"We say I love you, but we ain't together."

They're the perfect team. But of course, Lorna had known that already. The riot is scary, but running the pharmacy with Nicky makes Lorna feel normal, sinking back into the effortlessness of their dynamic as though things haven't been tense between them lately. It's controlled chaos—Lorna's at the window, wearing the lab coat that makes her feel oh-so official, just another kind of playing pretend. Nicky's in the back, handling the actual drugs with an ease that can only have come from hours of staring at her mother's well-stocked medicine cabinet, deciding which drug to try next. The junkie philosopher has become a junkie pharmacist, and Lorna has to say, it suits her.

Nicky has always been at her best when she's helping other people, and now her drug knowledge has a purpose beyond self-destruction. Lorna could see her doing this job in another life—what a different life that would be!—with a lab coat of her own and a nametag that says Nicole Nichols, pharmacy technician. But right now, in this life, she's just as Lorna likes her: cuffed sleeves on khaki uniform, hair wild, mascara overapplied so she looks a bit like a raccoon. She's even cuffed the ankles of her pant legs, as though she hadn't looked gay enough to begin with. It's ridiculous, but Lorna finds it endearing.

Lorna's dispensing the drugs, and she's really not trying to eavesdrop, but it's just that Soso's in the back talking to Nicky, and she has to admit she's a little curious. She's never quite been able to pin down that girl; maybe it's that she's Asian, and therefore different from anyone else in the prison (well, except Chang, but frankly, Lorna's a little bit scared of her) or maybe it's the fact that she can't seem to shut up for two seconds. Or maybe it's something else.

Maybe Soso reminds Lorna a little bit of herself.

Lorna knows that Brook had slept with Nicky, too. Oh, yes, of course she knows, because that particular event had happened back in the days of Nicky's very public fuck-contest with Boo, and Brook Soso had been one of the many girls Nicky had made scream in the chapel (and the showers… and the bunks… and god only knew where else) during those few days. Lorna also knows what, exactly, Nicky had done to shut her up, because of course Soso hadn't stopped babbling about it after the fact. That's what really makes her jealous, though she'll never admit it. Because Nicky had been so shy about the first time she'd let Lorna touch her that way, and Lorna had thought for a moment she might be special. And then Nicky had gone off and let fucking Mulan, with her big Disney princess eyes and her loud-fucking-mouth, go down on her as though it meant nothing.

Then, of course, Soso had started dating that black girl, the one who'd died—what was her name? something French-sounding? Lorna could never remember—and it had made Lorna get to thinking. Maybe Nicky had been the gateway drug for Soso, too; maybe there's just something about Nicky that makes the straight girls turn gay. Not that Lorna is gay or anything. She's not like Soso—she hasn't even looked at any other girl that way, only Nicky. For some reason, Nicky is different. For some reason—even though Lorna knows she shouldn't, especially now that she's married—Lorna wants Nicky in a way she doesn't want anyone else. So she flirts, teases, then rebuffs Nicky's advances just before anything can really happen. She knows it's not fair; she knows it'll get her into trouble someday, when the temptation to take it too far wins out, but she doesn't care. Lorna feeds her desire a little bit at a time, always holding back the most important parts of herself.

So yes, she's curious about what Soso has to say to Nicky. But Nicky must not know Lorna's listening—or she does and just doesn't care, Lorna thinks in a daze—because her next words are strikingly honest, unguarded in a way that's uncharacteristic of her. Well, uncharacteristic now. She used to be like this with Lorna all the time, but ever since Lorna had ended things… she realizes only now that it wasn't just the sex that had disappeared. Nicky's vulnerability had gone, too.

"Nah, you're gonna get addicted to heroin," Nicky is saying, making the words sound casual somehow, "get sent down to Max for doing some stupid junkie shit, find yourself sucking off a CO in a closet for one last hit, and, you know, maybe realize that you were just hopelessly in love with an incredible, insane, beautiful woman who's never going to love you back."

She pauses, and Lorna swears she's waiting for a reaction, but that's impossible, how could she know Lorna's even listening, and then—

"It is just not worth it," Nicky concludes.

Lorna is glad she's facing away from Nicky, because she can't disguise the tremor that twinges through her entire body like an electric shock. Her face drops, features blank; she doesn't even know what she's saying to the 'patient' in front of her, but she soldiers on, determined to pretend everything is normal.

…hopelessly in love…

It's not like she doesn't know it already. This doesn't have to change anything.

…incredible, insane, beautiful woman…

She knows that, too; Vinnie tells her all the time over the phone or during visitation how beautiful she is. Still, hearing it from Nicky's lips makes her glow a little inside.

…never going to love you back…

It's this last bit that Lorna doesn't know what to do with. Because she does love Nicky back. Or does she?

Sometimes Lorna is so sure of how she feels. But then… Nicky has been so different ever since she'd come back from Max. Lorna is different now, too. She'd loved Nicky before, but now…

Maybe it's lust. Maybe it's that they're in prison and Nicky has always been right about one thing: Lorna does need to be touched. Maybe it's just that she loves Nicky like a best friend. Maybe she just needs a prison wife.

Lorna knows she loves Vinnie. Vinnie is everything she's ever wanted: he is steady, loyal, protective. He calls her silly little pet names and he's a champion dirty talker and he's even Italian, and what could be better than that? When she looks at Vinnie, Lorna feels warm inside. That's what love is supposed to feel like.

Her feelings for Nicky are nothing like that, so how can that be love, too? It's painful, almost, the way she feels when they're together. Everything inside of her screams that it's a bad idea, but then they kiss and they touch and Nicky holds her and that pain dulls to a throbbing ache, a longing. It's in those moments that Lorna forgets how she thought she could ever live without Nicky. She always returns, like a moth to a flame, knowing this relationship might destroy her in the end but somehow wanting it anyway.

And she knows she'd said it: 'I love you, too.' 'It's not like my feelings for you just went away.' But things are different now. She's a married woman, she made vows. Looking at Nicky Nichols makes her want to break every one of them, but she can't; she was raised to be a good Catholic girl, wasn't she? So no matter how much Lorna wants to run her hands over Nicky's body the way she used to, she can't let herself. She's been given a second chance at a real life, a normal life, and it might be the last chance she ever gets.

It all sounds like something out of a rom com, what Nicky has said. This is the darkest moment: Nicky Nichols, the plucky protagonist, is hopeless. Her true love—played by the alluring, gorgeous Lorna Morello—has left her all alone, the result of some silly misunderstanding. Nicky stares longingly, confesses her love when she thinks Lorna won't hear. But of course she does—the misunderstanding is resolved. They'll kiss; there will a big church wedding, and then they'll ride off into the sunset toward their happily-ever-after.

Except that this is real life. Lorna Muccio has already had her (not-big, not-church) wedding already, and it wasn't to Nicky Nichols.

"Lorna Morello," he says, down on one knee in front of her, "will you marry me?"

It's perfect. They're in the post office where they had first met, only now it's all decked out in streamers and balloons and ribbons. Lorna would bet that all her friends and family are here, hiding behind the empty boxes and the front counter, just waiting to jump out and yell "surprise!" when Lorna inevitably accepts the proposal.

A smile spreads wide across her face. She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear; she has to look perfect for the engagement photographer she's sure is crouched somewhere in a corner of the room, capturing every second of their perfect moment.

"Yes!" she says ecstatically.

But then his face is changing. The counter becomes a podium; the ceiling grows and grows until it's far above her head, and the walls morph from industrial grey into the jarring warmth of burnished wood. Lorna's cute sundress transforms before her eyes into a little black number with chains all on it, just like she'd worn that day at the hearing.

"I wasn't interested in pursuing things further," Christopher says, and every word feels like a punch to the gut.

Lorna's smile is pasted-on now; her lips quiver at the edges, but still she can't wrap her mind around it. She wants to run to him, to throw her arms around him and—what? To kiss him? Or to wrap her little hands around that perfect neck and strangle him until he's lying cold on the floor?

She doesn't know which she wants more. Lorna trembles in her seat and watches his lips move until she can't take it anymore. She jumps from her chair and runs across the carpeted floor and throws her body at him over the podium, hands reaching out for him until Christopher's face contorts into a twisted snarl and it's his hands around her throat, and now she's wearing a white wedding dress and it's her veil he's pushing into her mouth and she gags and tries to cry out but she can't breathe, she can't breathe, she can't—

Lorna woke up with tears on her cheeks, unable to stop the little whimpers that came out of her mouth as the world came into focus around her. This was still a dream; it must be, because she was in prison, and that was wrong—she shouldn't be here, should she? All that with Christopher… that was just a bad dream, wasn't it?

She squeezed her eyes shut tight and pretended she was back in her old bedroom, with the soft, shiny bedspread and her cute clothes hanging across every surface and all the magazine cut-outs up on the wall. That blonde-haired, blue-eyed magazine man stared down at her from above her desk, face looming closer and closer until Lorna had to open her eyes again. Even prison seemed better than that leering face.

Her body shook with sobs; she tried to quiet herself, wondering what time it must be. She wished morning would come fast. Lorna knew she wouldn't be sleeping again that night.

A shadowy shape moved near the entrance to her cube, and Lorna started, curling in on herself and hoping to god that whoever it was hadn't realized she was awake. Her sobs died in her throat, stillborn with terror.

"Lorna?" It was Nicky's hushed voice; Lorna's tight muscles instantly relaxed just a bit at the familiarity of the sound. "You okay?"

She nodded her head, then realized Nicky couldn't see her in the darkness. "I'm… I'm fine."

"You don't sound so good to me." The dark shape crossed the cube, and then Nicky was there beside her, lifting the blanket and slipping into the bunk next to Lorna. Her body heat was immediately comforting; Lorna was ashamed of how fast her arms went around Nicky's waist, pulling the other woman in close.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Who said anything about talking?" Nicky's tone was suggestive, and Lorna couldn't help but let out a choked little giggle. "There are other ways to pass the time."

"Oh, really?" Lorna asked, playing dumb. "Like what?"

"C'mon, Morello, you know exactly what." Nicky dropped her voice low, leaning in close to whisper in Lorna's ear. "Or did you forget yesterday afternoon in the showers?"

"I dunno," Lorna breathed, a shiver tingling down her spine, "maybe you could remind me."

"Yeah? Well, maybe I will." She followed her words with an open-mouthed kiss to the side of Lorna's neck. "But you have to promise me one thing."

"What?"

"You're gonna have to be very, very quiet. Can you do that?"

Lorna wasn't sure if she could, but she nodded anyway. This was what she needed—any distraction from her dreams was a welcome one. Besides, this little ritual with Nicky, however guilty it made her feel, was always a comfort.

For once, Lorna found herself thanking the heavens for Boo's capacity to snore like a freight train (and to sleep about as heavily as one, too). She tried to keep her breathing steady, lying there on her side with her arms still looped around Nicky's waist. It was an awkward position, but Nicky had managed to maneuver a hand up under Lorna's nightie, which was now bunched around her hips. Her fingers were trailing slow circles across the sensitive skin of Lorna's stomach, and when her hand skimmed up Lorna's side, Lorna let out a little snort.

"That tickles!"

Nicky moved her hand further up. "And how about this?"

Lorna had to bite her lip as Nicky's hand landed on her breast, cupping gently at first before palming her roughly in a way that made Lorna gasp. Her head spun; she hoped Nicky's question was rhetorical, because even this small amount of skin-on-skin contact was enough to rob Lorna of the power of speech.

"That's what I thought." Nicky chuckled, somehow managing to make her voice low and seductive even in a whisper. "Just lay back, baby. I'm gonna make you forget whatever's on your mind."

Lorna swallowed hard, small hands clutching Nicky's waist and pulling her in closer. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back as Nicky planted long, warm kisses on her exposed throat. It wasn't long before she found herself breathing hard; she had to bite her lip to keep herself from whimpering as Nicky's capable hands worked their way lower.

The curly-haired woman was taking her time, running her hands all the way up Lorna's sides and then down over her thighs. From the way she was breathing, Lorna could tell she was getting worked up, too. Suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss her, Lorna tilted her head down, releasing her grip on Nicky's hips in favor of grabbing a handful of that wild hair.

Lorna's breathless moan was stifled by the meeting of their lips, the welcome taste of Nicky invading her mouth as their tongues caressed one another. Nicky bit Lorna's bottom lip; Lorna responded by pulling away and then crashing back into her with only the slightest whimper of anticipation escaping into the air between them. It was messy, passionate, completely unchoreographed and yet somehow graceful. In the depths of her dazed mind, Lorna had the unbidden thought that kissing someone had never felt so effortless.

She gasped into Nicky's mouth when she felt the other woman's fingers enter her at last. Eyes closed, she couldn't help the soft moan that slipped past her lips as the pad of Nicky's thumb ghosted over her clit.

"Quiet," Nicky warned with a wolfish grin, and Lorna had to bite her lip as she nodded, sure that anything she said in response would only trail off into a sound of pleasure.

"Fuck," she breathed, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of Nicky's neck. It was taking every ounce of her concentration to keep herself even this quiet. "God. Oh my goddd, Nicky…"

"No need to call me god, baby." There was a mischievous light to Nicky's eyes. "Though… I certainly ain't complaining."

Even in the state she was in, Lorna still had enough control to let out a little snort of laughter. "Don't ya go gettin' too cocky, Nichols, or else I'll have to let Boo give it a spin."

"You would never," Nicky purred, something in her eyes darkening possessively. "You don't really think she could do this, do you?"

A twist of Nicky's fingers inside her, another confident circle around her clit, and Lorna couldn't help the keening noise that left her lips. It was quickly swallowed up by the softness of Nicky's lips against hers, but if Nicky had intended that gesture to silence her, she was sorely mistaken. The sensation of the kiss only ignited Lorna's desire further, her hips rising off the bed in a futile effort to bury Nicky's fingers even deeper inside.

"I'm gonna make you come so hard," Nicky was mumbling against her lips, "harder than anyone has ever made you come before. You want that?"

Lorna nodded, the motion jostling their mouths together. Nicky took the opportunity to slip her tongue into Lorna's mouth, stealing her breath entirely. The kiss became arrhythmic, disjointed as Lorna's pleasure built higher and higher and higher until—

Nicky stilled her fingers. Lorna's thighs trembled, hips bucking up, but Nicky kept her there on the edge with one last teasing swipe of her thumb over her clit.

"Nicky, I'm so close, oh, fuck, please…"

"Shh." The light in Nicky's eyes burned brighter than ever. Her tone was commanding, but underneath it simmered the same feverish need that tingled through every one of Lorna's nerves. "Could Boo make you feel like this, huh? Tell me she could."

It was a challenge, but Lorna didn't have it in her to fight. "No, no, only you, you're the only one, Nicky, please, please, please."

She was instantly rewarded with the rhythm of Nicky's fingers resuming their motions, perfectly in tune to the rolling of her hips. Almost immediately Lorna found herself back at the edge. One more stroke of Nicky's fingers and she would be there; her head swam just anticipating it. But Nicky wasn't done.

"Could Christopher make you feel this good, Lorna?"

No. No, he couldn't. Even in all the times Lorna had fantasized about him, nothing her imagination had conjured up had ever come close to the way Nicky was making her feel.

Nicky didn't wait for her response this time; Lorna could tell that despite all the talk, Nicky was just as turned on as she was. Neither of them wanted to hold back.

"Come on, Lorna," Nicky murmured, the quiver in her voice betraying her own desire. "Come for me, baby. Tell me I'm the best you've ever had. Yeah, that's it, that's it, come for me…"

Nicky's words faded into background noise as climax hit Lorna with the force of a hurricane. Everything was wrapped up in sensation—she felt acutely the warmth of Nicky's body, the tension of her fingers, the softness of her breath. Lorna let the pleasure course through her without thinking, not even trying to be quiet anymore.

"Oh, fuck, Nicky, I love you—" she said, and then her whole body tensed up because what the fuck had she just said? She hadn't meant it. She hoped Nicky knew she didn't mean it, it was only that it was so hard to think with Nicky's hands on her and goddd—she had to stop thinking again because Nicky's fingers were still moving inside her, and it wasn't over yet. Her legs were shaking harder than she'd thought possible, her entire body rippling with the aftershocks as she clenched and unclenched around Nicky's fingers in an ecstasy so intense it bordered on painful.

Nicky had to shove the thin prison-issued blanket from the bunk into Lorna's mouth to muffle the ungodly sounds making their way past her lips, and for a brief panicked moment all Lorna could think was that they were gonna get caught for sure. But the fear was gone in the very next moment because no matter what happened, this was all so, so worth it.

When she opened her eyes, Nicky was looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite read. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but Lorna couldn't let her finish the thought, scared she was about to mention what Lorna had just said.

So Lorna brought Nicky's mouth to her own with more force than was strictly necessary, causing them both to wince. At the same time, she slipped her hand down into Nicky's pants, feeling how wet she was. But instead of leaning into the kiss, Nicky pulled back, grabbing Lorna's wrist.

"Whoa there, tiger. I can take care of myself."

"I know that," Lorna said, using her free hand to remove Nicky's hand from around her wrist.

"Then why—"

"Shhh." Lorna placed a finger over Nicky's lips, finding herself entranced by the little smears of mascara under the other woman's eyes, the slightly chapped texture of her lips. Nicky stared back at her with those ever-blinking eyes, quiet at last.

It was clear that she was already close from how wet she was, which gave Lorna a sort of thrill. She'd barely touched Nicky, and yet Nicky was already breathing hard, letting out breathy moans and whimpers as Lorna moved her fingers. She was much quieter than Lorna, but that didn't matter; after how many times they'd done this together, Lorna could read her body language like an open book.

She could understand why Nicky liked this. It was a powerful feeling, knowing that you were the reason for someone's pleasure. Watching the way Nicky bit her lip, the way her eyes fluttered closed, feeling the sharp tug as one of her hands wound its way through Lorna's hair, Lorna felt a strange sense of pride. She would never be like Nicky—this would never be enough to get her all the way there—but there was something almost holy in it. Lorna was always struck with the urge to run her hands over every inch of bare skin she could find, to worship Nicky's body like she'd never seen anything so beautiful.

It was in these moments that Lorna knew that they'd gone somewhere they could never come back from. It wasn't love—she couldn't bring herself to say that it was—but it was something. If she'd just let Nicky pleasure her without reciprocating… or if she'd only reciprocated because she'd felt obligated to return the favor… well, maybe then it wouldn't have felt like a lie to say she only liked pink in prison.

But she knew that she enjoyed this part, too. Lorna loved how Nicky mumbled her name under her breath, the noises she made just before she fell over the edge, Nicky's warm heat around her fingers, the way the movement of her hips drew Lorna in deeper. She loved the swell of satisfaction in her own chest when she moved her fingers in just the right way and Nicky found her release under Lorna's hands.

It had never been like this with any guy. Men were easy; a few strokes of Lorna's hand, a swirl of her tongue, and they came apart. It hadn't been unpleasant, but pleasuring them had never felt like a victory to her. And it did feel that way with Nicky, every time, ever since Nicky had first let Lorna touch her behind the pulpit in the chapel. Somehow it never managed to get old.

This time was no different. Nicky was the one struggling to be quiet now (although she was doing a much better job of it than Lorna had). Lorna could hear her swearing in a low voice, in between the breaths and moans when she moved her fingers just the way Nicky liked. And then she was there. Lorna could feel Nicky tighten around her fingers, and then—

"Jesus, Lorna. Lorna, Lorna, Lorna, ohhhh…"

Lorna didn't have the same swagger or propensity for dirty talk as Nicky. She didn't feel the need to urge Nicky to say her name or to let her know how good she was making her feel, but that didn't mean it didn't make her happy to hear Nicky say it. She pressed an affectionate kiss to Nicky's forehead, feeling such a wave of fondness rush over her that she had to take a deep breath to steady herself before she rolled herself out of her position half on top of Nicky.

Scooting backwards toward the wall, she made room for Nicky to lay comfortably beside her in the tiny bunk. There wasn't much space; their limbs were still comfortably intertwined, bodies pressed up against each other to avoid falling off. Nicky's hand was stroking along Lorna's cheek and down her neck, drawing circles just above her collarbones before returning to brush over her jawline.

Nicky gave her a peck on the lips. "You didn't have to… I would've been fine without—"

"I know."

"Then—about what you said earlier—"

Lorna's stomach twisted. "It was nothing. I mean, that'd be silly, wouldn't it?" She laughed softly; it sounded fake even to her own ears. "I mean, I'm still with Christopher, ya know? I love him."

"Yeah. Right."

"You should really take it as a compliment," she said. "You're not bad with your hands, Nichols."

"Not bad?" Nicky snorted. "C'mon, Morello, ya gotta give me a little more credit than that."

"Fine, baby, you're pretty great," Lorna murmured, suddenly tired. Shifting to cuddle even closer to Nicky, she nestled her head under the other woman's chin against her chest. "Will you stay?"

"Just for a little while."

"Thank you."

"Anytime, kid."

Lorna could feel her eyelids growing heavy. Briefly, her dream of Christopher slipped back into her mind; she shivered, and then Nicky drew her in closer, tracing shapes over Lorna's back. Lorna recognized some of them as letters, like the game she'd used to play with Francine when they were younger. They'd used to write words on each other's back and then make the other guess what they'd meant, everything from song lyrics to nursery rhymes to insults.

Here, Lorna felt, and ok. There were other fragments of words she didn't quite catch, and she didn't bother to ask Nicky to explain. She just let herself relax into the touch, letting the motions soothe her.

Just before she drifted off into sleep, she swore she felt Nicky write: I love you, too.