A/N: I've not been actively writing in the Waterloo Road fandom for a while, but I've been thoroughly obsessed with Lorraine and Nikki in recent weeks, and I couldn't resist the temptation. I'm kind of terrified because I've never written Lorikki before, so this could be a complete disaster. It would be much appreciated if you could let me know what you think. :)

There are spoilers for S08E24 in here, but if you've saw the next time clip on the end of last episode, then I'm sure none of this is new.

Disclaimer: I don't own Waterloo Road.

Secrets

Secrets can't be kept forever, but they're fun while they last. And, for Nikki and Lorraine, they make everything that much more exciting.

A glance across the staffroom, eyes lingering as the other teachers go about their business, completely oblivious. Meetings in the office that Nikki shares with Tom, Lorraine bending low over her, passing remarks on this and that while Tom glowers from the other side. The two of them leaving together at the end of the school day, Lorraine offering her a lift with a twinkle in her eye.

These moments hold secrets that Nikki can enjoy. Secrets that no one else can know. Nikki loves to glance at Lorraine from across the room and know that no one else will read anything in that gaze but innocent professionalism.

(Lorraine feels the heat of that stare on her back and knows exactly what it means.)

When they are in the shared office, discussing the latest plans for the school, with Tom sulking in the corner, everything is business-like. A click of the mouse here, a murmur of clarification there. A finger pointing to a figure. In the background, Tom grumbles, not bothering to hide his discontentment.

(Nikki hears nothing apart from the quiet, rhythmic breathing, feels nothing but the warmth radiating from Lorraine's slender limbs, a strand of her long blonde hair tickling against the back of her neck and making her shiver as she squints closer at the screen.)

When they leave together at the end of the day, bidding goodnight to a disgruntled Christine and a bemused Michael, it is with the utmost nonchalance. They are just two work colleagues who can't seem to leave the office behind even when their time is done for the day.

(No one can know that business is the last thing on either of their minds when they slide into Lorraine's Ferrari and speed away.)

Sometimes they go to the local pub, sitting in a quiet booth together, nursing a coffee each (no wine, Lorraine states with the waggle of her eyebrows, at least not until they get back to hers). They discuss all manner of mundane topics, from the recent bad weather in Scotland, to the ever-present problems at Waterloo Road.

(They are the only ones who know that it is all a guise, two lovers pretending that it's friendship and nothing more.)

They get animated when they drink, laughing freely and fidgeting. Nikki watches as Lorraine twists a strand of her hair around her index finger, a gesture that is utterly unconscious and completely captivating. Lorraine watches as Nikki lays her hands flat against the table top, admiring the obvious strength in her forearms, no doubt acquired from her time in the army.

(Occasionally, their hands brush on the table, an accidental touch that is not accidental at all, electricity passing between their fingertips and travelling through their heated gazes as they lock across their cups.)

When they leave, filled with casual calmness, they walk in silence back to Lorraine's car. Nikki thrusts her hands in her pockets and follows behind, watching as Lorraine digs for her keys, hair falling into her face and long legs distracting in those killer heels. She digs her hands more stubbornly into her pockets to stop herself from reaching out to hold her hand.

(On the way up to the door of Lorraine's expensive penthouse, they do hold hands, fingers clasped tightly, palms kissing, and Nikki feels as if she could die from the feel of Lorraine's soft skin against hers. A promise of what is to come.)

Inside, away from prying eyes, all pretences can be dropped. The secret can be relaxed.

Sometimes, they are leisurely, sharing a drink of wine, reclining on the leather sofa and turning to more intimate subjects, like their family and experiences of the past. They can talk for hours because they feel so comfortable together, two good friends who happen to share more.

(Most of the time, passion overtakes them before they are barely through the door. Hands clutch frantically, nails tease, buttons and zips are torn open in a desperate attempt to gain access to the hot skin underneath. When they succeed, they press themselves together, twining, writhing, and it is beautiful.)

When they are tired of talking, they feel free to kiss, because they are in private and no one else knows. They are sweet and gentle, the soft press of lips against each other as they shift closer. Hands travel down sides, cupping, stroking. They part softly, staring into each other's eyes. Lorraine's are often half-lidded by this point, and Nikki always marvels incoherently at how she is so beautiful.

(When they collapse onto whatever surface is available – whether it is Lorraine's expensive satin sheets or the couch, or even on the cold wooden floor, a particular favourite memory for Nikki, their kisses are almost wild. Open-mouthed, fierce, their tongues exploring. It is in these moments that Nikki usually finds herself in charge, for although Lorraine oozes confidence and charisma in everyday life, here she is more willing to relinquish her control, and Nikki takes great pleasure in that, letting her hands and her mouth excite, getting her own great pleasure out of seeing Lorraine thrashing beneath her, sweat sheening her skin, soaring higher and higher until she reaches her peak, coming apart beneath her. And then, after a few seconds filled with nothing but the sharp panting for breath, the tables are turned, and Lorraine's confidence is back, her own mouth eager to reciprocate every minute sensation that has tingled through her body. Nikki is the one to submit then, her back arching, her breath hissing from between her teeth, her every nerve bursting with the sensations rising up in her body. Lorraine might be less experienced, but she still knows exactly what she's doing. And it's perfect.)

Night draws over the day like a blanket, and Nikki announces that it's time for her to leave. It's been a long day, they have an early start. They stand just on the right side of the doorstep to bid each other goodnight. A quick dip of the head, lips meeting briefly. A squeeze of the hand. Then Nikki backs away and makes her way down the steps. Lorraine calls after her, offering her a lift. Sometimes, Nikki accepts, and the lift home turns to a passionate encounter at her small flat. Other times, she declines, saying she'd prefer the walk. As soon as she walks out of the door, the pretence is back. Friends.

(Other times they don't stop pretending, settling down in bed, still naked and still sheened with sweat, nestling together like old lovers beneath the sheets. Occasionally, they kiss, softly, sweetly. No words are needed. They are comfortable enough with each other to not need anything more. Sleep overtakes them quickly, and they remain entwined until the shrill sound of the alarm clock, announcing the end of the respite from the real world. They get up. Nikki dresses while Lorraine pads around in nothing but a gown, making coffee, content in her own space. They exchange smiles, secret touches. Lorraine might be calculating at times, and Nikki can sometimes be too headstrong, but when they are together, it is magic. As soon as Nikki is ready, she gathers her stuff to leave. She needs to get home to change, or people will talk. Lorraine offers to give her a lift to school, but by then it will be safe again. They'll be professionals. The secret is still theirs and theirs alone. They kiss in front of the door. Nikki's arms go around her, holding her hips. It's a brief kiss, but it is enough to ignite the spark of promise for later. Because there is always a later. And then she slips out of the door, mask back in place.)

But secrets can't be kept forever.

This morning, they go through the routine. Nikki makes a mischievous remark about peeling her from the gown and keeping her between the sheets, and Lorraine rolls her eyes, smirking. She's tied her hair up to be efficient, but Nikki just finds it distracting. Her hand brushes her neck, followed by her lips. Lorraine keeps her at bay with a raised eyebrow.

"Keep that up and I'll have to reassess your efficiency," she says, and Nikki lets her fingers dip to the v in the gown in answer. They laugh together then, and Lorraine shows her to the door. They kiss sweetly. Nikki turns to leave.

And then their eyes land on Sonya, who is staring at them as though she has never seen another human being before in her life, all wide eyes and open mouthed. For a brief moment, Nikki is sure all the air has left the world. There is an iron ball of dread in her stomach. On instinct, she turns to glance at Lorraine, but she is staring right past her, straight at her sister. She has gone pale. She looks as if she's ready to faint.

Secrets can't be kept forever. They seem like fun while they last, discreet touches and smiles that no one else can read. But secrets always have consequences.

This time, they could be costly.

A/N: So apparently there's supposed to be some kind of pool scene in tonight's episode? I wrote this before I found that out, and I didn't want to change it to make it fit, so yeah. I'm desperately hoping that the lack of spoilers mean that these two break up and make up in the same episode, and the writers are just trying to keep it a secret. I don't want them to be over before they really began. :(

If you've made it this far, thank you for reading!