Doors (part 1 / 3)
Title: Doors (part 1 / 3)
Fandom: Bad Girls
Pairing: Helen / Nikki
Rating: +18
Summary: Some doors aren't always physical.
Archiving: P&P always.
Disclaimer: Yeah, like I own them. Pshhhh.
AN: Set as an alternate take on episode 2 of series 2, diverting from the end of the episode instead of Nikki being shipped out of Larkhall and Helen resigning. In this version, Nikki’s stint on the block - with her memorable lines of “stick your tongue down my throat” and “I wanna make love to you all night long” - have resulted in a massive fight between the two women and strained their relationship more than a bit. Fenner still discovered Shell was behind the phone calls, since Nikki was double-locked in solitary at the time, but he didn’t beat her up, preferring to stick her on the block with a promise of heading to the Muppet Wing when she got out. Hence, he hasn’t been suspended, because Shell was too afraid to grass. Since the plot’s rather farther along than it would have been, Zandra’s also died - I always thought Helen should have been at the memorial - and Shaz is happily holed up with Denny and Crystal in the four-bed dorm.
AN2: This was originally a random short meant for the Turbolift challenge, Earth-style - Ralst mentioned Helen / Nikki getting stuck in a cell, and it was just too good to pass up. Then it became a cliche piece, then an IDF, and now just a "hey, I wondered where I saved that!" and nowhere near as short as I hoped. xD Anyone that doesn't know already, it's a first-time story - I love writing 'em.
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“So you’re telling us this door is stuck for the whole bloody night?!”
Helen stood in front of the aforementioned door with her arms folded across her chest, dumbfounded fury radiating from every inch of her five foot, four inch frame. Half-sprawled on the bed, Nikki eyed her new ‘cellmate’ with a mixture of amused affection and respect. The Scot’s current extremely-casual attire - low-slung jeans, an open sapphire overshirt, navy halter top and short boots - did absolutely nothing to lessen the force of her shock and rage. She really was elemental when she got going, the lifer mused. A veritable force of nature.
Unfortunately, that didn’t bode well for the rest of the staff clustered outside. “Who the hell’s bloody mad idea was this?!?” Her accent rolled out thick enough to step on, sending a delicious tingle straight through the brunette behind her.
“I’m sorry, m’am.” On the other side, Dominic sounded quite embarrassed. “It seems the only way to get it open without the codes is to cut away the hinges using special equipment.”
“Which we don’t have.” Nikki didn’t need to see Fenner’s face to know he had on that smug, self-satisfied expression she so loathed. “It seems you’re well and truly stuck in there until the timer opens tomorrow morning.”
Helen’s face darkened, and Nikki bit back a wince. This whole stupid circus had started simply enough. The Home Office had decided they wanted to test a new type of cell system they’d built from an American prototype, and naturally, they’d picked G-wing of Larkhall to do it. After two weeks of wicked-fast construction, the first room was completed; as large and ‘well-furnished’ as the other Enhanced cells on G3, its crowning feature was a massive metal door nearly a foot thick, wired with a specialized electric circuit and timer. Once the appropriate time rolled around, the circuit charged, and the door automatically locked until the set release time. Since it was electric, one would need a passcode to open it rather than normal keys, and prisoners couldn’t break the charge as easily as they might a regular lock. Even better, it had temporary passcodes, which unlocked the circuit for a certain length of time before automatically recharging the system.
As Wing Governor, Helen had been required to attend the low-key ‘dedication,’ though she’d completely forgotten about it until two minutes before. She’d been having a decently-friendly chat with Nikki in her office about the upcoming exams - one of the first real talks they’d managed since the whole argument on the block - and they’d ended up running into the screws on the way back to the dorm. Fenner, slimy bastard that he was, had obviously noticed the thick tension crackling between the women earlier, and he’d convinced Stubberfield that having an inmate there to test out the system would be perfect. When Helen protested, the way Fenner just knew that she would, he’d offered for her to go in as well. With both prisoner and Governor inside, they’d tested the door and pronounced it solid. Everything seemed to be going just fine -
At least, until the idiots had realized there were no temporary codes programmed into the system, and there was no current code for an override. With the system fully charged, there was literally no way to let the two of them out until nine o’clock tomorrow morning.
Nikki had quickly realized the conversation was best left between screws, and stilled her natural impulse to butt in, settling herself out of the way with her mouth shut instead. Besides, it gave her a rare opportunity to watch Helen in action. The Wing Governor looked twice as beautiful when she was raging, though Nikki had no idea how that was possible.
And she was certainly raging now, the lifer smiled privately. Every muscle torqued, back rigid, feet set and emerald eyes literally snapping with electricity. Helen hissed an infuriated breath through her teeth. “Can’t you reset the bloody opening time?”
“’Fraid not, m’am.” Now Fenner sounded positively gleeful beneath his usual oil-smooth tones. “It requires the master override to do that, and we don’t have one programmed in yet. I believe the request for authorization was on your desk this morning.”
Nikki grimaced at that. Uh-oh. The Scot looked about to royally explode, Governing Governor Stubberfield be damned. And as much fun as it would be to listen to Helen ripping Jim Fenner a new arsehole - something the brunette had no doubt would be great fun indeed - she couldn’t let her beloved Wing Governor do that kind of damage to herself. Sliding gracefully from the bed, Nikki padded up behind Helen to set a gentle hand on the younger woman’s shoulder. “Easy, Helen.” Deliberately, she pitched her voice too low for anyone outside to hear, leaning forward until her lips almost brushed the blonde’s flushed ear. “Not even Fenner could be this bloody stupid on purpose. Much as I’d like to blame the bastard, it’s not his fault. He’s just digging the knife in because he can.”
Oh, God. The furious tension in Helen’s body fled quite abruptly at the first touch of Nikki’s fingers, rushing from her so suddenly her knees turned to rubber. She had no idea how such simple contact could be so soothing and strangely electrifying at the same time. And that soft tone, like dark, melting chocolate, with the barest hint of breathiness thrown in - it wasn’t just a sound, it was a heated caress, sending legions of sparks skipping across her nerves. Helen swallowed hard, her rage vanishing without a trace as she tried to keep the shock from showing naked on her face. Her body had never reacted like that before . . . not with Sean, not with anyone. How did you do that to me, Nikki? After a few more seconds of silent, heart-stopping closeness, the blonde cleared her throat faintly and managed to find her voice. “I know.” She whispered, mock-petulant. “I still don’t have to like it.”
Nikki burst into quiet laughter, and Helen found herself relaxing enough to smile back at the brunette, wanting to see more of that easy joy with a surprising intensity. “I guess it could have been worse. I could be in here with someone horrible, like Dockley or Hollamby.”
“Or Fenner.” Nikki smirked, mahogany gaze warming at the backhanded compliment. A grimace of utter disgust from Helen answered the teasing comment; their eyes met, and somehow, that was all it took. In seconds, both were engulfed with hushed giggles like a pair of giddy schoolgirls, heads almost touching, Helen half-leaning back into Nikki’s chest as the lifer’s arm curled around the Scot’s slender waist.
Catching her breath, Nikki couldn’t help the slight squeeze she gave the curved hip beneath her hand, an almost absentminded gesture as her heart swelled. Oh, how she’d missed this in the last few days. Being allowed close to Helen, to see her unguarded and happy - it was a treasure, made all the more important by how close she’d come to losing it. Warmth curled in the brunette’s belly, and she resolutely pushed it away. If the price she had to pay for this friendship was physical frustration, then so be it. She couldn’t, wouldn’t give Helen up.
Helen rested her forehead lightly against Nikki’s shoulder with a soft, happy sigh, unable to fight the smile tugging at her lips. It only grew wider when she felt Nikki’s gentle caress at her waist, her body relaxing into the loose embrace all the more. How horribly ironic, she reflected, that it was here - locked on the wrong side of the bars - that she felt safer than she had in years.
Here in the arms of a murderer - a murderer you care for more than almost anything else in the world -
“Hel - Miss Stewart, ma’am?” Dominic’s worried voice broke through their shared haze, and Nikki blinked, Helen shaking herself slightly as if waking from a dream. “Are you alright?”
“Oh - yes, Dom.” Watching Helen’s mouth as they drew apart slightly, Nikki was amused to notice her licking her lips, a quick, absent gesture more erotic than it had any right to be. “I’m alright, it’s fine.”
Actually, Nikki realized, that wasn’t quite honest - the emerald eyes she so loved to gaze at were faintly clouded, just a bit dazed. If she hadn’t known better, the brunette would have sworn she was seeing the beginnings of lust flaring there. No, Helen made that perfectly clear. I won’t risk losing her friendship like that again.
“Helen?” Governing Governor Stubberfield had flipped open the small panel set into the center of the door, peering through it worriedly. The tall lifer had a private moment of relief that he hadn’t done it a few seconds sooner; that certainly would have made for some awkward explaining. “Helen, bloody hell, I’m so sorry about all this - ”
“No, Simon, it’s just fine.” Helen waved a hand, knowing her casual tone had to be annoying the hell out of Fenner. Well, good. She thought rebelliously. This wasn’t so very bad at all, everything considered. There was a decently comfortable bed for each of them, a toilet and sink, towels, a few books - all good reads she’d brought from home for Nikki to look at - and better company than most people in the prison, inmate or guard. A warm flush rolled through her veins at that thought, but Helen ignored it, focusing instead on the positive. It was only for one night, after all. If they could expect the prisoners to stay in their cells without complaint, surely she could stick out this little bit of time?
She said as much to Simon, minus the part about her company, of course, since it would only give Fenner more ammunition. A rather wicked smile touched her lips; she didn’t have to see Stubberfield’s face to know the wheels were turning in his devious little brain. “Wing Governor personally tests out new prison updates” - oh, the PR that will make. Smarmy bastard.
“Well, the least we can do is make sure you have some comfortable things.” A bit of scuffling came from the other side of the door, and a parcel of folded cloth was pushed through the slot. Unfurling the offering, Helen found a pair of standard prison pajamas in dark gray, along with a spaghetti-strap top and sleeping pants that were obviously Nikki’s. She passed the second set to her cellmate, who raised an eyebrow silently. Di Barker’s voice came through the door, slightly winded. “We asked Barbara to gather your pajamas, Nikki. Sorry about this - ”
“Don’t worry, D - miss.” Nikki smiled. There was something odd about Barker, no doubt about that, but it was still a nice thing for her to say. And even nicer that Di had run off to snag something that belonged to Nikki herself. It fit with the suspicion she’d already formed, listening to the muttered conversations and scurrying outside while Helen worked over Stubberfield; that Miss Betts, Dominic and Di, at least, wanted to make sure they were both comfortable, not just suck up to the Wing Governor. As if Helen wouldn’t see through a screw’s pet in an instant anyway. “Beats a night in strips on the block, no questions.”
Helen swatted at her, and stifled laughter from the other side pointed to ‘their’ guards being just as amused. Someone else - the lifer would’ve bet money on Hollamby - gave a disgusted sort of huff. “Best watch yourself, Wade, or you’ll get just that.”
Oh, piss off - Nikki opened her mouth to snap back. Then she caught sight of Helen’s anxious, warning eyes. Don’t say it. They seemed to plead. Don’t give Fenner any more ammunition, you know he’ll use it. Slender fingers threaded through hers, squeezing softly, the unspoken ‘please’ as obvious as if it had been shouted from the top of Larkhall. Taking a sharp, calming breath - for more than one reason - the brunette nodded. Instead of sarcasm, her voice came out with almost passable sincerity. “I will, Miss, I will.”
The shining pride that rose like the sun in the Scot’s face far outweighed the blow to Nikki’s own ego . . . though it certainly helped to hear Fenner’s disbelieving snort through the metal slab. A few more inane niceties, and most of the screws headed back off down the wing. Dominic stayed behind, bending so he could see the pair of them. “I’ll round up something to eat from the kitchens, Helen, Nikki.” He spoke quietly. “And I’ll make sure the night watch checks on you two from time to time, okay?”
Both women nodded, and the young guard looked chagrined. “I’m really sorry about this whole thing.”
“Don’t worry about it, Dom.” Helen glanced at Nikki, smiling faintly. “Honestly, I can think of worse ways to spend the night.”
Nikki nodded again, heart double-thumping traitorously. As Dominic said goodbye and moved off along the landing, the brunette turned her smirking grin to Helen. “Right, miss.” She teased.
“What shall we do now?”
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“I think I’d miss the music.”
Nikki raised an eyebrow, towel paused halfway to her face as she glanced at the Wing Governor in the mirror. It had only been a couple hours since the officers had officially left them alone. Dom’d made good on his promise to bring them up some sandwiches; he’d also brought an extra set of pillows and the necessary toiletries before he left to help with lockdown. The food had been decent enough, if a bit more bland than she suspected the younger woman was used to. They’d eaten sitting at opposite ends of one bed, facing each other and ignoring the bedlam around them, almost like some sort of indoor picnic. Afterwards, they’d decided to wash up, Nikki gallantly insisting that Helen go first.
A lascivious smirk flitted through Nikki’s mind. Of course, the fact that it had let her watch the gorgeous Scot half-bent over the sink all the sooner had absolutely nothing to do with the gesture. But still, judging from that last comment, she seemed to have missed something while washing behind her ears. “Music?”
Leaning against the wall at the head of the bed, Helen grinned, sidetracked for a moment by the image of Nikki with water dripping from her chin and cheeks. It was strangely cute. Too bad you don’t get to see her with water dripping everywhere. Her subconscious snickered, the thought flashing through her mind too fast to register.
“If I were really an inmate.” She clarified instead, motioning toward the cell at large. “I’d miss having the chance to listen to my favorite music anytime I wanted.”
“You’d probably miss good books, too.” Nikki agreed, setting her towel aside and bracing her own back against the wall near the window. As much as she enjoyed being here with Helen, lounging next to her on the bed probably wasn’t a smart idea just now. There were limits to her self-control, after all. She folded her arms, another smile curving her mouth. The damned things had been pretty much constant since they’d been locked up in here, and she hadn’t been able to do a thing about it. Not that she wanted to, really.
“And liquor.” A bright laugh burst from Helen as she saw the shocked look on Nikki’s face. “Oh, come on, I am Scottish. I do fancy a good brew every now and then.”
The brunette’s smile turned to a smirk. “And here I thought you were a proper straight up screw.” She teased. Helen rolled her eyes and threw one of the pillows at the lifer, both of them breaking into laughter. “Yeah, well, don’t let it get around. Sneaking books to inmates, going out pub-crawling - how would it look to the Home Office, eh?”
“You go pub-crawling?” Nikki’s eyes sparkled, ready to snap back a retort, then shut her mouth suddenly when a low yell reached her ears. The shout came again, and both eyebrows rose. What are they yelling for?
“Nikki, what is it? What’s the matter?” Helen moved instinctively toward the edge of the bed, concern etched into her face and burring her voice. Realizing she’d worried the Scot, Nikki held up a calming hand. “Listen.” She commanded, turning to open the windows.
Listen? Frowning, Helen concentrated, ears proverbially perked. In all honesty, she’d been doing her best to shut out the numerous catcalls and shouts from what seemed like every corner of the wing. Not that she hadn’t heard this kind of thing before, but honestly, how did Nikki get to sleep at night with all this racket?
Then again, she might use this time for something other than sleeping. Her subconscious piped up again with gleeful relish. Helen’s mouth went dry, both at the lewd insinuation and the surprisingly vivid image it produced. My god. Heat flooded her face. What was she thinking? Imagining an inmate that way, of all the mad ideas! Besides, she very much doubted Nikki would be - pleasuring herself, the voice supplied - with Barbara lying in the next bed. The brunette had a higher sense of dignity than that, Helen was quite sure.
Never thought you’d be happy Nikki has a roommate, did’ja?
Meanwhile, the unwitting object of the Scot’s mental debate had pulled open one of the windows, putting her face close to the bars before calling back. “Yeah, Juls, I’m here!”
“Bloody well took you long enough!” Came the response, though it was Yvonne rather than either of the Julies. “Been having a bleedin’ manicure?”
“Piss off, ’vonne.” Nikki yelled, though a broad grin flashed across her face all the same. Drawn from her inner argument, Helen’s eyes sparkled affectionately as she watched that rare but familiar expression appear. The brunette obviously liked Yvonne Atkins - and as far as Helen was concerned, that was all to the good. Nikki would certainly be a calming influence on the gangster’s wife. And doesn’t that just take the cake.
“Oi, both of you shut it already!” Crystal’s voice floated up from the first floor, followed by a round of laughter that could only come from Denny and Shaz. In the returning almost-quiet, one of the Julies took up the conversation, though Helen couldn’t for the life of her tell which it was that spoke. “You doin’ okay, Nik?”
Nikki flashed a warm smile across the room, which Helen returned. “Just fine, Jules. Miss Stewart says hello.” Several delighted squeals and calls of “Hello Miss Stewart” from up and down the wing answered that statement, along with a sharp, braying laugh that had to come from a certain psychotic screw’s pet. Instantly, Yvonne’s voice cut in. “Piss off, Dockley, no one’s talking to you.”
Helen’s lips twitched, and she had to try hard not to laugh. Not that she approved, of course . . . as Wing Governor, it wouldn’t be appropriate. Still, it was a bit funny, and she did appreciate the protective gesture, especially from Yvonne. Nikki’s gaze flicked quickly in the Scot’s direction, gentle heat rushing through her at the sight of that tongue-in-cheek smile. She loved that expression so much, but even more, she adored seeing the real Helen peeking through her proper, rule-bound shell. Flashing a happy, crooked grin at the younger woman, she moved her attention back to the window. “What’s up, you lot?”
The answer came from just below, more serious than usual for the Julies. “Got some stuff, Nikki - we bagged it for ya.”
Ohhh. That explains it. She hadn’t thought that her friends would risk getting harassed by the screws for just a goodnight, but this - yeah, this made sense. They’d put together some kind of package for her while she was stuck in here, and they wanted to ‘send’ it the usual way. But they were worried about Helen being with her. So they’re gonna let me choose, eh?
This could totally blow up in her face, but - “Give me a tick!” She yelled back out the window, stepping away with a faint frown. For a few moments, there was silence as she thought hard. It all came down to trust, didn’t it? Did she trust Helen with this information? Nikki’s gaze lifted to the blonde, standing a few paces from the bed, worry warring with confusion across her face. From the guarded tones of her fellow inmates, she knew they were letting her make the choice - whatever she decided to do, they would abide by. But it really wasn’t any choice at all, was it? Every fiber of her being trusted Helen, no matter how hard she might try to pretend otherwise.
Moving over until she stood right next to the Wing Governor, Nikki bent close, knowing a guard could pass by to check on them any second. “Hel. I need you to promise me something.” She kept her voice low as wide, intent green eyes turned up to meet hers. “You can’t let any of the other screws know what you’re about to see, and you can’t use it against us. Please, promise me, Helen.”
Promise? Helen blinked, unable to turn away from the dark, coffee-colored depths of Nikki’s gaze. They were so close now each exhale from the brunette ghosted over Helen’s face, the warmth setting her pulse racing even as it sent goosebumps down her spine. The sensation was dizzying, more intoxicating than any alcohol. In that moment, Helen knew, she couldn’t have denied Nikki anything. Her own voice came out breathless, almost a whisper. “I promise.”
The low murmur probably wasn’t meant to be sultry, but it still hit Nikki deep in the gut. My god, Helen, don’t talk that way. Between the heat of their bodies’ closeness and the warmth reflected from those deep, dusky emeralds, it was enough to set the brunette on fire. Swallowing hard, she stepped away before she did something stupid, mixed longing and relief giving way to a sassy smirk as she slipped back into their usual banter. “Sit tight then, gov.”
“Cheeky sod!” Helen fought to keep the flush from showing across her fairer skin, folding her arms and fixing Nikki’s back with a mock-glare instead. Her heart was still pounding from their almost-contact, invisible electricity dancing madly up and down her flesh. What was going on? It wasn’t enough that the lifer’s touch could completely derail her thinking - now just Nikki’s nearness sent her reeling?
And don’t even think about that kiss. Again, that small voice in the back of her thoughts cut in mockingly. Her lips, so soft and sensual, caressing yours - her arms, gently holding you close - your eyes closed, that low, aching noise in your throat, your mouth tingling and wanting and following hers -
Helen physically shook herself, pushing that particular memory back into the deepest recesses of her mind. No, she wouldn’t think about that! Maybe she wasn’t engaged anymore, but she was straight! Nikki was a friend, a good friend, but nothing like that!
Speaking of which, what was Nikki doing at the window?
The brunette, meanwhile, had returned to her position at the bars. “Oi, Jules, it’s good.” She called softly. “Send it on up.”
There was a low cheer from several cells, and a moment later came the sound of one of the Julies singing - again, Helen had no idea which one, or even what song, only that it was enough to drown out most of the lingering shouts. Nikki was peering intently down and to the side, stretching out one arm into the dark night. “Almost . . . little higher . . . little higher . . . ” Her shoulder jerked suddenly, and her handsome face brightened into a triumphant grin. “Got it!”
Helen’s eyebrows lifted nearly to her hairline as the lifer stepped back toward the center of the cell, revealing her prize - a sheet-wrapped bundle, tied together in a massive knot at the top, almost too big to fit through the gap. How in the hell had they done that? Then deep green eyes focused on the knot. There was a long ‘rope’ of more torn, fraying cloth attached there, and if she wasn’t mistaken, it had started life as another bedsheet. They set up a swinger. The Scot shook her head in utter wonder. To figure out the speed of the arch, the length of the rope and the angle of the swing, in the dark, all while trying to keep the guards both inside and outside from noticing . . . it really was an impressive feat. “Do this often, do you?”
Nikki glanced up and smirked, realizing Helen’s tone wasn’t disapproval but teasing admiration. “Me? Oh no, miss.” She gave the Wing Governor her best innocent expression, voice mock-earnest. “I’m good as gold, miss, I swear it.”
It probably would have been better without the package in her hands, but the joke did the trick. Helen tossed her head back and laughed, the kind of deep, almost dirty belly laugh that always made Nikki’s entire body throb. Out on the landing, Bodybag’s furious voice rose suddenly, stamping all over the Julies’ singing. “That’s enough out of you lot! Next one I hear disturbing the other prisoners is put on report, see if I don’t!”
The song stopped, and quiet descended on the wing, broken only by the noise of the guards walking their rounds and soft murmurs from cellmates speaking to each other on the first and second floors. Helen ducked her head, looking quite amused - and just a bit wry. “I suppose it’d be bad form to admit I want to yell out, just to see what she’d do.”
Nikki burst into laughter, dropping cross-legged onto the floor and setting the package between them. “That, miss, I’d pay good money to see.” Grinning, she waited for Helen to settle across from her before going to work on the knots. Privately she wondered what on earth the Julies had sent to them. Whatever it was clinked and clanked, rustling at odd intervals. Or was it just the Julies? Was any of it meant for Helen?
She was answered a second later as the bundle opened, revealing an assortment of things - and a piece of paper resting on top, covered in Julie S.’s careful hand.
“Nikki,” the note read, “hope you and Miss Stewart are doing okay. We all know it’s tough for you two, so we put together some things for ya. The sweets are from Den and Shaz - ”
“Where on earth did they find all these?” Helen laughed, rummaging through the various plastic-wrapped packages. There was quite a haul; several different types of cookies, a postcard-size box of chocolates, and a good half dozen individual cinnamon rolls. Nikki shook her head. “Probably from the kitchens.” She remarked. They might have acted like small children most of the time, but Den and Shaz both possessed an ingenuity that never seemed to fail.
“ - the nail polish is from Crystal - ” The brunette held up two bottles in her free hand as she spoke, one a deep purple and the other a soft, dusky red, “ - and the whiskey is from Barbara and Yvonne. The smokes are from all of us, but hang out the window, would ya Nik? No need to choke out the Gov.”
A plastic water bottle was unearthed from the mound of snacks, and Helen’s slow, astonished grin as she sniffed the opening left no doubt as to what it contained. Setting it aside, the blonde tugged out a package of cigarettes, then looked up at her ‘cellmate’ and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me there’s more?”
Having skipped ahead some, Nikki nodded, laughing as she spilled the sweets out onto the concrete floor and straightened the bedsheet that had held them. Helen stared at the large cloth with a puzzled expression. “Nik, what - why did they - ”
“We wanted to send you some music, but we couldn’t, so Barbara helped us make a Twister mat instead. There’s no spinner, so we made up a list of moves - all ya have to do is flip a coin to see who goes first.” Finding a second sheet of paper folded in the bounty, the lifer plucked it free and passed it to Helen. As the Scot scanned the offering, Nikki finished, “Try to sleep well, and we’ll see you in the morning.”
Shaking her head, the brunette chuckled softly, amused and rather awed by her friends’ gifts. She knew at least Barbara had already guessed her not-so-well-hidden secret love for the Wing Governor; probably Yvonne and Crystal had their suspicions as well, especially after the row they’d had and her stint on the block. Twister and whiskey, of all the possibilities. “Mad, the lot of them.” She muttered almost under her breath. Oh, she could just imagine all the ways for this to blow up in her face.
Helen, on the other hand, found herself completely and utterly touched. “They’re - this is so sweet.” Her mouth curved into a soft smile, she trailed light fingertips over the small treasure trove as though they were priceless gems, eyes bright like a child’s on Christmas. Then a sudden worry flicked across her face, and her wandering hand closed unconsciously over Nikki’s. “But how will we get it out of here before they find it tomorrow?”
Not Fenner or the guards, or even a ‘you’ getting the contraband out while Helen looked the other way. No, it was ‘we’ and ‘they,’ straight from the heart. Nikki’s own heart leapt, understanding more than the words themselves could ever convey. In that simple sentence, Helen had united herself with the prisoners - she was determined to protect this precious secret, to prove she was worthy of their trust. Of Nikki’s trust. Gently, the lifer squeezed the slender fingers in her grasp, stroking the soft skin beneath her thumb. “Trash goes down the toilet. Everything else, we’ll bundle up and drop into the garden.” She explained. “Someone will pick it up and take care of it before the guards see.”
“Oh.” Helen’s voice came out slightly breathy again, her sense of proper conduct unable to stop the faint sigh that escaped her lips. The contrast of satin smoothness and gardening calluses, the warmth and gentle pressure of Nikki’s touch - it all felt so incredibly good. Nothing she’d ever felt could come close to this sensation, the tingling heat that surged through her veins and left her breathless from just the glide of skin on skin.
A slice of Heaven in the pits of Hell. Oddly enough, the thought wasn’t as automatically horrifying as it should have been. Maybe it was the glimmer of trust and humanity wrapped in a frayed old bedsheet, the reminder that the women under her care were women after all; maybe it was the reality of prison, where one had to find good things wherever they might be. Or maybe it was the plain, simple fact that she couldn’t think of Nikki as just an inmate anymore. With that brash mix of sarcasm and sensitivity, fierce loyalty and strong, stubborn determination, the lifer had moved from a prisoner under her care to an ally and close friend before Helen ever realized the change. Even with their arguments, their opposing sides and natural tendency to butt heads, there was no one the Scot counted on or trusted more, inside Larkhall or out. Not that I’ve ever told her that. I wonder if she has any idea how much I really care about her.
The voice in the back of her thoughts came quiet, almost solemn. Do you know how much you care?
Shaking herself slightly, the blonde grinned over at her cellmate, worry and lingering confusion swept away with the sight of their heaped treasures. “Well, let’s get to it, then.” Green eyes sparkled with mischievous challenge, brightening even further at Nikki’s answering smile.
"Past time for some proper fun, I think."