The banging and shouts echoed throughout the stone and metal prison, signalling lock-up for the night. Accustomed to the routine, Nikki blithely stripped down and tossed a thin strapped nightgown over her head, then walked over to the sink to brush her teeth. She didn't once look over at Olivia, in hopes the American would simply see it as a routine and not over-think her first night in Larkhall. It must have worked to some degree, because it only took a few minutes before Benson turned her back slightly and stripped down to her panties, before covering up again with a T-shirt and cotton shorts. It was only when she tore her eyes away from the lithe body of her new cellmate that Nikki realized toothpaste had dropped from her open mouth to the front of her nightgown.
"Shit," she muttered.
Olivia turned. "What?"
"Nothing," Nikki smiled. She wiped away the paste and rinsed her mouth. Stepping back, she motioned to the sink. "All yours," she stated, mentally chastising herself for the clumsy segue.
If Benson found it clumsy, she didn't say, as she made her way to the sink. Wade fiddled with some of the items on the small dresser before turning back to the newcomer. Figuring it was best to face the awkwardness head on rather than ignoring it, Nikki tried a different tack.
"The first night's always the hardest," she said.
Olivia didn't turn her head as she brushed her teeth, but nodded in reply.
"Sometimes it's… it's the noise that gets to you," Nikki continued, frowning. "There's never a real silence in this place. Some people find that unsettling."
Wiping her mouth, Olivia faced her cellmate and, in an attempt to defuse the hollowness that had developed in her stomach, she showed a wan smile and replied, "I think I'm more worried about falling off the top bunk."
Nikki recognized the remark for what it was, and returned the smile with more sincerity. "Ah, it's only a five foot drop to a concrete floor. I've heard you New Yorkers are a tough lot."
Olivia couldn't help but chuckle. "I notice you didn't offer to take the top bunk."
"Not bloody likely!" she feigned her offence. Slyly, she added, "But you can share the bottom with me if you like." When she saw Olivia's wide eyes and open mouth, the lifer backtracked. "Sorry, just a joke. I was out of line."
"No, no, it's okay," Benson said, her voice returning to her at last. "You're just… not what I expected."
"You mean lesbian?"
"No," she repeated with a smile, "English. I thought you were all polite and stiff-upper lip and all that. I'm going to have to re-think my entire perception of British people."
Nikki laughed, before becoming serious again. "Yeah, well, this place will make you re-think your perception of a lot of things. Look, I'm sure today was a hell of a shock to the system for you, but you made it through your first day and you didn't let it break you. I can't tell you how many don't have it in them to get past that first day. But you did it, and you've got to take your victories where you can get them in here. So, for what it's worth, congratulations. Now, if you don't mind," she smirked, "I was teacher, tour guide and translator all in one today and I'm beat." She crawled into the small bunk and pulled the thin blanket up to her shoulders. "If you fall, can you try and keep the noise down to a minimum?"
Now it was Olivia's turn to laugh. "You're all heart." Finding a foothold on the metal bed frame, she hoisted herself up to the top bunk, making sure she kept low enough to not hit her head on the ceiling. "God, I haven't been on the top bunk since I spent the summer with my cousins in Michigan when I was nine." She heard the snort of amusement from Nikki. Thinking about the inmate below, Olivia had to agree with Wade; the day turned out as well as she could have expected. And she was right - it was a shock to the system. What Olivia hadn't mentioned was the fact she hadn't factored in being celled up with a cop killer. She still struggled with that wrinkle, despite establishing what could be considered a trust with the woman. She wasn't the type to trust simply on faith, yet Wade had somehow managed to draw that out of her without even trying. There might come a time when Benson would take the time to examine that situation more closely, but for now, she was glad to have that one positive mark on the score sheet. And she had established contact with Michelle Dockley, albeit not how she imagined, either. Two relatively good things in a day most people would consider the worst of their lives. With any luck, the next few days would be just as smooth.
--
She tasted the warm metallic tinge of blood in her mouth and the cold concrete floor against her forehead, as she curled up in the fetal position and tried to protect herself from the kick she knew was coming. Sure enough, a large boot found its way between her arms and her knees, connecting soundly with her ribs.
"Now listen closely," whispered the menacing voice of Jim Fenner, low, into her ear. "A little birdie told me you've been trying to run a little show behind my back. Now, you're new and I've taken that into consideration. So consider this a generous warning - nothing goes on in here without going through me first. Whatever business you think you're running is my business. Is that perfectly clear, my American beauty?"
Olivia could only nod her head weakly and breathe out an affirmative answer between clenched teeth.
"Good. Now clean yourself up and we'll start fresh tomorrow, yeah?" He didn't even bother to wait for her answer.
As she lay there on the hard floor, the beat of her heart magnifying every bruise on her body, she wondered why she hadn't seen this coming.
--
On the third day of her time in Larkhall, Benson had approached Shell Dockley on the way to the communal bathrooms. Shoving her into one of the stalls, she sat the blonde down and got down to business.
"I thought we'd have a little talk."
Dockley looked nervous. "What about?"
"I need some stuff."
"What kind of -"
Benson grabbed her by the throat before the sentence was finished. "Don't play stupid, though I bet you play it well. I need some smack. An ounce to start."
"What?"
"Smack. Heroin. An ounce."
"You're mad," Shell scoffed. "That's almost 400 quid worth of drugs! I can't get that into a bleedin' prison!"
"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to get it for me. I've got someone on the outside who will take care of the rest."
"What?"
Olivia sighed. "God fucking help me." Looking the blonde right in the eye, she spoke slower. "I've got someone on the outside who will take care of the rest. I get a small sample, but the rest goes to him. I'm not interested in starting a drug trade in a fucking prison. I've got bigger things going on than that little brain of yours can comprehend. So, you contact your friend on the outside and you get him to agree to sell my friend some good stuff. They meet somewhere on the outside; I don't care where. And I get a small sample to keep you honest. It wouldn't look good if I was getting shit for a friend, would it?"
Shell shook her head as much as she could with Olivia's grip around her throat.
"Good." She reached into her back pocket and put a phone card into Dockley's hand. "You phone your dealer and when he's got the stuff, I give you a contact number for my friend. You pass it along. They meet and I get my shit. I don't care how you get it in, but I want it all set up by tomorrow before lock-up."
"Tomor -!"
The grip was squeezed tighter. "Tomorrow. You're a resourceful and persuasive girl. I have faith in you." Releasing the choke hold, Benson stepped back and said, "I'll leave you to think about it. You look like you could use the can."
--
She was halfway up the metal stairs when she heard a voice call out from behind her. Turning, she saw Yvonne's long strides catch up.
"Oi! Liv, you got a minute?"
"Yeah, sure."
When she made a motion to come down, Atkins ascended and shook her head. "Let's go upstairs, shall we? Too many bloody big ears around here."
Intrigued, Benson agreed and walked up to the Enhanced level. When it looked as if they were relatively alone, the cop asked, "What's this about?"
Yvonne's face turned hard and hawkish. "What are you playing at?"
"I don't under-"
"Shell Dockley," she hissed as she stepped into Benson's space. "I was in the bleedin' stall next door while you were setting up a deal with that bitch."
'Shit,' Benson thought. She hadn't checked the bathroom before pulling Dockley in. Out loud, she said, "It's not what you think."
Atkins would have none of it. "Look, I don't give a shit what it is. What I care about is Nikki Wade." Seeing Benson's brow raise, she snorted, "Not like that, Christ. But she's my best mate in this shit hole and that's saying something. You've got her respect and that's good enough for me, right? But if you mess that up or do anything to disappoint her, I won't take kindly to it. Am I making myself clear?"
She had been bullied, intimidated and threatened before - it was par for the course in her job as a cop - but there was something so deadly calm in Atkins manner that Benson knew this was no empty promise.
"Perfectly clear."
"Good." And just like that, Yvonne's face softened and they were friends again. "She likes you, Liv. Don't let her down."
The familiar face of Nikki came into view as the brunette climbed the stairs.
"Well, speak of the devil," Yvonne smiled as Nikki approached. "Were your ears burning?"
Nikki smiled in turn, then noticed the close proximity of the mob wife and Olivia. "You putting the moves on my cellmate, Yvonne?"
"Eh?" she replied, then realized where she was standing. Jumping back like a scalded cat, Atkins retorted, "Not bloody likely!"
"That's good to hear," Wade replied, her mouth twitching in amusement, "I would have been incredibly offended, after all the passes I've made in your direction."
"Sweetheart, if the only man left on the planet was Jim bastard Fenner and all the batteries had been used up, you know you'd be the first person I'd call."
"Gee, thanks Yvonne. I think."
When the laughter of the three women died down, Yvonne said, "I've got work to do; haven't met my daily quota of taking the piss out of Bodybag yet. I'll see you two ladies at tea."
As the older woman walked away and started down the steps, Nikki looked at Olivia. "So what was all that really about?"
Olivia tried to shrug it off. "Nothing." Seeing Nikki's steadfast gaze, she relented, though leaving out the most damning details. "I ran into Dockley in the bathroom." Nikki's eyes widened and Benson put her hand on Wade's arm to nip the lifer's worry in the bud. "It's okay. Nothing happened that I couldn't handle. We had a little talk and I reinforced what the ground rules were between us, just to make myself clear. Nothing happened," she repeated.
Nikki nodded. "What did Yvonne have to do with it?"
"She was in one of the stalls when things went down. She just wanted to make sure I was okay and advised me to just stay away from Dockley."
"It's good advice," the con agreed.
"So, what are you doing up here? I thought you had a class today."
"You my personal secretary, then?" She saw Olivia's innocent look and laughed. "I did have class today; you've just lost track of time. Some secretary you'd make." Lazily dangling her hands over the rail, Nikki looked down to the levels below. "Now I'm here to survey my fiefdom, of course."
Olivia copied the relaxed pose and leaned forward. "I heard you were top dog around here."
"Oh, yeah," Nikki replied, "just call me Donna Corleone." She shook her head in amusement and reached for her pack of smokes. "Be serious, would you?"
"I am," Benson said. "Get Nikki Wade's respect and you get the respect of the wing. This might only be my third day, but I know which side my bread's buttered on."
Lighting a cigarette, she blew the smoke away from Olivia before responding. "You've been talking to Yvonne too much. I forbid it from now on." The two women laughed, then Nikki said, "Besides, you might want to talk to Shell Dockley about this whole respect thing."
Olivia shrugged. "I suspect she doesn't have much respect for herself, so she'll never have respect for anyone else. And she's not the wing, is she?" She didn't miss the eye roll she got from Nikki. "Trust me. When I walk through the wing, I know the women respect me. I've only been here three days. It's because of you."
As was her nature, Nikki brushed away the compliment. "Yeah, well, I'm sure it has nothing to do with your fan club telling everyone you put it to Dockley."
"My fan club?"
Nikki turned to her and smiled. In unison, they said, "The two Julies."
"They're sweet. But maybe I should tell them the truth about why I'm in here."
"Let them have their fun," Nikki said, stubbing out her cigarette. "God knows there isn't much of it in this place."
The intercom crackled to life and dinner was announced. Olivia was the first to move. She got to the top of the stairs and noticed Nikki hadn't moved and was instead still watching the world below her. There was a sadness in her face that Olivia hadn't seen, and it made her feel equally sad. Thinking it best to not draw attention to the moment, she tried a lighter tact.
"Hey," she called out. Nikki raised her head and offered a wan smile. "Come on, Aretha."
Wade's brow furrowed and she tilted her head, though she followed Olivia's order. "Aretha?"
--
"Stabler."
"It's me."
"Liv?"
"You know any other women calling you from prison?"
The detective laughed. "Sorry, Larkhall Prison doesn't seem to come up on my call display. How are ya?"
"Good, except for the stuff they're passing off as food. It's worse than the damn hospital."
"I'll treat you to a hotdog and pretzel when you get back. Anything happening otherwise?"
Olivia looked around and lowered her voice, despite no one being within earshot. "Set up something this morning. Just waiting to hear back. Gave her until tomorrow to make arrangements."
Stabler sat forward in his chair. "Good work, Liv. Have you contacted DCI Williams?"
"No," she answered, "can you call him for me? I only have so much time on these phone cards. Besides, I'm still working on figuring out more than half of what people are saying in this country."
"Cor blimey!" Elliot quipped. "I know what you mean. Speaking of, how is your resident translator lately?"
"Very funny. She's fine. I'll tell her you asked. Listen, I gotta go. I just wanted to give you an update. Tell Williams I'll call him when I've got a drop-off set up."
"Will do, Liv. You're sure you're okay, though?"
"God," Benson groaned, "are you my partner or my brother?"
"Hey, I can be both. You're family. The kids would have my ass if anything happened to you."
She smiled. "Thanks, El. I'll call soon."
"Take it easy. 'Bye."
--
She had her head down as she approached her living arrangements for the next three weeks, and almost ran into another, smaller woman who was also going in that direction.
"Sorry," Benson apologized.
"No need," the shorter woman said. "You going to Nikki's cell?"
"Yeah."
Eyeing Olivia from head to toe and back again, the woman offered a small smile. "You're the American," she stated in an accent Olivia couldn't quite place.
"Yeah. Olivia Benson."
"Right, you're here for possession." She must have seen the puzzled look on Benson's face, because she laughed softly and gave an apology of her own. "Sorry, we've never met. I'm Helen Stewart. I'm the governing Governor." Benson's look changed from puzzled to one of amusement. "Yes, it's quite redundant." Stewart's eyes narrowed as she retrieved a piece of information from her memory banks. "Your solicitor is working on an appeal, isn't he?" When the taller woman nodded, Helen did as well. "Good. Keep at it. And if you need to meet with your solicitor, ask one of the guards to inform Ms. Betts or myself and we'll see that it gets done."
Benson smiled. She didn't know this woman from Adam, but she had a straight ahead quality about her that was infectious. "Yes, Miss," she couldn't help but reply.
"Good. After you?" Stewart tilted her head in the direction of the cell door.
"Hey, Nik," Benson said as she walked into the room.
Not even bothering to make the effort of peering over the top of her book, Wade groaned, "Must you call me that?"
Benson laughed. "I only do it because I know it bugs you."
"You're a right pain in my ass, you are."
"Which is the perfect place for me to come in," Helen quipped.
"Helen!" Nikki blurted and sat up straight, hitting her head on the bar of the bunk. "Shit!"
"Good to see you, too, Nikki."
The simple exchange between the two women made Olivia's ears perk up in interest. She didn't miss the fact that Nikki had called the woman by her first name. And now, having the chance to look at Stewart unaware, her natural cop instinct kicked in. About five foot four inches, 130 pounds, light brown near-shoulder length hair, and hazel green eyes. The woman couldn't have been more diametrically opposite to Nikki if she tried. On the surface, anyway. But that brief glimpse of her take-charge attitude she saw outside the cell was right in line with what she knew about Nikki's character. And if the looks they were giving each other were any indication, they had a lot more in common than Olivia would have suspected.
Thinking that three was a crowd, Benson casually grabbed Nikki's pack of cigarettes and said, "I'm just going to go out for a… fag?" She saw Nikki smile at her use of the British slang. "I'll be back later."
Nikki's smile fell quickly and she said, "No, stay."
Benson furrowed her brow. That wasn't what she had expected Nikki to say. But hearing the firmness in her voice and seeing the almost pleading look in her eyes, Benson silently agreed.
Helen glanced at Olivia, then back to Nikki. "It's about your appeal," she offered, her tone indicating it was confidential.
Nikki ignored Helen's silent request that they be given time alone and instead replied, "Whatever you have to say can be said in front of Liv. I trust her."
If Nikki's use of what Helen guessed to be a personal moniker stung her, the flinch was a brief and fleeting one. "Right," she began, "Claire has come back from holiday and has started working on your appeal in earnest. She's reviewing case law, but she's also doing extensive background information on Sgt. Gossard; something which wasn't done the first time round."
"Bloody bastard cops looking out for their own, I suppose," Nikki spit out.
Helen's expression neither confirmed nor denied Nikki's accusation. "Anyway, she may have come up with something, but it's early days yet. She wanted to tell you that as soon as she knows anything, good or bad, she'd let you know."
"Yeah, well, she knows where to find me, doesn't she?"
"Nikki." She reached forward to touch the lifer's shoulder until she realized they weren't the only ones in the room, and quickly pulled her hand back. "You've got to keep positive. There's no sense getting yourself down when there is a good chance there's no reason to."
Silence spread though the small cell and finally, Helen glanced over at Olivia as if asking for her help. The American slid a cigarette out of the pack and flicked a match to life. Drawing in a lungful of smoke, Benson said, "I'll tell you what, Nik." The other woman looked up at her and glowered. "I've got a hundred bucks that says you get out before I do."
Nikki shook her head, but couldn't stop the small lopsided grin from tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You'd better spot me ten years if you want to win. Besides, your Yankee imperialist money is of no value to me." She punctuated her sentence with a genuine smile which made the other two women do the same. "You're right, Helen," Nikki admitted, looking up at her. "No sense worrying about rain when it's clear skies, is it?"
"That's what I like to hear. I also hear you've got a big test at the end of the month."
"What? Oh, university. Yeah, it's supposed to give us an idea of what the final exam is like."
"You'll do great."
"Yeah, well, we'll see."
This time, Helen did reach out and touch Nikki's shoulder, albeit very briefly. "Let me know how it goes." She glanced over at Olivia again. "It was nice meeting you, Olivia. Remember what I said - if there's anything I can do to help you and your solicitor, don't hesitate to ask."
When Helen was gone and safely out of earshot, Benson handed the cigarette over to Nikki. "Those are awful!"
Nikki laughed and took it out of her fingers. "I was wondering what that was about."
"Thought I'd give myself something to do besides stare."
"What do you mean?"
Olivia pushed herself off the wall and slid into one of the hard chairs. Instead of answering the question, she looked around the room with a sly grin. "Well, that explains the books."
Rather than repeating her question, Nikki took a drag of her cigarette and muttered, "I don't know what you're talking about."
Olivia all but hooted her mirth at what amounted to a confession. "I bet you don't!"
"Bloody head inspector."
--
"Along the yard wall, to where it juts out, there's a bush there."
This information was passed along at the food counter, along with a large dollop of the daily mysterious nutritional concoction. Benson simply nodded at Dockley and moved on to the table that Nikki, Yvonne and Barbara already occupied. The meeting between Dockley's source and Benson's contact had gone down without a hitch. Information had been exchanged and a meeting had been arranged. Now it was only a matter of setting up something a bit larger.
After lunch, and under the pretence of getting some fresh air, Olivia took a stroll around the yard. From the steps of the prison, it was easy to see exactly where Dockley had stashed the sample Olivia had requested. Keeping it within her peripheral vision, Benson tucked her hands in the pockets of her jacket and lazily made her way around the yard. Stopping directly in front of the small tree Dockley had described, Olivia crouched down and, using the façade of tying up her shoe, glanced under the shrub. The corner of a hidden plastic bag poked out from a small pile of dirt, and, surreptitiously looking around, Olivia quickly reached under and tucked the bag into her sock. Standing up and taking another quick look around, she took a deep breath of satisfaction and relief and continued on her way.
As she reached the top of the steps, she bumped into Dominic.
"Sorry," she apologized, then realized who it was. "Oh, hello, Mr. McAllister."
"Hiya, Olivia," the young guard responded amiably. "How are you finding things?"
She tried not to react to the double-meaning the guard was unaware of making. Instead, she smiled and shrugged. "Not bad I guess, considering."
He nodded his understanding. "You taking in the sights of the Larkhall yard?"
"Hmmm? Oh, yeah. Thought I'd get some fresh air. It seems to be in short supply in there," she gestured inside. "Though I suppose I could say that about a lot of things."
"I suppose you could," he agreed.
"Anyway, nature calls, so…" she pointed towards the door.
"Go on, then."
Her heart was racing, but it was a good feeling. She always welcomed that rush of adrenaline a good job gave her. Slipping into the very same stall she had cornered Dockley in, she reached down into her sock and retrieved the bundle of plastic. The bag opened as she slid the plastic zipper across the top and she emptied the contents into the toilet before flushing it. When the bowl filled again, she tied the bag into a small knot and flushed it as well. She hadn't needed to check the quality of the drugs - if anything had been suspect about it, DCI Williams would have warned her. She had only given Shell the story of wanting a sample to keep her honest, and to manufacture an image. But she didn't need to be caught with the stuff, either. Satisfied it had all been washed away, she came out of the stall, rinsed her hands, and wondered what to do next.
--
Making sure her appearance on G3 had gone unnoticed, Benson slipped into the cell of Shell Dockley. The blonde's head snapped up from her beauty magazine and she frowned.
"Oi! Don't you gits knock in America?"
The cop let the insult go by and instead facetiously rapped on the inside of the door.
"Happy?"
"Thrilled to bleedin' death," Dockley grumbled. "What do you want now? I got your precious kit for ya, didn't I?"
"And that's what I'm here to talk about," Benson replied pleasantly. "The stuff you got me was good. More importantly, my partner liked it."
"Yeah, well," she huffed, "I should hope so. I went to a lot of trouble to get it."
Benson smiled humourlessly. "You would have had more trouble figuring out how to get up and down those stairs with two broken legs if you hadn't. You're not as dumb as you look, Shell."
Dockley looked pleased with herself until she realized what Benson had implied. "Oi!" she objected.
Waving her off, Olivia said, "I didn't come here to flirt with you. I want you to get me some more."
"What? Already?"
"The first job was just a sample test, Shell. But my partner and I are interested in the larger picture."
Benson could almost see the pieces falling into place for the blonde.
Her eyes widened and she breathed, "You mean America, don'tcha?"
"Wow, you really aren't as dumb as you look."
Dockley's face darkened. "You slag me off one more time and I'll cut your tits off and serve 'em as curry!"
Olivia bent forward, her face equally dark, her expression stony and hard. "And it will be the last thing you get to do with your hands."
The woman blanched. "So what is it this time, then?"
"A kilo."
"A kilo!" The volume of her startled exclamation made Dockley clamp her hand over her mouth. Slowly taking it away, she fiercely whispered, "Do you know how much that'll cost ya?" Chuckling as if she'd just seen Olivia grow another head, she said, "You've got a tear in your marble bag if you think I can get a kilo of smack in here."
"Shell," Benson shook her head, "You're gonna make me want to take back all the good things I said about you. To answer the first question, about 45 thousand pounds. As for the second bit…"
A small smirk spread across Shell's face. "I get it. Same as before. You get a sample, but it's your friend who gets the prize."
Benson pretended to be impressed. "Good girl."
"Yeah!" Shell narrowed her eyes. "What am I gettin' out of this, then?"
"Oh, I'm sure you'll get what you deserve, Shell." Seeing that this answer didn't appease the woman, Olivia shrugged. "Why don't we start with me giving you my portion, and we'll see about more later." Now it was Benson's turn to narrow her eyes. "Or have you already skimmed from my sample?"
The blonde laughed nervously. "Come on, Liv, what do I look like, eh?" Faced with Benson's unwavering stare, she admitted, "Okay, so maybe just a little taste is all. Nothing worth anything to anyone." She curled her legs up under her and tucked her hands under her thighs. "Just a little something between friends, right?"
Olivia glowered, but relented. "Not much I can do about it now, can I? Besides inflict bodily harm." Shell shrunk back on her bed. "But everyone deserves a second chance, I guess."
"You're all right, Liv," Dockley stammered.
"I don't give third chances, Shell." She held the door ajar and said, "I want to hear something arranged by Monday." She saw Dockley's look of amazement. "That gives you the whole weekend. I could break out of here and come back in that time." As a parting shot, she turned back and said, "And don't fucking call me Liv again."
--
