Fic: St. Trinian's, Sunlight in Your Eyes, Bella/Saffy, PG
Disclaimer: not mine
Fandom: St. Trinian's (recent movies)
Pairing: Bella/Saffy
Rating: PG, language
Genre: coming of age blah, femslash
Length: 2000+
Warning: homophobia? Unbeta'd. underage kissing (probably underage, I think? idek)
Notes: I'm not even sure this is any good. Written for the rare pairing femslash challenge at femslash_land. Title is from Something for Kate's "Light at the End of the Tunnel". I've also recently re-read a bunch of the Chosen and Defined 'verse, and I'm really hoping I haven't inadvertently plagiarised anything (please please tell me if I have, as a re-read of this fic doesn't kick anything out). (also, that is a much better fic universe, you should go read it)
Summary: Saffy doesn't want to be a lesbian like her mother.
Sunlight In Your Eyes
by ALC Punk!
The thing of it was, Saffy reflected, as she arranged her hair in the mirror, she didn't like girls. Really, and truly. It didn't matter that she'd stared at Bella's bottom in her pin-striped trousers, or eyed her from the side as she stripped down to bracers and boxers, with her breasts just pressing against the fabric of her dress shirt. And it totally didn't matter that a part of her had wanted to grab Bella and press her up against the wall and do the sorts of things the magazines said would keep your bloke happy in the bedroom.
She wasn't a lesbian; she'd sworn to herself that she'd never fall into the same trap her mother had.
Watching her mother in unguarded moments had changed Saffy. From a young age, she'd known her mother didn't truly love her father, that the arguments and recriminations weren't just some simple thing like incompatibility. When he'd finally left them, she'd watched her mother change (oh so slowly, but sometimes, she wonders if that was more for her own benefit), until she wasn't a housewife who dated men.
Successful career women were lauded, and Saffy was even proud of her. She was less proud of the assignations her mother made (in 'secret'), the women who would leave before dawn, the sounds that at twelve she wasn't quite sure she wanted to understand.
Acting out, stealing things, seducing the older boys into mayhem--all of it was something that her counselor had said was 'a cry for attention.'
But it wasn't that. It was proving to herself that she wasn't her mother; she wasn't going to live a marriage she didn't want because the wrong genitalia was attached to her spouse.
St. Trinian's had been a blessing won, after months of recriminations while her mother looked more and more disappointed in her. Getting caught in the back of a car with her maths tutor had been the breaking point.
Nothing had happened, Saffy had shouted that more than once, but no one had listened. Not really.
At St. Trinian's, they didn't care about her past. They did care about her skills. She made friends and quickly found herself a Posh Totty, being not bright enough for the Geeks, and not punk enough for the Rude Girls. Even now, she was still too happy for the Emos. Besides, her bed was next to Bella's, and they liked to trade make-up tips during the middle of the night. It got to be that they'd switch beds as a sort of game, if only to avoid the more virulent of the First Years' booby-traps in the morning (late night movement was harder to track, and a little brat named Lana had it in for Bella, having been denied the chance to nick her Prada backpack one time).
They traded other things, too. Tips for seduction, words and gradations of sound that put the added touch on any call to the hotline (making money off the punters was even more productive when you could be convincing in your innocence and enjoyment). Bella dragged her into shops, showing her quicker, more efficient ways to walk out wearing the latest in designer dresses.
By the time they had risen to the status of co-Leaders of the Posh Totties, they were good friends and better allies.
And it was a good thing they were; Chelsea was smarter than the both of them, even if she liked to hide it (Saffy never bothered speculating why). Having her best friend there to back her up was better than having someone she didn't even really know to back her up (the other option much talked about had been Winifred, and she and Saffy couldn't agree on anything to save their lives).
Not that either of them disliked Chelsea, but Saffy sometimes found herself draped over Bella's bed, whispering in her ear as Bella sat on the floor, head bent over her homework (to be turned in for half-credit, as it was late, anyway), "Sometimes, I don't think she really sees us as more than an extension of herself. Another golden tress to toss over her shoulder."
"Mmm." Bella had less worries on that score, though she would tilt her head and bump her cheek against Saffy's. "We are rather interchangeable--or hadn't you noticed?"
"Like, whatever," was a standard reply to that. Though Saffy mostly didn't mean it. She valued Bella's input, her opinions and ideas (except in the matter of handbags, as, really, crocodile skin? SO very out still), even when they differed from her own.
Which still didn't resolve Saffy's current problem.
They could talk about Chelsea, boys, schoolwork and theft (or fraud, Bella was beginning a good side-line in fraud as she had a certain way with a pen and ink that dazzled even the best experts), but they never talked about feelings.
Sometimes, Saffy almost managed it. Almost sat down next to Bella and choked out her fears. But it was easier to ignore them, easier to hug and touch (happy or sad or indifferent), easier to go with the flow until she found herself watching Bella's ass as she walked across a room in pin-stripe trousers.
Denying that her mouth had gone dry and her pulse had sped up would have been pointless, but Saffy refused to consider it. She wasn't her mother, lesbianism wasn't passed down through ladders or whatever the Geeks called the stuff that knit humans into their bodies. It was simply a new side of her friend, or maybe she liked pin-stripe, or trousers on a girl, or half a dozen other things Saffy was sure her newest counselor (her mother kept hiring them, as though worried that she wasn't over her 'acting-out' phase; Saffy never mentioned that going to St. Trinian's only encouraged it) would attribute the whole thing to the neglect by, or lack of, the father figure in her life.
Growing pains, the last one had called it when she'd tried to confide some of her thoughts.
Saffy was certain that was a stupid thing to say.
And they certainly didn't explain the current situation. Every time she ran into Bella now, a part of her brain immediately waved the image of Bella in drag in front of her mind's eye, and she found herself stammering as she talked to her best friend.
It was ridiculous, and it was stupid, and it had to stop! And soon, before Bella got so fed up with her that she figured it out, or dumped Saffy for someone less stupid sounding.
As though she'd conjured her, Bella appeared behind Saffy in the mirror. Her face was expressionless as she stared at Saffy.
"What?"
"What?" echoed Bella, her hands on her hips.
Saffy frowned, then straightened her lips. Frown lines would look horrible on her, even if plastic surgery would have made even more innovations by the time she'll need it. "Am I late for something?"
Certainly not class. After all, no one truly cared if you were on time for class. It was French, anyway, and Saffy knew her accent was the only thing that needed work there (speaking French got more money out of hotline callers).
With an exasperated sound, Bella dropped onto the stool next to Saffy's, leaning back against the make-up and hairstyle product-littered desk they were currently sharing. "You know what."
"No, I don't."
"Yes you do."
"No--" Saffy jumped as Bella's hand touched her cheek. "What are you--"
Bella kissed her, which should have explained everything about what Bella was doing, but Saffy was stubborn. She wasn't into girls, she wasn't like her mother, she--somewhere in there, she forgot everything she was trying to say in her head and kissed Bella back.
"There," said Bella, leaning back again with something self-satisfied in her expression.
Saffy crossed her arms, "You shouldn't have done that."
"I know."
The simple words made Saffy confused. She frowned, forgetting about her dislike of lines on her face, and shook her head. "How do you know anything?"
"I know you."
With a huff, Saffy got to her feet. It was easier to move, to pace, in her agitation. Besides, that meant she couldn't keep glancing at Bella's mouth, or thinking about Bella in trousers, or wondering if they went out dolled-up if Bella would get more looks in trousers or a skirt (the latter, most definitely).
Bella watched her pace in silence, some of the light leaving her eyes as the silence lengthened. "Saff. It's all right," she finally said. "I get it."
"Don't do it again." Saffy said, her tone firm as she moved to the door. She probably did have to get to class, sometime.
"Why not?"
"Because, I didn't like it," she lied, slamming the door behind her as she stomped out.
She totally failed to notice that she'd left her hair half-done. Not that it mattered--by lunchtime, she'd launched a new hair-wave amongst the First Years.
-=-
"You can't keep avoiding me." Bella's voice drifted quietly between their beds.
It was nearly three in the morning, and Saffy had spent most of the night trying to ignore that her best friend was nearby, that her best friend had kissed her and ruined their friendship, and that her best friend was just as awake as she was, pretending to snore. After four years, it wasn't hard to tell the difference between Bella pretending to be asleep, and Saffy could even tell when Kelly Jones was faking it. Not that it was knowledge she'd pass on to anyone.
She turned on her side, and muttered, "I'm trying to sleep."
Which was probably a lie, she reflected to herself a moment later. She blew out a breath into the ensuing silence and added, "Why did you kiss me?"
The words were too quiet for anyone nearby to hear, and probably unintelligible on CCTV. At least, she hoped they were. The Geeks would probably love to broadcast her romantic troubles to the school at large.
"I thought..." Bella trailed off, and then moved onto the floor so she could shuffle over and lean against Saffy's bed, where the conversation could be continued in even quieter tones. "I thought you wanted me to."
Hot embarrassment flashed through Saffy, the sort of feeling that made her want to hide somewhere. "You've changed things," she snapped, unwilling to allow any interpretation other than the one she'd already decided upon. "Our friendship was perfect before today. And you, you--"
Bella turned her head and murmured, "I wore trousers."
Swallowing, Saffy tried to come up with an answer that wouldn't make her voice crack. "That has nothing to do with it."
"Doesn't it? I wore trousers, and I saw the way you looked at me--" Bella's silhouette changed as she got to her knees and loomed over Saffy. "And it all clicked."
Of their own accord, Saffy's fingers found the front of Bella's night-dress. She told herself to let go, to push Bella away, and found that she didn't want to. "That's stupid. Have you been reading Cosmo again?"
"Are you saying the trousers had nothing to do with it?"
"Yes."
"Then you've always wanted to kiss me?" Bella's head was tilted to one side, her eyes reflecting the moon like a cat's.
All at once, Saffy sat up, pushing her back a little and gaining some ground of her own. "It's complicated, but it's not. I'm not--" she pulled Bella's mouth to hers in order to give herself time to think.
Which was the most ridiculous way to get time to think. Bella's mouth was too distracting for actual thinking, and Saffy found herself sliding her fingers into Bella's hair, tugging at it as she tiled her head more to the side, pulling their lips into a different configuration.
"Saff--" Bella mumbled, the word lost amongst the soft sounds of their kiss.
Pulling away, Saffy panted, trying to get her thoughts in order (since kissing hadn't done the trick, not like it used to with boys). "I... I don't want to be like my mother, I don't want to marry someone I don't really love, I don't want to be abandoned, I don't--"
"Hey." Leaning in, Bella hugged her, mouth pressing a kiss against Saffy's cheek. "Stop panicking. This isn't--we're in school still. This could be just a fling, you know."
"Why now, Bella?"
"I don't know."
There wasn't much comfort in those words, but Saffy took what she could from them and sighed. "I don't know what you think of me."
"You're my best friend, Saff. I just think you're fabulous and silly and wonderful."
"Shut up." She shoved at Bella's shoulder, flushing in embarrassment again.
"Make me."
Saffy slapped her hand over Bella's mouth quite firmly, and leaned her forehead on Bella's shoulder while her friend laughed quietly, her lips tickling the palm of Saffy's hand.
"I have a report to give early," Saffy shoved at Bella again, this time dislodging her a bit. "Go back to bed."
"Will you still respect me in the morning?"
Smacking Bella's shoulder again made Saffy wonder if she were developing violent tendencies that she should worry about. Bella didn't seem to mind, though, laughing softly again before she scrambled back into bed. Saffy pulled her covers up and thumped her pillow once.
"I'm not my mother," she whispered, but there wasn't a reply from anyone. She fell asleep with the memory of Bella's mouth against hers, and Latin declensions echoing in her ears.
The latter could be blamed on the First Years.
-f-
Fandom: St. Trinian's (recent movies)
Pairing: Bella/Saffy
Rating: PG, language
Genre: coming of age blah, femslash
Length: 2000+
Warning: homophobia? Unbeta'd. underage kissing (probably underage, I think? idek)
Notes: I'm not even sure this is any good. Written for the rare pairing femslash challenge at femslash_land. Title is from Something for Kate's "Light at the End of the Tunnel". I've also recently re-read a bunch of the Chosen and Defined 'verse, and I'm really hoping I haven't inadvertently plagiarised anything (please please tell me if I have, as a re-read of this fic doesn't kick anything out). (also, that is a much better fic universe, you should go read it)
Summary: Saffy doesn't want to be a lesbian like her mother.
Sunlight In Your Eyes
by ALC Punk!
The thing of it was, Saffy reflected, as she arranged her hair in the mirror, she didn't like girls. Really, and truly. It didn't matter that she'd stared at Bella's bottom in her pin-striped trousers, or eyed her from the side as she stripped down to bracers and boxers, with her breasts just pressing against the fabric of her dress shirt. And it totally didn't matter that a part of her had wanted to grab Bella and press her up against the wall and do the sorts of things the magazines said would keep your bloke happy in the bedroom.
She wasn't a lesbian; she'd sworn to herself that she'd never fall into the same trap her mother had.
Watching her mother in unguarded moments had changed Saffy. From a young age, she'd known her mother didn't truly love her father, that the arguments and recriminations weren't just some simple thing like incompatibility. When he'd finally left them, she'd watched her mother change (oh so slowly, but sometimes, she wonders if that was more for her own benefit), until she wasn't a housewife who dated men.
Successful career women were lauded, and Saffy was even proud of her. She was less proud of the assignations her mother made (in 'secret'), the women who would leave before dawn, the sounds that at twelve she wasn't quite sure she wanted to understand.
Acting out, stealing things, seducing the older boys into mayhem--all of it was something that her counselor had said was 'a cry for attention.'
But it wasn't that. It was proving to herself that she wasn't her mother; she wasn't going to live a marriage she didn't want because the wrong genitalia was attached to her spouse.
St. Trinian's had been a blessing won, after months of recriminations while her mother looked more and more disappointed in her. Getting caught in the back of a car with her maths tutor had been the breaking point.
Nothing had happened, Saffy had shouted that more than once, but no one had listened. Not really.
At St. Trinian's, they didn't care about her past. They did care about her skills. She made friends and quickly found herself a Posh Totty, being not bright enough for the Geeks, and not punk enough for the Rude Girls. Even now, she was still too happy for the Emos. Besides, her bed was next to Bella's, and they liked to trade make-up tips during the middle of the night. It got to be that they'd switch beds as a sort of game, if only to avoid the more virulent of the First Years' booby-traps in the morning (late night movement was harder to track, and a little brat named Lana had it in for Bella, having been denied the chance to nick her Prada backpack one time).
They traded other things, too. Tips for seduction, words and gradations of sound that put the added touch on any call to the hotline (making money off the punters was even more productive when you could be convincing in your innocence and enjoyment). Bella dragged her into shops, showing her quicker, more efficient ways to walk out wearing the latest in designer dresses.
By the time they had risen to the status of co-Leaders of the Posh Totties, they were good friends and better allies.
And it was a good thing they were; Chelsea was smarter than the both of them, even if she liked to hide it (Saffy never bothered speculating why). Having her best friend there to back her up was better than having someone she didn't even really know to back her up (the other option much talked about had been Winifred, and she and Saffy couldn't agree on anything to save their lives).
Not that either of them disliked Chelsea, but Saffy sometimes found herself draped over Bella's bed, whispering in her ear as Bella sat on the floor, head bent over her homework (to be turned in for half-credit, as it was late, anyway), "Sometimes, I don't think she really sees us as more than an extension of herself. Another golden tress to toss over her shoulder."
"Mmm." Bella had less worries on that score, though she would tilt her head and bump her cheek against Saffy's. "We are rather interchangeable--or hadn't you noticed?"
"Like, whatever," was a standard reply to that. Though Saffy mostly didn't mean it. She valued Bella's input, her opinions and ideas (except in the matter of handbags, as, really, crocodile skin? SO very out still), even when they differed from her own.
Which still didn't resolve Saffy's current problem.
They could talk about Chelsea, boys, schoolwork and theft (or fraud, Bella was beginning a good side-line in fraud as she had a certain way with a pen and ink that dazzled even the best experts), but they never talked about feelings.
Sometimes, Saffy almost managed it. Almost sat down next to Bella and choked out her fears. But it was easier to ignore them, easier to hug and touch (happy or sad or indifferent), easier to go with the flow until she found herself watching Bella's ass as she walked across a room in pin-stripe trousers.
Denying that her mouth had gone dry and her pulse had sped up would have been pointless, but Saffy refused to consider it. She wasn't her mother, lesbianism wasn't passed down through ladders or whatever the Geeks called the stuff that knit humans into their bodies. It was simply a new side of her friend, or maybe she liked pin-stripe, or trousers on a girl, or half a dozen other things Saffy was sure her newest counselor (her mother kept hiring them, as though worried that she wasn't over her 'acting-out' phase; Saffy never mentioned that going to St. Trinian's only encouraged it) would attribute the whole thing to the neglect by, or lack of, the father figure in her life.
Growing pains, the last one had called it when she'd tried to confide some of her thoughts.
Saffy was certain that was a stupid thing to say.
And they certainly didn't explain the current situation. Every time she ran into Bella now, a part of her brain immediately waved the image of Bella in drag in front of her mind's eye, and she found herself stammering as she talked to her best friend.
It was ridiculous, and it was stupid, and it had to stop! And soon, before Bella got so fed up with her that she figured it out, or dumped Saffy for someone less stupid sounding.
As though she'd conjured her, Bella appeared behind Saffy in the mirror. Her face was expressionless as she stared at Saffy.
"What?"
"What?" echoed Bella, her hands on her hips.
Saffy frowned, then straightened her lips. Frown lines would look horrible on her, even if plastic surgery would have made even more innovations by the time she'll need it. "Am I late for something?"
Certainly not class. After all, no one truly cared if you were on time for class. It was French, anyway, and Saffy knew her accent was the only thing that needed work there (speaking French got more money out of hotline callers).
With an exasperated sound, Bella dropped onto the stool next to Saffy's, leaning back against the make-up and hairstyle product-littered desk they were currently sharing. "You know what."
"No, I don't."
"Yes you do."
"No--" Saffy jumped as Bella's hand touched her cheek. "What are you--"
Bella kissed her, which should have explained everything about what Bella was doing, but Saffy was stubborn. She wasn't into girls, she wasn't like her mother, she--somewhere in there, she forgot everything she was trying to say in her head and kissed Bella back.
"There," said Bella, leaning back again with something self-satisfied in her expression.
Saffy crossed her arms, "You shouldn't have done that."
"I know."
The simple words made Saffy confused. She frowned, forgetting about her dislike of lines on her face, and shook her head. "How do you know anything?"
"I know you."
With a huff, Saffy got to her feet. It was easier to move, to pace, in her agitation. Besides, that meant she couldn't keep glancing at Bella's mouth, or thinking about Bella in trousers, or wondering if they went out dolled-up if Bella would get more looks in trousers or a skirt (the latter, most definitely).
Bella watched her pace in silence, some of the light leaving her eyes as the silence lengthened. "Saff. It's all right," she finally said. "I get it."
"Don't do it again." Saffy said, her tone firm as she moved to the door. She probably did have to get to class, sometime.
"Why not?"
"Because, I didn't like it," she lied, slamming the door behind her as she stomped out.
She totally failed to notice that she'd left her hair half-done. Not that it mattered--by lunchtime, she'd launched a new hair-wave amongst the First Years.
-=-
"You can't keep avoiding me." Bella's voice drifted quietly between their beds.
It was nearly three in the morning, and Saffy had spent most of the night trying to ignore that her best friend was nearby, that her best friend had kissed her and ruined their friendship, and that her best friend was just as awake as she was, pretending to snore. After four years, it wasn't hard to tell the difference between Bella pretending to be asleep, and Saffy could even tell when Kelly Jones was faking it. Not that it was knowledge she'd pass on to anyone.
She turned on her side, and muttered, "I'm trying to sleep."
Which was probably a lie, she reflected to herself a moment later. She blew out a breath into the ensuing silence and added, "Why did you kiss me?"
The words were too quiet for anyone nearby to hear, and probably unintelligible on CCTV. At least, she hoped they were. The Geeks would probably love to broadcast her romantic troubles to the school at large.
"I thought..." Bella trailed off, and then moved onto the floor so she could shuffle over and lean against Saffy's bed, where the conversation could be continued in even quieter tones. "I thought you wanted me to."
Hot embarrassment flashed through Saffy, the sort of feeling that made her want to hide somewhere. "You've changed things," she snapped, unwilling to allow any interpretation other than the one she'd already decided upon. "Our friendship was perfect before today. And you, you--"
Bella turned her head and murmured, "I wore trousers."
Swallowing, Saffy tried to come up with an answer that wouldn't make her voice crack. "That has nothing to do with it."
"Doesn't it? I wore trousers, and I saw the way you looked at me--" Bella's silhouette changed as she got to her knees and loomed over Saffy. "And it all clicked."
Of their own accord, Saffy's fingers found the front of Bella's night-dress. She told herself to let go, to push Bella away, and found that she didn't want to. "That's stupid. Have you been reading Cosmo again?"
"Are you saying the trousers had nothing to do with it?"
"Yes."
"Then you've always wanted to kiss me?" Bella's head was tilted to one side, her eyes reflecting the moon like a cat's.
All at once, Saffy sat up, pushing her back a little and gaining some ground of her own. "It's complicated, but it's not. I'm not--" she pulled Bella's mouth to hers in order to give herself time to think.
Which was the most ridiculous way to get time to think. Bella's mouth was too distracting for actual thinking, and Saffy found herself sliding her fingers into Bella's hair, tugging at it as she tiled her head more to the side, pulling their lips into a different configuration.
"Saff--" Bella mumbled, the word lost amongst the soft sounds of their kiss.
Pulling away, Saffy panted, trying to get her thoughts in order (since kissing hadn't done the trick, not like it used to with boys). "I... I don't want to be like my mother, I don't want to marry someone I don't really love, I don't want to be abandoned, I don't--"
"Hey." Leaning in, Bella hugged her, mouth pressing a kiss against Saffy's cheek. "Stop panicking. This isn't--we're in school still. This could be just a fling, you know."
"Why now, Bella?"
"I don't know."
There wasn't much comfort in those words, but Saffy took what she could from them and sighed. "I don't know what you think of me."
"You're my best friend, Saff. I just think you're fabulous and silly and wonderful."
"Shut up." She shoved at Bella's shoulder, flushing in embarrassment again.
"Make me."
Saffy slapped her hand over Bella's mouth quite firmly, and leaned her forehead on Bella's shoulder while her friend laughed quietly, her lips tickling the palm of Saffy's hand.
"I have a report to give early," Saffy shoved at Bella again, this time dislodging her a bit. "Go back to bed."
"Will you still respect me in the morning?"
Smacking Bella's shoulder again made Saffy wonder if she were developing violent tendencies that she should worry about. Bella didn't seem to mind, though, laughing softly again before she scrambled back into bed. Saffy pulled her covers up and thumped her pillow once.
"I'm not my mother," she whispered, but there wasn't a reply from anyone. She fell asleep with the memory of Bella's mouth against hers, and Latin declensions echoing in her ears.
The latter could be blamed on the First Years.
-f-