DISCLAIMER: Bad Girls and its characters are the property of Shed Productions. No profit is being made.
SPOILERS: Spoils series 2 finale. Written for the even_angels_ livejournal community. Thanks to flying_peanuts for the last line.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Stiffly, I walk out through the gate. If I had more balls, I'd wave farewell to the poor bloke on duty.
Too long. God, it's taking too long. Is the bus driver winding me up, or what? My stomach is already churning, without his help. Slower than frozen piss, we lurch down the street. Is this elation or fear? Don't dwell on that now, not now. Just think of her face.
I'm amazed that I actually found her place, and Helen certainly looks bloody amazed when she comes to the door. She blocks the way, the door as a sheild, looking like all of the blood has left her face. She's blinking at my closeness, at me - all scuffled and hidden under the nurse's get-up.
Amazement turns to fear, and her body stiffens. She slams the door. I'm shocked, she's shocked. God, this is such a mess.
"Helen? Please. For chrissake, let me in!"
I can't see through the blurry door-glass. I crave to, I need her, I need this - desperately, pathetically - I need this.
"If you don't let me in I'm gonna smash the bloody window!"
She relents, but does so with that stunned-in-headlights look. Like she doesn't want to know this side of me, the side she fears. Are you a cold blooded killer, Nikki?
She should know I'm not cold-blooded at all.
Do you want to kiss me, Helen? You want to. Do you want to? Our faces are far too close and her discomfort is something you can taste. Smell. She's shaking and I know she wants me. I can feel it in the way her breath catches. She's pushing me away and still, she's drawing me toward her.
I ignore her pleas all of her objections. I can't. I won't.
"Tell me you love me."
"Oh Nicola " she barely murmurs - miserable and adoring and fearful all in one breath. Her eyes are begging me for something, anything. Make it simpler they beg. Can't we, please? She lets me kiss her, I feel her quiver with the possibilities. We have a whole night. This is our night. These are her keys, her door. The walls are just walls. The only rule is gravity.
It's easy to feel the moment when she completely lets go. She falls into me. She holds me, pulls me to the couch. She's on top of me, holding my hands over her breasts. She can't kiss me enough, can't touch me enough.
We stumble towards her bedroom and we can barely move from kissing.
I begin to undress. Helen looks lost when she gazes at my body. She has so much uncertainty that it's hard to guess what she's found to be afraid of, this time
"You you're amazing " she manages. Amazing. The word of the night.
I blush. "Come over here, would you?"
I gaze down at her, draw her to me, to the bed. Her clean covers, her piles of papers and books. Even the inanimate objects look nervous.
"Nikki " she has this way of collapsing into me, like she's been barely holding herself upright. "I don't know what I'm..."
"Trust me, ok?" I meet her eyes steadily. "Trust this." I want to kiss that worried expression off her face.
"It's alright, Helen."
This is too intense. She almost looks like she's about to laugh. Then I realise it's me. I want to laugh, or cry. I want to do something, because I'm worried that I'm imagining this. That I'm imagining the way she's looking at me.
"Hey..." her voice is soft. "Calm down, sweet'eart."
She looks displeased, but she laughs. "Ok, calm is not how I want you. That better?"
"Pain in the arse," her tongue teases me, sticking between her teeth. The smile of a thousand wet dreams - me in my cell after lights out, with nothing but its memory.
She begins kissing me slowly, a damn obvious reminder that I'm nowhere I've been before, certainly not my cell. She's pleading with each touch, and I let her push me onto my back. I sink into her mattress, and her bodyweight dips it further. She kisses my neck, my breasts. She seems overwhelmed by how much she wants to touch me. Every naked point of flesh is a signpost she never knew she missed.
Helen and I - it's just us. Just one night, with the four walls of her bedroom. It's frantic, but not awkward. Heartbreaking, but not miserable.
But the rules were there all along - her rules, her safety net, her, her her. Already, I want to go back to the moment where I was so sure about what laid ahead. And already it's the day after.
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