Pairing: Bridget/Franky
Timeline: Set after 3x12: Blood and Fire
Filling In The Blanks (Part 1)
Dinner was prepared, now all she needed to do was set the mood. Franky dimmed the lights in the living room and put on Bridget's favourite jazz CD, then lit the candles on the dinner table and stood back to admire her handiwork. It was perfect. Now all she needed was Bridget.
She peered at the clock; Bridget was due home any minute.
She opened a bottle of red wine and sat and waited.
Twenty minutes later Bridget walked through the door. She looked tired as she set her briefcase down and shrugged out of her jacket (the tight brown leather one that did things to Franky's insides whenever she saw Bridget donning it) and hung it up. She crossed the room, smiling brightly as soon as she set eyes on Franky.
"Hey baby," she greeted as she sat on Franky's lap, wrapped her arms around Franky's neck and pulled her into a kiss.
Franky felt the room dissolve, felt everything fade but the woman before her. She returned the passion of the kiss and ran her hands up her girlfriend's back, landing in that thick mane of blonde hair.
"I needed that," Bridget whispered as she broke the kiss, their noses touching.
"Long day?"
Bridget nodded. Then noticed the dinner table for the first time. It was beautifully set – their best china, napkins shaped into swans, scented candles flickered, a bottle of Merlot decanting, the salad colourful and inviting and a delicious aroma drifted from the oven.
"Wow," she murmured.
Franky smiled broadly and tapped Bridget's hip gently. Bridget moved into the chair beside Franky.
Doyle stood and moved into the kitchen. She took the chicken parcels out of the oven, uncovered the vegetables on the hotplate and arranged them expertly on two plates.
She entered the living room. "M'lady," she joked as she placed a full plate in front of Bridget: chicken breast wrapped in brik pastry, served with mash potato, seasonal veg and tomato & tarragon sauce.
It was one of the new recipes she and Charlie were working on for the restaurant. He was alright for an old timer. Didn't mind her making suggestions to improve the menu and didn't care that she was an ex-crim. He'd been in the slammer himself so he understood.
She'd taken a part-time job as his Assistant Chef to earn some money while she finished her law degree; it was flexible hours and suited her perfectly. She didn't want to sit around the house in her spare time and didn't want Bridget to think she wasn't pulling her weight. She liked being busy, it kept her out of trouble.
Bridget's mouth watered at the feast before her. "This looks amazing."
She looked up at Franky with admiration and the brunette couldn't resist leaning down and kissing her.
"You've been working too hard lately. I wanted to pamper you," Franky declared as she retook her seat.
She'd hardly seen Bridget this week and it worried her. That's how couples grew apart – gradually, not noticing how little time they made for each other and then without realising it, they were living different lives. She didn't want that to happen to them. She'd fight tooth-and-nail to keep Bridget.
She poured them both a glass of wine and they clinked glasses.
"To the chef," Bridget toasted, smiling radiantly. She felt spoilt, felt like the luckiest woman on the planet.
As they tucked into their meal, Bridget told Franky all about her day. Franky listened attentively; she loved hearing Bridget talk. Even when she was having a crappy day she always managed to find the good in it.
Then Bridget mentioned her.
Tolly.
Franky stiffened.
"Tolly missed class again today. She gets her papers in on time but keeps skipping class. It's so frustrating - her work is good, the best in my undergraduate class."
Bridget had mentioned this particular student once too often. Most days in fact. She seemed unaware of how much Tolly had wormed her way into their lives.
Last month the girl had even rung here, at their home, late one night. Giving Gidge some sob story about why she needed an extension on an essay. Franky had laid in bed and listened to their whispered conversation – Bridget had taken the phone into another room so as not to disturb her and Franky had only been able to decipher the odd word, resented the occasional laugh form Bridget – all the while her body hummed with jealousy…
"She showed up at my office just as I was leaving, said she had a personal problem she had to deal with that morning and was sorry to have missed my class. So I stayed behind and went over my notes with her."
Franky gripped the stem of her wine glass, her knuckles turned white as she imagined Gidget and Tolly alone in Bridget's cramped office: the blinds drawn, the room shrouded in intimate darkness… leaning closely together as they reviewed the notes… their shoulders touching… their thighs brushing against each other by accident… or maybe on purpose - maybe Tolly wasn't a wallflower, maybe Tolly was a devious bitch using any method possible to get time alone with Bridget.
"That's the second time this week," Franky pointed out, trying to mask the misgiving in her voice.
"She asked for help - I couldn't turn her away. She's keen."
I'll bet she is, Franky thought. She bit her tongue. Gidget was a sucker for no-hopers. It's one of the things she loved most about Bridget - her compassion, her belief in people, in redemption.
Bridget continued relaying the day's events but Franky wasn't listening. She didn't like this feeling of suspicion. It was new and sat heavy on her. They'd been together for two years and she'd never felt insecure before – Bridget was always affectionate and lavished plenty of attention on her… but there was something that made her uneasy about Tolly. Instinct told her to be weary. After all, Franky had managed to get Bridget's attention when she was her patient… what's to say a savvy young student couldn't also cast a spell over Bridget?
Noticing Franky's remoteness, Bridget stopped talking. She studied the brunette with concern and reached out, placing her hand over Franky's. "Are you okay?"
Franky forced a smile and nodded. Then an idea came to her. "Maybe I could tag along to one of your classes, you know – see you in action."
Bridget laughed. "Bore you rigid you mean."
Franky held the blonde's gaze, there was something determined and solemn in her expression that touched Bridget.
"I'd like to, if you don't mind." Franky persisted. "Besides, I might be able to use it as an extra credit for my LLB course."
Bridget quirked an eyebrow. "You know the criminal mind better than I do. But if you want to come along, of course you can."
Franky grinned. "Great. I've got tomorrow arvo off. I'll swing by then." She took a bite of carrot, smiling as if she'd won something.
Bridget nodded at her lover, feeling there was more going on than she was aware of. "Okay."
Bridget was giving a lecture on Cognitive Behaviour Therapy to a hall bursting with students. The seats in the auditorium were all filled and students had taken to standing at the back and sitting on the steps. Franky sat in the third row, beaming proudly. That was her girlfriend up there, being smart as fuck and charming everyone. Bridget had the whole audience rapt and hanging on her every word.
Afterwards, they headed down the Uni pub with several of Bridget's colleagues and some eager students, throwing questions at Bridget and listening intently to her answers.
Franky was happy to take a backseat. She sipped her beer and leaned against a pillar, watching students swarm around Bridget who glowed – she loved the enthusiasm of her students, the debate…
Franky glanced around the pub; it was lively, the decor was traditional and it had a welcoming feel. That's when Franky noticed her. A waif of a girl, no more than twenty, standing in the doorway. She wore designer clothes, clutched an expensive handbag and had immaculate hair and make-up. She also had a dark, determined look as she honed in on Bridget. Must be her, Franky thought. She seemed the sort accustomed to getting what she wanted and right now her gaze was fixed on Bridget.
Bridget was standing at the bar talking animatedly to a colleague when Tolly swooped in and proceeded to monopolise Bridget's attention.
Franky knew Bridget would see through Tolly's act (Bridget's bullshit detector was unparalleled) but it still riled her. Jealousy stirred as she watched Tolly flirt with Bridget, flick her hair back like she was in a fucking shampoo commercial and lick her lips suggestively… then she reached out a presumptuous hand and touched Bridget's arm… Franky wanted to break every bone in that hand. If they'd been in Wentworth, she would have. It took all of Franky's restraint not to charge across the room, grab the waif by the throat, pin her to the wall and beat the shit out of her.
Tolly laughed at something and Bridget smiled, but it was a polite smile – it didn't reach her eyes. Not the way she smiled at Franky.
Bridget's colleague moved towards the barman to order another drink, leaving Bridget and Tolly unchaperoned. Tolly jumped at the opportunity. She leaned closer to Bridget and whispered something… Franky's mind ran wild. She couldn't take it anymore.
Franky moved purposefully towards Bridget. Keeping calm, keeping control. And Bridget must be good for her because she's never been this self-possessed before when what she really wanted to do was snap Tolly like a twig.
She sidled up to Bridget, interrupting their private discussion and slipped her arm around the blonde's waist. She offered Bridget a startlingly bright smile; going into full charismatic mode. Bridget raised her eyebrows as she felt Franky's fingertips dig possessively into her skin.
"Introduce me to your new friend, Gidge," Franky cooed but Bridget detected the danger in her tone. Suddenly she felt like she was territory being fought over.
She indicated the waif. "This is Tolly, one of my students."
Tolly smiled falsely and Franky could see the resentment housed in the girls eyes.
Franky's spiteful, playful side kicked-in. She might not be able to use her fists but she could still use her wit to maim. "Tolly, that's an unusual name."
"It's short for Victoria."
"Righto. Aren't you a bit young to be a groupie?"
The jovial atmosphere suddenly plummeted and Bridget's face froze in an uncomfortable expression. Several students and lecturers nearby quietened – listening-in.
Tolly feigned ignorance. "Sorry?"
Bridget looked pleadingly at Franky, who ignored her.
Franky kept her crystal clear gaze fixed firmly on the waif. "You will be. You keep eye-fucking my girlfriend and you'll be pissing through a catheter for a month."
There were audible gasps from those close by. Bridget was mortified. Franky unrepentant.
Tolly was momentarily shocked but she wasn't stupid – she knew exactly how to play it. Her face suddenly crumpled and she began to cry. "I don't know what you're talking about! Why are you're being so vile? What did I ever do to you?!"
Bridget pulled away from Franky, her expression thunderous as she glared at her girlfriend. "Well done Franky! What are you twelve?"
Franky didn't care; she'd put up with Bridget's wrath as long as Tolly knew where she stood.
Bridget put a soothing hand on Tolly's arm. "Are you okay?"
Tolly shook her head violently, eyes full of distress, then she took off. She raced out of the pub.
"Tolly – wait!" Bridget called out and ran after her, feeling responsible.
Franky grinded her teeth. For fucksake – why was Bridget trailing after that prima donna?
The surrounding lecturers and students fanned away from Franky as if she were a bad smell. Franky leaned against the bar, acting blasé, but Bridget's reaction aggravated her.
Alright, maybe I need a new approach to dealing with women who hit on Bridget, but she was used to scrapping. Used to upfront hostility.
Shit. She'd fucked-up. She wasn't sorry for upsetting Tolly, but she was in Bridget's place of work and had embarrassed her. Franky sighed. Fuck it.
She went in search of Bridget. She had to fix this.