My alphabet goes to "O"
... at least until my muse comes back and gets me to "Z"!
Here are the rest of those fics I have for the gwing_soup alphabet challenge.
--
Title: The Reality of Things
Author: coolbyrne
Pairing: Nikki/Helen
Rating: G
Word Count: 535
A/N: Inspired by G.L.Dartt’s “After Larkhall” series, which I think was one of the first fics to examine what the N/H relationship would really be like in those early days after Nikki’s release. There is an honesty in it that looks beyond the standard “happily ever after” approach. I meant to make this fic longer, but ended up making it a snippet. Maybe one day I’ll revisit it.
Summary: “I” is for “imaginary” Nikki POV
--
It hasn’t been an easy year for us, has it? Completely my fault, no question. That first month, I very nearly kicked you out of bed every night, didn’t I? You must have grown tired of hearing me explain it was because I had gotten used to three years of sleeping alone, curled up on a tiny cot. But you never complained, despite a few threats about me sleeping on the couch. Now, of course, I’ve gone the opposite way and won’t let go of you in bed. I keep waiting to hear that same threat about the couch, but it’s never come.
Do you remember that first night? After a few drinks at Chix, we decided against food and went straight back to your place. But as we approached the steps, I faltered outside your door, the magnitude not only of the moment but of the last four years of my life hitting me at last. You seemed to understand, because you took my hand and led me upstairs to the loo. Running the water, you told me to have a nice wash up and you’d make tea. Five minutes later I was downstairs, washed and in your robe that ridiculously came up above my knee. I had kept waiting for the water to get turned off, but was too embarrassed to tell you as much when you asked what was wrong. With two glasses of wine in your hand, you once again led me upstairs, and this time, ran a bath. A bath! Though not an uncommon thing in Larkhall, I had never indulged; I thought there was something incredibly vulnerable about taking a bath in that environment. And yet there you were, running one as if it meant nothing. But it meant everything. You sat behind me in the huge tub and with your arms and your legs around me, I never felt so safe.
That was a year ago, and here we are, like colts, finally finding our legs underneath us and standing with more strength than we ever thought possible.
I’ve lived this life, you know. In my head. My imaginary world I could retreat to when the nights in Larkhall got unbearably lonely. I’d play out certain scenarios and moments; what I would say, what you would do. I’d try and re-create your scent, the softness of your skin under my fingers, draw your smile with bits and bobs of memory.
It’s when I look across the room at you, my book left forgotten on my lap that I realize how inadequate that imaginary world was -because what you do to my heart can’t be reduced to a simple list of items. I watch you at the dining room table, the newspaper spread out before you, your left hand reaching up in a familiar gesture to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, a small line between your brows forming in response to something that’s caught your attention, and I smile.
You must feel my eyes on you, because you glance up and meet my gaze. “What is it?” you ask with a smile of your own.
“Nothing,” I reply with a slight shake of my head. “Everything.”
-end
-----
Title: A Wooden Bench
Author: coolbyrne
Rating: G
Fandom: Bad Girls
Pairing: N/H implied
POV: Nikki
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em
Word count: Exactly 100
Summary: Sometimes it's easy to remember
A/N: I actually wrote this on a wooden bench in Dublin, Ireland. "I is for Imaginary"
--
Maybe Barbara was onto something with her diary. Sometimes I wish I'd kept one- a diary, a journal, some bits of paper that I could look back on and remember. Problem was, at the time, I didn't want to remember Larkhall. I only wanted to forget. But perhaps I should have written the good times down -us down- before they faded under the unwavering rays of time. But then I look at you, your hand shielding your eyes from the sun, a gentle smile tugging at your lips and it stokes the fires of my memory better than any words.
-----
Title: The Letter
Author: coolbyrne
Rating: G
Pairing: N/H implied
POV: Nikki
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em
Word count: 194
Summary: What was in that letter Nikki gave to Helen?
A/N: Written in the Krakow airport. “K is for Keepsake”.
--
Helen,
Be warned, I'm not very good at this. Just because I read all those books doesn't mean it's helped my vocabulary any. And if I started quoting Browning I'd only sound like a pretentious git. So here it is, the things I think about in the darkness of my nights here without you. Minus the naughty bits, of course. (Unless you'd rather read that sort of thing. Let me know and I'll see what I can arrange.)
Anyway... now that I'm here pen in hand, I have no idea what to say. I'm torn between scratching out volumes of how I feel and simply writing, "I love you". I want to give you everything, Helen, but right now, all I have to offer you is my heart. No velvet box, no band of gold. Not even a slip of decorative wrap to create an element of surprise. It's a meager keepsake at best, I know. But it's yours if you'll have it.
My love,
N.
(PS. For God's sake burn this when you're done, yeah? If the wing catches wind of it, they'll take the piss out of me until I get out.)
-----
Title: A Brief List
Author: coolbyrne
Fandom: Bad Girls
Pairing: though theoretically, it could be any POV, I specifically wrote it thinking it from a Nikki POV.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Much to my chagrin, I don’t own any of these characters. Property of Shed Productions.
A/N: “L is for Lust”. You will not find the word “lust” in this fic, at least not in the evident way you’d expect. This fic is an acrostic. Quote by Mason Cooley. Thanks to RomanMachine for the quote.
--
Licking the hollow of your collarbone.
Outside where the wind dances across your breasts and tickles shivers down your body.
Voraciously consuming the taste of you.
Entering, claiming, possessing.
Tangled limbs and bedsheets.
A memory- a thousand memories- that set my body on fire.
Laying claim.
Kisses that leave lips bruised and tender.
Smiles that play havoc with my hormones.
A natural gravitation.
Names called out in a pleasured pitch.
Daring; dreaming; doing.
The tantalizing scent of your perfume in a crowded room makes me wet.
Against the boot of the car as you arch your back towards my mouth.
Longing.
Knuckles white, fingers gripping my hair.
Sliding my hand along your thigh in a darkened cinema.
Lips against the racing pulse in your neck.
Under the blanket of the opaque sky; the stars like pinpricks in black silk.
Showers that make us late for work.
The fine sheen of sweat as our bodies press together.
Intimacy in a single word, a look, a gesture.
Soft advances that are soon replaced by something more primal.
Bite marks on tender flesh.
Ragged whispers and pleas.
In the bathroom stall of our favourite restaurant.
Energy depleted, we fall into dreams together.
Frantic fucking; no grace or care.
A knowing look that sends the blood rushing to my face.
Nails that scrape down the curve of your back.
Desire like I have never known.
Teasing until you submit.
Only you.
Tips of fingers that skim over the expanse of your bare skin, charting a map of your body.
Holding you down.
Every nerve ending tingling with anticipation and memory.
Pleasure in a single touch.
On fire.
I couldn’t stop it even if I wanted…
Not now…
That’s what you do to me.
-----
Title: One Slip
Author: coolbyrne
Fandom: Bad Girls
Pairing: H/N, Nikki POV
Word Count: 100
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Much to my chagrin, I don’t own any of these characters. Property of Shed Productions.
A/N: “M is for momentary”. Halfway through! Only another 13 fics to go and almost 4 months to do it. Piece of cake, right? This takes place right after the kiss in “Payback Time”, season one.
--
What’s that Floyd album? ‘A Momentary Lapse of Reason’? Christ, that’s it in one.
You coming into my cell after hours?
You sitting beside me on my shitty bed?
Us, kissing?
‘Lapse’ is a bloody understatement.
Even as the spot beside me grows cold in your absence, I can still feel the warmth of your mouth, the tentative touch of your tongue, the tingle you left on my lips. The feel of your soft body leaning into mine... fuckin’ hell. It was a one-time thing; a momentary lapse. Nothing more. And it will never, ever happen again.
Definitely not.
Definitely.
-----
Title: Wishlist
Author: coolbyrne
Fandom: Bad Girls
Pairing: H/N, Nikki POV
Word count: 604
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Much to my chagrin, I don’t own any of these characters. Property of Shed Productions.
A/N: For the gwing_soup alphabet challenge. “N is for normality”.
--
I’m not doing myself any favours by flying off the handle. I know that. Your eyes harden with every word that comes out of my gob and I catch more than a whiff of disappointment. For once, an atom of common sense sparks to life and I turn on my heel and walk back to my cell.
Time. The one thing we all have- though cons more than anyone- has cooled me down and I can only echo your silent rebuke. Things get so magnified in this place, don’t they? A word, a gesture, a look all conspire to mountainous proportions because we have nothing better to do than help it along. I know you know this, but I wonder if you understand it.
A life of regulations exceeded only by the military. Perhaps that’s why I’ve been able to cope with it as well as I have -my father was a Navy man, after all. A childhood of ‘yes, sir,’ and ‘thank you, miss,’ until I rebelled in a way that couldn’t be curbed by discipline or the strap. My sexuality ended up being the ultimate rebellion and rather than admit defeat, my father simply got rid of the problem by kicking me out at sixteen.
Tossing me into that kind of life, of fending for myself and having no one responsible for me but me was a bit like locking a diabetic in a sweets store. I had never known anything but discipline, and now I had nothing but freedom; freedom to speak my mind and have the first, second and final say in what happened in my life. It’s been a struggle to find a balance ever since.
Nowhere is that struggle more evident than in this shit hole. It’s like being a child again and- surprise surprise- I’m not coping well. Oh, the standard bullshit I can handle, but I’ve found a reminder of that other life, the one I had on the outside- the free one. You. Every time I see you, I recognize what I want. And every time you leave, I recognize what I don’t have.
You, off to your life outside of all this. Off to a nice warm bed with a cuppa and the feel of thick carpet under your bare feet. Or off to the pub with friends, dirnking away the emotional dirt of a day spent in here. Or maybe just off to curl up on your sofa to watch an evening of bad telly. What is it that you do, Helen, while I’m banged up here in this miserable place?
I look around it now, this small box bereft of any real joy and it’s no wonder you don’t want anything to do with me. What have I to offer you? The irony is, the one thing I have in abundance is time. I have all the time in the world for you, Helen, just not the right time. In the same way I don’t know you outside of all this, you don’t know me, either. You see me here, a stubborn git unwilling to bend; a head-strong con whose gob is always getting her into trouble. And yeah, I’m not all that different on the outside of these walls- only my situation changed, not my principles.
But I hope I’m more than that, Helen. I hope I’m more than what prison has magnified in me. I wish I could show that to you. I wish for a different place and a different time. I wish for a sliver of normality. I wish I could give all that to you and more.
-end.
-----
Title: A Lure
Author: coolbyrne
Pairing: H/N
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1804
A/N: For the gwing_soup alphabet challenge. “O is for Out”. Over the 1000 word limit by 800. I won’t do it again, I promise!
--
“Do you think it’ll come out today?”
Her eyes transfixed on the small hole, Nikki fiercely whispered, “Not if you keep nattering in my ear, Jules. You’re going to scare it away.”
“Well, that’s what we want, innit?”
Nikki lowered her head in frustration, then turned to look at the two cellmates who were comically clinging to each other in the farthest corner of the small room.
“I wonder who looks more ridiculous,” the lifer wondered aloud. “You two looking like you’re going down with the Titanic, or me lying on this godawful floor in some hair-brained scheme to catch a mouse? And could someone remind me- how did I get lured into this in the first place?”
Julie S, the shorter of the two piped up, “Because you love us?”
“Oh, right,” Nikki said, as if that explained everything. “Now, if you two don’t mind?” When no further comment seemed to be forthcoming from the twosome, Nikki shifted slightly and returned to her vigil.
--
It started a week ago when the two cons tumbled into Nikki’s cell, blurting, “We saw a mouse!”
Wade, looking up from her book, shrugged, “It’s an old building. There are probably hundreds of them. Half of them live in the kitchen, no doubt.” When she saw the Julies turn a frightening shade of white, she back-pedaled. “Start from the beginning. You saw a mouse.”
Julie J was the first to find her voice. “I was doin’ up my face, right? In front of the mirror.”
“She was,” Julie S concurred.
“When this… this thing ran straight over my foot!”
“I thought I was going to have a bleedin’ heart attack, I did!”
“You?” the taller Julie exclaimed. “You didn’t feel its tiny little feet scurrying over your skin!”
Nikki held her book up higher in order to cover her laugh. “And what do you think I can do about it?”
Seven days of lying on a cold cement floor while attempting to lure out a rodent with a dollop of peanut better was her answer. A request to Karen Betts about getting some traps or an exterminator was met with the same reaction Nikki had given them. The jail was old; so long as it didn’t become a health problem in the kitchen, there wasn’t much to be done. So now, in an effort to relieve the Julies of some worry, Nikki lay, propped up on one elbow, her other hand palm up, on the floor in front of the tiny crack at the base of the wall that the two Js deduced to be the mouse’s exit route.
A not-so-proverbial game of cat-and-mouse. Nikki chuckled softly.
The sound made the Julies jump. “What is it?”
“Shhhh!” the brunette hissed. “I think I see it.”
Sure enough, a week’s worth of patience looked like it was about to pay off. A collection of whiskers, pointy nose and beady eyes tentatively emerged from the hole in the wall. The nose twitched furiously as the smell of the peanut butter wafted towards it. Like a flash, it darted towards the proffered snack, then back again. This bit of reconnaissance was repeated three more times before the safety of the situation appeared to satisfy the little spy. The only noise in the room came from the quiet squeaking of the mouse, though Nikki was sure she would hear the two Julies doing the same if she listened hard enough.
And then, just like that, it was all over. The mouse was so close to Nikki’s hand that she could feel its little paws around her finger. With reflexes faster than the marsupial, she trapped it in her fist. She got up as quickly as her cramped body would allow and turned to the Julies.
“Get me something to put this in before the bloody thing bites me and gives me rabies.” The two cellmates were pressed so closely into the corner, they were almost in the next cell. “Oh, for God’s sake,” Nikki sighed and grabbed a nearby stocking. Quickly slipping it over her fist, she then dropped the captive into the nylon prison. She held it out to the frozen women. “Here.” When neither of them moved, Nikki shrugged. “Shall I dump it in the loo, then?”
This got an immediate response, just as the lifer expected. It didn’t matter that this little grey thing had been the source of sleepless nights for the Julies; they were too soft to be that cruel. Julie J stretched out her arm and took the wriggling stocking.
“So what will you do with it?” Nikki asked as she washed her hands in the sink.
“I don’t know…”
“… we never thought that far ahead.”
“Fucking hell,” Nikki sighed in amusement. “Just don’t look at me, all right? Or down the loo it goes.”
“Nikki!” they exclaimed in unison.
Laughing, Nikki shook her head. “My work here is done, ladies.”
--
“So how’s the big game hunter, then?”
Nikki glanced up from the papers on the table. The identity of the speaker brought a huge grin to her face. “Helen.” Then, as if playing back what the woman had said, she frowned in confusion. “Big game hunter?”
“I ran into the two Julies,” Stewart smiled. “Can I come in?”
Nikki collected her papers and shut her book. “Of course.”
“Studying for that exam, I see.”
“Yeah.”
“And yet you still find time to play mouse hunter. How do you manage it all?”
Nikki smiled and pulled out a chair for Helen. “Take the piss all you want. Seven bloody days of trying to lure the damn thing out.”
Helen’s face was of playful surprise. “Nikki Wade had the patience to wait out something for an entire week?”
“Well,” the con drawled, “I’ve discovered in the past that if you make an overly aggressive move, you’ll just scare away the prey.” A glint in her eye told Helen she wasn’t just talking about the mouse.
The Scot shifted in her seat. “Is that so?”
“Yeah,” Nikki said, leaning in. “I’ve found that patience is the key. A soft, slow approach works best. Lure them in and in the end, they’ll want to come.” The twitch of amusement at the corner of her mouth emphasized the last word, and the glint grew in its wickedness.
“You’re bad,” Helen chuckled.
They were so close that their noses briefly bumped across each other. “No, I’m good,” Nikki whispered. “After all, I caught the mouse, didn’t I?” Her fingers grazed across the top of Helen’s hand and slid up under the cuff.
“And just how did you do it, in the end?”
“A little bit of peanut butter on the end of my finger.” She watched as Helen’s eyes grew in amazement. “What can I say? I have very talented fingers.”
A small moan slipped through Helen’s parted lips and her eyes dropped down to Nikki’s mouth. “I’ve changed my mind. You’re not bad.”
“No?”
“No. You’re wicked. Very, very wicked.”
The tone of Nikki’s chuckle did little to prove otherwise. Mouths touched and retreated, neither committing.
“You do realize that it takes everything in me to not lock the door and shag you senseless.”
“You’ll get no argument from me, miss.”
Helen brought up her hand and cupped Nikki’s face. “It gets harder and harder for me to leave without you at the end of the day, you know.”
There was a genuine tinge of sadness to her words. In an attempt to inject a bit of humour, the brunette replied, “Well, imagine how hard it is for me to get a good wank on with middle England in the bunk above me.”
The ploy worked. Leaning back, Helen laughed. “Talk about a glass of cold water! I’ll never be able to look at Barbara the same.”
“Well, don’t think of Barbara,” Nikki said. “Think of this instead.” In a move that mirrored one she attempted in the potting shed all those months ago, she brought Helen’s hand up to her breast. This time, however, there was a softness to the direction and a willingness on Helen’s part.
“Nikki…” she feebly objected.
“I know, I know, we can’t do anything here. I just thought I’d give you a little something for later.”
The jangle of keys quickly drew them apart, seconds before the door opened wide.
“Well, look who’s here,” Jim Fenner leered, “to no one’s surprise. Did I interrupt anything, or were you able to get all the buttons done up in time?”
“Piss off, Fenner,” Wade bit back.
Helen stood up tall. “Actually, I was checking up on the prisoner to make sure she was preparing for her upcoming exam. Not that it’s any of your business.”
Fenner’s eyes slid over the stack of papers and books on the table. “Yeah, well, whatever gets you through the night,” he replied, his tone indicating he didn’t believe a word. With a jerk of his head in Nikki’s direction, he added, “Though how this one gets you through the night is beyond me.”
A flicker from Helen stopped Nikki from a retort of her own. Turning back to Fenner, the governor asked, “Anything else, Jim?”
The guard snorted and stalked away.
“We not only have a mouse problem in this place,” Nikki said, “we’ve got a rat problem as well.”
“You’d better keep your talented fingers away from him,” Helen smiled.
Making a face, Nikki grimaced, “Bloody hell. I’ll never get that image out of my head.”
After a quick glance over her shoulder towards the door, Helen grabbed the con’s hand and placed it on her breast. “Not even now?”
“Jesus, Helen!”
“Think about it,” Helen smirked, then had the good grace to look apologetic. “I’ve got to go.”
“I know.” She gently squeezed the soft flesh in her hand, Helen’s nipple a hard pebble against her palm.
The Scot groaned. “I’ve really got to go now.”
“Coming, going, coming, going,” Nikki whispered mischievously, then pulled her hand away.
Helen barely had time to bemoan the absence when Barbara walked in.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the older woman apologized. “Shall I come back?”
Helen was still close enough for Nikki to hear the quiet squeak of surprise. Stifling her laughter, Nikki said, “No, it’s all right, Barbara. Miss Stewart got what she came for, didn’t you, miss?” She opened her eyes wider, as if trying to prompt an answer.
The shorter woman bit the inside of her cheek and glowered at the lifer. She opened her mouth several times to speak, until finally settling on, “Yes, I got quite a handful, thank you.”
With that, she left the small cell as professionally as the situation would allow. Barbara watched her exit, then turned to a smirking Nikki. Puzzled, she asked, “Did I just miss something?”
-end.
("O" should be for "Ooops"- I came back 10 hours later to discover I didn't lj-cut the last story. Sorry!)
Here are the rest of those fics I have for the gwing_soup alphabet challenge.
--
Title: The Reality of Things
Author: coolbyrne
Pairing: Nikki/Helen
Rating: G
Word Count: 535
A/N: Inspired by G.L.Dartt’s “After Larkhall” series, which I think was one of the first fics to examine what the N/H relationship would really be like in those early days after Nikki’s release. There is an honesty in it that looks beyond the standard “happily ever after” approach. I meant to make this fic longer, but ended up making it a snippet. Maybe one day I’ll revisit it.
Summary: “I” is for “imaginary” Nikki POV
--
It hasn’t been an easy year for us, has it? Completely my fault, no question. That first month, I very nearly kicked you out of bed every night, didn’t I? You must have grown tired of hearing me explain it was because I had gotten used to three years of sleeping alone, curled up on a tiny cot. But you never complained, despite a few threats about me sleeping on the couch. Now, of course, I’ve gone the opposite way and won’t let go of you in bed. I keep waiting to hear that same threat about the couch, but it’s never come.
Do you remember that first night? After a few drinks at Chix, we decided against food and went straight back to your place. But as we approached the steps, I faltered outside your door, the magnitude not only of the moment but of the last four years of my life hitting me at last. You seemed to understand, because you took my hand and led me upstairs to the loo. Running the water, you told me to have a nice wash up and you’d make tea. Five minutes later I was downstairs, washed and in your robe that ridiculously came up above my knee. I had kept waiting for the water to get turned off, but was too embarrassed to tell you as much when you asked what was wrong. With two glasses of wine in your hand, you once again led me upstairs, and this time, ran a bath. A bath! Though not an uncommon thing in Larkhall, I had never indulged; I thought there was something incredibly vulnerable about taking a bath in that environment. And yet there you were, running one as if it meant nothing. But it meant everything. You sat behind me in the huge tub and with your arms and your legs around me, I never felt so safe.
That was a year ago, and here we are, like colts, finally finding our legs underneath us and standing with more strength than we ever thought possible.
I’ve lived this life, you know. In my head. My imaginary world I could retreat to when the nights in Larkhall got unbearably lonely. I’d play out certain scenarios and moments; what I would say, what you would do. I’d try and re-create your scent, the softness of your skin under my fingers, draw your smile with bits and bobs of memory.
It’s when I look across the room at you, my book left forgotten on my lap that I realize how inadequate that imaginary world was -because what you do to my heart can’t be reduced to a simple list of items. I watch you at the dining room table, the newspaper spread out before you, your left hand reaching up in a familiar gesture to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, a small line between your brows forming in response to something that’s caught your attention, and I smile.
You must feel my eyes on you, because you glance up and meet my gaze. “What is it?” you ask with a smile of your own.
“Nothing,” I reply with a slight shake of my head. “Everything.”
-end
-----
Title: A Wooden Bench
Author: coolbyrne
Rating: G
Fandom: Bad Girls
Pairing: N/H implied
POV: Nikki
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em
Word count: Exactly 100
Summary: Sometimes it's easy to remember
A/N: I actually wrote this on a wooden bench in Dublin, Ireland. "I is for Imaginary"
--
Maybe Barbara was onto something with her diary. Sometimes I wish I'd kept one- a diary, a journal, some bits of paper that I could look back on and remember. Problem was, at the time, I didn't want to remember Larkhall. I only wanted to forget. But perhaps I should have written the good times down -us down- before they faded under the unwavering rays of time. But then I look at you, your hand shielding your eyes from the sun, a gentle smile tugging at your lips and it stokes the fires of my memory better than any words.
-----
Title: The Letter
Author: coolbyrne
Rating: G
Pairing: N/H implied
POV: Nikki
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em
Word count: 194
Summary: What was in that letter Nikki gave to Helen?
A/N: Written in the Krakow airport. “K is for Keepsake”.
--
Helen,
Be warned, I'm not very good at this. Just because I read all those books doesn't mean it's helped my vocabulary any. And if I started quoting Browning I'd only sound like a pretentious git. So here it is, the things I think about in the darkness of my nights here without you. Minus the naughty bits, of course. (Unless you'd rather read that sort of thing. Let me know and I'll see what I can arrange.)
Anyway... now that I'm here pen in hand, I have no idea what to say. I'm torn between scratching out volumes of how I feel and simply writing, "I love you". I want to give you everything, Helen, but right now, all I have to offer you is my heart. No velvet box, no band of gold. Not even a slip of decorative wrap to create an element of surprise. It's a meager keepsake at best, I know. But it's yours if you'll have it.
My love,
N.
(PS. For God's sake burn this when you're done, yeah? If the wing catches wind of it, they'll take the piss out of me until I get out.)
-----
Title: A Brief List
Author: coolbyrne
Fandom: Bad Girls
Pairing: though theoretically, it could be any POV, I specifically wrote it thinking it from a Nikki POV.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Much to my chagrin, I don’t own any of these characters. Property of Shed Productions.
A/N: “L is for Lust”. You will not find the word “lust” in this fic, at least not in the evident way you’d expect. This fic is an acrostic. Quote by Mason Cooley. Thanks to RomanMachine for the quote.
--
Licking the hollow of your collarbone.
Outside where the wind dances across your breasts and tickles shivers down your body.
Voraciously consuming the taste of you.
Entering, claiming, possessing.
Tangled limbs and bedsheets.
A memory- a thousand memories- that set my body on fire.
Laying claim.
Kisses that leave lips bruised and tender.
Smiles that play havoc with my hormones.
A natural gravitation.
Names called out in a pleasured pitch.
Daring; dreaming; doing.
The tantalizing scent of your perfume in a crowded room makes me wet.
Against the boot of the car as you arch your back towards my mouth.
Longing.
Knuckles white, fingers gripping my hair.
Sliding my hand along your thigh in a darkened cinema.
Lips against the racing pulse in your neck.
Under the blanket of the opaque sky; the stars like pinpricks in black silk.
Showers that make us late for work.
The fine sheen of sweat as our bodies press together.
Intimacy in a single word, a look, a gesture.
Soft advances that are soon replaced by something more primal.
Bite marks on tender flesh.
Ragged whispers and pleas.
In the bathroom stall of our favourite restaurant.
Energy depleted, we fall into dreams together.
Frantic fucking; no grace or care.
A knowing look that sends the blood rushing to my face.
Nails that scrape down the curve of your back.
Desire like I have never known.
Teasing until you submit.
Only you.
Tips of fingers that skim over the expanse of your bare skin, charting a map of your body.
Holding you down.
Every nerve ending tingling with anticipation and memory.
Pleasure in a single touch.
On fire.
I couldn’t stop it even if I wanted…
Not now…
That’s what you do to me.
-----
Title: One Slip
Author: coolbyrne
Fandom: Bad Girls
Pairing: H/N, Nikki POV
Word Count: 100
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Much to my chagrin, I don’t own any of these characters. Property of Shed Productions.
A/N: “M is for momentary”. Halfway through! Only another 13 fics to go and almost 4 months to do it. Piece of cake, right? This takes place right after the kiss in “Payback Time”, season one.
--
What’s that Floyd album? ‘A Momentary Lapse of Reason’? Christ, that’s it in one.
You coming into my cell after hours?
You sitting beside me on my shitty bed?
Us, kissing?
‘Lapse’ is a bloody understatement.
Even as the spot beside me grows cold in your absence, I can still feel the warmth of your mouth, the tentative touch of your tongue, the tingle you left on my lips. The feel of your soft body leaning into mine... fuckin’ hell. It was a one-time thing; a momentary lapse. Nothing more. And it will never, ever happen again.
Definitely not.
Definitely.
-----
Title: Wishlist
Author: coolbyrne
Fandom: Bad Girls
Pairing: H/N, Nikki POV
Word count: 604
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Much to my chagrin, I don’t own any of these characters. Property of Shed Productions.
A/N: For the gwing_soup alphabet challenge. “N is for normality”.
--
I’m not doing myself any favours by flying off the handle. I know that. Your eyes harden with every word that comes out of my gob and I catch more than a whiff of disappointment. For once, an atom of common sense sparks to life and I turn on my heel and walk back to my cell.
Time. The one thing we all have- though cons more than anyone- has cooled me down and I can only echo your silent rebuke. Things get so magnified in this place, don’t they? A word, a gesture, a look all conspire to mountainous proportions because we have nothing better to do than help it along. I know you know this, but I wonder if you understand it.
A life of regulations exceeded only by the military. Perhaps that’s why I’ve been able to cope with it as well as I have -my father was a Navy man, after all. A childhood of ‘yes, sir,’ and ‘thank you, miss,’ until I rebelled in a way that couldn’t be curbed by discipline or the strap. My sexuality ended up being the ultimate rebellion and rather than admit defeat, my father simply got rid of the problem by kicking me out at sixteen.
Tossing me into that kind of life, of fending for myself and having no one responsible for me but me was a bit like locking a diabetic in a sweets store. I had never known anything but discipline, and now I had nothing but freedom; freedom to speak my mind and have the first, second and final say in what happened in my life. It’s been a struggle to find a balance ever since.
Nowhere is that struggle more evident than in this shit hole. It’s like being a child again and- surprise surprise- I’m not coping well. Oh, the standard bullshit I can handle, but I’ve found a reminder of that other life, the one I had on the outside- the free one. You. Every time I see you, I recognize what I want. And every time you leave, I recognize what I don’t have.
You, off to your life outside of all this. Off to a nice warm bed with a cuppa and the feel of thick carpet under your bare feet. Or off to the pub with friends, dirnking away the emotional dirt of a day spent in here. Or maybe just off to curl up on your sofa to watch an evening of bad telly. What is it that you do, Helen, while I’m banged up here in this miserable place?
I look around it now, this small box bereft of any real joy and it’s no wonder you don’t want anything to do with me. What have I to offer you? The irony is, the one thing I have in abundance is time. I have all the time in the world for you, Helen, just not the right time. In the same way I don’t know you outside of all this, you don’t know me, either. You see me here, a stubborn git unwilling to bend; a head-strong con whose gob is always getting her into trouble. And yeah, I’m not all that different on the outside of these walls- only my situation changed, not my principles.
But I hope I’m more than that, Helen. I hope I’m more than what prison has magnified in me. I wish I could show that to you. I wish for a different place and a different time. I wish for a sliver of normality. I wish I could give all that to you and more.
-end.
-----
Title: A Lure
Author: coolbyrne
Pairing: H/N
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1804
A/N: For the gwing_soup alphabet challenge. “O is for Out”. Over the 1000 word limit by 800. I won’t do it again, I promise!
--
“Do you think it’ll come out today?”
Her eyes transfixed on the small hole, Nikki fiercely whispered, “Not if you keep nattering in my ear, Jules. You’re going to scare it away.”
“Well, that’s what we want, innit?”
Nikki lowered her head in frustration, then turned to look at the two cellmates who were comically clinging to each other in the farthest corner of the small room.
“I wonder who looks more ridiculous,” the lifer wondered aloud. “You two looking like you’re going down with the Titanic, or me lying on this godawful floor in some hair-brained scheme to catch a mouse? And could someone remind me- how did I get lured into this in the first place?”
Julie S, the shorter of the two piped up, “Because you love us?”
“Oh, right,” Nikki said, as if that explained everything. “Now, if you two don’t mind?” When no further comment seemed to be forthcoming from the twosome, Nikki shifted slightly and returned to her vigil.
--
It started a week ago when the two cons tumbled into Nikki’s cell, blurting, “We saw a mouse!”
Wade, looking up from her book, shrugged, “It’s an old building. There are probably hundreds of them. Half of them live in the kitchen, no doubt.” When she saw the Julies turn a frightening shade of white, she back-pedaled. “Start from the beginning. You saw a mouse.”
Julie J was the first to find her voice. “I was doin’ up my face, right? In front of the mirror.”
“She was,” Julie S concurred.
“When this… this thing ran straight over my foot!”
“I thought I was going to have a bleedin’ heart attack, I did!”
“You?” the taller Julie exclaimed. “You didn’t feel its tiny little feet scurrying over your skin!”
Nikki held her book up higher in order to cover her laugh. “And what do you think I can do about it?”
Seven days of lying on a cold cement floor while attempting to lure out a rodent with a dollop of peanut better was her answer. A request to Karen Betts about getting some traps or an exterminator was met with the same reaction Nikki had given them. The jail was old; so long as it didn’t become a health problem in the kitchen, there wasn’t much to be done. So now, in an effort to relieve the Julies of some worry, Nikki lay, propped up on one elbow, her other hand palm up, on the floor in front of the tiny crack at the base of the wall that the two Js deduced to be the mouse’s exit route.
A not-so-proverbial game of cat-and-mouse. Nikki chuckled softly.
The sound made the Julies jump. “What is it?”
“Shhhh!” the brunette hissed. “I think I see it.”
Sure enough, a week’s worth of patience looked like it was about to pay off. A collection of whiskers, pointy nose and beady eyes tentatively emerged from the hole in the wall. The nose twitched furiously as the smell of the peanut butter wafted towards it. Like a flash, it darted towards the proffered snack, then back again. This bit of reconnaissance was repeated three more times before the safety of the situation appeared to satisfy the little spy. The only noise in the room came from the quiet squeaking of the mouse, though Nikki was sure she would hear the two Julies doing the same if she listened hard enough.
And then, just like that, it was all over. The mouse was so close to Nikki’s hand that she could feel its little paws around her finger. With reflexes faster than the marsupial, she trapped it in her fist. She got up as quickly as her cramped body would allow and turned to the Julies.
“Get me something to put this in before the bloody thing bites me and gives me rabies.” The two cellmates were pressed so closely into the corner, they were almost in the next cell. “Oh, for God’s sake,” Nikki sighed and grabbed a nearby stocking. Quickly slipping it over her fist, she then dropped the captive into the nylon prison. She held it out to the frozen women. “Here.” When neither of them moved, Nikki shrugged. “Shall I dump it in the loo, then?”
This got an immediate response, just as the lifer expected. It didn’t matter that this little grey thing had been the source of sleepless nights for the Julies; they were too soft to be that cruel. Julie J stretched out her arm and took the wriggling stocking.
“So what will you do with it?” Nikki asked as she washed her hands in the sink.
“I don’t know…”
“… we never thought that far ahead.”
“Fucking hell,” Nikki sighed in amusement. “Just don’t look at me, all right? Or down the loo it goes.”
“Nikki!” they exclaimed in unison.
Laughing, Nikki shook her head. “My work here is done, ladies.”
--
“So how’s the big game hunter, then?”
Nikki glanced up from the papers on the table. The identity of the speaker brought a huge grin to her face. “Helen.” Then, as if playing back what the woman had said, she frowned in confusion. “Big game hunter?”
“I ran into the two Julies,” Stewart smiled. “Can I come in?”
Nikki collected her papers and shut her book. “Of course.”
“Studying for that exam, I see.”
“Yeah.”
“And yet you still find time to play mouse hunter. How do you manage it all?”
Nikki smiled and pulled out a chair for Helen. “Take the piss all you want. Seven bloody days of trying to lure the damn thing out.”
Helen’s face was of playful surprise. “Nikki Wade had the patience to wait out something for an entire week?”
“Well,” the con drawled, “I’ve discovered in the past that if you make an overly aggressive move, you’ll just scare away the prey.” A glint in her eye told Helen she wasn’t just talking about the mouse.
The Scot shifted in her seat. “Is that so?”
“Yeah,” Nikki said, leaning in. “I’ve found that patience is the key. A soft, slow approach works best. Lure them in and in the end, they’ll want to come.” The twitch of amusement at the corner of her mouth emphasized the last word, and the glint grew in its wickedness.
“You’re bad,” Helen chuckled.
They were so close that their noses briefly bumped across each other. “No, I’m good,” Nikki whispered. “After all, I caught the mouse, didn’t I?” Her fingers grazed across the top of Helen’s hand and slid up under the cuff.
“And just how did you do it, in the end?”
“A little bit of peanut butter on the end of my finger.” She watched as Helen’s eyes grew in amazement. “What can I say? I have very talented fingers.”
A small moan slipped through Helen’s parted lips and her eyes dropped down to Nikki’s mouth. “I’ve changed my mind. You’re not bad.”
“No?”
“No. You’re wicked. Very, very wicked.”
The tone of Nikki’s chuckle did little to prove otherwise. Mouths touched and retreated, neither committing.
“You do realize that it takes everything in me to not lock the door and shag you senseless.”
“You’ll get no argument from me, miss.”
Helen brought up her hand and cupped Nikki’s face. “It gets harder and harder for me to leave without you at the end of the day, you know.”
There was a genuine tinge of sadness to her words. In an attempt to inject a bit of humour, the brunette replied, “Well, imagine how hard it is for me to get a good wank on with middle England in the bunk above me.”
The ploy worked. Leaning back, Helen laughed. “Talk about a glass of cold water! I’ll never be able to look at Barbara the same.”
“Well, don’t think of Barbara,” Nikki said. “Think of this instead.” In a move that mirrored one she attempted in the potting shed all those months ago, she brought Helen’s hand up to her breast. This time, however, there was a softness to the direction and a willingness on Helen’s part.
“Nikki…” she feebly objected.
“I know, I know, we can’t do anything here. I just thought I’d give you a little something for later.”
The jangle of keys quickly drew them apart, seconds before the door opened wide.
“Well, look who’s here,” Jim Fenner leered, “to no one’s surprise. Did I interrupt anything, or were you able to get all the buttons done up in time?”
“Piss off, Fenner,” Wade bit back.
Helen stood up tall. “Actually, I was checking up on the prisoner to make sure she was preparing for her upcoming exam. Not that it’s any of your business.”
Fenner’s eyes slid over the stack of papers and books on the table. “Yeah, well, whatever gets you through the night,” he replied, his tone indicating he didn’t believe a word. With a jerk of his head in Nikki’s direction, he added, “Though how this one gets you through the night is beyond me.”
A flicker from Helen stopped Nikki from a retort of her own. Turning back to Fenner, the governor asked, “Anything else, Jim?”
The guard snorted and stalked away.
“We not only have a mouse problem in this place,” Nikki said, “we’ve got a rat problem as well.”
“You’d better keep your talented fingers away from him,” Helen smiled.
Making a face, Nikki grimaced, “Bloody hell. I’ll never get that image out of my head.”
After a quick glance over her shoulder towards the door, Helen grabbed the con’s hand and placed it on her breast. “Not even now?”
“Jesus, Helen!”
“Think about it,” Helen smirked, then had the good grace to look apologetic. “I’ve got to go.”
“I know.” She gently squeezed the soft flesh in her hand, Helen’s nipple a hard pebble against her palm.
The Scot groaned. “I’ve really got to go now.”
“Coming, going, coming, going,” Nikki whispered mischievously, then pulled her hand away.
Helen barely had time to bemoan the absence when Barbara walked in.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the older woman apologized. “Shall I come back?”
Helen was still close enough for Nikki to hear the quiet squeak of surprise. Stifling her laughter, Nikki said, “No, it’s all right, Barbara. Miss Stewart got what she came for, didn’t you, miss?” She opened her eyes wider, as if trying to prompt an answer.
The shorter woman bit the inside of her cheek and glowered at the lifer. She opened her mouth several times to speak, until finally settling on, “Yes, I got quite a handful, thank you.”
With that, she left the small cell as professionally as the situation would allow. Barbara watched her exit, then turned to a smirking Nikki. Puzzled, she asked, “Did I just miss something?”
-end.
("O" should be for "Ooops"- I came back 10 hours later to discover I didn't lj-cut the last story. Sorry!)