A/N: Living in the US, it took me a while to finally be able to watch all the episodes of Bad Girls, and I finally finished it. Phyl and Bev are my absolute favorite characters, but imagine my disappointment when I noticed there just aren't any fics about them. I'm not sure if anyone else loves them as much as I do, but in case there are, I've decided to change that.

A bit of setup for the story is that this is set in series six surrounding the events of episodes two, three, and four.

Disclaimer: Bad Girls and its characters are not my creation. They are the creation of Maureen Chadwick and Ann McManus for the ITV television series. This work of fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only and is not for financial gain. I am just borrowing the characters for a bit and promise to return them unharmed and in their original condition, maybe just a bit happier.

The Greatest Thing

Phyllida Oswyn had frowned as she stared at herself in the mirror. Dark circles under her eyes showed how little sleep she'd got…all because that bitch, Frances Meyers, had made it her personal duty to make her life a living hell since Bev had her overdose.

Phyl crossed her arms over her chest and paced back and forth in worry. Indeed, she was on pins and needles, not being able to see her best friend and partner in crime, Beverley Tull. They'd known one another for twenty years, and she couldn't stand the idea of losing her. Sure, they'd remained attached at the hip in Larkhall once they'd got a sentence of five years for fraud, but could anyone blame them?

She'd given a shake of her head. She hadn't thought so. In Larkhall Prison, it proved beneficial to have alliances, even if it were just one person. Sure, she and Bev had made other friends…well, more like they'd pretended to be friends…with the other girls to feed their addictions.

Oh, they'd never intended to hurt any of them, but since they'd found themselves in Larkhall, they had to do something to pass the time. And five years without alcohol was something neither of them could really handle. No way had they wanted to see that place with eyes wide open. And, unfortunately, once a con artist, always a con artist; it was a bad habit to break.

However, the other girls hadn't been as daft as she and Bev had pegged them to be, and the great Costa Cons had quickly found themselves between a rock and a hard place since they'd burned a few bridges. Getting any of the other cons to share their alcohol had become exceedingly difficult. That's where the smack had come in.

Phyl had tried it once as a substitute. It had been…disturbing, to say the least. She'd wanted to be pleasantly inebriated, not be doped up out of her mind. Bev, however, had quickly become addicted. Phyl had found herself torn then; she loved Bev and would do anything for her. She'd hated seeing her doped up on heroin, but she'd also hated seeing her completely sober as well. The poor thing had looked like a walking zombie and could barely function whether she was sober or high.

So when Phyl had struck that deal with Al McKenzie, that had meant that she'd have an unlimited supply of heroin. Controlling the heroin meant she'd be top dog, a position she'd been eyeing up ever since she and Bev had arrived at Larkhall. Being a convicted criminal had meant being stripped of all power, and she'd desperately missed having power. She'd wanted to be top dog and that had meant keeping the smack where the screws wouldn't find it: in a small hole behind the mirror in their cell.

It had been the perfect plan. Or at least that's what she'd thought at the time. Bev's addiction had been getting worse, however, and the poor dear had been begging for a hit…well, Phyl hadn't been able to resist saying no. Oh, her head knew it had been a horrible idea. Bev had been trying rehab, though Phyl hadn't been sure what sort, since her friend had still been using smack every day. And in her heart, she hadn't been able to stand seeing Bev suffering anymore, so she'd given in. And that had been when things became real…because up until then, it had just been a game.

But that game had ended the moment she'd seen Bev being taken away on a stretcher. She'd overdosed, and if Phyl hadn't called the screws, she might have died. Her heart had felt like it'd been ripped out of her chest, seeing Bev that way, but she'd hid it well…too well, since Meyers had made sure to let her know that if anything happened to Bev, it would be on her head. Hadn't Meyers thought she already knew that? No one could possibly have known the guilt she was feeling over it all.

That's when they'd found the stash…well, part of it. The screws had found the little hole behind the mirror. That hadn't been the end of the world, though, since there'd been plenty more where that came from, and Meyers had known it, despite Phyl's insistence that there wasn't. Meyers had her right where she'd wanted, though Phyl wouldn't go down without a fight.

She'd decided she wouldn't break so easily. She was no grass; she hadn't planned to spill the beans. Besides, if she had, that would mean she'd no longer be top dog. Oh, and Meyers had been good…or at least she'd thought she was. She'd done everything in her power to make Phyl's life a living hell, but losing her fags and a night of sleep hadn't been all that bad. Of course, being on watch for twenty-four hours had been a bit humiliating. She certainly hadn't enjoyed being handcuffed to BodyBag or having Di watch her use the loo. Still, it hadn't been enough to break her just then. She'd even taken to making a few light jokes every time Meyers peeked inside her cell.

But the moment Tina had brought her breakfast…or lack thereof, that was the last straw. To think Meyers had been planning on making her live on bread and water! Preposterous! She'd thrown her cup of water in BodyBag's face. "Tell that bitch I want to talk!" she'd screamed at the top of her lungs. But it really hadn't been the food killing her; it had been the fact that she and Bev were separated.

That's when she'd known it was all over. She'd led Meyers to the secret hiding spot in the garden and gave her everything, but she'd been smart enough to make a deal first: she'd give Meyers the stash as long as she and Bev were moved back in together and moved to red-band status. Meyers had jumped on the deal and then freely admitted she quite enjoyed seeing Phyl crumble.

Naturally, Phyl had hated that she had to succumb to Meyers, and she'd vowed to make sure she'd live to regret that she'd humiliated her.

"Just admit that your days of top pooch are over, darling. Let's just focus on the fact we're back together again," Bev told her.

Phyl sighed in frustration. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I'm just not cut out to be top dog."

"I think it's time to hand the collar over to someone else."

Phyl smiled at her friend. "I have missed you so. It was torture without you."

"Indeed," Bev said with a nod. "I suppose I should be thanking you."

A brow rose. "Thanking me? For what? Nearly killing you?" She shook her head.

"You didn't hold a gun to my head. Besides, if you hadn't given it to me, I'd have got it another way."

"I don't think I could have lived with myself if you had…" Phyl's voice trailed off as she turned away, leaning against her bunk. She jumped slightly when she felt Bev's hands on her shoulders.

"You're not cracking up on me now, are you?" Bev asked gently.

"Of course not," she replied, her voice thick with emotion. "I just finally realized how close I was to actually losing you. I don't think… If you'd have left me, there's no way I could handle this place alone."

Bev pulled her into her arms. "There's no sense in getting emotional about it now, darling; I'm fine."

"But you might not have been." She pulled away and looked into Bev's eyes. "You need to promise me you'll never touch another-"

Bev held up a hand. "You have my word. One brush with death is quite enough, thank you. It's best to stick with the tried and true." She pulled out a small bottle of gin from beneath her shirt.

Phyl gasped. "How in the world did you-"

"I pinched it from the screws when I got out of the hospital wing. I've been saving it for a special occasion." She began pouring it into two cups and passed one to Phyl.

"I really don't know what I'd do without you," Phyl replied, taking a sip.

"Die sad and alone?" Bev quipped before taking a drink of her own.

After a brief moment of quiet, Phyl said, "All joking aside, your near death experience really put things into perspective for me."

"How's that, darling?"

"That I don't want to waste another day without telling you how I really feel about you."

"Don't you think I already know? You really don't need-"

But Phyl shook her head. "Yes, I do. If you'd have died…" She took a shaky breath. "You're literally the greatest thing that's happened in my life, and I'm all the better for having known you."

Bev sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. "You know I feel the same way about you." She lifted her cup and tapped it against Phyl's. "And you know I'd have gone mad long ago if you weren't here to keep me in check."

"And if you ever think of leaving me again, I'll make you pay for it," Phyl said, giving her a smile.

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Bev replied with a laugh.