It was late on Monday evening when Bridget next visited The Java Parlour. She was wearing a trouser suit, having come straight from work. She'd spent all afternoon at Harlow's office working on a strategy for Dawn Cooper's defence. The judge had decided that Dawn was fit to stand trial (the short-sighted prick). They'd carted Dawn off, holding her in remand before she went to trial.

Harlow had called Bridget into the office and they'd worked solidly for 8 hours on Dawn's defence – covering her mental state at the time of the murder. Only stopping to order Chinese takeaway. They'd worked late into the night. Bridget was exhausted and knew she should go straight home… but all that awaited her was a hungry cat, a bottle of red wine and an empty bed. She had an urge to see Franky, had an urge to be somewhere warm and inviting, somewhere that she was welcome.

She stepped into The Java Parlour, thankful to find only a few customers scattered about. The lights were dim, the music soft. It had an enclosed, intimate feel. Franky stood at the counter, her hair loose, she was laughing with Boomer, her smile a welcome sight. It made Bridget's pulse spike and a feeling of rightness invade her.

She stepped up to the counter.

"I'd like to see a shark that would try!" Franky howled, then turned in Bridget's direction, her eyes dancing with mirth. As soon as her eyes settled on Bridget her grin widened. "Hey Gidge!" she greeted warmly.

Bridget grinned back. "Hi."

"What can I get ya?"

Bridget was about to answer when her mobile rang. She scrambled to get it. The caller ID said 'Harlow'. Her stomach tightened. "Sorry – I have to answer this," she mumbled, then turned her back on Franky and moved away from the counter.

Franky watched Bridget intently. Her shoulders hunched as she tried to hear the voice on the other end of her phone. She looked tired and stressed.

Bridget hovered by the door, whispering vehemently into her phone. When the call ended she collapsed into a comfy chair by the french windows. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Dawn had attacked her cell mate. Apparently she'd kicked-off, been sedated and was now being held in the psychiatric unit. Bridget had warned them – Dawn didn't like change – it unsettled her, made her prone to outbursts. Bridget's sure she hadn't meant to hurt her cell mate… but this was not going to help her case in the least.

"One large double shot full-fat cappuccino, extra frothy, just for you," came a soothing voice.

Bridget looked up to see Franky setting a coffee cup in front of her. She smiled faintly. "You don't have to keep doing that."

Franky smiled softly. "You look like you've just run the gauntlet. Least I can do."

Bridget smiled wearily. She reached out, gripped the coffee cup, held it to her nose, breathed in the heavenly scent, closed her eyes and then took a sip. She let out a deep breath, instantly feeling rejuvenated. She opened her eyes and looked up to find Franky watching her, a glimmer in her eyes.

"Better?" Franky asked gently.

"Much."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Bridget set the coffee cup down and rubbed her face. "Bad day at work. I don't want to dump that on you."

Franky sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of Bridget. Her left knee brushed Bridget's playfully. "I'm volunteerin'. Go on. I'm a good listener."

Bridget's brow creased. "I'm working on a difficult case. I've got people coming down on me on all sides."

"Sounds stressful."

"Dawn has been through so much. She's vulnerable. I was supposed to help her and I've let her down."

Franky gave Bridget a heartfelt smile. "Oh I doubt that."

Bridget locked eyes with Franky. There's a pause. Something in the air, shimmering between them, again.

"I know we've only known each other five minutes," Franky continued. "But you strike me as someone who would fight to the death for what she believes in. This girl is lucky to have you in her corner."

Bridget's lost for words for a moment because that was such a kind thing to say, because it's exactly what she needed to hear and because Franky's looking at her with such reverence.

The kitchen door slammed shut, interrupting the moment. They both looked up as Boomer emerged from the back.

Boomer had mopped the kitchen floor and scrubbed every surface of the kitchen within an inch of its life. She scooped-up the left-over croissants and mini cheesecakes from the display counter and threw them into a tupperware box which she closed and tucked securely into her bag.

"Kitchen's done. I'm off." Boomer declared as she headed for the door. "Leave you leso's to discuss your leso things. See ya tomorrow."

"Righto," Franky replied as Boomer exited.

Suddenly Franky realised that she and Bridget were alone. Somehow the rest of her patrons had managed to slope off without her noticing. The place was now filled with silence and expectation.

Bridget glanced at the clock. "I didn't realize it was so late, I'll leave you to - "

Franky put her hand on Bridget's knee to still her. "It's alright. I've still got to lock-up. Finish your coffee."

Bridget felt Franky's fingers burn through her trousers. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Course."

They exchanged a smile, nervous and eager.

Franky stood, withdrawing her hand, making Bridget wish for further contact. Making her wonder if maybe she'd read too much into Franky's flirtation.

It had been a long weary day. So Bridget leaned back against the leather chair and relaxed.

Franky closed the French windows and pulled the blinds. She shut the door, flipped the open sign to 'closed', wiped down the tables and switched off the coffee machine. She turned off the music and flicked the main lights off. By this time Bridget had finished her coffee and stood as Franky moved towards her.

"Thanks for everything," Bridget said gratefully.

"Any time."

They stood there, in the darkness, staring intently at each other. Neither moved. Franky's eyes darted down to Bridget's lips and Bridget's eyes slipped down to Franky's easy smile. There was a lingering hesitancy. They seemed to be frozen: afraid to cross the line, afraid not to.

It's been so long since Bridget felt this, felt anything remotely this powerful. She lost her nerve and stepped away, picking-up her bag. "See you soon," she mumbled.

Downhearted, Franky nodded. She walked Bridget to the door. Wished she could just grab Bridget and kiss her but she didn't want to overstep and risk losing... whatever this was. It was special. It was delicate.

As Bridget left The Java Parlour she heard the sound of Franky turning the lock and sighed internally with disappointment.


Bridget was rushed off her feet for the rest of the week. In-between court appearances, paper work, therapy sessions and evaluations she spent every spare moment thinking of Franky. Of her smoky eyes, kind voice and sexy smile… but she didn't have time to stop by The Java Parlour. She was determined to amend that. She couldn't be alone in this attraction, surely Franky felt it too?