DISCLAIMER: This is an Otalia-Uber fiction. The characters in this story portrays the physical and some personality attributes of the characters Olivia Spencer and Natalia Rivera from Guiding Light but they belong to me.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Blue for her great beta-ing skills!
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Frances came to consciousness gradually. She picked up on the sound of a car door slamming shut; a weight around her waist; the feel of fingers threaded loosely with her own; soft, warm breaths that caressed her left cheek; and a dull throbbing in her leg that was becoming more pronounced as she pushed towards wakefulness.
The bed shifted slightly as Frances slipped from under Kristen's arm. Her ankle felt a tad better, she thought as she made her way to the bathroom to splash some water on her face. Her reflection stared back at her as she patted her face dry; dark eyes fell on the bruise and tiny scratches on her cheek. She counted to ten in her head, waiting for the crazy emotions from the night before to hit her.
Ten. She stared at herself in the mirror, feeling idiotic when nothing came at her.
Not wanting to go back to bed, Frances quietly let herself out of the flat and made her way over to the hammock.
Frances looked up and gave her father a half smile. "Hey, Dad."
"Hungry?" Frances shook her head, bemused. Russell nodded and sat down heavily on the chair near the hammock with his cup of coffee in his hand. "I'll make you something later, if you want. Then again, your girlfriend's a chef..."
Frances' brows furrowed. "I like your cooking, Dad," she said. "Actually, I don't think Kristen's ever cooked for me."
Russell looked surprised. "What!"
Frances smirked. "You never used to cook for us either. Mum used to do all the cooking," she said softly, averting her eyes.
Silence fell over them as it always did whenever Marie was mentioned. "I can't lose you too, Frances. It would kill me," Russell said suddenly.
Frances stared at her father in surprise. She knew he loved her, of course, but for him to say all this out loud... It was out of character for him and it made her realise just how much her disappearance had affected him. Her heart wrenched at the part she had played in the incident.
"What are you going to do now? We'll have to call the cops to inform them that you're no longer missing."
"And work. I have to call work today." Frances said with a sigh. She could feel the beginnings of a headache.
"Are you going to tell them who took you?" Russell asked, looking at her carefully. If he had any say in it, Liam, Benjamin and Jack would be behind bars.
Frances looked at her father in surprise. She hadn't given that any thought at all.
"Maybe you should talk to Kristen about this."
Frances nodded, swallowing in an effort to disperse the lump in her throat. They couldn't let things slide anymore. "You're right. I should talk to Kristen about this. I... Dad, I went with Liam willingly. After he explained what he was doing, I agreed to go along with it... initially."
Frances fixed her eyes on a spot near Russell's feet. "But the more time went by, the less right my decision felt. I didn't want you guys to worry. He wouldn't give my mobile back so I couldn't call you guys... and he wouldn't let me leave. He never resorted to violence though, Dad. He just kept trying to convince me..."
"He held you against your will, is what he did, lass!" Russell interrupted gruffly. "None of this is your fault, you hear me? He did not let you leave. You had to climb out of a window and..." Russell waved a hand to indicate the bruising on her face and the swelling of her ankle. "Look at you! Thank God you didn't hurt yourself badly or worse still, break a neck! Speaking of which, how is your ankle?" he asked sternly.
"Bit better today. Dad..." Frances rubbed her nose uncomfortably. "I'm sorry I made you worry," she said in a small voice.
Russell nodded. "I'm giving Kristen some time off work. Ramsey and I will handle things for a few days."
Frances didn't know what to say. Russell's actions touched her. "Thanks, Dad," she said softly. "I... You're the best."
"You're my daughter," Russell said simply before standing up, as though it explained everything; for him, it did.
Frances watched her father walk into the house with a rueful smile on her lips. Their relationship was evolving slowly and it gladdened her. Come to think of it, they had been through a lot since her return, what with Russell's accident and her... disappearance. Frances grimaced at that.
Why couldn't everything just... go away? Liam, Benjamin, Jack... She had been so angry and had felt so helpless when Liam hadn't allowed her to leave.
And Benjamin. He should have told them about his plan. Frances wondered if he was truly sincere about wanting to make things up with Kristen. He seemed to have his own selfish agenda, one that did not include the wellbeing of his own sister. She was actually angrier at him than Liam. He had blatantly lied to Kristen.
Then there was Jack. At least he was out of the picture now... or at least Frances hoped he was.
Frances shook her head and slid off the hammock, feeling mildly irritated at the discomfort in her ankle as she made her way back to the flat. She did not want Kristen to wake up and find her gone.
Kristen stirred when the mattress dipped. Green eyes fluttered open to see Frances crawling towards her. "Morning," she greeted sleepily, lifting a hand to touch a bruised cheek. Frances snuggled against her, sliding an arm around her waist. "Did you sleep okay?" she asked, stroking Frances' dark head lightly, grateful that she hadn't dreamt up Frances' return.
"Mm... I did," Frances murmured into Kristen's neck. "I was just talking to Dad. He was pretty miffed when I mentioned that you've never cooked for me before."
Kristen smirked. "I... haven't, have I?"
"So, what's for breakfast, Chef?" Frances asked lightly. She pushed the rest of her conversation with Russell to the back of her mind, wanting to enjoy some angst-free time with Kristen.
Kristen frowned, as though the question stumped her. "Um. Toast?"
Frances screwed her face up. "Toast? That's the best you can come up with? I hope you have Vegemite."
Kristen lifted a brow. "You're with a chef and Vegemite toast is all you're asking for? You're really easy to please, aren't you?"
Frances gave Kristen a speculative look. "Well then, what are you suggesting to go with your toast?"
Kristen's lips relaxed into a sexy smile. "I was thinking toast... with a side of me," she answered, her mind waking up a little bit more.
"Ooh. You sure that's the right portion size? I mean, it'll redefine 'big breakfast', that's for sure," Frances teased, giggling when Kristen flipped her onto her back and straddled her hips.
"Careful now," Kristen warned playfully. "You don't wanna piss the chef off."
"Why? It's not like my side of you is gonna taste any different... mmph!" Frances tried to swat Kristen's tickling hands off her waist to no avail. She was clasped firmly between Kristen's thighs and had no way of escape. "Stop, please!" Frances pleaded breathlessly. "No fair!"
Kristen stopped her assault and lowered her face to press a kiss onto Frances' neck. "Sorry," she mumbled, knowing how much Frances hated being tickled.
Frances wrapped her arms around Kristen and they remained in that position for a long moment.
"Dad says he's giving you some time off," Frances said softly into Kristen's hair. When Kristen tried to raise herself up, Frances tightened her hold, effectively locking Kristen in place. "We need to talk... about Benjamin. And whether I should tell the police about what he did..." She loosened her hold on Kristen after she said that and Kristen slid off her body.
"You should," Kristen said darkly. She had been thinking about that ever since her drive back from the Blue Mountains. "What he did was wrong and he has to know that."
"But he's your brother," Frances said uncertainly, wrapping her fingers around Kristen's arm and giving it a light squeeze.
"So? I don't think that means anything to him. He could have done everything differently. If he had told me what he was planning, we could have worked something out together. But he didn't. He kept it from me. Acted like he was innocent. Blamed it on Jack, even. He's... he's really no better than Jack."
Kristen thought for a moment, then added in a small voice, "I don't know how you'd still wanna be with me. I mean, I could turn out to be like them. Birds of the feather..."
"If you're like them because you associated with them, then I must be like them too, because I love you," Frances said quickly, not allowing Kristen to finish her sentence.
Kristen felt her heart skip a beat at Frances' words. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her insecurities at bay and focus on the person in front of her. "You do?" she asked, sounding almost fearful.
"Mm hm. So... do you reckon I'd turn out like them?"
Kristen blew out a shaky breath. "You could never... you're a good person."
Frances pulled Kristen closer to her. "And so are you. We don't choose our family. And sometimes I think we don't choose who we fall in love with either. They can't be all bad. Jack's... a dick, but I'm sure he didn't act this way when you guys were together."
"No. He wasn't like this at all. It's just... he must have always had it in him to be this way..." Kristen said, staring at the wall behind Frances. "I was married to this person, you know? Now I realise I never really knew him..." Frances did not know what to say. She trailed her finger down Kristen's cheek and across her lips.
"Anyway." Kristen took a deep breath, suddenly feeling like she had had enough of talking about Jack and Benjamin. "What're you up to today?"
"Nothing much. I have to make a few calls and go from there. What are you up to today?" Frances asked, resting her face on her palm.
"I think... I'm just gonna spend the entire day looking at my girlfriend," Kristen said seriously.
Frances snickered, revealing her dimples. "Isn't that a little... boring?" Kristen lifted a brow as she leaned in for a kiss. Frances pulled her close and wrapped her legs around her hips.
"You are so beautiful," Kristen murmured, pleased when Frances' smile deepened at the compliment. "I could never get bored looking at you."
Frances rolled her eyes, blushing. "Stop it. Kristen Black does not wear mush well."
Kristen chuckled, then sobered up a little. "Black, huh."
Frances stroked Kristen's cheek. "Black, Cameron, Canning... whatever. It's just a name. You're still you."
"Black is my Nan's maiden name," Kristen revealed. "She took Benjamin and I in when we lost our parents. She'd be sad to see us this way now."
"Mum and Dad met and fell in love in a small town, south of France. I was conceived there. That's how I got my name," Frances said, smiling at the indulgent look Kristen was giving her. "Since we're trading name stories and all..." she murmured, wrinkling her nose.
"You're really cute, you know?" Kristen said, feeling like a great big ball of mush when she said that. "And I'm... crazy about you."
"Yeah?" Frances asked, a tad breathlessly. At Kristen's nod, Frances grinned. "Then how about showing it by making me a kick ass brekkie?" she asked in a hopeful voice.
Kristen smirked. "Is the monster hungry?"
"I don't know, are you? Please be hungry so I get fed too," Frances said, eyes dancing. She giggled when Kristen nipped at her neck with a low growl. Then she sucked in a breath when Kristen's playful nips turned seductive, sending lazy sparks of desire through her frame. "Oh..."
Kristen smiled against Frances' neck as her hands slipped under Frances' tank top to slide up warm, inviting flesh. She heard Frances' breath hitch when her hands cupped smooth breasts and released an involuntary moan when her thumbs found and stroked Frances' nipples to erection.
"You're just... trying to avoid... cooking for me... aren't you?" Frances asked. She bit on her lower lip and let out a soft moan when Kristen grazed her teeth across her nipple through the fabric of her top.
"Um. No? I'll cook for you now, if that's what you want," Kristen said, pulling away from Frances, who immediately reached out a hand to stop her.
"Food, later. Sex, now," Frances breathed out, groaning softly when Kristen adhered to her instructions and pulled her top off. "Ugh, you are ridiculously hot," she mumbled at the sight of Kristen's bare upper torso before flipping Kristen onto her back. Kristen yelped lightly, then moaned when sharp teeth found the sensitive spot on her neck. She tangled her fingers in Frances' hair.
Frances dispensed with all formalities and slipped her fingers past Kristen's soaked underwear, making her gasp. "God, you are so wet..." Frances pushed one of Kristen's legs up and over her shoulder, trailing her lips from her knee to her inner thigh.
"For you," Kristen murmured, loving the look of lust on Frances' face. Her own breathing was becoming laboured at the feel of Frances in her.
"Do you have any idea how good it feels when you say that?" Frances asked, sliding out of Kristen only to push herself in deeper. Kristen whimpered at the pressure that was building up in her lower abdomen. "And how amazing it is to be with you?"
Kristen slid her leg off Frances' shoulder and spread her legs wider to draw Frances in closer. She lifted her head from the pillow and looked at Frances with heavy lidded eyes as they moved against each other, their breathing becoming more and more ragged as the seconds ticked by. A trickle of sweat rolled down between Kristen's breasts and she considered the possibility of fainting from all the heat they were generating.
Then she slipped her hand behind Frances' neck and pulled her back to her breast, deciding that she would risk fainting for the feel of Frances' mouth on her. Frances covered a breast with her lips, sucking it deep into her mouth whilst sliding a wet tongue across an aroused nipple. "Oh, fuck..." Kristen's eyes fell shut as her mind reeled. She hissed when Frances scraped her teeth across her nipple.
"I love the way you sound... the way you move... the way you feel..." Frances murmured as she hovered over Kristen, her fingers sliding in and out of her. "You are so beautiful..."
"Oh, fuck... Frances..." Kristen responded, her eyes half lidded and her face flushed with desire and exertion.
"I want you inside me too," Frances said, caught up in the way Kristen was responding to her.
Kristen lifted her hand blindly and slipped it through the leghole of Frances' shorts. When she entered Frances, her eyes rolled back and her breath rushed out at the wetness that met her. She raised her head to sink her teeth into the crook of Frances' neck.
"You feel... oh, Kristen..."
Kristen could feel the friction between their heated bodies, the essence of Frances coating her fingers, the sparks of desire caused by Frances' teeth grazing her nipple... All the sensations culminated in a growing ball of pleasure that spread from her centre to her limbs. She threw her head back and bit on her lower lip as her hips froze.
"I love you, Kristen."
Kristen released a wordless cry at the soft declaration and the pleasurable sensation that was coursing through her body. She shuddered when sharp teeth found purchase in her neck again, prolonging her climax.
"Oh God..." Kristen murmured when she could breathe again. "That was amazing." Then she realised she was still in Frances and her eyes darkened with desire almost immediately. "Now it's your turn to call me 'God'," she said huskily, growling when Frances gave her a breathless smile and began moving against her.
Frances stepped out of the police station after giving her statement, feeling drained. The heat wasn't helping at all; her ankle was suffocating under the layers of bandage and she was beginning to perspire even though she only had a thin cotton dress on.
"Heads up, babe," Kristen called out as she walked towards Frances, tossing her a cold bottle of water.
"Thanks," Frances replied with a smile. She uncapped the bottle of water, took two healthy swigs, then tipped the rest of it over her head, much to Kristen's amusement. "Oh, much better," she murmured under her breath, shuddering slightly when the water trickled down her back.
"You're so hot you're smokin'."
Frances looked at Kristen oddly for a second before her face broke into a smile. "You're not quite there yet with the smart arse comments. Stick with your snark, baby. It suits you better," she teased.
Kristen lifted an elegant brow. "I'll tell you what suits me better. You, out of that wet dress, writhing under me."
Frances bit back a laugh and a moan of desire at the thought. "That's more like it. Although it's too hot to think about sex right now." Then she glanced at Kristen in her fitting pair of capri pants and heels, and changed her mind. "Actually, no, it's never too hot to think about sex with you."
"Ooh. Have we done everything we're supposed to do?" Kristen asked suggestively as they made their way to Ramsey's car, which they had borrowed for the day.
"Nope," Frances quipped as she strapped herself in. At Kristen's inquiring look, Frances grinned. "I haven't done you in Ramsey's car yet."
Kristen's eyes widened. "In Ramsey's car?" she asked, her voice a little squeaky.
"Baby, I'd do you anywhere," Frances said, trailing a finger down Kristen's cheek. "But don't worry, I won't disregard proper decorum. Besides, I wouldn't wanna give poor Ramsey a heart attack."
Kristen reversed the car expertly and pulled out of the carpark. She was smiling widely now, enjoying their usual bantering. "Huh. But what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?"
Frances fanned herself at the words and the smoldering look Kristen threw her way. "Keep on giving me that look and I can't be held accountable for what I do, Kristen."
Kristen turned to her passenger when she pulled up at the lights. "And what might that be, Frances?" she asked in a low, velvety voice that sent a slight tremor through Frances' frame.
Frances thought for a moment and curved her lips up in a devious smile. Her hands disappeared under her dress, making Kristen clear her suddenly dry throat. "What are you doing?" Kristen asked a tad nervously. She should have known better than to challenge Frances.
Frances slid out of her underwear, dangled it in the air between them, then dropped it unceremoniously on the seat beside her. "Baby, light's green," Frances said lightly, biting her lower lip to keep herself from laughing out loud at the look on Kristen's face.
A honk broke Kristen out of her reverie and she let go of the clutch and stepped on the accelerator. "Christ, are you trying to kill me?" she asked, grimacing when the car bunny hopped.
Frances almost snickered but decided not to end her fun just yet. "You wanted to know what I'd do, baby. So I'm telling you... I wish it were your fingers where mine are right now..." Frances said with a soft whimper, making Kristen swerve slightly.
"Frances!" Kristen gasped, sounding scandalised. Desire shot through her at the words, however, and she was buzzing slightly from the knowledge of how quickly and easily Frances could turn her on.
Frances moaned a little louder, making Kristen swallow hard in the attempt to disperse the lump in her throat. She tried to keep her eyes on the road and almost jumped out of her skin when Frances touched her hand that was resting on the gear stick.
"I'm just playing you, baby," Frances said mirthfully, taking pity on her girlfriend. She stroked the top of Kristen's hand lightly. "You know, I've always found it really sexy when women drive manual cars."
"You have the devil in you, Frances Russell," Kristen murmured, shooting Frances a sideway glance.
"Would you like me to go down on you while you drive?" Frances asked innocently, making Kristen rev the engine in alarm. She began giggling, delighting in the way Kristen was responding to her teasing.
"Frances, for the love of God..." Kristen sounded exasperated.
"Okay, okay," Frances acquiesced, wrinkling her nose. "I'll be good." She planted a kiss on Kristen's bare shoulder before pulling away slightly.
Kristen could not help the smile that crept onto her lips. She snuck a peek at her passenger, who was now pointing at some bird or other, asking Kristen if she knew what its name was. Kristen shook her head.
"Hey, you wanna go camping over Christmas?" Frances asked suddenly.
"Um. Sure. If you wanna."
Frances beamed at Kristen. "Yeah, I wanna. Do you reckon you'd get your car by then?"
"Hopefully. Um. What are you doing Friday week?" Kristen asked as she hung a left. They were almost at Frances'.
Kristen smirked. "Anyone would think that you're a nymphomaniac!" She pulled the car up and deployed the handbrake before turning to Frances, who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
"Why, would you like to ask me out?" Frances asked, ignoring Kristen's little exclamation.
"Yes, I would, actually." If she had her way, she would not let Frances out of her sight ever again. But of course, that would be more than a little psychotic and extremely unhealthy. "I was hoping I could take you somewhere... for your birthday."
Frances smiled sweetly. "Okay."
Kristen looked on, mesmerised by the curve of Frances' lips and the dimples in her cheeks. "Okay," she echoed, feeling like everything was right in her world in that moment. Then Frances picked up her knickers and shot Kristen a sultry look before exiting the car, making Kristen groan and mutter under her breath about evil, dark haired women relentlessly plotting her death.
"Hey, did you at least try and make a move on that chick in that dress?" Bob asked Sam Faulks, the detective who took the woman's statement. Bob picked up the clipboard and scanned the document. "Frances Russell. She was a pretty one, wasn't she?"
Faulks shook his head. "Unlike you, I don't hit on anything that has two legs and wear a skirt."
That said, he wasn't blind; the woman was beautiful and she had a lovely smile. Maybe he could give her a call... to update her on the progress of the case, of course. She was really warm and friendly, unlike some good looking women who wouldn't give most people the time of the day.
"Hey, she wasn't just that. She had a nice lookin' face... amongst other things," Bob said, eliciting a few chuckles around the station. "So what was she here about?"
Faulks shrugged. "Her family reported her missing a few days ago. Turns out she was held against her will. She escaped through a window," he recounted her story. He was glad that she made it out okay. She seemed like a gutsy chick; he was impressed.
"Holy shit! Is that why she had that bandage around her ankle? So who are we taking in for questioning, partner?" Bob asked, walking over to Faulks' table.
"Liam Murphy and Benjamin Cameron," Faulks said, reading off the document as he stood up. "Let's go pick 'em up... if they haven't gone into hiding already."
And maybe after that he would ask her out.
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