Disclaimer: All Bad Girls characters belong to Shed Productions, not me.
A/N: The words in the Asterisks come from Nikita, by Elton John. If I lived in an ideal world where Karen fell in love with Yvonne, these might be some of her thoughts.
The human heart a captive in the snow: A Karen/Yvonne songfic.
*With eyes that looked like ice on fire.*
Your eyes were the first thing I noticed about you, Yvonne. They seemed to have the ability to look deep in to the soul of any unsuspecting being. But I was always careful never to give you such open access. You have a way of pinning peple to the spot with that stare of yours. I'm told that it's this infamous look that won you most of your very shadey business deals. This doesn't surprise me in the slightest. In your eyes there is a hard, unbending glint of steal. But if a person takes the trouble to look behind that piercing glare, there rages a fiery passion that is the secret to your survival, and more than likely the reason why you ended up in my care in the first place. But whilst your eyes may serve to keep all unwanted company at a distance, they also capture the human interest like any brilliantly scripted book or wonder-inspired painting. You have only ever looked for lust-inflamed appraisals of men, but you never fail to cause women to take a second glance. For many this is because they envy you, they see in you everything they wish to see in themselves. But in others you ignite the spark of sexual attraction, the strike of the match which brings us all one day to completion. Nikki Wade wasn't the only woman to let her eyes wander over your immaculately dressed form as if she were looking at a plate of chocolate cake and strawberries. Having been as straight as a ruler for as long as I've been aware of the feelings hands can induce, it shocked me more than a little that I was also checking out what delights lay under your expensive clothes. But you do not wish to read of the lustful fantasies of a sex-starved novice in this world of being attracted to one's own gender.
*You'll never know, anything about my home.*
I've wondered for a long time now, if you'd learned of the true extent to Jim Fenner's evil streak, if you would tell me I should have known better. You never had the wool pulled over your eyes by him did you? You had his character down to a tee the minute you saw him. Never once did he make you feel secure, only to pull the rug out from under everything you believed. I envy you for that, and you'll probably never know how much. You scorned me when you discovered I was seeing him, didn't you. I can hardly blame you for that. Be assured that you weren't the only one to ridicule my actions, to warn me of what was to come. I should have listened. I wonder if it would surprise you to know that Jim Fenner raped me. I wonder what you would think to know that I had such a lack of control over something that happened to me. Would you say it is what I deserved for being so blind? Or would you say that it wasn't my fault. I'm not altogether sure. Would you despise me for allowing Jim Fenner to hold and to kiss me when I didn't want what came next. Heaven knows I despise myself enough for my actions of that day, but it would be ten times harder to take the scathing jibes that you pour on to every living thing you cannot abide.
*Do you ever dream of me?
Do you ever see the letters that I write.*
I would be most astounded if the answer to either of these questions is yes. You have never seen me as anything more than the screw who has the power to give you weeks in segregation, or days of lost remition, or to remove your status as an enhanced prisoner. Therefore, I would seriously doubt that you ever dream of me. Not that I wouldn't like you too. I would like nothing more than for you to see beyond the power suits and the jangling keys. but as for reading the many letters I write to you but never send, if you did, you'd probably apply for a transfer to another wing. I'm certain you'll never read this one. You'll never know how much time I dwell on the many fascets of your character. I watch your actions carefully, so that I might get to know every side of you, at least from a distance. I've seen the scorn you pour on Shell, the maternal affection you bestow on Denny, your tolerance of the Julies and your friendship with Nikki and Barbara. What surprised me most was the brief look of fear I see in your eyes whenever you look at Maxi Purvis. I don't know what happened there, but clearly something did to make you avoid any contact with her. I wonder if you would ever look at me with such an analytical approach. I highly doubt it. But what would you find if you did. I would be greatly interested to read a similar account of my character written in your hand.
*I'll never know how good it feels to hold you.*
You have no idea, do you? No idea of how I crave your touch, your smile. I would give anything to be held, safe for ever in those strong arms, to be loved in the way I believe you once loved your husband. I could survive through an entire week with one smile from you. Like Nikki once did with Helen, I would look out for your lingering appraisal, as a ship keeps watch for the anchoring beam of the lighthouse. But this is not to be. No matter how much I wil your glance to drift my way, it almost never will.
*and if there comes a time,
when guns and gates no longer hold you in,
and if you're free to make a choice,
just look towards the west and find a friend.*
You don't have all that long left to go now, Yvonne. Your sentence is nearly up. I suspect that when you walk out of those gates, the last thing you'll ever think of is me. You will be trying to rebuild your life, as is only right. I hope that you will do your best not to end up back in a place like this. You deserve so much more, Yvonne, more than I would ever be able to give you. But if, once you've passed through those gates and are on the other side of the wire for ever, if you ever find yourself in need of a friend, someone to take you out of the despair that life throws at all of us from time to time, you need do no more than look my way. I would always be willing to listen to you and to give you what solace I could. But most of all, I wish you every happiness in whatever life you choose is right for you. Some of my fondest thoughts will go with you when you leave my watchful gaze. Just know that my human heart will always be a captive in the hope that you will, just once, look my way and give me a smile.
A/N: The words in the Asterisks come from Nikita, by Elton John. If I lived in an ideal world where Karen fell in love with Yvonne, these might be some of her thoughts.
The human heart a captive in the snow: A Karen/Yvonne songfic.
*With eyes that looked like ice on fire.*
Your eyes were the first thing I noticed about you, Yvonne. They seemed to have the ability to look deep in to the soul of any unsuspecting being. But I was always careful never to give you such open access. You have a way of pinning peple to the spot with that stare of yours. I'm told that it's this infamous look that won you most of your very shadey business deals. This doesn't surprise me in the slightest. In your eyes there is a hard, unbending glint of steal. But if a person takes the trouble to look behind that piercing glare, there rages a fiery passion that is the secret to your survival, and more than likely the reason why you ended up in my care in the first place. But whilst your eyes may serve to keep all unwanted company at a distance, they also capture the human interest like any brilliantly scripted book or wonder-inspired painting. You have only ever looked for lust-inflamed appraisals of men, but you never fail to cause women to take a second glance. For many this is because they envy you, they see in you everything they wish to see in themselves. But in others you ignite the spark of sexual attraction, the strike of the match which brings us all one day to completion. Nikki Wade wasn't the only woman to let her eyes wander over your immaculately dressed form as if she were looking at a plate of chocolate cake and strawberries. Having been as straight as a ruler for as long as I've been aware of the feelings hands can induce, it shocked me more than a little that I was also checking out what delights lay under your expensive clothes. But you do not wish to read of the lustful fantasies of a sex-starved novice in this world of being attracted to one's own gender.
*You'll never know, anything about my home.*
I've wondered for a long time now, if you'd learned of the true extent to Jim Fenner's evil streak, if you would tell me I should have known better. You never had the wool pulled over your eyes by him did you? You had his character down to a tee the minute you saw him. Never once did he make you feel secure, only to pull the rug out from under everything you believed. I envy you for that, and you'll probably never know how much. You scorned me when you discovered I was seeing him, didn't you. I can hardly blame you for that. Be assured that you weren't the only one to ridicule my actions, to warn me of what was to come. I should have listened. I wonder if it would surprise you to know that Jim Fenner raped me. I wonder what you would think to know that I had such a lack of control over something that happened to me. Would you say it is what I deserved for being so blind? Or would you say that it wasn't my fault. I'm not altogether sure. Would you despise me for allowing Jim Fenner to hold and to kiss me when I didn't want what came next. Heaven knows I despise myself enough for my actions of that day, but it would be ten times harder to take the scathing jibes that you pour on to every living thing you cannot abide.
*Do you ever dream of me?
Do you ever see the letters that I write.*
I would be most astounded if the answer to either of these questions is yes. You have never seen me as anything more than the screw who has the power to give you weeks in segregation, or days of lost remition, or to remove your status as an enhanced prisoner. Therefore, I would seriously doubt that you ever dream of me. Not that I wouldn't like you too. I would like nothing more than for you to see beyond the power suits and the jangling keys. but as for reading the many letters I write to you but never send, if you did, you'd probably apply for a transfer to another wing. I'm certain you'll never read this one. You'll never know how much time I dwell on the many fascets of your character. I watch your actions carefully, so that I might get to know every side of you, at least from a distance. I've seen the scorn you pour on Shell, the maternal affection you bestow on Denny, your tolerance of the Julies and your friendship with Nikki and Barbara. What surprised me most was the brief look of fear I see in your eyes whenever you look at Maxi Purvis. I don't know what happened there, but clearly something did to make you avoid any contact with her. I wonder if you would ever look at me with such an analytical approach. I highly doubt it. But what would you find if you did. I would be greatly interested to read a similar account of my character written in your hand.
*I'll never know how good it feels to hold you.*
You have no idea, do you? No idea of how I crave your touch, your smile. I would give anything to be held, safe for ever in those strong arms, to be loved in the way I believe you once loved your husband. I could survive through an entire week with one smile from you. Like Nikki once did with Helen, I would look out for your lingering appraisal, as a ship keeps watch for the anchoring beam of the lighthouse. But this is not to be. No matter how much I wil your glance to drift my way, it almost never will.
*and if there comes a time,
when guns and gates no longer hold you in,
and if you're free to make a choice,
just look towards the west and find a friend.*
You don't have all that long left to go now, Yvonne. Your sentence is nearly up. I suspect that when you walk out of those gates, the last thing you'll ever think of is me. You will be trying to rebuild your life, as is only right. I hope that you will do your best not to end up back in a place like this. You deserve so much more, Yvonne, more than I would ever be able to give you. But if, once you've passed through those gates and are on the other side of the wire for ever, if you ever find yourself in need of a friend, someone to take you out of the despair that life throws at all of us from time to time, you need do no more than look my way. I would always be willing to listen to you and to give you what solace I could. But most of all, I wish you every happiness in whatever life you choose is right for you. Some of my fondest thoughts will go with you when you leave my watchful gaze. Just know that my human heart will always be a captive in the hope that you will, just once, look my way and give me a smile.