The Kiss (Pt 2)
Bridget hurried away from the library, away from Franky's penetrating eyes and hungry lips. She walked shakily down the corridor. Her skin was flushed and there was a knot in her stomach, she felt as if everyone she passed knew her secret.
When she reached her office Bridget locked the door and pulled the blinds. She poured herself a glass of water and gulped greedily, trying to steady her nerves. She sat in the dark, head pounding as her mind tried to catch-up with the clusterfuck of a morning she'd had.
Clusterfuck. She almost smiled. Franky had taught her that word. Franky had taught her so many things.
How had she let this happen? Kissing a prisoner. It was a serious fucking misdemeanour! Was she out of her mind? Of course she was; Franky was driving her insane. Battering her defences, igniting her desires, making her forget protocol and misjudge situations and second-guess herself...
The kiss had been so startling and tender and passionate… and left Bridget wanting more. But that kiss had also started a shit storm; because now Bridget knew for certain what she'd only suspected: she had feelings for Franky. Feelings she could no longer deny or excuse or dismiss. Now she would have to deal with them; Bridget had never run from anything in her life and she wasn't about to start now.
In her long career, Bridget had never developed romantic feelings for a patient. Several patients had formed crushes on her – but it had never been reciprocated. Never. Until Franky.
Until Franky seemed to be her mantra these days.
Franky Doyle: infuriating, fascinating, beautiful and impulsive.
When Franky had kissed her, Bridget had felt relieved. Glad the tension had been broken and their attraction acknowledged. But kissing in the library was reckless behaviour; they could have been discovered.
"Stupid… stupid," Bridget chided herself aloud.
She covered her face with her hands. She had to think this through, had to strategize… had to figure a way to make it work.
After lunch Franky was in the exercise yard playing basketball, still contemplating that kiss, when Bridget passed by the fence on her way to a staff meeting. The blonde was in a world of her own, oblivious to the outside world.
Franky watched the psychologist walk past, her hips swaying and those tight, tight jeans hugging Bridget's perfectly sculpted backside.
Distracted, Franky didn't hear Sophie call out to her or see the ball as it lunged towards her head.
Her eyes were still on Bridget when the ball smacked her in the face. Her head snapped back on impact. Dazed, Franky reached up to touch her nose and looked down to see blood in her hand.
"Shit! Sorry!" Sophie apologised as she ran towards Franky.
Doyle heard laughter and turned to see Boomer standing by the benches, pissing herself laughing. Still stunned, Franky managed to stick her middle finger up at her former friend as Sophie gripped her arm and guided her towards Miss Bennett, who was on guard duty and had seen the whole thing.
Vinegar Tits let Franky go to the infirmary without argument.
Franky sat on the examination table, blood speckled her white vest and she had tissue up her nose to stop the bleeding.
Doctor Curtis examined her injury. "Well, the good news is it's not broken."
"Ripper," Franky replied flatly. The numbness began to subside and the pain started to creep in.
Doctor Curtis tipped her chin up and flashed a torch in her eyes, making sure she didn't have concussion. Her ears were ringing and her nose was throbbing.
"How's your vision? Seeing double? Blurry?"
"It's fine."
"Good."
He handed her paracetamol for the pain and a cup of water. Franky swallowed the pills gratefully.
There was an urgent knock at the door.
"I'm with a patient," Curtis called out.
"I know, can I come in?" It was Bridget's voice. She sounded strange.
Franky's heart soared at the prospect of being in close proximity to Gidget.
"If you don't mind waitin - " Curtis began.
Bridget rushed into the room and closed the door behind her.
Startled by this unexpected intrusion, Doctor Curtis turned towards her. "What are you - ?"
"I heard there was an incident in the yard and Doyle had been hurt…" Bridget's eyes instinctively drifted towards Franky over the doctor's shoulders, visibly calming when she saw that Franky was alright.
"As you can see she's fine," he placated.
"It's just… we had a group therapy session earlier and I wanted to make sure that violence hadn't escalated out of that. Can I talk to her?"
Curtis nodded. "Sure," and he sat down at his desk to fill in Doyle's injury report. His back turned to them.
Bridget moved in front of the inmate and when she was sure that Curtis wasn't watching, her hand lightly brushed Franky's knee. "You okay?" she asked.
Franky grinned. It would've been worth a broken nose just to see the anxious look on Bridget's face. She was worried: she cared. Franky's smile widened.
"Yep. Might need a few extra sleeps to restore my natural beauty, but I'm good."
Even with tissue stuffed up her nose and a large purple bruise forming under both eyes where the ball had struck her, Bridget still had the urge to ravish the brunette.
"I thought you were hurt… like, really hurt."
Franky shrugged. "It was an accident. I wasn't paying attention. A certain someone sauntered past the yard and their hotness distracted me."
Bridget tilted her head sideways and lowered her voice. "You've got to take better care of yourself - for my sake if not your own. I don't want to spend my time breaking-up fights and wheeling you out of hospitals. That's not the life I want."
Franky slipped her hand into Bridget's and squeezed. "Me either," she whispered.
The feel of Franky's fingers wrapped around her hand, soft but insistent; Franky's thumb gently stroking the back of her hand, made everything seem possible.
Heat rose in her skin at the contact. Bridget stepped back and Franky's hand fell away.
"I have a free session tomorrow, if you want it? To discuss… everything."
For Curtis's benefit Franky shrugged and replied casually. "Why not? Got nothin' better to do."
"2 O'clock," Bridget said, then turned and headed for the door. "Thanks," she called to Doctor Curtis, who looked up from his notes and nodded back.
As Bridget opened the door she glanced at Franky one last time to find the brunette staring intently at her. She felt jittery… wondering what in hell she was going to say to Franky tomorrow when they were alone.
She stepped into the hall, closing the door behind her. Feeling like this mess had only just begun.