Standing outside the cell door, Joan peers through the rectangular window and sees Vera sitting hunched over on the bed, staring down at the floor. Her shackled hands rest atop her lap. Joan reaches for her radio.

"Control, come in. This is the Governor," she says, taking two steps back from the door.

"Go 'head, Governor."

"I want the video feed to Unit 83 disabled immediately. I will advise when it is to be turned back on."

"Copy that."

Joan slides her free hand into her left jacket pocket and brings out a set of master keys. She re-approaches the cell to unlock it. The door creaks as she pulls it open, prompting Vera to look over. Her Deputy's expression is blank, but Joan can sense her anger.

Joan pulls the keys from the lock and closes the door behind her as she steps into the room. Without a word, she walks up to Vera and unlocks the handcuffs. She slips the keys back into her pocket and sits next to the younger woman, placing the radio on the mattress. Sitting with perfect posture, Joan crosses her hands on her lap and looks at Vera.

"How are you coping, Vera?"

Vera gives Joan a sideways glance as she rubs her wrists. "Like you really care."

Joan tilts her head up and away from Vera. She crosses her legs and takes a deep breath. "I know you are upset, Vera– you've experienced a traumatic event– but I hope you can understand why I made the decision I did," she says in a calm voice looking back at her Deputy.

Vera frowns and glares at Joan with icy blue eyes. "You put my life at risk, Joan. How can you justify that?"

"As Governor, Vera, I have to make tough decisions for the greater good," she says, matter-of-fact. "Conceding to the prisoners is a slippery slope. You should understand that."

"Don't you give me that 'greater good' bullshit," Vera blurts out as she stands up. Her face is red. She leans toward Joan and points to the spot on her neck where the needle pressed against her skin. "They held a fucking syringe to my throat and threatened to inject me," she yells, causing the vein in her left temple to swell. "All you had to do was open the Goddamn door to isolation, but you said, 'No.' Like it was no big deal."

Joan studies Vera with interest. This once docile woman is seething. She has never seen Vera in such an agitated state, and it fascinates her. Although she is the subject of the other woman's rage, Joan is proud. She knows she is responsible for making Vera a stronger woman.

"They weren't going to harm you, Vera."

Vera laughs. "How could you know that for certain? I didn't realize you were psychic!"

"You're being childish," Joan says, unamused. "I have worked in corrections far longer than you, Vera. This was not the first time inmates have threatened me or my staff in an attempt to gain something. They were testing my mettle, seeing how much they could get away with. I have never buckled to prisoner demands and I am not about to start now."

"Of COURSE not! The almighty Joan Ferguson must never appear weak," Vera mocks. "I can't believe I was stupid enough to think you cared about me. The only thing you care about is your reputation."

Joan springs up from the mattress. "Enough! Get ahold of yourself, Vera," she says in a raised tone. She steps forward until the dainty woman is backed against the cinder block wall. Her eyes flicker with an intensity Vera hasn't seen before. "You have no idea how difficult it was to stand there and watch the woman I love being brutalized by filthy thugs. I felt powerless!" she shouts, slamming her right palm against the wall.

In realizing her Freudian slip, Joan takes an abrupt step back. Vera's eyes widen in disbelief. Did the Governor just say what she thinks she did?

Since Joan arrived at Wentworth, Vera found herself drawn to the older woman. Her assertiveness, confidence and intellect were qualities Vera fast admired. This initial admiration blossomed into a physical attraction, and over the past several months, the women have developed a bond that goes beyond the realms of ordinary supervisor-employee relations. There is an unacknowledged chemistry between them, one that both women would deny if confronted. Rather than recognizing their mutual attraction, the Governor and Deputy Governor have engaged in carefully choreographed dance, each dropping subtle hints through verbal and nonverbal cues.

Joan crosses her hands over her stomach and glances at the small cell window. "The woman I love working with," she begins.

"What?" Vera asks with confusion.

Joan redirects her attention to Vera. "It was difficult for me to watch the woman I love working with being brutalized," she says in a nonchalant manner. "You are a wonderful Deputy Governor; a true asset to this department. The last thing I want is to see you in harm's way."

She walks over to the window and examines the various inmate etchings on the glass. "I value you, Vera. I wanted nothing more than to run to your aid in that moment, but I could not do that. As Governor, I must react to situations with a level head." She turns and takes slow steps across the concrete floor until she is once again standing in front of her Deputy. "I cannot let my emotions dictate the decisions I make. If you cannot understand that, you will never be ready to take on the Governorship."

Mouth agape, Vera looks at the Governor with irritation. "Are you serious?"

"We have nothing further to discuss," Joan replies as she retrieves the two-way radio from the mattress. Heading for the door, she turns to face Vera. "I suggest you stop into medical for an evaluation."

With a firm tug to her jacket, Joan walks out of the unit. Vera slides down the wall to sit on the floor. She leans her head back and sighs. Not far outside, she can hear Joan instructing the security office to reactivate the video feed to that unit. She shuts her eyes and listens as the sound of Joan's heels clicking against the floor fades away.