Tempus Fugit

Fandom – Wentworth

Pairing – Franky and Bridget

Rating – M (bad language throughout and adult content much later on)

Summary – Alternative/Extended ending to Season 3 where Franky's parole is delayed due to the fire. Bridget returns to work at Wentworth but it's a struggle to throw up professional boundaries again after she had let them previously slip.

Chapter 7

Franky POV

Franky lay in her thin prison bunk and stared up at the grey ceiling. She had visually mapped out every tiny crack time and time again over the last few months. Usually this happened when she couldn't sleep at night but it was currently only just past ten in the morning.

The inmate had spent the last two days and nights in medical, apart from a brief and disastrous trip out to Bridget Westfall's office, and had only been released after breakfast this morning. She was still in a world of pain but she was mobile and couldn't bear to spend another minute in the sterile medical wing.

The first time she entered H2 the others were still at breakfast so she gathered a fresh uniform and towel before dragging herself to the shower block. It was a risk to go wandering alone but as no one knew she was out of medical yet there was little chance of anyone coming looking for her. Besides she was desperate to stand under the water and figuratively wash away the shit from the last couple of days as well as literally. It didn't matter that the scolding hot water and shower gel caused the few cuts she had to sting like hell.

It had been a common retreat for her when things were fucked up even when she was a child. The running water hid any tears and washed them away. It was a way of pretending she was still strong and that she hadn't in fact just broke down and cried. It was a much needed relief to finally let them spill over after holding them in since the previous morning. It was cathartic. A bit like fucking yourself when you were all wound up…just less pleasurable.

On entering H2 for the second time she had briefly said hello to Boomer, Doreen, little Josh, Sophie and Liz who had all returned from breakfast. The older of the Birdsworth's had fussed over her a little and made her a coffee before letting her retreat to her cell. The brunette had been touched by their concern but was glad to escape their gaze and have some privacy. She hadn't slept well at all the night before and felt physically and emotionally drained. The physical element was down to exhaustion and the beating she had taken but most of the mental element was due to the 'counselling' session the day before.

Franky had never before felt as bewildered as she was after Bridget Westfall stormed out of her own office leaving Franky stood like a lemon. The inmate had been mad at her and she had been fuelled by that anger, hurt and a deep sense of betrayal when pressing the older woman for answers. It had taken her by surprise when the usually stoic psychologist had emotionally capitulated in front of her eyes. Bridget had always been good at hiding her emotions and Franky previously had to just observe her closely and look for the little chinks in the armour. Those little moments when the blonde's guard went down and she smiled a bit too broadly, or flirted slightly, or glanced at Franky's lips. It hadn't been a little moment the day before though. It had been a monumentally huge moment and a sign that Bridget Westfall truly did have feelings for her despite the distance she had been keeping.

She was still hurt and angry, those emotions hadn't vanished just yet. However they had now been matched by a renewed sense of hope that they still had a future together. If Franky could just keep her head above water then she would be out in a month. It didn't sound like long but in prison time ticked by painfully slowly especially when you are under constant risk of fucked up shit happening to you.

As she lay there and pondered the situation with Gidget there was a sudden sharp rap on her door, causing her to jump slightly. The inmate gasped in pain at the sudden movement but managed to compose herself as the door swung open to reveal Miss Miles. The blonde screw looked as bored and emotionally void as ever. Franky wondered what the fuck she had done to deserve the interruption to her peace and quiet.

"Up Doyle" the irritable prison officer demanded without any preamble or greeting.

Franky was sore but she hadn't had a personality transplant or a lobotomy and she couldn't resist irritating the blonde. Pissing off Miss Miles had been a favourite past time of hers for quite some time. It was just too easy and too irresistible.

"Why?" she asked, plastering her trademark smirk across her face and pulling a tongue. The expression made the gash on her temple smart a bit but it was worth it just to see the dramatic roll of the screws eyes.

"You have an appointment with Miss Westfall" the uniformed woman informed her.

Franky tried to keep the cocky expression on her face despite her surprise, determined not to let the screw see her react to the news. It made Franky a lot less interested in annoying the blonde officer and much more interested in why the blonde psychologist would want to see her again so soon. The day before had been an utter fucking disaster right?

"I saw her yesterday…" the words fell out of her mouth before she could stop them.

If the screw noticed anything strange in Franky's tone there was no visual sign of it. She was probably too disinterested to give a fuck anyway. Instead the other woman just looked pissed off with the world and everyone in it.

"She had to cut it short because she was sick or something" Miss Miles snapped at her. "I don't know and I don't care so just move for crying out loud."

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Bridget's POV

Bridget Westfall had never walked out of a session leaving a patient still stood in her office in twenty years in the profession. Inmates had threatened her both verbally and physically but she had always stood her ground and talked them down. Yet by just making physical contact with her, Franky Doyle had thrown the psychologist in such a loop that she was left with no other option than to bolt. No other sane option anyway.

It had played on her mind all evening and she had replayed the whole conversation over in her mind again and again. The blonde had downed a bottle of red wine in her attempt to pick apart the events of their session and figure out what she could have said or done better. In the end she realised that she had tried to be too guarded with the inmate and that Franky would have appreciated open honesty more. In fact Bridget, in her frustration, had handled everything badly since the moment she had stepped foot back in Wentworth Correctional Facility. She should have just spoke to the inmate on the first day and set some honest boundaries whilst the brunette was still incarcerated. Instead she had acted selfishly because of her own dented feelings and made Franky hurt too.

This night of deep reflection had led to her asking for the younger woman to be brought to her office for an unscheduled appointment the next morning. The decision had been made whilst tanked up on wine the night before at which point it had seemed like the simplest thing in the world. However, now Bridget was stood waiting for the brunette to arrive it suddenly felt a lot more complex and terrifying. What if Franky was still mad and refused to talk to her? How would the psychologist diffuse the situation if the inmate refused to sit down and interact with her? It wasn't until she heard movement in the corridor outside her office that she made a decision with how to approach the conversation.

The blonde sat down on her usual armchair to the left hand side and rested her head against the back of her chair. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to muster up as much composure as possible. There was a knock on the door and she responded by calling out for them to come in. Bridget kept her eyes closed as the door opened and then shut again. Once she was sure the two of them would now be alone she opened her eyes to find Franky stood between the doorway and the spare arm chair wearing a blank expression.

Bridget slid forward so she was sat on the very edge of her seat and gestured towards the one opposite her, smiling at the inmate as she did so. The brunette looked lost and almost childlike as she mulled over whether or not to remain standing or take a seat. It was a relief for Bridget to finally see some emotion in the inmate's eyes and a positive sign the younger woman wasn't lost to her.

"Come on Franky…please" Bridget pleaded.

The brunette hesitated for a second or two before moving to take a seat. Bridget could still see uncertainty in Franky's eyes but she could also see hope. The inmate was still wary though and sat down in a defensive position, pressed right back in the chair with her legs tucked under her. The psychologist knew that she had to find a way to engage with the younger woman so she was less tense.

"Hey come here" Bridget encouraged.

The blonde reached out across the space between them and grasped Franky's knees, tugging the inmate's legs out from under her again and drawing them towards her. The brunette looked confused but shuffled forward in the seat so she was also perched just on the edge like Bridget. There was still a little gap between them but they were much closer now and it felt more intimate.

"I'm sorry for the way I have acted this week" the older woman apologised now she was sure she had the inmate's attention. "It's been hard coming back here whilst you are still incarcerated and I thought the way to deal with that was to try and treat you like any other inmate. I know I have hurt you and confused you but I need you to know that I do still care about you deeply."

So many emotions played out across the brunette's face that Bridget found it impossible to keep up with them and read the inmates mood. She was disappointed that in the end Franky's expression stilled on one of her hardened, straight talking looks. The younger woman was still trying to remain on her guard and shut her out.

"What does that mean?" Franky asked, throwing her hands up in frustration. "Does that mean you still want to fuck me or what? I thought I had you figured but now…"

Franky's voice trailed off and she turned her face towards the window of the office, breaking eye contact with Bridget. The psychologist could still see enough of her face though to notice that the brunette's pretty eyes were shining with unshed tears. The broken look on the younger woman's face felt like a tornado ripping apart Bridget's chest. She had always felt saddened by witnessing Franky looking low, it had been an early indicator that the inmate was more important to her than just a patient. Knowing she was the cause though….it absolutely destroyed her.

"I've never wanted to just fuck you Franky" the older woman implored. On instinct she reached out and grasped both the brunette's hands in her own. Franky looked surprised by the contact and her gaze dropped from the window to the clasped hands in the space between them. Bridget could tell that the younger woman was looking at the scabbed over cuts on her knuckles from two days previously.

"Problem is Franky…until you are outside of this facility you are still my patient and I have a duty of care towards you. Nothing can happen between us. I let my guard down previously because I knew you would make parole soon…now it's become almost impossible to try and put any kind of boundary back in place again."

Bridget had spent the entire time she spoke gazing down at their adjoined hands too, trying not to let the feel of the inmates warm and soft skin completely distract her. Despite her focus being elsewhere she didn't miss the frustrated glance the brunette threw her way. She didn't have time to interpret it.

"Is that your excuse for ignoring me when I needed you?" Franky asked as soon as the psychologist had finished speaking.

Bridget could feel the tension radiating off the inmate. It was clear it would take Franky some time to forgive her for what had happened over the last few days and the blonde knew that the inmate had every right to be wary and a little angry. The one thing she had managed to provide Franky with previously was a consistency that the young brunette had always lacked previously. She had tried to help her when others wouldn't and gave her hope. She had kept Franky's dark secret when really she should have informed someone. She had been forced into a corner and had to stop their sessions but had been honest and explained why. She had attended her parole hearing despite being booted from her job at the facility because of her bond with the inmate. This was the first time she'd really let the brunette down. It made Bridget mad with herself so it was only fair she accepted Franky's wrath.

"No" Bridget confessed. "No rightly or wrongly I have been angry with you for landing yourself in here for longer and I've taken that anger out on you by avoiding you."

The blonde was trying to be open and honest about how she felt and why she had acted in the way she did but her words just seemed to make the inmate tenser. Franky pulled their hands apart, causing a sharp pain in Bridget's bruised and cut knuckles, and jumped to her feet.

"Angry with me for saving the life of a fucking kid?" the inmate spat out as she backed a couple of steps away towards the door.

Bridget was usually calm. She rarely had one of those rash moments where she reacted and spoke without thinking it through first. However her frustration at the situation she had found herself in spilled over suddenly and there was a flash of anger. Before Bridget really knew what was happening she was on her feet too and right in front of the young brunette.

"Fucking hell Franky do you think it is easy for me going home to an empty house knowing you could be there with me?! How the fuck do you think I felt when I was told to turn around and drive home because you'd fucked your parole over to play hero?! Did you even think about me at all when you made any of the decisions you made that night?!"

As the words spilled out she could see Franky's expression turn from anger to surprise before plummeting. By the time Bridget finished the brunette looked utterly crestfallen.

"You came to pick me up?" the inmate asked, her voice little more than a whisper. They were both rooted to the spot, eyes locked, only separated by the smallest of spaces.

Franky looked vulnerable and crushed and when the younger woman looked vulnerable it always fucked Bridget up and made her sad. It made her sadder still that the brunette seemed genuinely surprised by the revelation. The psychologist thought despite the watching eyes she had been clear in her intentions towards Franky in the library and then later by turning up at the parole hearing even after losing her job. Franky had always seemed so goddamn sure and cocky about Bridget's attraction to her previous to the psychologist being unceremoniously shoved out of Wentworth. Did she really think that Bridget would just walk away and forget her?

"If you really need to ask me that then I have no idea what we are doing here" the blonde eventually replied.

Bridget's voice cracked in the final couple of words as her emotions threatened to spill over completely. Any anger she felt had now given way to a gloomy low feeling that made her feel weighed down and weak. Despite how desolate she felt it still surprised her when she felt a trail of liquid run down her right cheek and then another and another. She closed her eyes to try and stem the tide but it was no use.

"Bridget" the inmate gasped her name.

The blonde wasn't used to letting others see her emotions or weaknesses but Franky was right there in front of her and couldn't miss the tears. Strong hands smoothed across Bridget's upper arms and clasped them, drawing her forward and against the supple body of the inmate. Bridget could feel the warmth of Franky's body emanating through their clothing and despite her tears the feeling drove her insane. It was comforting and she wanted to sink in to the younger woman and stay there forever, never letting go. However the whole situation was highly inappropriate and Bridget tried to cling to the remnants of her self-control by pushing the inmate away with her two hands on the brunette's stomach. She could feel the muscle tone through the vest top the inmate was wearing. Bridget had often lay awake at night imagining what it would be like to touch the younger woman. She knew Franky would have great muscle tone from all the exercising and weights she did but those fantasies hadn't prepared her for the feel of the real thing. As Franky took a dejected step backwards her abdominal muscles flexed under Bridget's hands and all the blood in Bridget's body rushed in the opposite direction of her brain.

That little bit of remaining self-control she had been clinging to vanished into the ether as her body reacted to the rush of desire she felt. Her hands, which hand been flat against the brunette's stomach, grasped roughly at Franky's hips and hauled the other woman back towards her. The inmate came without protest and their lips crashed together in a desperate kiss. The tide that Bridget had been swimming against felt like it had finally caught her and washed her away. She was kissing the inmate like the world was ending or her life depended on it…but the heart-stoppingly amazing thing was that Franky was returning the kiss with as much need and vigour; her hands all over Bridget's back and shoulders.

The older woman was lost in a sea of sensation as their lips collided again and again. When the brunette's tongue came into contact with her own for the first time Bridget let out what could only be described as a growl. It only encouraged Franky further and the inmate pressed her back a step so she was wedged between the desk and the younger woman. The feeling of the inmates body pressed against every inch of her front was both incredible and unbearable. There were too many layers between them and their bare skin. She was desperate to feel Franky and it was fogging her better judgement.

In an aroused haze she managed to press her hands between their bodies and under the brunette's singlet. Muscles flexed and quivered under her touch as she ran her hands all over the younger woman's abdomen, forgetting about the bruises that must be present from the beating the inmate had taken. If it hurt Franky showed no signs of it bothering her. Most of the skin was smooth but the blonde could feel the litany of small cigarette burn scars she had read about in the inmates file. The moan Franky let out at the contact was almost primal and she started to unzip Bridget's grey jacket. Despite how much she wanted the younger woman the sound of the zip knocked Bridget back to her senses. If she didn't put a stop to this now they would end up fucking against the desk and probably getting caught. She knew the second Franky's hands touched bare skin she would be too far fucking gone to stop.

The hands that had been mapping the inmate's skin became the only thing that could put a distance between them and she pushed the younger woman back a step to give her some breathing space to regroup. Franky stumbled backwards, caught by surprise, but too aroused to realise the significance. Bridget could see the desire the brunette felt for her written all over Franky's face and it was exhilarating. They were both terribly wound up and gasping for oxygen; chests heaving. It was hard to muster the willpower to put her hands out and prevent Franky stepping back into kissing her again but somehow the blonde managed it.

"Stop" Bridget instructed breathlessly, closing her eyes in an attempt to regain some control. "I shouldn't have done that…I'm sorry."

The younger woman grasped her wrists and gently tugged them down to her sides, removing the barrier between them. Bridget could sense her stepping closer again even though Franky made no other physical contact other than the hands wrapped around her own. She didn't dare open her eyes because she feared that if she looked into the brunette's eyes she would just capitulate on the spot.

"This can't happen whilst you are here" the psychologist pleaded.

It wasn't meant to sound like she was begging the inmate to stop, there was meant to be an element of authority in her tone but the intention hadn't made it into reality. For a moment she thought her pleading had fallen on deaf ears as Franky moved closer still. She could feel the younger woman's warm breath against her lips and she steeled herself in preparation for the attempted kiss. It never came. Instead the brunette gently pressed her forehead against Bridget's own and relaxed her grip on the blonde's wrists, slipping her hands into Bridget's and interlocking their fingers. She could feel the butterfly stitches from the younger woman's head wound but it didn't seem to be bothering the inmate.

"I know" Franky sighed.

The blonde dared to open her eyes now that the inferno that had been engulfing them seemed to have calmed. The inmate's chest was still heaving slightly, as was Bridget's own, but it was the only thing that gave away the previous tension. Franky's eyes were closed, there was a slight smile on her lips and there was a look of absolute serenity on her face. Bridget had never seen her so calm nor had she seen her look so damn beautiful. It gave the psychologist a flash of what a non-incarcerated Franky would look like…not having to keep up appearances or look over her shoulder all the time; and of what their life could look like if they could just show some control for another few weeks.

"Not here…Not yet" Franky mumbled, repeating words previously used by Bridget weeks before in the library.

The brunette pulled back as she spoke so their temples were no longer pressed together. Bridget missed the contact immediately; even more so when inmate released her hands too. The psychologist did not have to long for her touch again for long though as Franky raised her right arm and delicately stroked Bridget's jaw with the pad of her thumb. The tenderness of the action coupled with the younger woman's shining, hopeful blue eyes made Bridget's heart pound so hard she felt like it would burst out her chest.

"I can live with that" Franky said softly as she continued to caress the blonde's jaw line. "As long as between these four walls you spend some of the time talking to me like someone who wants to get to know me and not just a fucking shrink."

It was a very reasonable request and an appealing one at that. Given the fact Vera had scheduled the other people affected by the fire in for two sessions a week Bridget had a precedent to see Franky twice a week as well. Two hours was barely anytime at all but it was better than nothing. Without prying eyes they could talk about anything they wanted. Bridget knew all these horrible details about the brunette's childhood and she knew Franky as a person and personality; yet she knew virtually nothing about what Franky enjoyed or didn't enjoy. She longed to know simple little details like the brunette's favourite colour or favourite dish to cook.

"I'd like that" Bridget agreed.

The brunette's face lit up and she smiled broadly at the psychologist. Her enthusiasm was epidemic and Bridget couldn't help but smile back at her.

"I haven't quite forgiven you yet you know?" Franky admitted; the smile never left her face though.

"I know" Bridget replied calmly. "I haven't forgiven me either."

Franky let out a single low chuckle at the psychologist's acknowledgement. She reached up with her other hand and cupped both of Bridget's cheeks, gazing into her eyes briefly, before releasing her completely and stepping back. The blonde wondered what Franky had been looking for in her gaze and if the inmate had found it there.

"I should probably go and take a cold shower or something" the younger woman quipped, smoothing down her bunched up singlet with the palm of her hands.

Bridget's hands had followed the same route just minutes before and the memory of how the brunette felt underneath them made her mouth dry. Adding to that the mental imagery of Franky standing unclothed under a stream of cold water left Bridget terribly aroused again. The blonde stepped back and leant against the desk, smoothing her own clothes down as she moved.

"Uh-huh" was the only reply Bridget managed to utter.

Franky smirked at the obvious affect her words had on the psychologist but she didn't pass comment. Instead she turned and made her way to the door, stopping before opening it and turning back towards the blonde.

"Better get out that appointment book of yours and pencil me in Gidge" she teased, before opening the door and sauntering out.

Bridget sighed into the empty room. Franky really was like a hurricane but the psychologist loved being in the eye of her storm. The inmate certainly wasn't the only one who could do with that cold shower.