I would say I'm sorry for taking so long. Instead, I'll just point out that I get less motivated without reviews.
Holidays I
It was rare for a group of anarchists to ever unite since that defeats their purpose of breaking down any and all systems of order. At St. Trinian's the girls prefer to practice revolution on a highly individual level. On rare occasions, however, they found themselves unified by a common mission. Once again, it was now time to combine forces to resist an outside enemy. No bank or secret society met with such vehement resistance as the parents coming to fetch their daughters for winter break.
The gates had been locked, the doors of the school barricaded and the rest of the grounds protected by roof snipers and remote detonation land mines. The girls that did choose to go home for the holidays (mostly because they had to check in with their probation officers) were escorted through the gates by heavily armed First Years equipped for maximum crowd control. The majority of girls stayed safely ensconced within the walls of their school, occasionally launching rockets and paint bombs into the crowd of confused adults outside the fences.
There would be no awkward, extended family dinners for these girls. No long hours of services in uncomfortable seats and starched knickers. No having to watch little Tommy's Christmas Pageant. Certainly no pretending to like Great-Aunt Mathilda's home made gifts. They couldn't be torn from St. Trinian's by a nuclear blast. Not after the word had spread that Kelly and Belle were coming home.
The crowd of hysterical, confused, demanding and vaguely relieved parents finally dissipated after two days. That was when the gates opened for a familiar black sports car to slide up the drive. Kelly and Belle weren't even halfway up the driveway when they saw movement on the roof and in the windows. The closer they came the more silhouettes spilled out along the turrets or flung open shutters to have an uninterrupted view. You could practically hear the hive mind of St. Trinian's murmuring to itself: "Is it? It can't be. No, it must! 7-3 it's not. What, are you blind? Doubles on!"
Then the girls disappeared from the windows. Lines of ladders and ropes were flung off the roof, small bodies growing larger as they dropped to earth amidst the students flooding out the doors. Kelly eased her coupe around the circle drive and barely had time to hit the parking brake before girls were climbing excitedly all over the car. Footprints on the bonnet, perfect.
"I think they missed us." Kelly smirked to Belle, able to hear the dull roar of cheers and shrieks through the heavy glass. The two world travelers climbed from the car and were immediately engulfed. Tania and Tara each grabbed one of them, their latest growth spurts giving them enough force to push the older girls to the ground as they screamed happily.
"You were meant to be here two days ago! What happened? Have to break out of jail?" Bianca stood apart from the chaos, representing the ring of older girls.
"Nah, it took 'em that long to hijack a plane!" another girl at random shouted with a laugh.
"The plane is the easy part. These days it's stealing the fuel that takes forever!" Belle pointed out with a chuckle. She'd managed to sit up and might have gotten to her feet except the Twins chose that strategic moment to switch places, tackling the girls to the ground; again.
"Ooh, laser scopes!" True opportunists to the core, all the younger girls were swarming the car in search of presents and hazardous materials - hopefully both combined in one item.
"Oi! Out of the car!" Kelly shouted, laughing as she tried to wrestle her way out of the enthusiastic hug. She thumbed the remote on her key fob, causing the doors to close and lock; almost taking a Third Year's ankle off.
"Aw, Kel! That's cheating." Tania moaned and sat up atop the older girl.
"Only thing that works at St. Trinian's. Well, besides the plumbing. Up, up, Girls!" Camilla spoke from the doorway, snapping her fingers. The primal First and Second Years all obeyed, backing away to allow the Headmistress through. Both girls were just getting to their feet and dusting themselves off when the lofty form of Fritton Sr. loomed up to them.
"Kelly Jones, have you been treating my niece with the respect, tenderness and admiration a lady deserves?" Camilla looked firmly down her nose at the former Head Girl. It was the same look she'd employed in years past when demanding to know who had put chilies in the jam (Kelly), or skunks in the teachers' lounge (Kelly), or explosives in the toilets (Kelly but Polly helped). The glare didn't work then either
"I doubt it." Kelly's tongue curled in the corner of her lips, punctuating her feral smile as she winked at Annabelle.
"Absolutely not." Belle agreed, grinning and sliding her hand into Jones' back pocket.
"Good. Hate to think the bedroom was getting cold already. Welcome home! Lolly, we have some things to catch up. Miss Jones, do let those girls out the car before they figure out how to hot-wire it." Camilla smiled.
Belle and Kelly obeyed immediately, freeing the younger students and following the Headmistress back into the school. They loved her too much to be scared of her but knew better than to ever dare disobey. Camilla led them to her office, pausing outside the closed door.
"Best lesson from the Stoics: just rip the plaster off, eh, girlie?" she nodded for Belle to walk in the room. She did, and saw her father sitting in a chair by the desk. She immediately backed out again, letting the door fall shut.
"I can't!" she turned to her aunt, already feeling the beginning surges of emotions she didn't want to deal with. She'd expected a few days of peace and safety here in her home before having to deal with that. Time to get centered and prepared before dredging up everything Carnaby Fritton meant. Too many memories, too many feelings. She shivered, prompting Kelly to come to her side and hold her securely.
"Ah-ah!" Camilla rebuked, "It has been two years, Annabelle. If you can change within your first short weeks here with us, imagine what we've been able to do with him for the last 6!"
"Six weeks? He's been here?" Annabelle's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He'd never left the gallery for more than two! Could he have changed? She thought of how he'd looked in that split second when she opened the door. He'd been sitting with his elbows on his knees, leaned forward with his brow furrowed as he stared at the floor as though it might provide answers. She'd never in her life seen him look so uncomfortable.
"Once he found out you were coming to visit he was willing to do anything I said. I decided that since the girls' programs did such wonders for helping Geoffrey's recovery, we might be able to do the same with your father."
"I don't think a few AA meetings are going to cover everything." Kelly spat. She tried not to hate Carnaby, she really did. She saw how Belle cried when she thought of her father and knew how much she still loved him; even with all the betrayals. So Kelly wouldn't say a word against him. No matter how badly she wished she could. He was her father.
"Oh no, of course not!" Camilla agreed, "Which is why we devised a whole new program just for him! We're calling it '12 Steps for Shitheads.' I expect it will have quite broad application. The Twins really made it their own with the negative reinforcement."
"Auntie!" Belle was openly aghast, imagining KGB heavy torture techniques reinvented by the 12 year old delinquents. She'd wished her father dead a million times but slowly torture wasn't part of the fantasy.
"Oh, nothing too severe! For major infractions there was a bit of scrotal electroshock, naturally; for the most part it was minor violations. Easy enough to punish with a striptease from Matron."
"What?" Belle demanded, barely heard over Kelly's laughter.
"She has to be there to monitor heart rate and blood pressure anyway. The girls decided to put her to use." Camilla shrugged.
Annabelle was silent as she processed all the information, absently squeezing Kelly's hand that rested on her hip. Her father had been willing to endure six weeks of the Twins and Matron. Six weeks here at St. Trinian's where he was either going to be a villain or a victim. Just so he could see her.
"Alright. Let's see what he has to say." Belle nodded, keeping Kelly close as her aunt opened the door to allow them through. Carnaby's eyes shot up the moment the door opened and he half got out of his chair. Perhaps it was the sight of Belle's arms wrapped so tightly around Jones that made him hesitate. Or the glare in Kelly's eyes. They settled into the small sofa across from him.
"I thought we might talk alone?" the only living Fritton male glanced to his sister.
"It's either Kelly or the Twins. Your choice, Carnaby." the Headmistress shrugged, slipping into the seat behind her desk like a judge opening her session in court.
"No, no," Carnaby immediately recanted, "It's fine this way. No trouble."
"Hello, Daddy." Annabelle tried to say something else, to avoid the term of familiarity but it just spilled out of its own volition. He was daddy; that couldn't be changed at will.
"Annabelle. You look wonderful." Carnaby smiled at her. He looked almost, no; was that? He looked like he might actually be pleased with her. Possibly even proud. What the hell had they done to him? His eyes darted over to Kelly for a moment but shifted away quickly, seeing the hate festering in her gaze.
"Who's minding the gallery?" Belle asked, part of her brain acting as audience to the whole conversation. She was watching herself feel awkward and uncertain, trying desperately to not slip back into her childhood.
"Temporarily closed. Plenty of business waiting when I get back." he shrugged. That wasn't like him at all. Her father was little more than a high-end used car salesman. He squeezed for each and every sale and schmoozed like his life depended on it. He'd sell his own soul to the devil provided he could write the contract.
"Why are you here?" Belle finally blurted out, too confused by the thoughts rebounding in her head. Her father hesitated and pressed his hands together, massaging the knuckles of one fist. She'd never seen him nervous. It was like seeing a skeleton come to life; horrifying and fascinating at the same time.
"I missed you, Annabelle."
"Like hell." Kelly grumbled. She received a sharp glance from Camilla, suggesting that anymore outbursts would get her ejected from the room. There was a moment of anger flashing up in Carnaby's eyes and she could see his mouth opening with a sharp retort. Here would be the true nature of the asshole. All Frittons had a temper, his was just the most offensive. His whole face showed the anger about to spill out of his mouth at this upstart girl that dared take away his daughter.
"Carnaby! Don't make me send for Matron!" Camilla barked, silencing her brother before the snide insult could spill from his lips. His mouth opened and closed a few times as his eyes widened, replaying horrors of old. He clamped his lips into a tight line, staring at an invisible spot in the distance until his jaw unclenched and he could take a deep, calming breath.
"I missed you becoming who you are, Belle," Carnaby explained, voice shaking with the effort of controlling his emotions, "I didn't really know it until the day I saw you here as one of these girls; someone I didn't recognize. I realized I had no idea who you were or how you got there."
"No. You don't." Belle agreed, biting her lower lip because the sincerity in his tone was almost heartbreaking. She'd heard him apologize a million times. I'm sorry, I'll never see her again. I'm sorry I stayed out so late. Sorry I couldn't get you to school, ruined your homework, scared your mates, slept with your friend. I'll never take that drug again, never hurt you, never lie . . .The apologies and promises had been endless. But never once had she seen her father so earnest as at this moment. She'd grown up detecting bullshit and had no idea how to cope with not sensing it.
"I want to; I want to know my daughter. You never should have had to chase my girlfriends out of the apartment next morning, or fix hangover cures, or clean up the mess after parties. You didn't get to be a child because you were too busy taking care of me. Then I go and criticize you for being the only stability in my world!" he sighed, worrying a hand through his silver hair.
Annabelle's mouth was hanging open and she couldn't even think how to make it shut. Kelly was staring as well. The first step of any 12-step was admitting you had a problem. Belle's father had pretty much just confessed to being a total wanker. This was the same man who'd called Belle an 'abomination' a short while back, when he'd figured out about her and Kelly. If Camilla's program could really make an asshole change this much, they should package it for parliament!
Annabelle and Kelly exchanged glances, a silent conversation progressing in their eyes. In that gaze want, warning, fear, hope, skepticism and permission all flashed back and forth in a matter of seconds. Kelly just gave a subtle nod, letting the younger girl know it was her decision and she'd back her play, no matter what.
"So, you want to get to know me?" Belle nodded and swallowed her emotions into control, "Let's do. It has been two years. Let's catch up."
Carnaby looked at her in delighted surprise as she settled back into the sofa, arm around Kelly's shoulder. They talked about the gallery, its newest acquisitions and latest goals. Belle told him about her last year at school, the Fritton treasure and escapade with AD1. Carnaby's wide eyes could have been shocked about the Shakespeare revelation; except Kelly realized he was actually watching Belle's hand. Her fingers had begun tracing aimless patterns over Jones' shoulder, neck and breastbone. His eyes were following each small, intimate caress. Kelly restrained her smirk, realizing exactly what Annabelle was doing. He says he's changed? Let's see how much.
As they talked about various places of travel and adventures in different countries Kelly let her hand slide along Belle's leg. Her fingers roamed casually, provocatively, over the bare skin of her knee and thigh. Carnaby was having trouble not staring at their teasing touches. There was a definite twitch of a scowl in the corner of his mouth when Kelly ran her fingers along the hem of Belle's skirt. This is going to be fun!
They both continued the intimate contact and playful caresses as Belle told stories about their time in America. Carnaby was obviously trying to focus on her face and NOT on the hands violating his daughter's body. Particularly now that Kelly had slid her arm around Belle and was stroking her fingers up her ribs; her other hand now occupying the shapely, warmed knee. The spy decided to push a final button and let her fingers graze Belle's breast.
"Excuse me." Fritton was on his feet in an instant and stalking out the door, a storm cloud following his expression. Belle and Kelly looked at each other and giggled.
"Laying it on a bit thick, don't you think, girls?" Camilla sighed and went to follow her brother and talk him down. Therapy might be effective but nothing could truly prepare him for these two girls together.
"No," Kelly grinned at her girlfriend, "This is."
She pressed Annabelle against the arm of the sofa with a passionate kiss, pushing her half off the furniture and pinning the rest of her body. Belle had to concentrate not to laugh at the suddenness of the attack. She smiled into the kiss, burying her hands in Kelly's jet hair and arching for more contact. They both listened intently; pleased to hear the door open and a sudden squeal of shock from Carnaby before it slammed shut again. Kelly broke away, joining Belle in breathless laughter.
"This is going to be the better than when we gave the First Years tranquilizer darts!" Kelly barely managed to speak between laughs. Belle rested against her, gasping for air as her own chuckles calmed. She smiled into Kelly's shoulder. Maybe her father had changed. Maybe not. That could only be judged with time. Meanwhile, they could definitely have fun plucking his brittle little nerve strings.
Camilla Fritton smirked as she watched her brother get hauled away to another round of 'therapy.' It really had done wonders for his personality. The arrogant, greedy prick who'd once sold her panties as "authentic virgin's," (she'd been 8 at the time) had certainly been humbled. Even this past week, with Kelly and Belle deliberately flirting in his presence, he'd managed not to completely revert to his old male-chauvinist self. There'd been some close calls. Particularly the time they decided to have a snog on the billiards table in the middle of a game. Belle's father had very nearly grabbed the spy to throw her across the room but the presence of other girls stopped him. He simply broke a pool cue and burst a blood vessel in his eye instead. Small injury compared to what Kelly might've done if he'd laid hands on her.
The girls were strategically pushing him to the edge, waiting to see if his explosion would be aimed at Annabelle, Kelly or St. Trinian's itself. Thus far, he'd held his control. Even Camilla was impressed, she wouldn't have expected him to endure such sustained provocation.
"Camilla!" Geoffrey called to her from down the corridor and she turned, smiling at the sight of the former minister striding towards her. He always managed to look wonderfully in control and yet vaguely confused. That was probably only a result of being here at the school. There was no other place that pulled the rug from under his feet as consistently as Fritton's school for female anarchy.
"The one and only, Geoffrey. You're looking dapper this morning." Headmistress Fritton smiled at her long time romance. It was always hard to know what to call him. Boyfriend? Lover? Old Flame? Great Shag? Fabulously Fit Piece of Ass? Rather than worry about labels, Camilla simply called him Geoffrey. It was marvelously multifunction.
"Yes, I'm afraid I've just had some bad news. Can we chat?"
"I rather thought we were. Was this more a banter?" Camilla teased, watching Thwaites' face screw up in a moment of confusion before relaxing into a frustrated chuckle.
"Camilla," he took her arm and guided her towards the quieter entryway, "I just heard from my ex-wife. She's gone off to some seminar in Munich. Advanced Ball Busting for Experts I would expect. The problem is, this leaves Verity with me for the holidays."
"Oh dear." Camilla acknowledged in a tone completely lacking sympathy. She developed a slightly harder set to her jaw and eyes where the Thwaites' offspring was brought into conversation.
"She wouldn't exactly be welcome here. Not easily. I thought perhaps Belle could set the tone? If she and Kelly could strike a truce then perhaps it wouldn't be open warfare waged across the grounds." Thwaites had the sort of desperate hope in his eyes that was generally associated with children determined to cling to the idea of Santa Claus.
Camilla gazed at his sincere expression, marveling. This was how a father was supposed to be: part teacher, part advisor, part hero. When he can no longer smooth away all the bumps and hazards of the coming life, he wants to at least navigate his children through. Long after the kiddies have grown, or rebelled, or washed their hands clean of all family ties; it is still the good father that tries to guide them through the coming dangers. Just because they don't listen never stops him trying to warn. How did someone as concerned and involved as Geoffrey Thwaites produce an utter twat like Verity while her own negligent prick of a brother somehow managed to be rewarded with Annabelle?
"Shame you didn't bring Verity to me as a child. We could've done such wonders with her! But now? She is, as you say, persona non grata at St. Trinian's. She and my niece have been enemies far too long." she shook her head. The athletic Cheltenham graduate could've become something truly great, if only she hadn't graduated Cheltenham.
"They aren't schoolgirls anymore. Surely they've matured enough to settle their differences amicably?" Geoffrey protested.
Annabelle chose that moment to storm down the main staircase, hauling a rope attached to the ankles of a screaming Sixth Former. The girl was yelling in staccato, the cries interrupted with the jarring bump of each step. She clawed desperately for purchase but couldn't get any secure grip as Belle dragged her steadily along.
"Oh, do stop crying! The piranhas only attack if they smell blood!" Belle shouted over her shoulder before pulling the helpless victim outside with a wicked smile. The dumb slag would never again make any comments about wanting a piece of Kelly's ass. Not after this.
"I think it might be best if you made other arrangements for your daughter." Miss Fritton finally announced after having watched her niece well away. Geoffrey just nodded, swallowing a lump of horror in his throat. The village inn would be ample for Verity. Certainly safer.