And If My Love Was In Vain
"I won't let you fuck up all we've achieved just because that tight-ass cunt Vera threatens you!" Franky yelled as she slammed her hands on the kitchen counter. Her eyes were shooting daggers at Bridget. How could she be saying this? They had worked so hard to be where they were right now.
"Franky, don't talk about her like that. She's just doing her job," Bridget protested, reaching out to put her hand on top of Franky's. Franky pulled her hand away.
"No, she's not! I'm not one of her inmates anymore. I'm not her responsibility anymore! There's no sane fucking reason for her to be butting in on our lives!" She started pacing through the living room. She was so incredibly angry with Vera. She was sure that, if she'd see the bitch right now, she'd kill her.
Bridget sighed, and acknowledged: "Well, formally, no. But Franky, she is right. If the parole board finds out, you'll have breached your parole, and you'll have to go back inside." Franky shook her head, still pacing back and forth.
"I don't fucking care. Honestly, I don't!" She turned around to face Bridget, and accused her: "And you shouldn't give a damn either!" Bridget attempted to say something, but held her tongue. Franky got angrier and angrier. Why wasn't she saying anything? For fuck's sake!
"Why do you even listen to her? Do you prefer her over me?" she asked. Bridget shook her head. "Of course not."
Franky stamped over to Bridget and got up into her personal space. She knew Bridget hated it when she yelled in her face, but she didn't give a damn anymore. She just wanted to know - to understand. "Why then?"
"Because I fucking love you, Franky! But I guess that that isn't enough!" Bridget couldn't hold back her tears anymore. Her shoulders heaved with sobs as she pushed past Franky and ran outside. She slammed the door shut. Franky could hear her starting the engine of her car and driving off.
"Fuck," Franky sighed, as she let herself slide down to the floor against the kitchen counter. She pulled her legs up against her chest and rested her head on her knees. She'd messed up, big time. God, she'd done it again. Pushed away the person who cared the most about her. She always did this. She was doomed to end up alone. Or dead. Or both. Her mother was right. She was worthless. She should just go ahead and…
No.
She wasn't going to let her good-for-nothing egg-donor ruin the one good thing in her life. No way. She got up, grabbed her keys, and got into her car. She was going to win Bridget back. She just needed to get some supplies.
Bridget found herself walking along the boardwalk of St Kilda Beach. There weren't many people out at this time of day. Her violent sobs had long turned into a stray tear running down her face. Raising her hand to her cheek, she used the back of her hand to smear it dry. She watched as a silver gull flew over her head and landed on a post nearby.
She'd messed up. She'd pushed Franky away, even though she knew that that was the worst thing anyone could do to the beautiful brunette. God, she loved Franky so much, and it was very well possible that she'd just destroyed the fantastic life they'd built together.
Sighing, she decided to go dip her feet in the water. She pulled her heels off and walked towards the breakers. As the cold April water touched her feet, she felt some of the tension leave her body. Slowly, she kicked her feet through the water. Wasn't she pathetic, running off like a little child moment they got in a fight? She shook her head. No, that wasn't it. She hadn't fled for her own sake. She hated it when people yelled at her. Especially when she felt like she hadn't done anything wrong. Franky yelling at her had nearly made her lose her temper with the younger woman. That's why she'd left. She knew that. But would Franky understand? She was just trying to protect Franky from the parole board. She knew what kind of utter arseholes were on that board, and they'd immediately send her back to Wentworth, without thinking twice. She wasn't going to let that happen; she wouldn't let Franky throw away the future she'd worked so hard for, just because of her. She wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she did.
But...she shouldn't have stormed off like she had. God, what had she done? She'd left Franky at home, all by herself. Fuck! What was Franky going to do? She knew Franky hated it at her official place. So she wouldn't go there. Franky was still transitioning back into her free life. What if she was roaming the streets right now? She had to get home; she had to go look for the younger woman.
She sprinted back to her car as fast as she could. Only when she stepped onto the asphalt she realized that she had dropped her shoes somewhere. She considered leaving them, but there was no way she'd be able to drive with bare feet. Cursing, she ran back to the sand, grabbed her heels, and ran back to her car. Time to get home. Time to get the woman of her dreams back, and safe.
Pulling into the driveway, Bridget was relieved to see Franky's car parked in front of the house. Thank God. At least that meant Franky, if she'd run, wouldn't be far away. She killed the engine and got out of her car. When she'd travelled the few metres to the front door, she took a deep breath and put her key in the lock. Before she could turn it however, someone pulled open the door, and Bridget was pushed back by...small, feminine hands? She blinked, and looked up into bright, slightly panicked green eyes.
"Franky, what in the world?" she exclaimed.
"Gidge, close your eyes," the brunette commanded her. What? Why? What was she hiding from her?
"Why? Are you okay, darling?" Franky nodded frantically, and mumbled: "Yeah, yeah, yeah, just...close your eyes, alright? I promise you'll like it." Alright then. She'd do it. She trusted Franky.
Bridget nodded, and lowered her eyelids.
"Thanks." She felt Franky's hand on the small of her back, and heard the front door being opened further. As Franky guided her inside, she smelled something, but she couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. It reminded her of Christmas. She had a horrible sense of direction, but she figured that Franky had to be leading her to the bedroom. No...she didn't want that right now, they had to talk first.
She stopped, and tried to grab Franky's arm, her eyes still closed.
"Franky, I'm not in the mood for sex." She heard the younger woman chuckle, as she answered: "Gidge, as much as I like the way you think, that's not what I'm planning right now. Come." Franky pulled her through a doorway, and cleared her throat.
"Alright, open your eyes." Bridget blinked a couple of times. She was in her bedroom. And...that was all?
"Franky, what the hell is going on?" She didn't get it. What was so special about this?
"Just trust me on this, Gidge," the brunette said, grabbing a towel from the dresser and handing it to Bridget. "Please, just go and take a shower, put on something nice, and then wait in the bedroom. I promise it'll be worth the wait." Bridget smiled, and nodded.
"Alright love, but only because you're asking so nicely." Her face turned serious. "But we do need to talk later." Franky nodded absentmindedly, and sprinted out of the room. Bridget could hear a ruckus coming from the hallway. What the hell? She exited the room just in time to see Franky dragging her room divider until it blocked her view of the living room.
"Trust me! And go take your shower!" the younger woman yelled from the other side.
"Yeah, yeah!" Bridget chuckled to herself, and walked into the bathroom. She had no idea what Franky was planning, but it had to be extensive. The woman never did anything only half - go big or go home. After she'd dropped the towel in the sink, she stripped and pulled her hair out of her signature updo. She preferred to have her hair in a French twist or a ponytail when she was working - it was her way of dealing with the harshness she encountered in the prisons she'd worked at. The moment she pulled off her heels and let her hair down, was the moment she let all of the heartbreaking stories and terrifying threats behind her. She knew, rationally, that it was a coping strategy, but it worked. Sighing, she stepped under the lukewarm stream, and let the cleansing water wash away the grime and stress of the day.
When Bridget was done, she wrapped the towel round her wet hair and padded barefoot to the bedroom. She had absolutely no idea what to wear. What was Franky planning?
"Franky?" she called out. She could hear Franky's runners stomping down the hallway. The brunette stuck her head round the corner: "Yeah? - Well hello!" Franky seemed to appreciate the fact that Bridget had forgone a towel to cover her body with. Bridget chuckled and shook her head.
"What should I wear?" Franky shrugged.
"I dunno. Something nice." That was...a broad term.
"Watching-TV-on-the-couch-nice, or formal-ball-gown-nice?"
"Somewhere in between. I..." Franky was interrupted by the blaring of the smoke detector in the kitchen. "Ah, fuck. Choose something you're comfortable in, Gidge. I gotta go prevent a disaster." And with that, Franky sprinted out of the bedroom. Within seconds, Bridget heard the loud beeping stop. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in, and swung open the doors of her closet. Fine then. She grabbed a burgundy knee-length pencil dress from its hanger, and inspected it. It was modest in the front, but had a dangerously low dropped back. She only ever wore it with a jacket, because it made her feel...scandalous, but...maybe she'd just wear it as it was. That was sure to get Franky's attention. She smiled, and walked over to her dresser. Now, what colour to choose? After some consideration, she settled on a pastel pink satin and lace set she'd bought ages ago.
When she was dressed and had re-applied her makeup, she sat down on her bed, and called out: "Franky? I'm done." Once again she heard the younger woman trample down the hallway. Franky entered the room. She seemed nervous, Bridget thought. She was biting her lip, and her eyes looked slightly panicked. God, please don't let anything be wrong with her.
"Darling?" she asked, trying to get her attention again. Franky blinked, and focused her sight on Bridget.
"Yeah. Okay. I think I'm done." Suddenly she noticed Bridget's attire. "Fuck, Gidge, you're gorgeous. Would you please close your eyes again? That'll be the last time, I promise." Bridget smiled, and nodded. She couldn't resist the younger woman when she was looking at her with those huge puppy-dog-eyes. Letting out a breath, she slowly closed her eyes.
She felt Franky's hand grab her own, and pull her upright. Stunned by the sudden force, her balance waivered momentarily, but Franky held her upright.
"Thanks love," she said into the darkness. The raspy answer came from right next to her ear, so close she could feel the warmth of Franky's breath on her skin: "O' course."
Bridget noticed that Franky was leading her into the great room. They could walk straight through, so that meant that Franky had to have moved the room divider back to its original spot in the corner. They stopped, and Bridget had to fight the urge to peek. She was extremely curious to find out what was going on, but Franky seemed so genuinely nervous and excited, that she didn't want to ruin her fun. The younger woman didn't get excited about a lot of things. Sure, she pretended to be into stuff, but Bridget knew better than that.
"Okay. Open your eyes." As she did as she was told, Bridget's eyes had to adjust to the light. Taking in her surroundings, she let out a soft gasp.
"Oh, Franky..." The lights were dimmed, and Franky had spread wonderfully smelling candles all around the room. The table was set for two, and she spotted a steaming hot casserole waiting for them on the countertop. As she looked around, she noticed that some soft smooth jazz was playing in the background. Bridget turned to Franky. The brunette looked like a nervous wreck, leaning against the kitchen island, but the moment she saw that Bridget was observing her, she cleared her throat and asked nonchalantly: "Well? Whaddaya think?"
Bridget beamed at her, and answered: "I love it, darling." She stepped towards Franky and pulled her towards her for a tender kiss. When they broke apart, the taller woman took Bridget's hand and led her to the table. She helped her to her seat, and when Bridget was settled, she went to get the dish from the counter and placed it in the middle of the table.
"Bacalhau com natas," she proudly pronounced.
"Say what?" Franky grinned and explained: "Cod with cream, but it sounds a lot sexier in Portuguese." She winked, and helped them both to a generous serving.
Bridget lifted her glass and clinked it against Franky's. "Cheers babe."
"Cheers," Franky responded, smiling. Suddenly, her face turned serious. "Gidge, I'm so sorry for how I acted. I was way outta line. I just...you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I..." She cleared her throat. "...I just love ya so much, you know."
Bridget was surprised. She hadn't expected Franky to apologise - saying sorry wasn't something she did much. Had Franky really just admitted that she loved her? God, she'd been waiting so long to hear that. She hadn't wanted to force the younger woman into saying something she wasn't ready to say yet, but hearing it out of her mouth made her feel like her heart was going to swell right out of her chest.
"Oh Franky," she began, "we were both emotional and hurt and shocked. I can't blame you for reacting the way you did. I'm the one who should be apologising, really. I'm so sorry for storming off like that. It was very immature of me. I got so frustrated that I nearly lost my temper, and I didn't want to do that to you. I just care so much about you. Being with you is the one thing I want most in this world. I don't think I would survive you having to go back." Bridget choked back tears. She really couldn't stand even the thought of having to go back to living her life without Franky on the outside.
Franky shook her head. "Gidge, if we're going to stay together, I need to be exactly the person that you're allowed to lose your temper to. You need to be able to let your guard down with me." Bridget nodded.
"I know. It's not my biggest talent."
"Ya know, for a shrink, you're pretty shit at expressing your feelings," Franky remarked with a wink. Bridget chuckled in agreement. Her focus shifted to the beautifully-smelling plate of food in front of her. She took a spoonful and brought it to her mouth. As she closed her lips around it, the fish melted on her tongue.
"God, Franky, this is divine. How do you even manage to do this?"
"Well, it's some work, but seeing your near-orgasmic face makes it worth it," Franky joked, a huge smirk spreading across her face. Bridget shook her head, giggling slightly. She could've expected an answer like that.
"Where did you go, Gidge?" Franky asked as she piled way too much food on her fork. Bridget looked at her, confused. Suddenly, realisation dawned on her.
"I was at St Kilda," she answered.
"Hmm..." Franky remarked as she swallowed the food in her mouth. "What were you doing there?"
What had she been doing there? Why had she gone to St Kilda, of all places? Melbourne had nicer beaches, in her own opinion. So why had she chosen one of the busiest beaches?
Bridget shrugged, and replied: "I'm not really sure. I just drove, and ended up there. My mother used to take me there, when I was little."
"Why did you come back here?"
"You," she responded truthfully.
"Me?" Franky asked. She stopped eating. Bridget nodded.
"I was worried you'd..." The younger woman interrupted her: "That I'd do something stupid. That I'd get in trouble. That's not me anymore, Gidge. I've changed. With your help." The blonde smiled.
"I know that now." Franky looked absolutely delighted at that statement. Her eyes lit up like gemstones catching sunlight. Bridget continued: "I meant what I said earlier, Franky. I really am proud of you. You've accomplished so much."
"Thank you," the brunette said.
The two women finished their dinner in peace, talking about anything and everything. Franky joked, and Bridget laughed, wholeheartedly. When they were done, Bridget helped Franky clear the table.
"Dinner was lovely, darling," she said as she was loading their plates into the dishwasher.
"Good." Franky was loading the rest of the casserole into a plastic container. "This needs to cool before we freeze it." Bridget nodded, and pulled the younger woman towards her for a kiss.
"So..." she began.
"So..." Franky countered, smirking.
"What do you want to do now?" Franky thought for a minute. Bridget studied her face. Gradually, she saw an idea form in her mind.
"I wanna go take a walk." What?
"Just a walk? That's it?" Bridget asked, surprised. The younger woman nodded enthusiastically, and clarified: "Yeah. I wanna take a walk with a gorgeous, hot girl. Can ya blame me?" She winked as she stepped out of Bridget's arms to close the dishwasher. Bridget chuckled.
"Okay then. I'll go find shoes I can actually walk on," she said, gesturing at the three-inch stiletto heels she was currently wearing. She ran into the bedroom and grabbed a pair of ballet flats from under the bed. After she'd kicked off her heels and put them on, she grabbed a crème-coloured sweater and went back to the living room to find Franky grabbing a jacket.
"Ready?" the brunette asked her.
"Nearly." She pulled the sweater over her head. "Okay. Let's go." Smiling brightly at the brunette, she grabbed her keys, and together they exited through the front door.
As they made their way down the pavement, Bridget grabbed Franky's hand. Franky stopped walking, and looked her in the eye.
"Are you sure, Gidge?"
Bridget nodded.
"Yeah. Fuck Vera, and everyone else. I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
Bridget and Franky fight over their living arrangements in 04x02 "Poking Spiders". This time however, things end differently.
Thank you all for reading! I apologize for any mistakes regarding geographical locations - I am literally on the other side of the world from Melbourne, so I had to rely on the wonders of the internet for information. Please feel free to leave a comment, I appreciate any and all criticism and thoughts!