AN: Here is some much needed Fridget. Unfortunately, Nicole da Silva's absence has forced me to use my own imagination. So this is my rendition. I will also add, this couple and show has somehow made enough impression on me to bring me out of a 7-year writing hiatus. So, kudos to Wentworth, and thank you for the characters/story. And thank you talented actresses ;)
Also, I apologize for any lack of authenticity in language. I am American, and as such don't have any familiarity with the wonderful Aussie dialect. Anyway, enjoy.
Breaking the Rules
Franky turned, looking to find where the honk had come from. Her face then lit up as she saw the sleek convertible, and the just as sleek woman stepping out of it. Without a second thought she moved towards the older woman, almost as if her legs had a mind of their own.
She had been waiting for this moment for too long. Lately the wait had seemed even more excruciating. It was one thing when Franky was just hitting on Ms. Westfall with her dally-like flirtations. She had never really expected anything to actually come of it, despite what she would often imagine. But since that day with Bridget in the prison kitchen, the spark between the two had become real. Which meant it was no longer something to just imagine. Now the moment had come, Franky was free. She moved closer with a hurried step, not wishing to take any more time. She closed the gap between them and reached out to pull Bridget in for a kiss.
Bridget grabbed onto to Franky, just as hastily kissing her back. The kiss was short, but long overdue. The wait had been hard for her as well. Initially, she had tried not to engage so intimately with the prisoner, but somehow the woman's persistence had prevailed. At some point, she realized she really cared for this woman, more so than a therapist should. Now though, she wasn't Franky's therapist. Now it was different.
She moved, turning Franky around so that now she was the one pinned against the car. She gently grasped the back of Franky's neck and pulled her in for another kiss, this time a little less hastily. She could feel the younger woman smile against her lips. After a moment, she pulled back, now looking Franky in the eyes. They both smiled, with genuine joy and relief.
"Gonna drive me off into the sunset now, are you Gidge?" Franky smirked, with a glint of mischief.
Bridget laughed, having missed the woman's witty humor. Before she could really respond, Franky gave her a grin and another quick peck on the lips then stepped to the side, moving smoothly around the car to the passenger side. Rather than open the door, she just jumped over, plopping down onto the seat.
Bridget smiled at the younger girl, with a feeling of excitement starting to really stir. Franky Doyle was now free, and was in her car, just looking up at her with that cheeky grin of hers.
"Well come on," Franky teased, "Or you afraid you're gonna miss this place?"
Bridget just laughed, wanting more than anything to get the hell away from this place, and to just take Franky with her. She realized she had been staring at the woman and so looked away, now feeling a blush starting to touch her cheeks. She opened the car door and slid seamlessly in, then turned the key in the ignition and started the engine. She turned and looked again at Franky, the younger woman just shamelessly watching her every move.
"So Franky," Bridget continued to smile, "You're free. What do you want to do?"
"More like who," Franky gave her a devious grin, as she couldn't help it. She was now alone with this woman, with mere inches now separating them.
Bridget immediately felt her face flush and she turned away with a little laugh. "I meant," Bridget continued, "Is there anywhere you want to go? Anything you've wanted to eat, maybe? I know prison food isn't exactly the most extravagant of meals."
"Gee Gidge, that hurts my feelings," Franky laughed, the sarcasm in her voice obvious. Franky may have worked in the kitchen, but the quality of food was not something under her control.
Bridget laughed. "So what will it be?"
"You choose," Franky said surely.
The door closed behind her as she turned looking at the younger woman. She watched as Franky scanned the view of her living room, taking in the looks of her home. She couldn't help but stare. Franky had always intrigued her, both on a professional level and a personal level. She had never met anyone quite like her. She carried a front to the world that was strong and fierce, but underneath the mask was something different. Underneath the mask was something so much more captivating. She was smart, Bridget knew that much. And she was also passionate and restless.
Franky turned, looking back towards Bridget. She tucked her hands into her jacket as she said, "Love what ya'v done with the place."
"Thank you," Bridget laughed a bit, as they were both simply going through the motions of pleasantries. She moved forward into the room, "Please, make yourself comfortable."
Franky just stood where she was though. She didn't have her goofy smile, but rather a somewhat pensive stare. She watched Bridget, her eyes lingering elsewhere for just a moment before returning to look back at her face. She felt oddly immobilized. All she could think of doing was to close the space between them and finally be able to feel the touch of her. It was all she could think of doing since being in such unrestrained, close proximity. But now that they were alone in the privacy of Bridget's home, she knew even just a kiss implicated so much more. Normally, Franky would have no problem making the first move, but now she seemed to hesitate. This woman wasn't just a hookup, and she wasn't going to fuck it up by treating her like one.
Bridget watched as Franky's expression changed. She was used to the woman's humorous front. But now her face was serious, the jokes gone. She took a few more steps, until she was standing right in front of Franky, her face reflecting much of the same expression. Bridget just stood and stared, her arms lightly crossed. She could see Franky's eyes searching into hers, trying to read her thoughts. It always fascinated Bridget how this younger woman operated. She would carry such a casual demeanor, but on the inside, her mind was so busy. On the occasion Franky would open up, it would become obvious to Bridget how often she was actually wrapped up inside her own head. She was always processing and watching, even when she was acting like she wasn't.
"What are you thinking?" Bridget asked quietly.
Franky bit her lip and continued to stare. Bridget watched her for a few seconds more. She could see there was something Franky was holding back.
Franky's eyebrows furrowed, revealing just a glimpse of her uncertainty. "You know you're not just a fuck to chase, right? That's not what we're doing here."
Bridget felt a twinge of a smile creep at the corners of her lips. It was Franky's way of saying she cared, just in different words.
"Oh, no?" Bridget teased for a moment. Then she matched Franky's stare, her own eyes searching the look on Franky's face. She paused, her focus fully captured by the younger woman.
"What are we doing here?" Bridget asked, her voice soft.
Franky's eyes remained locked. "You tell me."
Bridget watched Franky for a moment, knowing she was diverting the question. It was something she did often; something that kept Bridget on her toes, especially during the days when she was her therapist. The younger woman had already made mention that this wasn't just a hookup, which was somewhat revealing of her thoughts. That was far from being completely honest though, and Bridget didn't know how Franky truly felt about her.
Bridget gave Franky a small smile, then turned away and took a few steps into the living room. She sat on the couch and looked back up on Franky, who was still closely watching her, waiting for an answer. The older woman knew she had to be honest with her if she was ever to expect it in return. Bridget knew well enough through her education as a psychologist that it was always better to be honest. The opposite—the dishonesty and lies—will inevitably lead to damage. Bridget cared too much for this woman to not be honest with her.
"I'm not the one who just got out of prison, Franky," Bridget's tone was serious now. "You've been locked up, and it hasn't been up to you the sorts of people you interact with," she stopped for a moment. "It's different for me. I have been outside those walls, and so for me, I know it's a clear choice that I want you here."
Franky's face was expressionless despite the skip she felt in her heart at what Bridget had said; that she wanted her here.
"But you do have a choice now, Franky. You don't have to be here, you can be anywhere you want." Bridget paused, before continuing with an ironic smile, "I'm sure I'm entirely more appealing when in comparison to inmates and guards."
Franky stared. This whole time she had been fretting with the idea that she would fuck something up, and Bridget would end up realizing Franky was just an ex-con and not worth her time. But here Bridget was, in a way, admitting her own fears; that Franky would get bored or perhaps find someone else.
Franky moved towards the couch, never pulling her eyes away from Bridget's. She sat down next to the older woman, her stare intent. "Is that what you think? I didn't have a buffet of women to choose from, so I don't know what I'm missing? Gidge, you've done so much for me."
Bridget grinned, placed her elbow on the armrest, and as she rested her head onto her hand she said, "You don't owe me anything, Franky."
"Yeah, I do actually," Franky replied earnestly. Then, "But that's not why I'm here either."
Bridget didn't say anything. Her face remained still, with a soft smile covering up her emotions.
Franky paused, her jawline tensed. She didn't quite know how to describe what she was feeling. She had been trying to articulate it all within her own thoughts, and had mostly just found a loss for words. She furrowed her eyebrows, frustrated at her own inscrutability.
Bridget remained calm and waited however, which was something Franky had secretly always appreciated in the woman. She just somehow knew when to be silent and wait. She was patient and perceptive, and at the moment, she knew Franky was trying to do something difficult: to actually be open and honest and vulnerable. It was understandably difficult; after all, Franky had never really had many opportunities to be open and honest in her life, at least not in a safe way.
"Gidge, I don't want to be anywhere else," Franky looked away, her voice seeming to slightly falter, "I may have been locked up, but that doesn't mean I don't know when I have something good. I've had enough of the bad to know the difference." Franky stopped and looked back at Bridget, her stare firm and sincere. "You're good for me, Gidge."
Bridget kept her eyes on Franky's. She had come to expect the woman's flirtatious and pert manner, so it was always incredibly salient when Bridget experienced the genuine and real Franky—the one she kept hidden. She knew just the mere act of being open and vulnerable, for Franky, was instinctively a dangerous thing to do. It required a lot of trust on Franky's part.
"I mean," Franky interjected the silence, reverting back to the safety of her humor, "At least I think you're good for me. You did chase after an inmate after all. Not quite sure what that says about you." Franky raised her eyebrows, her tone endearingly teasing.
Bridget immediately laughed. "As I recall," she playfully countered back, "It was you chasing me."
"Oh yeah?" Franky challenged.
Bridget laughed again, enjoying the banter.
"As you recall?" Franky mocked, leaning in closer as her tone became subtly softer.
Bridget's laugh slowly faded as Franky got closer, her face now inches away. Then Franky stopped, her eyes half closed and her lips dangerously close. She moved her hand so that it was gently caressing Bridget's cheek. Then she trailed her fingers along her jawline, her thumb lightly brushing over the woman's bottom lip.
Bridget leaned in, halting just barely before ever so lightly capturing Franky's lips in hers. The kiss was still for a short moment, and then steadily deepened as Franky grabbed the back of her neck. This kiss was different than the one outside Wentworth. This one was hungry, but slow at the same time. Neither of them seemed to rush; rather they both dwelled in each other's touch as the caress continued to render into passion.
Franky pulled back long enough to wrap her hands around Bridget's thighs. In one quick motion, she pulled Bridget underneath her so that she was straddling the older woman. Now lying on her back, Bridget laughed as she slid her hands up Franky's front and around her neck, pulling her back in.
Franky gave Bridget an irresistible smirk as she leaned in close, this time brushing her lips along Bridget's neck. She breathed in; the very smell of the woman causing another surge of desire. She began kissing the woman's neck, hearing Bridget softly moan. Franky moved her hand slowly down the length of her thigh. She could feel Bridget's slender hands move slightly underneath the hem of her shirt, her fingertips treading along the waistband of her pants, sending a chill up her spine.
Without interrupting the kisses along Bridget's neck, Franky began pulling her arms out of the sleeves of her jacket. She carelessly tossed it to the side, and then moved her hands back up the length of Bridget's thighs. Her hands continued their path up past her hip bone and then underneath her shirt. The kisses on Bridget's neck became more intense as she moved her hands along her sides, now finally feeling the touch of the other woman's skin.
Franky's mind was consumed. She had many times before envisioned this moment, always with an underlying expectancy that it was just fantasy. Every kiss seemed like it wasn't enough; she wanted more. She briefly tightened the grip of her hands on the woman's bare skin, almost as if grasping to somehow bring her closer than she already was.
Bridget leaned her head back, her thoughts slowly fading away as the younger woman's hold took over. As unprofessional as it sounds, Bridget had caught herself a few times before imagining what it would be like to feel Franky's touch. Surprisingly, the younger woman's touch was more controlled than she had thought it would be. In some ways, she had expected Franky to be the ravishing type; full of passion and vigor. While there was no doubt that Franky's motions were fueled with passion, there was also an unexpected quality of tenderness. Her hands and lips moved along firmly, but carefully. Her movements weren't sloppy or lascivious, but rather deliberate and venerating.
Bridget felt Franky move her kisses along her neck and onto her collarbone. She inhaled a sharp breath, as she tried to retain some of her coherent thoughts. She knew they needed to be careful. Just because Franky was out didn't mean there weren't still some rules. And right now, they were definitely breaking the rules. Bridget knew very well that they could both get in trouble—Franky even more so. Bridget didn't so much care about losing her job as she did about Franky's situation; Franky could go back to prison for violating her probation. Should anyone see them, Franky could be at risk of getting caught. Not that Bridget was overly paranoid of being caught in her own home; but she also knew the lengths Ferguson had gone to uncover the truths hidden in Bridget and Franky's sessions at Wentworth—however unethical. And it wasn't exactly like Ferguson was currently on good terms with the two of them. She wouldn't put it past The Freak to have someone outside her house, watching. Now that Bridget thought about it, she hadn't even locked the door when they came in.
Bridget's thoughts almost completely fleeted away as she felt Franky move down. She had pushed Bridget's shirt up, revealing her smooth, toned stomach underneath, where she was now placing even more hungry kisses. Bridget let out another soft moan as she moved her fingers through Franky's hair. She had to do something now, for she knew she was going to lose sight of rational thought soon.
"Franky," Bridget managed with a breathy voice.
Franky froze, her lips lingering on the woman's soft skin for just a moment longer before she lifted her head up. She planted her hands on either side of the older woman to balance herself as she smoothly slid back up towards Bridget's face. She hung over Bridget, her face close. Bridget could see she was biting her lip slightly, as if to hold herself back. Franky remained still though; her eyes focused on the other woman's.
Bridget continued to hold Franky's stare. She couldn't help but appreciate the younger woman's deference. Much like the time in one of their sessions when Bridget had told Franky she didn't respect her intimidating tactics—Franky immediately stopped. Here, Franky had surely been just as immersed in their fervor as Bridget was, but had stopped as soon as Bridget said her name. It was part of what made Franky so different from a typical inmate. Sure, she was defiant and stubborn; as well as adept at getting what she wanted, no matter the lengths it took. Indeed, Bridget knew there was a reason she was top dog for so long. But when it came to Bridget, Franky actually listened. Bridget never once felt unsafe with her, and it was moments like these that further impressed that.
Bridget tried to bring her focus back as she said, "The door."
Franky's eyebrows furrowed perplexingly. She gave Bridget a bemused grin as she said, "What?"
Bridget smiled, still gathering her thoughts. "I didn't lock the door."
Franky's expression remained unchanged. She lifted herself up as she looked up towards the door, now sitting vertically. She took a second longer to process what Bridget had said, then looked back down at Bridget and said in a rather amused tone, "Gidge, if this is your idea of sexy-talk…"
"No," Bridget laughed as she playfully shoved Franky's abdomen with her hands. She really did love Franky's wit. "We need to be careful, Franky. You're not even supposed to be here. What if someone sees us?" Bridget's voice became clearer as she started gathering her senses again.
"Like who?" Franky questioned.
"I don't know, Franky. I just…" Bridget sighed. She knew she was being paranoid; however, it wasn't without warrant. A psychopath is a psychopath. At the same time though, she felt a twinge of irritation that Ferguson was even on her mind at all.
Bridget looked at Franky, almost defeated. "I just don't want to get caught over something as stupid as someone seeing us through a window, or someone getting into the house. It's just risky. This is risky."
"This is just turning me on even more," Franky replied with a luring grin.
"I'm serious, Franky," Bridget tried to remain stern, her cheeks slightly blushing. This woman was relentless. She placed her hands on Franky's stomach, her fingers faintly tracing circles. She absently watched the motions of her own fingers, her mind seemingly elsewhere in thought. Then she looked back up to meet Franky's gaze, her eyes conveying the stronger meaning to her words, "You can't go back to prison."
Franky remained still, her expression no longer playful. She held Bridget's stare, understanding the underlying meaning to what she had said. It wasn't that Franky literally couldn't go back to prison; on the contrary she was quite capable of going back to prison. Rather, it was so critical of a matter that it just wasn't an option to go back. Ultimately, that would mean leaving Bridget too. She continued to stare, Bridget's look telling her it was important for her as well.
"Okay," Franky replied simply. There was something about Bridget that made Franky's impulse of recklessness dissolve away. She respected her enough to take her seriously, and she knew she was right. Franky wasn't willing to risk what she had now. Franky gave Bridget a soft smile as she leaned in, briefly kissing her lips once more before she pulled back and said, "We'll be careful."
She jumped to her feet and moved towards the windows, quickly adjusting the shades to block the outside world from seeing in. She looked back at Bridget who was still right where she had left her; her hand now on her face, slightly covering an adoring smile.
Franky then moved away from the windows, and as a way of clarifying where she was headed next said, "The door." She smiled; satisfied with her charming quip to acknowledge the odd—but adorable—way Bridget had interrupted their interaction moments earlier. Bridget laughed as Franky moved away, headed towards the door.
She reached the front door, pausing for a moment as she fumbled with the lock, making sure it was secure before turning on her heel to head back towards the living room. She stopped when she noticed Bridget was no longer on the couch where she had previously been. She furrowed her eyebrows for a moment, and then looked around the room. Her eyes quickly caught sight of the older woman, who was now down the hall, standing in the doorway of what Franky assumed to be her bedroom. Bridget had a somewhat mischievous smile on her face, as she leaned against the doorframe, waiting.
Franky didn't hesitate as she moved towards the woman, her smile reflecting back much of the same mischievousness. She moved quickly, pinning Bridget where she was, causing the woman to laugh. She moved her hands underneath Bridget's shirt, once again feeling the touch of her. She could feel Bridget wrap her arms around Franky's neck as she nuzzled into Bridget's collarbone, letting her lips delicately glide across as she took her scent in once again.
"Any more doors?" Franky's tone was low and drawing, and slightly muffled as she spoke into the woman's delectable skin.
"No," Bridget let out a laugh that was partly moaned.
"Good," Franky growled; that being the only permission she needed. She pulled Bridget's shirt up over her head and tossed it to the floor. She returned her lips to Bridget's neck, lavishing it with devouring kisses. She trailed down her collarbone, and then down her abdomen, stopping briefly to undo the button on her pants. With that, she simply moved her kisses further down, eliciting a soft moan from Bridget. Franky smirked, knowing the effect she was having.
She stood back up, now looking Bridget in the eyes. She paused, taking in the moment. Then she captured Bridget's lips in hers, her hands moving along her front, now more ravenous than before. She kept the woman pinned where she was a few moments longer, before moving them both further into the bedroom. Bridget smiled into Franky's kisses, now fully immersed without distraction. As they moved, Bridget smoothly shut the bedroom door, seeming to shut off the rest of the world entirely.