DISCLAIMER: Bad Girls and its characters are the property of Shed Productions. No profit is being made.
SPOILERS: A chronology of missing and re-written scenes from early series one until series two, episode 8. Written for cabenson for femslash06.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Chronology of a Hopeless Scot
By giantessmess
Confusion
Maybe this happened because you always seem to have your head up your own arse.
Always the best of intentions, but really, some of your ideas were bloody stupid. Like striding into work with your mascara smudged, you never seemed to notice the downside until it made you slip.
But still, the question remained: what do you bring a woman in prison?
"Have you seen my copy of Sophie's World, Sean?"
"Hmmm?" he trotted in, clumps of soil caked to his face. "Sorry," he wiped it with the back of his hand.
"I don't care if you're covered in manure, alright?" You ran a hand through your hair."Just help me find the bloody book."
"I'll make a mess, Helen."
"Well, make one."
"Sophie's Choice is a movie, isn't it?"
"Sophie's World."
It was just a book, not a file hidden in a cake. But why did it make you feel so bloody nervous? Maybe you were just pathologically afraid of failure. Nikki's was a special case, and she required the extra effort. You were getting a problem prisoner to trust you. It was because you needed her on your side.
It wasn't that you enjoyed flouting your own rules.
Why was being friendly with a prisoner such a problem? Maybe it was just Sean, putting so much pressure on you. Nagging, whining, and the guilt? Honestly. You couldn't be home twenty-four-bloody-seven.
So yes, you began relying on Nikki more than you probably should have. And maybe you weren't meant to get this close. Nikki, well - she seemed to enjoy the casual way you'd permitted - no miss this or ma'am that. All your idea, yes - your own bloody fault. And, (just so you could feel like an idiot about the way you were handling her), her behaviour around you was making you increasingly uncomfortable. Just a smile from her could keep you going until the end of your shift. Seeing her, sunning herself in the yard. Stretched out on the grass, her head tilted back. The light always hit her face so beautifully.
Sean thought you were obsessed with the woman. But he had no idea about the problems you faced at Larkhall on a day-to-day basis. Nikki Wade was in your corner. Was that so bad?
Still, it bothered you that you couldn't keep your eyes off her. Maybe there was a better way to approach her? Or maybe you should just stop asking so many stupid questions.
"Have you never been interested in men?"
She half-smiled at you, like you'd given her an open invitation.
You had a problem getting things. That must be it. You had too many ideas, and no sense of when you should keep your mouth shut.
"You should come in, talk about your gardening, Sean."
"Yeah?"
You shrugged. "I can get it organised this week."
All you could think about was how Nikki would love this chance. She liked gardening, didn't she?
"You're serious, aren't you?" Sean blinked, looking like he was trying to appear braver than he was. "What, in that prison? How would that work?"
Another bloody brainwave of yours.
Nikki didn't realise who Sean was until he wrapped his arm around you and announced your wedding plans. What an arse. Nikki was snarling. Sean was smiling, like he'd found a way to get you to say 'yes.' You felt like a piece of meat.
You found Nikki in the potting shed, after. Closing the door behind yourself, you took in the sight of her sweating, tilting her head over the pot-plants. You could almost taste how pissed off she was.
"Here comes the blushing bride to be…"
"Sean's just asked me to marry him…not that it's any of your business, actually."
"Why are you telling me?"
"I don't know."
You smiled and shook your head. You were blinking a lot - why did she always make you so nervous? Nikki ignored you for the plants she was tending.
Was it so unreasonable to ask what was going on? Was it? Nikki scoffed, as if you were supposed to know already.
"You really wanna know what it's about?" she spat. "It's about this."
She grabbed your hand. Lurching you forward, she placed it on her breast. A wave of arousal shot through your body. You could feel it down to your legs.
"Jesus Christ!"
Nikki held fast to you when you tried to pull away. Your hand flailed over that soft part of her, and you felt your face go red.
Jerking your hand away, you teetered backwards. Nikki's face fell, after she realised what a stupid bloody thing she'd done. You slammed out of the shed without giving her the satisfaction of knowing how much the act had rattled you.
This wasn't right.
When you shut yourself into your office your body was still shaking. You weren't attracted to this woman. No, you really weren't. It was a reaction, plain and simple. Nikki had been out of line.
You tried not to flush at the thought of Nikki's breast under your hand. You closed your eyes, and found yourself picturing what it might feel like, to touch Nikki more intimately. To take away that white singlet, and play your hands over her breasts, down her body. And regardless of your wants, your body betrayed you. A sharp, hot flush of arousal ran through you.
"Jesus." You put a hand to your face. "Shit."
Whatever this was – and it wasn't anything- it was going to end now. You'd make sure of that.
You didn't understand any of this. You were a prison officer, for godssake! You were straight. Engaged, even. This was just an isolated incident, made more intense by the prison environment.
But when you brought Nikki in, you felt your conviction wavering. You decided not to meet her eye. You were a prison officer. You were a prison officer.
"Even if I were attracted to you – which I'm not …"
Obviously, there were a lot of things you'd never get a handle on. But you weren't an idiot, you knew yourself, knew your limitations, your needs. You certainly weren't attracted to Nikki Wade.
The next few months were all about Sean, and how much you loved him. Well, no, let's be honest here - your time was spent avoiding the topic of Sean, marriage and any emotions beyond your daily work. You tried desperately not to think of Nikki. Her lips, and how soft they would be. Soft like her breast had been.
You woke up from too many dreams of her, stripping naked in the middle of your office.
"This is me, ok?" she'd say, petulantly.
You'd try to control your breath, but you almost always gave in. Crumbled, right into Nikki's arms. Kissing her all over.
You mightn't have control over your subconscious, but you'd be damned if you let this – whatever it was- ruin your chances of a brilliant career. And Sean. You'd worked so hard to be where you were.
Anyway, you and Nikki had managed some semblance of a friendship in Larkhall. But if you'd been more honest with yourself, you'd admit you just couldn't keep away.
Which is why you went to her, when everything was going to shit. It was why you went to her cell, let her put an arm around you, let her stroke your face. You wished you could disappear, fall, wished you were allowed to fail. You were going to fail. It'd be so much easier.
"You mustn't think like that," she said, too softly. Too kindly. Too much.
You were crying. "No?"
And then all you could think about was the sensation of her mouth on yours. Unable to contain a small moan, you let yourself kiss her back, and then you pulled away, shocked.
"I'm sorry," Nikki squinted, smacking the bed. "I shouldn't have done that." She put a hand over her mouth.
Your pulse was racing. "No," you glared. "You shouldn't."
Standing outside the door to Nikki's cell, you were afraid to touch your own lips.
Control
You didn't have any power over your own life. But that was going to change right now.
How did you become this person? Someone who'd left their fiancé for a woman. Someone who sat up at night, dreaming of ways to touch her.
When you managed to work through the old worries, you kept finding new things to fear. You were in a lesbian relationship. You were in a relationship with a female inmate. You were in love with someone you might never get close to.
You felt out of sorts, walking back into Larkhall again. It hadn't seemed so extreme when you filled out the visiting order. But then you walked through the gates - just one of the crowd being herded in. You shouldn't feel so nervous. You'd already made a decision – you were going to get Nikki to appeal her case. It was something you could get your hands dirty with, something you could touch.
But when you walked into that room and saw her sitting there, her eyes devouring you, you stopped being anything but a pair of feet walking towards her. A heart beating much too fast.
"Hiya Nikki," you breathed.
"Hi Helen."
God, you wanted to kiss her, even in front of Hollamby griping in the background, and the chatter of prisoners. Kiss her, like anyone else would - like normal people did. Instead, you got her to agree to an appeal. Bureaucracy as foreplay. You think you could bully her into anything, by making it about how much she cared about you.
When you left, you were stuck with an imprint of Nikki in her orange vest, shuffling off to her cell alone. Reading her sad little books, drifting to sleep under prison-issue sheets.
You went to bed that night, and you masturbated, thinking of all the ways you should have touched her right there, things you might never get to do. You brushed your nipple, thinking of her breasts. Her mouth on yours, her mouth all over you.
As usual, you couldn't fall asleep afterwards. You just reached for a bottle of Stoli, and a pile of paperwork. Tangible things always stopped you from going off the deep end.
You were going to handle this.
When you visited her again, she looked so beautiful with her eyes fixed on The Portrait of a Lady, you had to bite your lip to manage your excitement.
She just gaped at you. You loved bringing her good news, finally.
"I'm back on your case. Litrally."
She laughed - you both laughed, because right then with her leaning so close, it seemed too simple. Life's so bloody deceptive, isn't it?
Nikki shook her head, her open mouth unable to form any of the thoughts rushing through her.
"You're just…you're here, Helen? For real?" she hesitated, but then she touched your face.
"You think I'm a figment of your imagination?" you grinned.
"Well, I've bloody imagined it enough, haven't I?"
She brushed a finger over your lips.
"Nikki…" you pleaded.
"Hey," Nikki chided. "I'm the welcome wagon, aren't I? Gotta give you your present and everything."
"How terrible for you."
"Oh, it's very trying," she snickered, brushing her lips over yours lightly. It took you to deepen the kiss. Somehow you thought she orchestrated it that way. She held your face, and slipped her tongue in, chucking as you let out a surprised moan of pleasure.
You pulled away. "Cheeky sod."
Nikki smiled, eyes shining.
"Welcome back."
You took hold of her hands.
"I feel welcome."
When she kissed you the second time, you pulled her onto the table, sending her book cluttering to the ground.
"Shit."
"Come here, darling" Nikki grinned.
You kissed her briefly, before giving her a look of warning. Mock warning, but still with that edge you were both familiar with.
"We need to stop." Nikki just rolled her eyes at you. "I'm serious."
You knew that if you stopped right there, you'd have hard bloody luck sleeping through that night. But if you kept at it? If you were thrown out on your arse by an officer walking in on you? Jesus - you'd never sleep, and you'd never have her.
"I'll be seein' ya, Nikki."
"Yeah, Helen." Nikki sighed.
"Be good," you said, smiling as she widened her eyes in response.
"Hey, I'm living like a nun, here. I'm as good as bloody gold."
You raised an eyebrow.
Even when you were laughing at her cheek, you still couldn't imagine how you ended up on the other side of it. How this had become your life.
You're not the person you thought you'd turn out to be. Helen Stewart, the eternally damned. There were so many ways you broke your own rules. You stole files, you smuggled in books. You kissed her, stopping short of God knows what else. Nikki had too much power over you, and she acted like that was normal, acted like this - this - was normal.
You felt like you'd forever be making up and breaking up and falling to pieces over this, over her. Even with the best case scenario, you'd be tripping over yourself. Lost, confused and bloody hopeless till the day you died.
The scariest thing, out of all the scary things? You almost didn't mind.
The End