to say something.
“What are you doing skulking around, Denny? Speak up.”
Denny stepped forward and fidgeted for a few seconds before glancing down at Olivia and managing, “I was wondering if I could talk to you.”
“Sure.”
“I mean, somewhere private.”
Olivia looked around the table, then back at Denny. “You can say whatever you want to me here, don’t worry.”
Twisting a strand of hair around her finger, she shifted from one foot to the other, unsure of the situation.
“Oh, for God’s sake, spit it out, Denny,” Yvonne ordered.
“I was just… I mean, about earlier. We’re okay you and me, yeah?”
Olivia nodded her understanding. “Denny, what’s passed is past. I don’t hold grudges. But you need to take stock of your life and your friends and figure out what’s best for you. I wasn’t lying back there; you look like a good kid, Denny. Get your shit together.”
Denny gave a shy smile. “You’re all right, Olivia. Thanks.”
When the young girl left, Nikki tapped her forehead and whispered conspiratorially, “She’s a head inspector.”
“Really?” Barbara asked.
Yvonne frowned. “What? You mean a shrink?”
“One and the same.”
“You going to get us all to confess about pissing our beds when we were kids?”
Benson laughed. “There are some things I don’t need to know about the women I’m stuck in prison with.”
A ripple of laughter went around the table.
“Listen, Liv, it was good to meet you, but…”
“… we’ve got to get back to work or…”
“Bodybag will have our tits!”
As the two Julies walked away, Olivia admitted, “I’m getting used to only understanding half of what anyone says around here.”
After another round of laughter faded away, Yvonne tilted her head and asked, “What
was all that about with Denny?”
Nikki jerked her thumb in Olivia’s direction. “She doesn’t like to be called ‘Miss America’.”
Benson gave her a gentle kick under the table. “I had a run-in with her and Shell Dockley earlier today in my cell. After this little accident,” she pointed to the cut on her cheek, “we all came to the agreement that Shell would do her thing and I would do mine.”
“Yeah,” Wade crowed, “the agreement being, she’d kick Dockley’s ass if she tried her shit on Olivia again.”
“Really?” Barbara said in amazement.
“You need to get some more words in your vocabulary, Barbara, honestly,” Nikki quipped.
“Well, good for you,” Yvonne praised. “I think you and I will get along just fine. Besides,” she slyly glanced at Nikki, “any friend of Nikki’s is a friend of mine.”
“Ow!” Barbara exclaimed as she felt a foot sharply connect with her shin.
“Sorry, Babs,” Nikki apologized.
Yvonne grinned knowingly and stood up. “Nature calls, my ladies. I’m sure I’ll see you all later.”
--