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Steady On

G.L. Dartt

 

The soft sound of the front door being unlocked woke her up. Perhaps it shouldn’t have after so many weeks, but the turning of the key still drew her from sleep like a siren’s call. Smiling faintly, she rolled over in the warm nest of blankets so that she was facing the empty part of the bed, closing her eyes as she arranged herself comfortably on the sheets.

Out in the foyer, shoes were carefully removed and stocking covered footsteps padded up the small flight of stairs and across the wooden flooring of the living room, whisper quiet, but still audible to someone who was listening closely. Crossing the hall into the bedroom, the presence paused, and for a moment, there was the rustle of clothing as it was removed, undoubtedly dropped on the chair in the corner. Moving around the foot of the bed to the side closest to the wall, the visitor carefully put down some objects on the bedside table, tiny clicks indicating a watch, a wallet and the metallic clink of keys. Drawing back the covers, a lanky body slipped between the sheets, the mattress dipping lightly as the weight settled against it.

“Hiya, Nikki.” The gentle whisper in the night was flavored liberally by a distinctive Scottish accent.

Nikki started, and then laughed softly. “Christ, I don’t know why I bother trying to be quiet. You’re always awake when I come in.” She reached out an arm and slid it around the shoulders of the woman who’d been lying in bed, drawing her close.

Sighing happily, Helen snuggled against the length of her lover, welcoming her home…though, of course, Nikki didn’t quite consider it home. Not yet, at least. For her, she was just ‘staying over’; traveling to South London from the nightclub she owned and the flat she lived in overhead. She couldn’t do it on the weekends, where managing Chix on Friday and Saturday kept her at the club until four or five in the morning. But through the week, when closing only took an hour and she could leave by one, she made the occasional drive down to Helen’s flat to spend the rest of the night with her.

Burrowing into the warm hollow of Nikki’s neck and shoulder, Helen inhaled her scent. Nikki must have stopped by her flat to shower and change before coming over since the thick odor of cigarette smoke and liquor was no longer present, for which Helen was suitably grateful. Kissing her soft throat lovingly, Helen nibbled gently along the pulse point, delighting in the smooth skin.

Nikki quivered at the touch and made a small groan, midway between regret and delight. “You have to be up at six, darling.”

Helen didn’t need the reminder, extremely conscious of the fact that their jobs prevented them from seeing each other as much as they would like and hating it thoroughly. But she hadn’t seen Nikki since Monday morning, and she certainly wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.

It was ironic in a way. For the first three years of their relationship, they could see each other frequently. They just weren’t allowed to touch. Helen Stewart had worked in the correctional system as a wing governor for HMP Larkhall, a women’s prison in south London. Nikki Wade had been incarcerated for murdering a police officer who had been trying to rape her girlfriend. Despite the fact it broke all the rules, not to mention shattering Helen’s fond misassumption of heterosexuality, the two women fell in love. A great many trials and tribulations tested their commitment to each other, but in the end, Nikki was freed on an appeal that reduced her sentence to manslaughter with time served. Finally, they could be together.

Helen kissed a line along Nikki’s jaw before seeking out her lips and sinking into a passionate, open-mouthed kiss that sent desire raging through her. Drawing her hand up from Nikki’s belly, she cupped the small breast, feeling the nipple harden sweetly against her palm. Nikki moaned and shifted, turning more toward Helen, pressing against her as her hands traced out familiar patterns of sensation on her body.

Reaching down, Helen gripped Nikki’s thigh, pulling it up over her hip. Spreading her own legs, she moaned as she felt Nikki’s fingertips on her, stroking her wetness lightly, teasingly. She raked her fingers through the thin triangle, and then eased between puffy lips to the nodule already swollen with need.

“Hmmm, I believe you were thinking about this on the way over,” she murmured as moisture soaked her hand.

“God, I’m always thinking of this,” Nikki muttered back, “And of you.”

“Then why did you wait until tonight to come over?” Helen tried not to sound petulant, especially since Nikki was doing such wonderful things to her, making it difficult to concentrate on the conversation.

“Monday was a bitch, and the toilets backed up. I told you that on the phone. I wasn’t off until two.” Nikki explained, her voice husky in her ear. “Tuesday night, there was a fight in the pool room.” She paused briefly as Helen stroked firmly, swirling back and forth over the firm little clit with maddening pressure. Her voice was very unsteady as she added, “We had to have the police by.”

“Oh, God, Nikki!” The exclamation wasn’t so much an acknowledgment of what Nikki had said as it was approval for the long, lovely fingers that had just entered her. Nikki had respectably large hands for a woman, and there was no question she could reach deep when she wanted to.

Nikki laughed low, obviously aware of what Helen was really responding to as the rest of the conversation deteriorated into low murmurs of appreciation, whispered instructions, and progressively more vigorous sounds of enjoyment. Helen’s left hand gripped the back of Nikki’s head, tangled in the short dark hair, doing her best not to pull on it as she gasped desperately for air. Her right hand fondled with increasing firmness and intensity as Nikki responded in kind, stroking forcefully. Perspiration bathed their skin as they shuddered and trembled against each other, gripped in a mutual passion that built with what seemed like agonizing slowness. Then, with a final, quaking breath, Helen arched against Nikki as climax rippled through her, pulsating about the fingers buried deep inside. Even as she did, she was aware of Nikki’s helpless cry in her ear, of her beloved form shaking helplessly in its own release.

Slowly, slowly, they relaxed against each other, trying to catch their breaths and wrapped up in a mutual glow of pleasure and satisfaction. Withdrawing, hands offered calming caresses over inflamed skin, soothing now, comforting as they settled into a warm embrace. Helen spread her fingers over the small of Nikki’s back, pulling her close with one hand as she stroked the back of her neck lightly with the other.

“That was wonderful, sweetheart,” she whispered.

“Quite nice,” Nikki agreed readily. She nuzzled Helen’s hair, returned to its natural chestnut color after two years of flirting with blonde highlights. “I’ve missed you, darling.”

Helen swallowed back the first thing that popped into head. It would do no good to demand Nikki move in yet again, and ruin what was a perfectly lovely moment. “I’ve missed you, too,” she said instead.

Nikki nibbled her ear, and then drew back so that she could taste her. Helen lost herself in the kiss, tender and devoted, conveying a wealth of emotion in the simple touch of lips. She sighed happily as she settled into the woman’s arms, drowsiness stealing over her on kitten feet.

“I have some good news,” Nikki said.

“Yeah?”

“Our offer’s been accepted. The café’s ours.”

Jolted awake, Helen tried to see Nikki’s face in the dim illumination of the streetlight shimmering through the bedroom window. “That’s brilliant news.”

“Well, we’ll see how it goes.” But Helen could see the glint of teeth from Nikki’s smile and she knew that she was just as pleased.

For the past month, Nikki and her business partner/ex-girlfriend, Trisha, had been trying to purchase the small café just down the street from their nightclub. They wanted the building as well, and though the owner had been sticky about giving it up, it appeared he had finally given in, no doubt aided by the fact his gambling debts were steadily accumulating interest even as he negotiated. Nikki planned to turn the dingy cafe into a chic little bistro catering to the breakfast and lunch crowd from the various businesses in the area. The primary advantage to the whole deal, as far as Helen was concerned, was that Nikki would no longer be working nights.

“When will you start renovations?”

“We take possession next week.” Nikki hesitated. “It’s going to take a lot of work, darling. A lot of long hours.”

“They still won’t be as long as what you’re working now.”

Nikki made a rueful sound. “I don’t work long hours at the club, Helen. I just work incompatible hours to yours.”

Employed at the Home Office’s Correctional & Rehabilitation Policy Unit, Helen worked eight to five, Monday to Friday. ‘Incompatible’ was a somewhat insufficient assessment of a togetherness that was limited to Sundays and the occasional morning or late night.

“This will be better,” Helen insisted.

“I know.” Nikki kissed her lightly and pulled her close as they settled down against the pillows. “C’mon, you need your sleep.”

Helen laughed. “I’m too excited to sleep, now.”

She rested her hand on Nikki’s stomach, enjoying the play of smoothly defined muscle beneath the soft skin. Since her release from prison, Nikki maintained a fitness routine that included workouts at the gym every second day. Tall and slender, she ate healthy meals and had even given up smoking. Compared to her, Helen knew she was rather soft and well rounded, but fortunately, Nikki seemed to like the armful she made.

“You said you had the police over?”

“Yeah, a couple of patrons became a little forceful in demanding their turn at the table, and the ones already playing objected strenuously. Lydia was about to break them up when one of the daft cows pulled a knife. We stood back and let her wave it around while Trisha called the cops.”

“Any trouble there?” Helen asked cautiously.

Nikki was silent for a moment. “You mean, were the officers who showed up aware of the club’s history? Yeah, they were being a bit nippy, but fortunately, Claire stepped in and reminded them of the law they’re supposed to uphold.”

Nikki had tensed a little, belying the lightness of her words. Despite the provocation, the fact she’d taken a life would forever stain her soul. Helen kissed her cheek and hugged her until the stiffness in her body eased.

“What was Claire doing there?”

“I don’t know. Have you talked to her lately?”

Helen pursed her lips. “Work’s keeping us both busy. At least, I know I’m busy, and whenever I try to set up dinner or lunch, Claire begs off with the same excuse.”

Nikki’s fingertips stroked Helen’s arm lightly, making the hairs stand on end. “You think she’s avoiding you?”

“I don’t know. You see her more than I do.”

“She doesn’t really talk to me. She just shows up at the club every now and again. She speaks to Trisha, but Trisha doesn’t share with me.”

“I’ve even called Heather,” Helen admitted, referring to her friend’s long-term partner. “But I only get the machine and she never returns my calls.”

“That’s because she’s in the States. That much, I do know.”

Helen lifted her head from where it rested on Nikki’s shoulder. “What?”

“She went on holiday to California a couple of months ago.”

“Without Claire?”

“Apparently.”

“And she hasn’t come back yet?”

“Apparently not.”

“Claire’s my best friend. Why do I not know this?”

“I don’t know. What do you and Claire talk about when you do get together?”

Helen felt embarrassed. “My love life, mostly,” she admitted reluctantly. “Stuff like how much it aggravated me that you insisted on dating forever before we could sleep together.”

“Two weeks!” Nikki protested. “We dated for two whole weeks before you managed to have your way with me.”

Helen chose to overlook that. “Then we talk about how much I love you and how much I miss you because of work.” She paused, dismayed at herself. “God, what a horrid friend I am. Why wouldn’t she tell me something was going on?”

“Is she the sort to confide?”

Helen thought about it. “Not really. Maybe it’s because she’s a solicitor and used to keeping things to herself, but yeah, even in university, it was like pulling teeth to get her to say what’s on her mind. Still, I know that about her, and if I’d been paying the slightest bit of attention, I would have sussed it out.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Helen,” Nikki comforted her. “Now that you know something’s up, you can go after it with the same bulldog determination that you do everything else.”

Helen absorbed that. “Did you just call me a dog?”

“It was a compliment.”

“It didn’t sound like one.”

Nikki laughed and wrapped her up in her arms. “Do you want to fight, Miss Stewart, or do you want to make love again, since you’re obviously not going back to sleep.”

Helen pretended to consider that. Nikki squeezed her warningly and she laughed. “Make love,” she decided. “We still have some catching up to do.”

 

“This is your baby all the way, ‘Nik. There’s no way I’ll be able to manage the club and help you out at the same time.” Trisha looked over the dingy café they had pursued so avidly, her expression one of slight skepticism now that they had it. “Not beyond offering advice now and again.”

Nikki glanced at the woman with whom she’d shared so much in her life. They’d had nine years as a couple, and if that passionate love had faded into their current friendship, then there was still something to be said for that. Solidly built, with level blue eyes and thick blonde hair that curled slightly at her collar, Trisha had gone out of her way to help Nikki since her release from prison, to the point of purchasing half this café for no other reason than because Nikki wanted and needed daytime hours to maintain a healthy relationship with Helen. She was a smart businesswoman; one who’d almost single-handedly turned Chix into the hottest lesbian nightclub in London while Nikki was in Larkhall, yet she had still taken this risk. She claimed it was because she didn’t want to have to buy Nikki out, or bring in a stranger to take over the other half of the club, but Nikki sometimes wondered if it was really because she didn’t want to let go. Perhaps she thought there was still a chance for them, that Helen was only a phase and eventually, they’d have another shot at a romantic relationship. Remaining business partners was a way to keep her hand in.

“Have you been upstairs?”

Nikki made a face. That was where the previous owner had lived, and she wasn’t looking forward to seeing what was left behind. They had, of course, gone over the building with a chartered surveyor to check it structurally before buying it, but that hadn’t required them to look too closely at the flat. It was a good size, Nikki remembered, but the rest of her memory consisted of greasy furniture, dirty clothes and miscellaneous scrap that he’d been collecting.

“I’ve been avoiding it. He was a bit disgusting, wasn’t he?”

Trisha laughed. “Well, no time like the present. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

The building was four stories in total, with the café taking up the entire main floor. The second floor was given over to warehouse space, with canned goods and various boxes stored away amid the castoff ancient cooking equipment.

“Going to have to check through that,” Trisha said professionally. “God knows how long the stuff has been there. We’ll probably have to chuck the lot.”

“Probably.” Nikki ascended the second flight of stairs, pausing on the landing in front of the scarred oak door. “Got the key?”

“Right here.” Trisha fumbled at the lock before she finally managed to push open the door. The air inside was stale with old cigarette smoke and decades of greasy food. “Well, he took all the furniture. And everything else that wasn’t nailed down.”

“Good. I didn’t want to pay to have it carted off.”

Wrinkling her nose as she went into the emptied flat, Nikki peered at the peeling wallpaper and the water stains that remained in the kitchen. They’d checked over the pipes and found them to be acceptable, but it was clear that sometime in the past, there had been a significant leak. It was probable that the sink along with all the cabinetry would have to be ripped out and redone.

There was only one bedroom, but it was quite large, and the bathroom located right next to it wasn’t a bad size either, although the toilet, sink and bathtub looked rather small against the discolored walls. The fixtures were old and streaked with lime deposits, as well as other stains that Nikki didn’t care to examine too closely.

“The floor’s okay,” Trisha noted, kneeling as she examined it. She rapped it with her knuckles. “Solid hardwood. About fifty years of dirt on it but I bet it would clean up really well.”

Nikki returned to the living room and looked at the windows that lined one wall. They were streaked with grime but were a nice size and looked out onto the street below. It was an eastern exposure, and in the winter, the sunlight they allowed would be appealing. Forcing herself to ignore the neglect, she tried to see it for what it could be. “You know, Trish, this isn’t as bad as it looks.”

Trisha nodded soberly. “You’re right, ‘Nik. I don’t think he knew what he had here. This is really spacious. Any other building would have this cut up into two flats.”

Nikki thought of the tiny spaces she had lived in over the years. “More like three or four.”

“And there’s still the upstairs.” Trisha started up the staircase that creaked and groaned but remained solid.

The fourth floor was only half there, leaving the other half as a flat roof. The rooms up here had been used as attic storage, but Nikki could easily visualize this being turned into a rather nice loft space with a guest bedroom and bath.

Trisha forced open the door leading to the lower roof, stepping gingerly about the piles of scrap. The high, windowless walls of the connecting buildings on either side rose to close it in, but a short, half wall on the far end left it open, like a large balcony. A rusting refrigerator lay on its side, while the rotted frames of old sofas and bent bicycle wheels were scattered amid other unidentifiable debris. Nikki followed Trisha, shaking her head over the fact that anyone could live like this. The neighborhood had been pretty run down when she and Trisha first opened up their club, but they were part of the first wave of young, urban professionals who had discovered this part of the city’s relatively cheap real estate, intent on revitalizing it as had happened in other parts of London. Now it was becoming a fairly upscale district, with this building being one of the last reminders of what the area had looked like a decade before.

Trisha finally made it to the far wall, peering over it curiously. Nikki joined her, looking down at the alley below where dumpsters huddled against the walls. To her surprise, the alley bordered the back fence of a small, green park that hosted a kids' playground full of young mothers and their offspring.

“Oh, ‘Nik, we didn’t even notice this.” Trisha said in astonishment. “All we did was check to see if the roof was solid and if there was any indication of leakage below.” She turned to look at her. “This would make such an incredible rooftop garden. The sun sets right over that park.”

“I think we got a steal,” Nikki agreed soberly. “Toss a few quid into this, and it’ll be posh.” A smile slowly spread across her face. “Really posh, Trish.”

Trisha eyed Nikki narrowly. She was quite familiar with that expression. “What are you thinking?”

“Helen’s been on me constantly about moving in with her, and she’s got a good point about the flat over the club being so tiny. But if I have this place done over, this is the best place to live. She’s only ten minutes away from work here. A few mornings without having to fight traffic all the way from South London, and I’ll have her convinced.”

Trisha laughed. “Is her place that bad?”

Nikki shook her head. “It’s not about that, Trish. I like her place, mostly because of the garden, but it’s her place. No matter how welcome she makes me, I’ll always be on her territory. But if I bring her in here at the same time I move in, then it’s like we’re both starting from scratch.”

“Well, you’d best clean it up a little before you show it to her. She might be able to visualize how the downstairs will look with a little fixing up, but this area is nothing but a scrapyard at the moment.”

“Good idea. Maybe I should even wait until I have some designers in, get a few ideas on what can be done with it once the café is finished.”

“You know, you still own half the house,” Trisha offered. “Did you want to do something about that?”

Nikki frowned, realizing she’d forgotten that Trisha still lived in the house they’d bought only a short time before Nikki had been arrested. She hadn’t really missed it in Larkhall because she hadn’t lived in it very long. It hadn’t quite felt like a home to her. The tiny flat where she and Trisha had lived in the early years had far fonder memories, as did the other, larger flats they had shared later.

“I’d like to buy out your half,” Trisha continued. “I should have done it before now but…well, there wasn’t any reason to.”

Nikki nodded, surprised but pleased. “That’ll actually help out a lot. That way, I can put that money into the flat instead of waiting to see how much is left over after the café is done.”

“Property values in the area have increased significantly---” Trisha began.

“Pay me what I paid back then,” Nikki interrupted immediately. “I was only there six months, and frankly, if property values increased, it was because you picked out the area. You always had a better head for business than I did.”

“And you have all the charm. I nail their financial weak spot and you convince them we’re doing them a favor by exploiting it. We make a good team, ‘Nik.”

“So, I’m just the pretty face?”

“Yep, and I’m the brains.” Trisha threw an elbow into her ribs. “I thought you already knew that.”

Leaning her forearms on the top of the cement wall, Nikki glanced over at her. “Can I ask you a question, Trish?”

Trisha instantly looked wary, recognizing the tone in Nikki’s voice as the one she used whenever she was about to explore an area she wasn’t sure she was supposed to go. “I might not answer.”

“Fair enough.” Nikki contemplated the tiny figures of the kids playing in the park. “Have we put Claire Walker under retainer?”

Trisha’s response was uncharacteristically reserved. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because she’s at the club two or three nights a week, and you two seem to spend a lot of time talking.” Nikki exhaled slowly. “Or are you talking about legal matters?”

“I told you, we became friends while we were working on your appeal.”

“Friends, is it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Nikki shook her head. “Just wondering.”

“Well stop wondering,” Trisha said in an irrefutable tone. “She’s going through a bit of a rough time at the moment. I’m just offering a shoulder, you know?”

“Does this ‘rough time’ include breaking up with her girlfriend?”

Trisha glanced at her quickly, then just as quickly, looked away. “It looks like it,” she admitted reluctantly. “I don’t think Heather’s coming back from California. In fact, I think she’s met someone over there.”

“So, Claire’s seriously on the rebound right now.”

Trisha fixed her with a steady look. A soft breeze sent a strand of flaxen hair across her serious features. “I’m not stupid, ‘Nik. Claire and I are close, but that’s it. I know better than to get involved with someone who’s struggling out of a long term relationship.”

“But does Claire know it?”

“Where are you going with this?”

Nikki spread out her hands. “Nowhere in particular. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Why don’t you let me worry about that? You need to concentrate on your own relationship. Or are you so sure Helen’s going to want to live here?”

Nikki looked away, unable to meet that level glare. “Shit.”

Trisha abruptly laughed. “That’s about what I thought.” She glanced at her watch. “C’mon. It’s time to get to the club. We open in an hour.”

Linking her arm in Nikki’s, she pulled her away from the wall and they picked their way back to the door. Just before she closed it and made sure it was secure, Nikki took another glance at the roof and for an instant, saw not the scrap scattered over it, but rather a profusion of plants and garden furniture, arranged to take advantage of the setting sun.

Yep, she thought, this would be the main selling point. Clean this up first, transform it into what she knew it could be, and then bring Helen up here.

She wouldn’t be able to resist.

 

Tired of the multitude of excuses she’d received over the past week, Helen showed up at Claire’s office at ten to five. She knew Claire wasn’t in court, and she’d left work early to make sure she would be at the solicitor’s office before she finished for the day. Taking a seat out in the waiting area, she smiled at Claire’s secretary, but didn’t ask to be announced. In fact, she put her fingers up to her lips to indicate that Claire shouldn't be warned, and after a single odd look in her direction, the receptionist complied.

The willowy Claire hesitated in her office doorway when she saw Helen waiting for her, an undecipherable look on her face before she forced a smile and walked over to her. “Helen, what are you doing here?” She bussed her cheek lightly, a mere brush of lips. If Helen hadn't seen the expression before it was covered over, she might think her friend was actually glad to see her.

“I'm here to take you to dinner,” Helen said in an irrefutable tone, and when Claire opened her mouth, undoubtedly to offer another excuse, she put up her finger, forestalling it. “And I won't take no for an answer.”

Claire dipped her head, evaluating Helen for a moment, and then obviously realized there was no way out. She didn't quite sigh, but it was close, nor did she speak much as they walked to a restaurant not far from her office. Helen kept her part of the conversation light, ignoring the monosyllables she recieved in response.

“I wondered when you'd corner me,” Claire said finally after they'd settled at their table and the waiter had taken their order.

“I shouldn't have had to,” Helen allowed, a bit shamefully. “I know I've been a little wrapped up in myself lately, but I should have realized something was going on with you.”

Claire sipped her ice water. “Did Nikki tell you?”

“She said you'd been popping by the club a lot. She also said that you'd seemed upset a couple of times while you were talking to Trisha, but she didn't have any details.”

Claire looked vaguely surprised. “Trisha didn't tell her what was going on?”

“Did you ask her not to?”

“I may have. I don't know. I can't remember.”

Helen and Trisha weren't exactly the best of friends but they'd developed a mutual respect in the months since Nikki's release. “If you'd asked her not to say anything, then Trisha wouldn't, not even to Nikki. All Nikki knows is that Heather's in America.” Helen fixed Claire with a significant look. “But that's more than I knew. What the hell is she doing there and why didn't you tell me she was going?”

Claire developed an intense fascination with the tabletop. “She wanted to explore a few options in the States. One of the options has apparently become another woman.”

Saddened, Helen reached over to touch her arm. “Ah, Claire.” She searched for something to say. “What happened?”

“She was tired of her job. Said she'd gone as far as she could in her firm and wanted some new challenges. When she told me she wanted to go to California, I asked her to wait a little while, until I could take some time off to go with her.”

Helen frowned. “She refused?”

“Not at first, but I had cases and I couldn't put them back and, well...eventually she got tired of waiting.” Claire looked up as the waiter set their meals down on the table, waiting until he was gone before continuing. “I was going to join her last month, but it was clear through our phone calls that she really didn't want me to make the effort. Then she was offered a job, and she told me she was taking it. This woman she met arranged it for her.”

Claire didn't seem as upset as Helen would have expected. Perhaps she had already talked through most of it with Trisha. If that was the case, Helen wondered why Claire had chosen her rather than her friend of several years. Had she been that absorbed in what was going on with Nikki?

“I can't believe this,” she said quietly. “You two have been together for so long, ever since I've known you.”

“Well, it had become predictable some time ago.”

“You seem rather calm about it.”

Claire managed a wan smile. “I've pretty much done my crying. There aren't any tears left.”

“Not with me, you haven't.”

Claire looked uncomfortable. “I'm sorry, Helen, but you were so happy with Nikki...I didn't want to bring you down with my problems.”

“Claire, you're my friend. I want to know what's going on with you.” Helen leaned back in her chair, tucking her hair behind her right ear in an agitated gesture she didn't even know she had. “Or did you just prefer talking to Trisha?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” There was suddenly an edge in Claire's normally gentle tones.

“I heard you and Trisha became pretty close while you were working on Nikki's appeal.”

Claire's sandy brows drew together almost angrily. “Are you accusing me of something?”

Helen put out a placating hand, realizing she hadn't phrased that quite in manner she wanted, though it was possible that Claire was overreacting the slightest bit. Maybe Heather wasn't the only one who'd met someone new in the last little while. “I'm sorry, that's not what I meant.” Helen took a couple of bites of her curry to give them both a moment to cool down. “I guess I was unhappy that you'd gone to Trisha and not to me about this. Have I let our friendship slide that much?”

“Maybe we both have.” Claire sighed. “I'm sorry. I should have at least told you that Heather and I were having problems.”

“Is there no hope at all?”

Claire shook her head. “All that's left now is dividing up fifteen years of living together. At least the marriage laws haven't come in yet. We won't have to get a divorce.”

“Jesus. Well, everyone else I know from university has been divorced. I had higher hopes for you. At least, your relationship lasted the longest.”

“And fortunately, there are no children to consider.”

Helen didn't know if it was fortunate or not. Maybe children would have bound them together more firmly, or caused them to try harder. On the other hand, it certainly hadn't helped any of the heterosexual couples she knew, and frequently, the children became nothing more than a bone of contention, along with the house, the car and all the other assets.

“God, does no one stay together anymore?” She hadn't intended to say it out loud, but when she saw Claire flinch, she realized she had. “Sorry.”

“I understand. You're still in the honeymoon phase with Nikki. To encounter something like this is scary, especially after everything you two have already been through. That's the other reason I didn't confide in you. Why shake your confidence in true love.” The last was said a bit sardonically, and Helen favored her with a dark look.

“I'm not a child, Claire. I don't need to be protected from knowing the truth about grown up relationships.”

“Well, maybe you and Nikki will beat the odds.”

Helen suddenly felt depressed. “Yeah, what are they now? Averaging fifty percent? Shit, I need a drink.”

“I do, too. Want to go to the club?”

“What, Chix?”

“At least we know if we get pissed there, it'll be completely safe.”

Helen thought about it a moment. “Okay, but isn't Thursday night Retro or something?”

“Hate to break this to you, Helen, but so are we, apparently.”

Helen was horrified as she dug out her credit card to pay the bill. “'Oi, don’t tell me that!”

There was a queue at the door when Helen drove past. Parking her Peugeot 306 between Nikki's Porsche Boxster and Trisha’s BMW in the private car park midway between the club and the cafe, she and Claire got out of the car. Claire paused to look at the sleek vehicles belonging to the club owners, and then at Helen’s very practical sedan. Helen caught her expression and frowned at her.

“What?”

“Well, if there’re any car thieves out tonight, we know which one will still be here in the morning.”

“Shut up.”

Claire laughed as they walked to the club. Lydia saw them approach and the large, snowy haired bouncer offered a smile and a nod. Reaching down to unhook the red barrier rope, she granted the two women immediate entrance. Helen was conscious of the envious looks from the women waiting in line, and she found it rather gratifying in an odd sort of way. She had never been offered such preferential treatment at a nightclub before. She supposed sleeping with one of the owners did have its perks.

Inside, she worked her way through the crowd to the bar. One of the staff pointed toward the rear of the club. “Nikki’s in the office,” she shouted over the noise. She glanced past Helen to Claire. “So's Trisha.”

Helen shot a look at Claire, saw her face color slightly, and knew there was something more going on there than her friend was letting on. Biting back the comment that leapt to her tongue, she wound her way through the masses thronging the bar until she reached the door at the back. Helen knocked lightly on it, and without waiting, opened it.

Trisha was behind the desk, typing rapidly on the keyboard of the computer as she stared intently at the screen. Nikki was slouched in the chair opposite her, feet up on the desk, playing with a Nerf basketball that she kept sending through the hoop tacked up on the wall.

Helen shook her head. “What is it you do again to get paid all that money?”

Nikki, whose face had lit up upon seeing Helen, grinned cheekily. “I’m the ‘face’ of Chix. I charm the patrons.”

“Ah, I see.” Helen smiled and bent over, kissing her lightly. But she was not so focused on her girlfriend that she didn’t see how Trisha had immediately risen from her chair and was grinning happily at Claire, nor did she miss her pleased look in return as they exchanged murmured greetings.

Nikki tilted her head. “What brings you by?”

“A girl’s night out. Claire and I are going to get pissed.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not the sort of thing that can be planned, Nikki,” Helen explained earnestly. “It just happens when it happens.”

“And you decided to do it here?” Trisha regarded Claire with amusement.

“You’re supposed to keep us from doing anything stupid.”

Nikki glanced at them both with a certain amount of alarm. “Such as?”

“Oh, dancing on the table, taking off her shirt and waving it about her head, throwing up in her handbag, going home with someone entirely inappropriate…all of which Helen has done at one time or another.”

Helen shot Claire a hard look. “You didn’t need to share that.”

“I didn’t know you were such a wild woman, Miss Stewart.” Nikki actually looked intrigued at the thought.

“That was long ago, during my years at university.”

Claire offered a sly grin. “C’mon Nikki, you know how ministers’ daughters are when they finally cut loose.”

“I don’t, but I suppose I’ll find out tonight.” Nikki dipped her head at Trisha. “We should be able to find them a table.”

“And keep an eye on them periodically through the night.” Trisha smirked. “After all, if they do anything too outrageous, Lydia can always throw them out.”

To Nikki’s great astonishment, Helen hadn't been kidding when she said she and Claire were going to get pissed. She honestly thought that meant the two friends would have a couple of drinks, share a few laughs, and then head home early in preparation for work the next day. Instead, the pair of them settled at the table Nikki had commandeered for them on the upper level and started going through Vodka/Red Bulls as if they were lemonade, fueled by reminisces of their time in university and their early years in their respective jobs. Occasionally, Nikki or Trisha would stop by the table and share a drink...though they limited themselves to soda water...where they were regaled with a story or two before returning to work. And the more Claire and Helen drank, the more uninhibited they became.

By the end of the evening, Helen had grabbed Nikki’s ass twice as she passed by and groped one confused but rather gratified young woman who only resembled Nikki from the rear. Helen apologized profusely, if somewhat inarticulately, but the young woman didn’t appear to require it. She left her number written on Helen’s palm before Nikki could intervene.

“Jesus, Nikki, this is ridiculous,” Trisha muttered as they stood behind the small bar and regarded the pair laughing uproariously. “They look like they really know what they’re doing. I didn’t know Claire was that much of a drinker.”

“She’s ordered here before.”
“Yeah, but she’d only have one or two before she’d start crying. I’d listen to her, pour some coffee down her throat, then put her in a cab or run her home myself.” She glanced over. “What about Helen?”

Nikki shrugged, somewhat at a loss. “Honestly, I’ve never seen her drink beyond a glass of wine with dinner once in a while. I knew she probably did go out drinking on occasion, but it’s not like I’ve ever been there to witness it.”

“Well, you’re witnessing it now.” Trisha shook her head, regarding the pair somberly. “There’s no way they’ll be able to go to work tomorrow. They’ll still be drunk come morning.”

“At least Helen waited a couple of months before having to call in sick. Why the hell didn’t they wait until tomorrow night?”

“Fridays are when all the baby dykes come in. Not their scene at all. And Saturday night’s insane. We’d never be able to keep an eye on them. Face it, ‘Nik, we made Thursday night perfect for them.”

“Well, they should have done it last night,” Nikki grumbled. “Then they’d be drinking for half price.”

“Christ, Nikki, you know they’re on the house. You’re not really going to make them pay their tab?”

“I should. That would teach Helen to go get pissed without me.” Her brows drew down. “Why do you suppose they’re getting drunk at all?”

Trisha’s level blue eyes assessed them dispassionately. “My guess would be that Claire finally told Helen what’s going on with Heather, and now, like any good friend, she’s commiserating with her.”

“Ah.” Nikki glanced at the clock. “And just what is the story beyond what you've already told me?”

“It’s over with Heather, and Claire is getting used to being a free woman for the first time in her adult life. I think she’s a little frightened of that.”

“So, she needs her friends right now.”

“I got the message the first time, ‘Nik,” Trisha said with a hint of exasperation. “You don’t have to keep harping on it.”

Nikki affected an innocent look. “Who, me?”

“Shut up.”

Nikki laughed and glanced at the clock again. “I don’t think I’ll drive Helen home. I’ll just take her upstairs and put her to bed there.”

“Do you suppose she's the sort that should be put to bed in the loo?”

Nikki winced at the thought. “God, I hope not. The last thing I need is to have her be sick in my bed.”

“Better you than me.”

“What about Claire? Going to drive her home?”

Trisha suddenly lost her smile. “And stay with her. She looks like she’s having fun now, but we both know how quick that ends when you go back to an empty flat and remember why it is you needed to be drunk in the first place.”

Nikki started to reply, stopped, and then patted her on the shoulder. “Just be careful, Trish. And not only tonight.”

Trisha looked like she was about to object, but then let out her breath slowly. “I will, ‘Nik.”

“Closing time?” Nikki crossed her arms over her chest.

“Yeah.”

“You want to tell them?”

“Nope.”

“I suppose we can clear out everyone else before we let them know.”

“Might be safer.”

“Could even do all the closing first.”

“Yeah, tell them just before we turn out the lights.”

Nikki laughed and with a final exchanged glance of amused resignation, they proceeded with the process of bringing another night at Chix to an end. After saying good-bye to the staff, they made their way back to the upper level where Helen and Claire seemed oblivious to the fact that they were the only ones left. Nikki wondered why they hadn’t noticed the music had shut off and the lights had come up. Could they really be that pissed?

“Sorry, ladies,” Nikki said loudly as she approached the table. “Last call. We’re closed.”

Bewildered, Helen straightened and looked around. “Where’d everyone go?”

“Home,” Nikki told her sternly. “Which is where you’re going. I’m taking you upstairs.”

Helen looked mildly rebellious for a moment before refocusing on Nikki and the knowledge that she was her girlfriend. A large smile spread over her face. “You’re taking me upstairs?”

At least, that’s what Nikki thought she said. Between the slurring and the accent that had shifted to a thick highland brogue, she was only making an approximation of what Helen might have tried to communicate.

Meanwhile, Trisha was urging Claire gently to her feet, and she complied without argument, apparently quite happy to be leaving with her. Nikki put her hands on Helen’s shoulders and got quite close to her face.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Helen peered owlishly at her and nodded vigorously.

After helping Trisha maneuver Claire down the stairs to the main floor and out the door, Nikki made sure it was locked securely, and then returned to the upper level. Helen was weaving her way toward the staircase, and Nikki got there just in time to prevent her from taking a header down the steps.

“Whoa, I got you,” Nikki said, catching her in her arms. Fortunately, she’d seen what was about to take place and was able to brace herself on the railing. “Let’s go out this way, darling.”

“I’m okay,” Helen muttered.

“Sure you are,” Nikki said agreeably as she managed to turn her around without major injury to either of them. Arm firmly about Helen's waist, she guided her across the empty upper level to the door at the back that led to the stairwell. Helen was fairly cooperative as these things went. She obviously wanted to go with Nikki wherever she planned to take her. The problem was that she kept trying to undress Nikki as they walked.

“Helen!”

Nikki shifted away from the groping hand that had managed to insinuate itself between her legs.

Completely unrepentant, Helen leered at her. “C’mon Nikki, make love to me all night long. Just like you promised down the block.”

“First we have to get to bed,” Nikki told her. That little bit of incentive garnered enough cooperation to get them up the stairs to the landing where the door leading to the flat was located. She propped Helen up against the wall as she used her key on the lock. Kicking the door open, she managed to get her hands under Helen’s armpits as she began to sag toward the floor.

“Up we go. Come on, Helen. Give us some help here.” For such a small woman, she was absolute deadweight when she wanted to be.

“Give you something,” Helen promised as she fell into Nikki, nuzzling her neck and reaching behind her to grab her buttocks with surprising strength.

 Startled, Nikki muttered a curse and fended her off. She easily recognized this game from her early years of playing the field. Anyone who’d drunk as much as Helen only thought they wanted sex. The second she was lying down, she'd be out like a light. The real trick was to get her to the bed before she passed out on the couch or a chair or even the floor.

Inside the tiny bedroom, the queen-sized bed took up most of the space, and for once, Nikki was grateful for it because she was able to propel Helen onto it without too much problem. She wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when Helen started snoring scant seconds after sprawling across the mattress. Without her trying to help, it was a fairly simple matter for Nikki to strip off her clothes and toss the duvet over her.

Breathing heavily, Nikki straightened and raked her fingers through her sweat-soaked hair, leaving it standing on end. “Christ,” she muttered out loud, “I didn’t work this hard digging in the bloody garden at Larkhall.”

Stripping off her clothes, she went into the bathroom where she took a long, hot shower. Wrapped up in a robe, she dug out her mobile phone from her jacket pocket and went out to the living room where she dialed the number of Helen’s office.

She left the message on the answering machine that Helen Stewart was feeling a little ‘under the weather’ and would be unable to make it to work. If they wondered why some other woman was phoning in for her at such an odd time of night, hopefully they would take it as an indication that Helen was so ill that she was up all hours and that she’d needed someone else to take care of calling in. It was even possible that Dominic McAllister, one of Helen’s colleagues at the Policies Unit and someone who’d known Nikki at Larkhall while serving as a prison guard, might recognize her voice and identify her to the others as Helen’s ‘partner’.

Nikki wondered if that would bother him and if she should be as amused at the thought as she was.

In the kitchen area, she surveyed the meager selection and finally settled on the garbage bin, removing the trash already inside and relining it with a new bag. She placed it beside Helen’s side of the bed. Should it become necessary, she thought she’d be able to quickly maneuver Helen’s head over it before she managed to make a mess on the bed. At least, that was the plan.

Slipping into bed next to the unconscious woman, she let out a sigh of relief now that she was horizontal. She was surprised when Helen stirred and rolled over to snuggle up against her side. A little nervous, Nikki looked at her, but when Helen settled down without doing anything untoward, she could relax. She did have a momentary qualm about having her so close while in her condition, but in the end, she left her where she was. Helen's body felt good against her and at least, lying on her side had brought an end to the snoring.

Lips curving in a faint smile, Nikki closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

 

Oh, fuckin' 'ell.

Helen rolled over and immediately regretted it as the room commenced to spinning about. Swallowing hard, she stayed completely still, and after a moment, things settled down somewhat. Slowly, she began to recognize where she was and what had happened. She carefully reached out a hand, groping around to determine that she was completely alone in the bed. She tried very hard not to move her head. Every time she did, her stomach threatened to make a break for it, and it was a tossup as to which orifice it would choose as its primary escape route.

“Are you all right?”

Carefully, Helen shifted her eyes to the doorway to the bedroom.

“Nikki?”

At least that’s what she tried to say. What came out was not unlike the croak of a frog. Nikki tilted her head slightly as she observed her. “You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit.”

“Well, vodka and Red Bull will do that to you. Keeps you alert as hell right up until the end.”

“Is that what I was drinking?”

Nikki laughed. Helen wanted to kill her where she stood. She would have, too, if she wasn’t already in the process of expiring.

“What time is it?” Helen didn’t particularly care at this point but she thought she needed to make the effort.

“Past lunch.”

Helen’s stomach lurched. “Please, don’t mention anything to do with…” she trailed off. She couldn’t even say it.

“Food?”

“Jesus Christ, Nikki.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Nikki leaned against the doorframe, smiling faintly. Dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, the clothes clung to her lanky form with what would have been fascinating snugness had Helen felt the slightest bit human. “I’m not sure if you care or not, but I called you in sick for work.”

Helen shut her eyes. She hadn’t even thought about it until that moment. “This is Friday.”

“Yes, it is.” Nikki’s tone was a trifle sardonic.

“I’m supposed to be at the office.”

“Yes, you are.”

“God.”

Nikki exhaled and made an attempt to look severe but couldn’t quite manage it. “Would you like some something for your head?”

Helen’s gratitude was pathetic. “Do you have anything?”

“Darling, you’re hardly the first person with a hangover I’ve had to deal with.”

Nikki provided some painkillers and, after Helen managed to down an alka seltzer, convinced her to take some tea. The combination made her feel marginally better…better enough, at least, to sit up in the bed as Nikki arranged the pillows for her back.

“I used to be better at this,” Helen muttered as she sipped the hot liquid, grateful for the moisture. She was parched.

“At what?”

“Staying out all hours, drinking. I was always able to drag myself out of bed and go to work the next day.”

Nikki, perched on the side of the bed, offered a smile. “Well, that’s the problem, Helen, it’s like playing a sport. You have to keep in training, and you haven’t been.”

“I reckon.” She paused. “Did I do anything terribly stupid?”

“You don’t remember?”

“It’s kind of a blur,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Well, except for making one young woman’s night by grabbing her arse, you didn’t do much.”

Helen shot her a disbelieving glance. “You’re kidding!”

Nikki reached over, grasped her wrist gently and turned it over to reveal the palm of her hand. There was a smeared phone number scribbled there in blue ink. “She was quite taken with you. Not bad taste for a twenty-two-year-old.”

“Dear God.” Helen was appalled. “What was I thinking?”

Nikki laughed. “Well, to be honest, you thought it was me walking past, and by the time you realized it was someone who just sort of resembled me, you had your hands full. She really got off on your accent.”

“She was only twenty-two? I thought it was retro night.”

“Some baby dykes like the old disco music.” Nikki leaned over and kissed Helen gently on the temple. “I have to go, darling. I only stopped by to see if you were still breathing. I need to get back to the café. They’re ripping out the kitchen.”

Helen didn’t want her to leave, but she couldn’t come up with a justifiable reason to keep her from work. It was bad enough that she had missed a day at her own job for a hangover. She honestly couldn’t remember why it had seemed like such a good idea to get pissed the previous night, doubting very much that it had helped Claire at all.

Which reminded her. “What happened to Claire?”

“Trisha took her home. I presume everything went all right. I haven’t seen either of them since.”

“Nikki, do you think…” Helen began, paused as she realized she wasn’t sure how to say it.

“That Trisha and Claire might be headed for something?” Nikki raked her fingers through her hair, leaving it disarrayed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Helen. Trisha says no, that they’re just friends and she’s not about to get involved with someone who’s fresh out of a long-term relationship.”

“Claire got angry when I ventured anywhere near the subject.”

Nikki sighed. “They’ll be shagging each other’s brains out before long, if they're not already.”

“Matter of time,” Helen agreed. They shared a look. “We’ll have to be there to pick up the pieces.”

“Ah, maybe it’ll work out. We did, and let’s face it, we’re as odd a couple as you’ll find.”

“True.”

Nikki ran her knuckles along Helen’s cheek. “Will you be all right?”

Helen nodded gingerly, relieved when it no longer felt as if her head would fall off and roll away. “I’ll be fine.” She smiled wryly. “It’s not my first hangover either.”

Nikki stroked her hair lightly and rose from the bed. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. I might have to work the club tonight, too, depending on how busy it is. Will you stay?”

Helen took another slow swallow of tea. “Sweetheart, I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to. I’m not sure I can walk yet, let alone drive.”

“Fair enough. When you’re up for it, there’s some fodder in the fridge.”

Helen set her back teeth at the thought. “I’ll manage.”

Nikki kissed her again, on the cheek. Helen couldn’t blame her for avoiding her mouth. Despite the tea, she didn’t imagine that she would taste very good at the moment. She set the mug on the bedside table and settled back on the pillows as she listened to Nikki leave, the outer door shutting softly behind her.

Pulling up the duvet, she turned gingerly onto her side, drawing her legs up as she wrapped her arms around a pillow. It smelled of Nikki and she nuzzled into it, finding comfort in the scent. She didn’t feel like sleeping, but she still felt too fragile to move. Contemplating her actions, she wondered what had possessed her to indulge in such idiotic behavior on a weeknight. She must have been afflicted with a temporary bout of insanity. She wasn’t twenty anymore. Hell, she wasn’t even thirty any more. She couldn’t drink that way and expect to bounce back the next day.

After a bit, she dozed off, and when she woke, the sun was slanting across the bedroom with that translucent light that heralded dusk. Dredging up some determination, she slipped from the bed and went into the bathroom where she took a long, relaxing shower. Wrapped up in Nikki’s robe, which was far too large for her, she tottered out to the kitchen where she toasted some bread, slapped a little butter on it, and when that stayed down, tried some fruit from the fridge.

Curling up on the battered old sofa, she turned on Nikki’s small television, her head still suffering too much to try reading. She found a movie that didn’t tax her powers of concentration, but did keep her entertained enough to stick with it. When it was over, she had some more tea and toast, took two aspirins and went back to bed.

Nikki woke her about three. Helen heard her in the bathroom, taking a quick shower to wash off the smoke and liquor smell before she came into the bedroom. She smiled when she saw Helen was awake and crawled into bed next to her.

“How are you feeling?”

“Still a bit queasy,” Helen admitted as she settled into Nikki’s warm embrace.

“Did you eat anything?”

“Bit of tea and toast. A little fruit earlier.” Helen nestled her head on Nikki’s shoulder. “How was your night?”

“Busy, but at least tonight, we didn’t have any drunken Scots molesting the girls on their way to the loo.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Nikki made a sound of amusement. “Trisha says that Claire isn’t feeling much better than you are. In fact, she may be a little worse. Spent most of the morning with her head in the bog.”

“Ugh.” Helen swallowed hard and resolved not to think about it. “Well, I don’t think either of us will be doing this again any time soon.”

“No? That’s probably wise.”

“Thank you for looking after me.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Nikki?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you like when you’re drunk?”

Nikki smiled, obviously thinking about that for a moment. “I don’t drink a lot, Helen. Probably comes from running a bar and dealing with people who do on a recurring basis, but when I let loose, I’m generally a happy drunk. I suppose I get more affectionate…I’m always hugging and kissing people, complete strangers even.”

“Yeah?” Helen tightened the arm she had wrapped around Nikki’s stomach, hugging her gently. “Well, we can’t have that, can we? No more drinking for you.”

Nikki laughed quietly. “You know, for someone who constantly complained about my being jealous, you’ve a rather generous streak of it, yourself.”

Helen couldn’t deny it, as much as she wanted to. “Back in Larkhall, I didn’t have any competition. Out here, they’re falling out of the trees to be with you. I’ve seen how the women look at you in the club.”

Nikki kissed her on the forehead. “You’re the only one I want to be with, Helen, even if you do get pissed on occasion and feel up the birds.”

“God, you’re not going to let that go, are you?”

“Not for a while. In fact, that one will get hauled out whenever you decide to get a little bossy.”

Helen wasn't exactly pleased at the prospect.

“So…” Nikki nuzzled her lightly. “You wanna shag?”

“You want me to be sick on you?”

“I’ll take that as a no. Odd, you were a lot more romantic last night…at least, until you passed out.”

“I reckon I’ll have to owe you.” Helen snuggled closer and kissed her neck. “Both for last night, and tonight.” She tangled her leg with Nikki’s, exhaling gustily. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“G’night, darling.”

 

A week later, Nikki sat in Helen’s living room, going over the plans the architect had drawn up for the flat renovations. A stirring in the bedroom made her lift her head, and unhurriedly, she rolled up the sheets of paper and slipped them into the protective cardboard tube. A few minutes later, a sleepy figure in a terrycloth robe and slippers shuffled out, heading in the general direction of the kitchen.

She stopped when she saw Nikki, a huge smile lighting up her face. “What are you doing here?”

“Had some things to do this morning,” Nikki said casually. “Dropped by to see if you wanted to come.”

Helen padded over to the sofa and put her hands on Nikki’s shoulders, pushing her back against the cushions as she straddled her. “I always want to come,” she murmured as she kissed her, tasting sourly of sleep. “You know that.”

Nikki ignored both the pun and the flavor of her girlfriend, neither of which were particularly charming this time of the morning. “Steady on, lass,” she told her with a smile as Helen settled her body onto hers, arms wrapped around her neck. “If there was time for that, I would have gone in and woke you as soon as I got here.”

Helen sighed and rested her forehead against Nikki’s. “When was that?”

“About twenty minutes ago. I haven’t been to bed yet.”

“No time like the present,” Helen muttered happily, unbuttoning Nikki’s shirt and slipping her hand beneath to fondle her breast through her bra.

Nikki inhaled deeply, sorely tempted but eventually remembered her priorities. “Not before I run my errands,” she told her firmly as she grasped her wrist, pulling away from the delightful caress “Do you want to come with me or not?

Apparently realizing Nikki was serious about not spending Saturday morning in bed, Helen didn’t exactly pout, but she wasn’t especially enthusiastic about it either. “What errands?”

“I have to go to a garden center. I plan to have a lot of plants in the café and I want to get the list in so that they’re ready for the opening.” What she didn’t add was that she also had to arrange for several large potted bushes and plants to be delivered for the rooftop garden. And while she was there, she figured she’d take care of ordering some bushes she wanted to add to Helen’s back garden as well. She squeezed Helen lightly. “Do you want to get dressed, or shall I go without you?”

Helen sighed loudly. “Give me a few minutes. Do I have time for breakfast?”

“We’ll stop on the way.”

Helen made a sound indicating her lack of enjoyment over all this early morning activity, but she kissed Nikki once more and slid off her lap, shuffling off to the bedroom. Nikki smiled and picked up her tube as the she heard the sound of the shower. Going outside to the front pavement where her car was parked, she tossed the tube in behind the seat and slipped on her sunglasses, enjoying the sunshine as she leaned against the fender and waited for Helen. A little silver Boxster convertible, Nikki’s car was completely impractical, but she loved it anyway. Her old Porsche had been sitting in storage for five years and after her appeal; she had immediately traded it in for the newest model.

Helen paused briefly on the top landing when she saw Nikki, almost as if she didn’t recognize her standing there. When she finished descending the stairs, she offered Nikki a smile that seemed almost shy.

“You’re too sophisticated for this street.”

Nikki laughed. “Not considering where I’ve spent the past five years.” She slipped behind the wheel, waited until Helen was settled, and pulled away from the curb. “So tell me, darling, you were shagging a gardener. You must know where the largest garden center is between here and the club.”

Helen shot her a look but apparently decided not to prickle at the comment, which was a bit of a miracle considering she hadn’t had either coffee or breakfast yet. Her tone was a bit clipped when she gave directions though, after first pointedly reminding Nikki that she had promised to stop for food.

After a bite at the local café, Nikki parked her car outside the local garden center. She went immediately to the manager with her list of requirements, bypassing the staff that consisted mostly of teenagers, and once he saw the amount she was looking to spend, immediately welcomed her into the office to go over it with her. Helen declined the offer to join the discussion, announced she was going to buy a plant for her office at work and wandered off in search of just the right one.

After Nikki had concluded business to her satisfaction, including establishing solid delivery dates, she left the manager’s office and paused briefly by the display of bulbs. As she looked over the selection, she became aware of a body behind her browsing the opposite display, the way one took in their surroundings while shopping. Unfortunately, it appeared that the other customer wasn't particularly aware of her and stepped back into her. Annoyed, she turned around as he did. Both paused in surprise when they recognized the other.

“Uh, hi there.” Nikki lifted a brow. She should have expected this, she told herself. After all, the only reason Helen knew about the garden center was because of him.

Sean Parr, Helen's ex-fiancé, appeared at a loss for words. “Uh, sorry,” he managed. “I wasn't watching.” A tall, thin man with boyish features, a lock of unruly hair falling over his forehead, he looked very uncomfortable. “I heard you got out.”

Nikki forced a smile. She suspected it was rather pained. “Yeah, a few months ago.”

“Good news for you.”

“It was.”

His features abruptly darkened. “I wonder if they took everything into account when they let you go.”

“Huh?”

He took a step closer, lowering his voice. “Helen told me how you dragged her into her cell and tried to kiss her. If you were a man, you'd have been charged with sexual assault.”

Nikki was stunned. “She told you what?”

At that moment, the woman in question came around the end of the counter. “Sweetheart, have you fin...” She was carrying a plant and stopped dead when she saw who was standing with her lover. Obviously, while she had spotted Nikki, the tall display had prevented her from seeing someone else was there.

Sean looked back and forth between the two women, understanding slowly dawning in his dark eyes. “Bloody hell.”

Nikki smiled ferociously. “Reckon I didn't have to drag her in there more than once.”

He just looked disgusted and without another word, walked away. Helen looked after him a moment, a concerned expression on her face, before focusing on Nikki. “Are you all right? What did he want?”

Nikki was biting the inside of her cheek and counting very slowly to ten. Don't jump on this, she repeated to herself like a mantra. “I'll be out in the car.”

Without looking at her, Nikki put down the bulbs and walked away in the opposite direction that Sean had taken. Out in the Boxster, she stared through the windshield and gritted her teeth. Sometimes she simply couldn't believe the behavior of Helen. She set her jaw as the passenger door opened and Helen slipped inside, setting her newly purchased plant on her lap.

“What did he say to upset you?”

“Oh, he mentioned something about how the appeals court wouldn't have let me go if they had taken everything into account.”

Helen's eyes narrowed, growing dark. “Bastard.”

Nikki made a sound, not quite like a growl. “Don’t blame him. Apparently he's under the impression that during my incarceration, I had an unfortunate habit of dragging wing governors into my cell and trying to kiss them. Said if I were a man, I'd be charged with sexual assault.”

A profound silence greeted this remark and Nikki took a sideways glance. There was an expression on Helen's face, midway between shame and embarrassment.

“Did you tell him I assaulted you?” She was incredulous.

“I may have,” Helen admitted reluctantly after a moment.

“Great. He thinks I’m no better than Jim Fenner. Not that I give a bloody toss what he thinks.” She slammed her hands on the steering wheel and looked away, out the side window, feeling tears sting her eyes.

“Nikki, you have to understand, after you kissed me that first time, I was confused and upset...”

“So, you lied to him!”

“It wasn’t a lie exactly…”

“Let's review, shall we?” Nikki's tone was scathing. “I was sitting alone in my cell after lockup, reading a book and minding my own business, when you came in and plunked your arse down on the bed beside me. Not down at the other end of the bed, not a couple of feet away, but right down beside me so that we’re side by side, actually touching. Never mind that there was a chair in the cell, not to mention a toilet if you were really pressed for someplace to sit other than right next to me...”

“Nikki...”

“You proceed to give me this huge sob story about your job, snuggle up when I put my arm around you, look for support and comfort from me, someone who's made no secret that she fancies you in every way, and then, when I take what is a perfectly natural opportunity to kiss you…

“Nikki…”

“You play the wounded heterosexual. Okay, I admit that maybe my timing was a little off, but it wasn't just the one kiss, Helen, it was three and let's set the record straight, you were bloody well kissing me back for at least two and a half of them, and if I hadn’t started pulling you closer for something else, we might have enjoyed two or three more. I actually let you get away with the accusation that I took advantage of you at the time, but if you think I'll accept being tarred as a sexual predator because...”

“Nikki!”

Fuming, Nikki shut up. Despite her best effort, she'd gone off again, but hell, she felt she had valid reason this time.

Helen looked sincerely contrite. “You're right. It was unacceptable. I shouldn't have told him about it at all, but when I did, I shouldn't have misrepresented what happened.”

“So, why did you?”

“I don't know.”

Nikki lifted her brows. “If you don’t, who the hell does?”

“Can you just accept it was a stupid thing to do at a rather chaotic time in my life?”

“Fine.” Though she didn't think it was fine at all.

“Do you want me to go find Sean and tell him I lied?”

Nikki laughed without humor. “I think he figured it out when you came around the corner calling me sweetheart. That or he thinks you like being assaulted by female inmates.”

“Shit.”

For a moment, the two women sat in the car in silence. Helen broke it first, reaching over to put her hand on Nikki's leg. “Do you forgive me?”

Nikki hesitated a moment before putting her hand over Helen's, entwining her fingers in hers. “You know I do.”

“Are we okay?”

“I reckon.”

“Do we need to go back in and finish shopping?”

Nikki glanced at her. “No, I’ve taken care of everything. With any luck, any future business can be dealt with over the phone and I won’t have to worry about running into Sean very often.”

“I’m sorry, Nikki.”

“It’s okay.” Nikki shook her head. “But when I think of how much you tried to deny what was staring you right in the face…”

“Well, you know how much I hate surprises.” Helen sighed. “Finding myself attracted to a woman was a hell of a surprise. Having her kiss me in her cell and liking it was an even bigger surprise. It just got worse from there, with one thing after another that I was forced to acknowledge, no matter how much I didn’t want to.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Well, it could have been a little less traumatic,” Helen said softly as she squeezed Nikki’s fingers, “but no, I don’t regret any of it. It brought me you.”

Helen shut the front door and ascended the short flight of stairs leading to the living room. Dropping her briefcase on the coffee table, she slipped out of her shoes and wriggled her toes before padding toward the kitchen. It had been a long day and she wanted nothing more than to grab a quick bite, curl up on the sofa with some wine, a good book and some music before she went off to bed. Or rather, that’s what she’d settle for. What she really wanted was to see Nikki, snuggle into her arms and stay there for as long as she could.

She blinked as she stepped into the kitchen. There was a warm odor of something savory in the oven, and the small table by the window had been set for two, complete with a single rose in a vase. Bewildered, she glanced around, and then peered through the glass of the back door, spotting a figure moving about the potting shed in the garden.

A wide smile spread across her face and she started for the door, paused, went back for her shoes, and then headed outside. Dressed in blue jeans and a pink golfshirt that left her arms bare, Nikki was working at the bench, doing something with the pots and assorted bulbs. She glanced over her shoulder as Helen’s shadow blocked the light coming in through the door.

“Hiya,” she greeted, smiling.

“What are you doing here?”

“Potting some plants.”

Helen stepped into the shed, squinting a little as her eyes adjusted to the dim illumination inside. “No, I meant… I didn’t know you were coming over tonight.”

Nikki shrugged. “Well, the construction guys were becoming a little tired of me looking over their shoulders every minute. I discovered I only have to show up periodically to kick their respective arses. I went round the club at three to help Trish open, and then I figured I’d come over and make you dinner.”

Elated, Helen wrapped her arms around Nikki’s waist from behind. “Is this what I have to look forward to now?”

“Well, some evenings at any rate.” Nikki leaned back a little as Helen rested her chin on her shoulder. “Dinner should be ready soon.”

“I noticed it as I came through the kitchen,” Helen said, hugging her tightly. “It smells fantastic.” She burrowed her nose into the side of Nikki’s neck, detecting her perfume and the spicy scent that was uniquely hers, feminine and warm. “Mmm, so do you.”

“Well, you can eat me after dinner.” Nikki said dryly as she finished up what she was doing with the pot in her hand. “By the way, I like your outfit.”

Helen wondered if Nikki was winding her up a bit. She was wearing one of her ‘power suits’, the dark blazer, matching skirt, simple blouse and the sensible shoes that were typical for working at the Home Office. “I’m sure you’ve seen me in this before.”

“I have. You used to wear it at Larkhall during your first year.” Nikki turned her head sideways, trying to see Helen. “In fact, this whole thing is starting to bring back memories. You in that suit, me in a potting shed. Of course, you never came up behind me and hugged me like this…except in my fantasies.”

Suddenly intrigued, Helen squeezed lightly. “Just what kind of fantasies were those?”

“You know what kind.” Nikki put down the pot, slipped off her gloves and turned around. Tilting her head slightly, her gaze raked Helen up and down. “Yeah, this is bringing back old times, especially since you’ve stopped highlighting your hair.”

Helen lifted a brow. “You didn’t like me as a blonde?”

“'Course I did,” Nikki murmured as she wrapped her arms around Helen and pulled her close. “I’m just reliving the past, and it’s a lot more fun this time around.” She paused, her lips mere millimeters away from Helen’s. “I don’t believe I ever had the chance to kiss you in the potting shed.”

Helen gazed up at the beloved features. “No, but you made me touch your breast.”

“Yeah, that’s me all over, smooth as silk when romancing a girl.” Nikki’s tone was deathly ironic.

Helen laughed low. “Would you like to kiss me in the potting shed now?”

“Why, Miss Stewart, aren’t you afraid we’ll get caught?”

Abruptly, there was an insolent note in Nikki’s voice, very reminiscent of the inmate Helen first knew, and her body responded immediately, her nipples hardening against the material of her blouse. The musty odor of fertilizer and peat was the same here as it was in the shed at Larkhall, and even the interior was set up in a similar fashion. It didn’t take much of an effort to imagine being back in that time.

She pressed against Nikki who was leaning against the bench, nudging a thigh between her legs. “No one knows we’re in here,” she whispered huskily.

There was a sudden hitch in Nikki’s breathing in reaction to Helen’s willingness to continue the game. “We don’t have much time,” she muttered convincingly. “They’ll be calling for lockup soon.”

“Then we’d better hurry,” Helen told her.

She kissed her, her mouth hungry and urgent, and Nikki returned it with passionate demand, both caught up in the fantasy now as they caressed each other through their clothes. Undoing Helen’s blouse quickly, there was the sound of a button popping off to hit the wooden floor, rolling away to be lost forever. A brief fumble at the catch of her bra released it and then Nikki’s hands were on Helen’s breasts, fondling them aggressively in a way not usually present in their lovemaking. It was extremely arousing, and Helen found she could scarcely catch her breath as she clung to her lover.

Somehow, without pausing in her fervent caresses, Nikki turned them around so that Helen was against the bench. Using a bit of leverage, she managed to lift Helen up onto the wooden planks where she teetered precariously on the makeshift perch. Gripping Nikki’s shoulders tightly for support, Helen gasped as Nikki ran her hand beneath the skirt, slipping along the inside of her thighs. The tights offered little impediment as the inmate ripped away the nylon, granting her access to the heat between the wing governor’s legs. Shuddering as Nikki rubbed her vigorously through her panties, Helen moaned loudly, unable to resist the maddening sensation. Then the undergarment was summarily pushed aside to allow entry into her wetness, and she had to press her face into Nikki’s neck to muffle her cry as the invading fingers pushed into her deeply. She rode the skillful hand hard, completely surrendering to the long, lingering thrusts and the thumb pressing rhythmically on her clit. An explosive climax seized her with powerful demand and shook her roughly, leaving her limp in Nikki’s arms.

Heart pounding as she gulped for breath, Helen felt absurdly helpless and vulnerable while the aftershocks rippled through her. The sense that they were really in Larkhall lingered with powerful suggestion; of shamelessly indulging in an illicit tryst that crossed the final line into forbidden territory. Nikki held her tight, gentle now as she whispered soft endearments, kissing Helen's face and throat tenderly, hands loving on her body beneath her clothes.

This was exactly how it would be, Helen thought dazedly. Even at the risk of being caught, Nikki wouldn’t push her away in the aftermath of their encounter, no matter how quickly the time was ticking away. She would have made it clear how much she cherished her for as long as it took.

Slowly, Helen came back to the present, to the sound of the wind in the trees outside, to the hum of an occasional car on the street out front and the high, piping voices of children playing somewhere in the neighborhood. There were no walls here, no barred doors or iron gates. No deterrent from being with the woman she loved.

“Wow,” she muttered shakily. “That was incredible.”

“Forbidden fruit’s always the sweetest, darling.” Nikki nibbled her ear.

Helen drew back to kiss her mouth, long and lingeringly. “Those were my best pair of tights.”

“I’ll buy you another pair.”

Helen slipped her hand up to Nikki’s breast, but she eased back, away from the caress. Perplexed, Helen looked in her eyes. “Sweetheart?”

“I have to see about dinner.”

Helen wouldn’t let it go, or her, continuing to maintain her tight embrace. “What is it?” Her accent slurred the query almost into a single word. “What’s the matter?”

Nikki exhaled audibly, looking vaguely sheepish. “Sorry, darling. The deeper we were into the fantasy, the worse it got. I kept looking over my shoulder. You left the door wide open and all I could think about was Bodybag sticking her ugly puss in here. Tremendously off-putting to say the least…especially when I imagined her head exploding when she saw us.”

Helen laughed, startled by the image. “Okay, next time I’ll remember to shut the door behind me.” She paused. “Did you ever…”

“In the potting shed?” Nikki was amused. “With who?”

“I saw you…” She trailed off uncertainly.

“Huh?”

“When I was acting governor, I was looking out my window one day.” Helen lowered her eyes in embarrassment. “I watched you and Caroline go inside the shed. You didn’t come out for about thirty minutes.”

Nikki stared at her for a few seconds, and then laughed out loud. “You were stalking me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Helen tilted her head. “Well?”

“Nothing happened, Helen. She was flirting, yes, but I wasn’t into her at that point. We didn’t even kiss.” She pressed her lips against Helen’s, and then drew back to meet her gaze squarely. “Seriously, darling, the most exciting thing that ever happened to me in the potting shed at Larkhall was you grabbing my left tit.”

Helen let out her breath, relieved.

“And that time with the Julies.” Nikki slipped out of Helen’s embrace, pausing briefly to pick up her gloves before heading out the door.

“What?”

Helen hopped down off the bench, stopped to rearrange her clothing into some kind of order, brushing futilely at the potting soil smeared across the back of her skirt and chased after Nikki, finally catching up to her in the kitchen.

“The Julies?” Helen’s tone was incredulous.

Nikki, washing her hands under the kitchen faucet, shot her a smile. “It wasn’t like that, darling. We were brewing up some Chateau Larkhall.” At Helen’s mystified look, she clarified. “Making booze.”

“Nikki!” Helen was horrified. “You had a still in the shed?”

“Do you want to hear this or do you want to keep pretending you’re the wing governor?”

“Go ahead.”

Nikki’s eyes raked over her. “You might want to change your clothes. And comb your hair. I’ll tell you the rest over dinner.” She reached over and tugged on her blouse. Helen hadn’t exactly been precise when she was straightening up, and not only was it buttoned wrong, with one left over at the bottom, the missing button in the middle left a distinct gap that revealed a good portion of her cleavage, freed from the dangling bra.

Flushing, Helen shot her a poisonous look, which fazed Nikki not at all, and left the kitchen. After cleaning up and changing into more comfortable clothes, Helen returned to the kitchen, carrying the shredded remains of her tights.

“How’d you do this?” she demanded. “I can’t rip this material at all, yet you went right through it.”

Amused, Nikki glanced over from where she was setting the dish of fettuccini on the table. “You already had a run on the inside of your thigh, darling. I just used it. Otherwise, I'd had to wrestle them off you.” She took a seat and offered a sassy grin. “So technically, I really don’t owe you a pair since those were already ruined, but I’ll buy you some because you were so bloody good out there.”

“Cheeky sod,” Helen muttered as she stepped on the pedal of the garbage bin to open it, dropping the damaged garment inside. Settling at the opposite end of the table, she still felt a bit off balance from their heated encounter. Her body was acutely sensitized at the moment, and she realized why she had never indulged while they were in Larkhall. While Nikki seemed to have taken it in stride, completely composed once it was over, Helen was overcome with an incredible craving to do it again as soon as possible. She could scarcely wait for dinner to be over so she could drag Nikki to bed and make love to her for the rest of the night. Nikki seemed to know exactly what she was thinking and favored her with a lazy smile filled with promise.

Helen took a deep breath, trying to bring her contrary body back under control. “What were you saying about the Julies?”

“They managed to get their hands on some fruit and sugar one day and decided to turn it into wine.” Nikki smiled faintly at the memory. “Julie S and I were in the potting shed making it when Bodybag came sniffing around. We had barely enough warning from Julie J, who was keeping watch outside, to whip off our shirts and pretend to be having it off when Hollamby opened the door.”

“She didn't put you on report?”

Nikki made a dismissive face. “For copping a feel? C'mon Helen, if the screws wrote it up every time they caught some of the girls doing that, they'd never have time for anything else. It wasn't like we'd be punished for it, and Bodybag hated filling out paperwork anyway. You know how lazy she was.”

“Fruit and sugar aren't enough to make wine,” Helen pointed out in a practical tone.

“Dockley contributed some yeast tablets, I contributed the watering can that I sterilized with some tablets the Julies had...it was a collaborative effort. I stuck it in the compost heap to ferment for four weeks, and at the end of it, they used it for Spencer's wake.” A brief shadow crossed Nikki's eyes as she thought of Monica Lindsay’s deceased son who'd suffered from Down's syndrome. “They all had wicked hangovers the next day.”

“You didn't?”

“Christ, I wouldn't drink that crap. I saw how it was made.”

“Then why...” Helen began, then stopped.

Nikki shrugged. “They asked me and it was something to do. Couldn’t waste all my time chasing you about.”

“I'm glad you never caught me. One session like that in the potting shed and I'd have been done for.”

“You're not very good at covering up, are you? Even if you did manage to straighten out your clothes, anyone would figure out what you were up to just from the ‘freshly fucked' look on your face.”

“And the fact that I wouldn't have let you go back to your cell. You'd have been in my office all night.”

Nikki looked rather intrigued at the comment and Helen wondered if another fantasy would play out in her future. She really had to remember to wear her power suits more often when Nikki was about.

 

Nikki opened her eyes about a half hour before the alarm went off. Sighing quietly in pleasure, she luxuriated in the warm body pressed against her side. Helen was still deeply asleep, her features relaxed and peaceful. Tucking a random strand of chestnut hair behind her ear, Nikki was careful not to disturb her, feeling such a wave of love and tenderness wash over her that it almost made her cry.

“Ma wee burd,” she whispered softly. She'd never dare call Helen that when she was awake. She'd undoubtedly take offense, either at the 'wee' or the 'bird', which was considered somewhat common…or possibly the poor attempt at a Scottish accent.

Lying there in the coolness of early morning, Nikki's mind was crowded with memories of too many days that began with the slamming of cell doors and the strident voices of guards demanding she get up. The sheets would be stiff there, not this warm cotton, soft against her skin, while the blanket over her would be scratchy, and not a comfortable duvet that smelled freshly laundered. And she definitely wouldn't have a beautiful woman plastered against her so tightly that it was difficult to tell where she left off and Helen began.

Nikki smiled fondly. Her little bird was definitely a cuddler. No matter how far apart they might start the night, she was inevitably wrapped around Nikki by morning. It had been a bit of an adjustment for Nikki who tended to like her space when she slept, but eventually, she'd grown used to the soft weight against her. Now she had a little trouble going to sleep when Helen wasn't in the bed next to her.

The glowing digital numbers changed to 6:00 and Helen’s radio came on, turned low so that it wouldn't jolt her awake. There was a soft intake of breath, a small sound midway between protest and resignation as Helen stirred, snuggling instinctively into the body lying next to her. Nikki smiled again and hugged her, truly gratified that she'd been granted this precious time to watch her beloved wake up.

“Good morning.”

Helen's lips curved upward at the corners, her eyes still closed. “It is with you here. God, I'd love to stay in bed with you all day.”

“That would be lovely, but we both need to get up. They're delivering the new stoves today.”

Helen blinked finally, forcing open her eyelids as she focused on Nikki. “Stoves? How many do you need?”

“Oh, one for the cafe, and another for the flat upstairs,” Nikki said with studied casualness, annoyed at her slip.

“There's a flat?”

“Didn't I mention that? The previous owner lived up there. It was pretty disgusting but we've decided to redo it at the same time we do over the cafe.”

Helen rolled over onto her back and stretched luxuriously. “Are you going to rent it out?” Her tone was mildly interested, no more, much to Nikki’s relief.

“Probably.” It wasn't quite a lie. The expense of maintaining it would be taken out of Nikki's personal funds, not the cafe's business account. “You should come by some Saturday and look at how far the renovations have come. You wouldn't recognize the place.”

Helen offered a sideways glance. “You've probably taken away all the charm.”

“If you mean we scrubbed away fifty years of dirt, then yeah, we have.” Nikki replied evenly to her teasing. “We also put down a new floor and repainted. There'll be plants and clean tables. It's shocking.”

Helen rolled over, wrapping her arms around Nikki. “I'm sorry, sweetheart,” she said with honest regret. “I haven't shown as much interest in this as I should. I'm so happy that we have more time to spend together that I've overlooked how difficult starting a new business can be.” She touched Nikki's chin lightly with her fingertips. “Are you happy about this? Managing a cafe, I mean?”

Nikki thought about it. “Well, it probably won't be as exciting as the club, but it'll give me a chance to meet people, and I like the idea of serving food rather than drinks.”

Helen regarded her soberly. “I want to talk about this further with you, but I don't have the time right now. Will you be here tonight?”

“I don't know,” Nikki replied honestly. “I'll try, but with everything that's going on, I don't want to make promises I can't keep. I will promise to call you tonight no matter what. Is that okay?”

“Of course, it is.” Helen kissed her sweetly. “I love you, Nikki. I realize how hard you’re working to make this happen. I want you to know how grateful I am. It means a lot.”

Nikki squeezed her lightly. “It’ll work out. I promise.”

While Helen was busy in the bathroom, Nikki slipped out to the kitchen and prepared breakfast. She hoped that Helen wasn't getting the idea that she was particularly domestic by nature, though she had to admit that she enjoyed cooking for her. Especially since she'd discovered Helen was somewhat inept in the kitchen, living on takeout, instant meals and a few simple dishes that she could prepare when pressed. Nikki, on the other hand, had always enjoyed cooking and delighted in the freedom to try new things after five years of prison food.

Helen was properly appreciative when she came out in her robe to fresh squeezed orange juice and an omelet. “You're far too good to me,” she said happily as she sat down.

After eating, Nikki took over the bathroom while Helen did her makeup at the vanity in the bedroom. Once showered, Nikki threw on a pair of slim black jeans and a red t-shirt with the Chix logo emblazed across it in white. She smiled when she saw Helen dressed in yet another of her 'power suits'. Those outfits always made Nikki want to jump on her, undoubtedly a leftover from Larkhall when she was prohibited from even touching her. Even now, it was all she could do to keep from walking up behind Helen, wrapping her arms around her and unbuttoning the blouse so she could caress the lovely full breasts. Helen must have been watching her in the mirror as she did her makeup because she immediately rose from the chair and turned around.

“Don't look at me like that,” she demanded quietly.

Nikki smiled crookedly. “Like what?”

“Like you're about to pounce on me because it wouldn't take much for me to let it happen.”

“Even after making love for half the night?”

“Especially after making love last night. I know exactly what I'm turning down.”

Nikki laughed and walked over to her, slipping her arms possessively around her waist.

“Nikki, don’t...” The tone was warning, but a little helpless as well; as if Helen was afraid Nikki would discover how little resistance she really had when it came to her.

 Taking her time, Nikki kissed her, concentrating completely on the touch of Helen's lips and how amazing it felt to have her in her arms. Helen made a small hungry sound in the back of her throat, pressing against her, and after several moments that passed too quickly, Nikki finally released her.

“Have a good day at work, darling.”

Helen's voice was unsteady. “You too, sweetheart.”

Nikki picked up her leather jacket as Helen turned back to the vanity to repair her makeup, mussed from the affectionate farewell. Out on the street, beneath overcast skies, Nikki went to her car. She started it but didn’t drive away immediately. Instead, she waited until Helen appeared, rushing as always because she was a few minutes late. She didn’t even notice that the Boxter was still there, and Nikki grinned when the red Peugeot pulled away from the curb with a tiny squeal of tires.

Taking the side streets to avoid the heaviest of the traffic, Nikki finally pulled into the car park down the street from the club. Noticing that Trisha’s BMW was still parked there, she frowned, aware that this was far too early for anyone to be at the club under normal circumstances. She decided to stop by to make sure nothing was wrong.

Inside the quiet club, Nikki walked across the polished floor. There didn't seem to be anyone around but just to be sure, she opened the door of the office. Trisha was seated behind the desk, staring blankly at the bottle of whiskey and a glass in front of her.

“Little early in the morning, isn't it?” Nikki took a seat in the opposing chair.

“Is it morning already?”

Nikki studied her for a moment. “What's going on, Trish?”

At first, she didn't think she was going to answer. Then Trisha let out her breath in a slow expulsion. “Claire asked me out last night.”

“And that's thrown you so much that you're sitting alone in the dark drinking?”

“I haven't been drinking. I've only been thinking about it.”

“Ah.” Nikki had to admit the glass did look clean. “So what is it about Claire asking you out? You must have seen it coming.”

“I did.” Trisha lowered her lashes. “I just didn't want it to happen.”

“You don't find her attractive?”

“Of course, I do, 'Nik.” Trisha reached out, but she didn't pick up the bottle. She just toyed with the glass. “I think she's bloody fantastic. That's the problem.”

“Maybe I'm being dense here, but I'm not seeing it.”

“I don't want to be her rebound girl, 'Nik. I don't want to be the one that she uses to get over Heather, and when she's done, she moves on to who she really wants.”

“Have you told her that?”

“What good would it do? The person on the rebound never thinks of the next one as the rebound girl, until she's moved on.”

Nikki put her feet up on the desk. “Well, Helen could be considered my rebound girl. I only started looking at her after you broke up with me, but we're still together, three years later, even after all we’ve been through.”

“That’s true.” A somewhat hopeful expression crossed Trisha’s face. “So you think I should give it a go?”

“What did you tell Claire last night when she asked you out?”

The brilliant blue eyes darkened. “God, I put her off, telling her that my hours made it hard to date. I didn't say yes or no, exactly, just that I'd try to work it out.”

“I think you should talk to her about why you're worried. Seriously, how can she be upset that you don't want to go out with her because you like her too much?”

“It sounds stupid the way you say it.”

Nikki laughed. “Of course, it’s stupid. That’s what dating is about, making a complete fool of yourself.”

“Jesus, 'Nik.”

Nikki swallowed back her laughter when she saw Trisha was honestly exasperated with her. It made her realize the whole Claire situation was a more sensitive issue with her than she'd anticipated. “C'mon, Trish, it's not exactly the end of the world here. You like her, she obviously likes you...take a chance. You'll never know until you do.”

“But what if we blow a perfectly good relationship because we moved too quickly?”

“What if you blow it because you don't move at all?”

“God, do you know how long it's been since I dated?”

Nikki had never asked for, nor wanted any details about the woman Trisha had become involved with when Nikki was two years into her sentence at Larkhall; the woman who’d caused them to end their relationship. Trisha apparently knew what she was thinking about because a pained expression crossed her face.

“I never really told you about Joan.”

Nikki managed a weak smile. “Didn’t particularly need to know.”

“Yeah, well, we didn't really date, ‘Nik. We were...it just happened.”

“You said I wouldn't know her?”

“You don't. She came into the club one night with a bunch of others. She was smart and beautiful and sophisticated. A doctor. She came on to me...” Trisha exhaled slowly. “I was so lonely, Nikki. It felt good to be wanted again, even if it was only for the one night.”

“Hey, I never expected you to take an oath of celibacy.”

Trisha's gaze met hers. “To be fair, when I tried to tell you about it, you said you already had someone on the inside.”

“I lied. I was just trying to make it easier for you.” Nikki shrugged, a little embarrassed. “And for me. I didn't want to look pathetic.”

 “Oh, Nikki.” Trisha seemed torn between amusement and despair. “I called up Joan after that because I thought you had been working your way through the prison. I stuck it out with her for six months, but it wasn't really a relationship. She just called me up whenever she needed a quick shag.”

“Oh.” Nikki winced. “Sorry, Trisha. Honestly, except for that one night I escaped and was with Helen, I didn't...not with anyone for five years.”

“Christ, Nikki. Why didn't you just get mad at me and we could have had it out right then?”

“Because you asked me not to get angry with you!” Nikki knew her voice had risen and with an effort, she toned it down. “Look, I was going to be in there for ten years...at least, that's what I thought it was at the time. And it turned out to be a whole lot more, fifteen or twenty if I hadn't gone for the appeal. There was no way I could ask you to wait that long. It wasn't fair.”

A silence fell between them. “None of it was fair,” Trisha said finally, in a sad voice.

“It all worked out the way it was supposed to, Trish. We have to keep telling ourselves that.” Trisha nodded, looking supremely unconvinced, and Nikki forced a smile. “Hey, Claire's really terrific. I think you two will work out fine.”

“I hope so.” Trisha's eyes met hers. They were shiny with unshed tears. “You're the first person I ever really loved, 'Nik.”

Nikki felt a lump in her throat. “I know. You were that for me, too. We'll always have that, Trish. No matter what happens, or who else we love, it's always going to be there between us. It's just...well, life goes on. We go on.”

“I suppose so.”

“You're over me now, aren't you, Trish?”

Trisha shot her a sharp look. “What do you mean?”

“You're not dithering with Claire because you think we still have a chance?”

“Don't be stupid, 'Nik. I know what we had is over.”

Nikki persisted. “It's just...you've bent over backwards since I got out, with the club and now the cafe...”

Trisha stared at her. “Is that why you think I'm helping you out? Christ, Nikki, do you remember what you did for me? You saved me from being raped. You probably even saved my life. Do you think I'll ever be able to pay that back?”

Nikki felt a sudden twist inside as she was forced to look at things in a completely different manner. She, too, was in the position of feeling she owed someone more than she could ever hope to repay, and in that instant, she understood Helen's consternation when she'd used that argument to make her accept the expensive laptop computer she'd given her a few months earlier. More importantly, she finally understood what Helen had tried to explain to her in return.

“Don't think like that, Trish,” she said, desperately searching for the right words. “I did what I did because I chose to do it. You don't owe me a thing. The things we do...we do them for love.” She met Trisha's gaze squarely, feeling a warmth and affection for her that was completely unlike but just as strong, as what she felt for Helen.

 “Love never keeps a tally, babes. It just is.”

 

Helen locked her car door and spared a glance at the charcoal colored BMW parked next to her. It was too early for Trisha to be at the club on this Saturday morning, so she was probably at the cafe with Nikki. She wondered how they managed to get by on such irregular hours. Nikki continued to show up unexpectedly at all times of the day and night at Helen's flat while she worked at both the club and on the renovations at the café, yet never seemed tired. Helen supposed that Trisha was managing to do the same.

She chose not to examine how she felt about Nikki working so closely with her ex-girlfriend. Nikki said she loved her and that should be more than enough reassurance for her. But every so often, she remembered all the history that existed between them, and the fact that Trisha looked rather devastating in a power suit herself. Exhaling slowly, she wondered if she was rooting for Claire and Trisha to get together because it would be a good relationship for them both, or the knowledge that if Trisha had Claire, she would no longer be so available for Nikki.

She paused a moment on the pavement outside the cafe. The plain and basic double glass doors had been replaced with elegant French doors painted a soft blue. The stark plate glass windows on either side, normally covered with grime, had been cleaned to sparkling transparencies and fitted with wooden grids painted a matching blue that softened their appearance, making them appear as windows possessing several small panes. It was a far cry from the bleak appearance it had boasted before.

Opening the door, she was greeted by the noise of skill saws, hammers, nail guns, and over it all, men and women shouting at each other. One of the workers, a diminutive, stocky woman with olive skin, short dark hair and a rather engaging smile looked up at the Scotswoman standing in the doorway.

“Oi, looking for someone?”

“Nikki Wade.”

The woman jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Back in the office. Mind the cords.”

Carefully, Helen picked her way through the minefield of electric extension cords, bits of lumber and temporarily inert power tools. There was plastic down on the floor and through it, Helen could see that the grimy checked black-and-white tile had been replaced by either marble, or something that looked like marble, alternating blue, gray, navy and white tiles to form a larger pattern. The glass display case where she used to pick up her bagels and Danish had been replaced by a natural maple counter with a bluish granite countertop, while the walls had been painted a soft gray that matched the flooring. It all looked cool and chic, and she could easily imagine little tables dotting the area, populated with sophisticated lipstick lesbians and people in business suits enjoying lunch away from the office.

A small hallway behind the counter led between the kitchen on one side, where most of the current work seemed concentrated, and the redone ladies and gents on the other. At the far end of the corridor was a door, and by process of elimination, Helen supposed that this had to be the office. She knocked lightly, and then opened it, realizing it was unlikely anyone inside would be able to hear her over the noise of reconstruction. Nikki was seated behind a desk, intently studying the blueprints spread out over it as she made marks with her pencil. Beside her, Trisha stood a little too close for Helen's comfort as she listened to Nikki's explanation of what she was planning to do, her hand resting casually on her shoulder. Both lifted their heads as the door opened and Nikki's brown eyes lightened perceptibly when she identified the visitor.

“Hiya, darling. Ready for your tour?”

Helen smiled. “Doesn't quite look like it's ready for one.”

Nikki and her business partner exchanged an undecipherable look and then Trisha smiled at Helen. “Well, the bathrooms are done, and so is the upstairs. There's enough for you to get an idea of what Nikki's planning.”

“I reckon I will.” She felt a twinge as Trisha put her arm around Nikki's shoulders, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

“I have to go. I'm meeting Claire for lunch.”

“Good luck.”

Trisha favored Helen with a smile as she brushed by. “Cheers.”

“Say 'hi' to Claire for me.”

“I will.”

Trisha shut the door behind her, shutting out the racket, and Helen pinned Nikki with an expectant look. “Upstairs? You mean that flat you were talking about?”

Nikki smiled, and for some reason, Helen was immediately suspicious, though she didn’t quite know why. There was just something a little too innocent about it that set off a tiny jangle of alarm at the back of her mind. She hadn’t been in the prison system for as long as she had not to have developed some instincts.

“Not just the flat,” Nikki said as she stood up. “There's also a large storage area right above us.”

“Well, that sounds exciting.” Helen's tone was so deadpan that Nikki winced.

“C'mon, Helen, it's a cafe, what did you expect?”

Helen came around the desk, immediately regretting her cheek. “You're right, sweetheart, I'm sorry. This is very exciting.” She wrapped her arms around Nikki's waist. “I can't wait to see how you've redone everything.”

Nikki lifted her chin, apparently not appeased by the apology. “I don't think you deserve a personal tour, after all.”

Helen kissed her throat, nuzzling it lightly. “I'm a horrible woman,” she murmured. “What can I do to make it up to you?” She ran her hands over Nikki's back, stroking lightly through the thin material of her short-sleeved top.

“I'm thinking.”

Helen grinned, quite familiar with this game. Pressing closer to her, she enjoyed the cushion of Nikki's breasts against her own, and the warmth of the lanky body in her arms. “I want you.” Her tongue tickled Nikki's earlobe.

There was a catch in Nikki's breath. “Well, you’ll have to wait a bit.”

“Oh, Yeah?”

Daringly, Helen slipped her hands under Nikki's shirt, fingertips gentle on the smooth skin of her back. Nikki, obviously having accepted Helen's apology at this point, dipped her head and they kissed, long and slow and wonderfully provocative. Neither heard the door open, though the embarrassed sound of someone clearing their throat made them jump apart so abruptly that Helen nearly fell backward over the desk onto the blueprints. Nikki had to reach out and steady her.

It was the female construction worker from outside. “Uh, sorry, Nikki, but we were just wondering where you wanted the new tables. There’s a lorry outside.” Helen noticed that she was looking at the pair of them with a bit of envy and immediately pegged her as part of the sisterhood, or at least, wanting to be.

Nikki bit off a curse. “Christ, I thought they weren't supposed to arrive until Monday. We'll have to store them upstairs for the time being.” She shot a look at Helen. “Sorry, darling. The tour will have to be delayed a little.”

Helen, managing to recover from her near tumble, offered a smile. “No problem. I'll help.”

“Really? That’s great.” Nikki grinned and threw her arm around her shoulders. “I'm glad you wore jeans.”

Helen was glad of it as well, after an hour of helping the two delivery guys, and the female construction worker who introduced herself as 'Danielle', carry small tables and chairs to the upper floor where Nikki placed them in a spare corner. They weren't particularly heavy, but they were awkward and carrying them up the staircase was hard work. Helen was perspiring freely by the end of it. Once the last chair had been stored away and everyone else had disappeared back down the stairs, Nikki came over to where Helen was peering out one of the front windows to the street below.

“About that tour,” she muttered as she slipped her arms around her waist from behind.

Helen leaned back into the embrace, appreciating the sensation of Nikki's body against her back. “Nice view from up here.”

“It's even better from the flat.”

Helen entwined her fingers with Nikki's hands that were resting on her belly. “This is a fairly upscale neighborhood, Nikki. Has it always been like this?”

“No, when Trish and I started Diva's, the place wasn't exactly a war zone but a person had to be careful to stick to the main streets at night. Real estate was cheap, though, and it wasn't just us moving in, but a lot of other people with shops and businesses.” She shook her head, her tone faintly amused. “It wasn't easy those early years. Trish and I thought the bank would take us over at any moment. It was a wonder they took a chance on a gay bar to begin with. You think my flat is small now, you should have seen it when both Trish and I were living in it. We barely had room to breathe.”

Helen hadn't known that Nikki had once shared the flat with Trisha. “Is that why you like living there now?” She tried for a light tone and apparently didn't quite manage it because Nikki squeezed her lightly.

“There are some really good memories in the place,” Nikki told her quietly. “That's why I asked Trish to get it ready for me when I was released. I needed those memories, because as far as I knew, you were just a memory as well, and not one I was sure I could stand living with on my own.”

Helen felt her heart catch at the pain, ever so faint, that still lingered beneath the words. She turned around in Nikki's embrace and hugged her tightly. “Nikki, I...”

“Shh, it's okay, Helen,” Nikki interrupted gently as she tangled her fingers in the chestnut hair. “It all worked out. It's just...Trisha and I were together for years, and there were a lot of good times for us. That doesn't take anything away from what you and I now share.”

“I know. I'm not exactly jealous. I actually like Trisha.” Helen searched for a way to explain her complex feelings when it came to Nikki's ex. “It's just that...playing the field when you were young was one thing, but you were in love with Trisha. She has a piece of your heart that I’ll never be able to touch. While I understand and accept that, it’s a constant reminder that you had this whole other life before me. “

Nikki laughed quietly, her breath ruffling Helen's hair. “I wasn't always in Larkhall, you know. It just felt like it.” They held each other for a while before Nikki squeezed her lightly. “Ready for the rest of the tour?”

“Is it more exciting than this lovely storage area that you've already put me to work in?”

Nikki's expression suddenly became inscrutable. “Oh, I think you'll find it rather interesting.”

Upstairs, Helen faltered as Nikki opened the scarred wooden door and led her into the flat. She hadn’t known what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this. She was in a small foyer, with white marble tile veined in black beneath her feet, the walls painted an off white. To her left, a door opened into a small half bath, new toilet and sink gleaming amid a black and white checked tile floor and matching walls. Directly in front of her, isolating the foyer from the rest of the flat, a frosted glass etching of a rose in an oval ran from floor to ceiling, bisecting the entrance arch.

Walking past the glass that was really a piece of art rather than a divider, Helen discovered a staircase that ran up to the second level. Turning to her left, a kitchen of glass, black appliances and cabinetry was neatly organized, and left open to the rest of the flat. The breakfast bar with stools was adjacent to a dining area backlit by large windows along the front wall. Large windows also dominated the living area, letting in bright sunshine, and showing off wood flooring stained so blond it was almost white, complimented by the cream-colored walls. A huge built-in entertainment center ran along the side of the staircase, the shelves empty and waiting for electronic equipment, outlets conveniently placed every few shelves to prevent the need for extension cords. At the far wall, a small gas fireplace had been constructed like a piece of art, ready for the first lighting.

Helen knew her mouth had fallen open but she seemed unable to close it.

Nikki took her elbow gently. “C'mon,” she said with a smile. “Let me show you the bedroom.”

Tucked in the small hallway by the staircase, there was a door that led to a large bedroom painted a soft blue with a slate bluish-gray carpet that provided thick cushioning underfoot. Another door led to the adjoined ensuite, boasting a large whirlpool tub, a roomy shower with sparkling tile, and a nice long vanity setup with two sinks. The toilet was separated from the tub by a half wall made of glass blocks topped with a narrow counter perfect for candles or flowers.

Going out the other door to the hall, Nikki led Helen up the staircase to the second level. Here was a pleasant loft space with bookcases along the walls, the wood matching the polished oak wood floor and French doors that led outside to the roof. The guest bedroom was half the size of the master suite downstairs, but still of respectable dimensions, and there was even another bathroom that, although lacking the spaciousness of the main one downstairs, still boasted a three-piece tub and shower combination, along with a vanity sink and toilet, accessible from both the bedroom and the loft area.

Taking Helen's hand, Nikki pulled open the French doors and led her out into a lovely rooftop garden, the setting sun softening the deep green of the potted trees, the bright red of the climbing roses and the various bins full of flowering bushes that lined the buildings on either side. There was a cast iron table and chair set offering a place to linger, while nearby, a small fountain waterfall provided a melodic counterpoint of trickling water.

“You'll have to charge a tremendous amount of rent, sweetheart,” Helen muttered dazedly as she wandered through the artfully arranged plants. She was having difficulty taking it all in. There was so much to see. “This is absolutely incredible.”

Nikki took a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve decided not to rent it out, darling. I'm going to live here.”

“And I would like you to live here with me.”

“Live here?” Helen’s tone was incredulous as she whirled to face Nikki. “I thought you were going to move into my flat.”

“I never said I’d do that.”

 It was obvious that Helen had been taken completely off guard and required a few moments to assimilate this new reality being presented to her. Biting her tongue Nikki took a seat on one of the garden chairs and waited patiently. One of Helen’s strongest attributes was her determination and strength of purpose when setting a goal and carrying it out. It stood her in good stead for her job, but it was not always such an appealing trait in her personal life. Once she got an idea into her head, she tended to pursue it to the exclusion of all other things. Helen had made up her mind that Nikki was going to move in with her, and had been focusing all her attention on making it happen. Now she was faced with the knowledge that not only was she not going to achieve that goal, she might have to make some compromises in that area.

Steady on, Wade, Nikki thought to herself. Keenly aware of just how little Helen appreciated being thwarted in her pursuit of an objective, and how she liked being surprised even less; Nikki knew she had just managed both with a single comment. She also knew that she would have to work extra hard to keep her temper under control in the upcoming conversation because she suspected that Helen wouldn’t be nearly as accommodating.

Though she would certainly start off in a reasonable manner.

“Nikki, this is a beautiful flat, no question, but it has no garden.”

Nikki lifted her brows and glanced around at the profusion of green she’d worked so hard to create. “What do you call this?”

“It’s lovely…as lovely a rooftop as I’ve ever seen, but it’s not a place where you can dig and get your hands dirty. You can only arrange plants here, Nikki, not grow anything. I know how much you love gardening.”

Nikki laughed. “Helen, it’s not like you live on a bloody farm. I’ll do the same amount of planting in the bins on this rooftop that I’d ever do in the beds of your back garden.”

She supposed she shouldn’t have laughed. That had made Helen’s lips thin and her jaw tighten a little.

Her tone became brisk. “Why would you want to live over a business, a restaurant no less? Imagine the noise and the heat.”

“First of all, there’s an entire floor of storage beneath us, buffering any noise, and the heat is carried out the back by a venting system that, by the way, cost a packet. Secondly, the café won’t be open past three in the afternoon. It’s not like it’ll be drawing a crowd any other hours.”

Helen exhaled audibly, her gray green eyes darkening. “Nikki, you’re going to be living over your workplace. Every time there’s a problem, they’ll be calling you to handle it. There’ll be no getting away from it.”

“Helen, I want to be called if there’s a problem that my staff can’t handle. That’s what being in charge is all about. And anyway, if I do get called, it’s a hell of a lot more convenient to run downstairs than to hop in a car and fight traffic forty-five minutes just to get here.”

“What about the stairs? You have to walk up two flights just to get to your door.”

Nikki noticed that Helen was carefully not using the ‘we’ in any of her statements. So far, she was trying to convince Nikki why it was wrong for her to live here. She wasn’t yet touching upon why she didn’t want to live here.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, darling, but you have to crawl up a pack of concrete steps to get to your front door, and they’re all outside, exposed to the weather. Do you know what a pain in the ass it is to lug groceries upstairs in the rain? Here, there’s a dumbwaiter that runs from the café kitchen to the one in the flat. No more carrying anything upstairs at all if I don’t want to.”

Helen pursed her lips. “Nikki, you said yourself this area is a war zone.”

“Ten years ago! Now it’s a damned nice place to live. Better than your district. Or have you not noticed that groups of teenagers are starting to roam the streets in the evenings with too much time on their hands.”

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“I'm not, Helen. You ought to check out what's going on a few streets over sometime. Vandalism, fights, loud noise late at night…don't you ever talk to your neighbors?”

Helen stared at her, apparently stymied for the moment. Nikki didn't say anything. She just waited for the next round, keeping her expression mild and inquiring.

“Nikki, you shouldn't have assumed that I wanted to move.” There was a touch of annoyance in her voice.

“I don't assume anything,” Nikki said evenly. “I'm just asking you to move in with me. You certainly have no problem demanding I move in with you every other conversation.”

“That's different.”

“How?”

“Because you live in a tiny hole in the wall that's barely a step up from your cell in Larkhall.”

Nikki spread her arms out, indicating the spaciousness of their current surroundings. “You can't say that about this place.”

“I thought you said you wanted us to start from the beginning, find a place together.”

“That's why I brought you in today, Helen.” Nikki marshaled her argument. “Yes, I had the walls painted so I could show you what it could be like, but if you want something different, then it'll only take a day or two to manage. I still have the painter's phone number and they do good work, as you can see. If you’re not happy with the flooring, then we can stain it lighter or darker. If you want carpet or tile instead, say the word. We'll go pick it out and it can be put down over the hardwood floors. The carpet in the bedroom can easily be taken up and replaced. I did pick out the fixtures for the bathrooms, but they’re all in white so you can decorate the rest of the room any color you want. Don't like the taps? Takes about half a day to change them over to what you do want. There's absolutely nothing in this place that can't be altered to your specifications.”

She grinned suddenly. “That's the one thing with all these home improvement programs on the telly. It's shown people that it really doesn't take six weeks to redo a room...not when they can do one over in twenty-four hours, especially when you throw money at them. It's been absolute hell on the contractors, let me tell you.”

Helen's expression was starting to look a little trapped, and Nikki reminded herself not to show any amusement at that. Honestly, Helen wasn't used to someone calmly refuting every one of her arguments. She was the one normally dictating how things would be, particularly when it came to her personal life. Nikki wondered if, in her previous relationships, she chose men with precisely that in mind. Sean, despite his one big dramatic display at Larkhall where he burned his wedding suit, had always come across as rather easy going and amiable to Nikki the few times she'd encountered him. Even the confrontation at the garden center had been relatively low key, and to be fair to the man, considering the limited information he was working with, his outrage was somewhat understandable. But he certainly hadn't stuck around to cause any further trouble. Thomas Waugh, by the same token, had simply slipped off into the sunset without a backward glance, and he seemed like a fairly levelheaded guy whenever Nikki had spoken to him, which, admittedly, was not often.

But now Helen was involved with Nikki Wade, fiery, impulsive and as firm in her determination as she was. Not much wonder she wasn’t entirely sure how to react.

Noticing that the wind had picked up and clouds were scudding in from the west, Nikki motioned to the French doors. “Looks like rain. Let's go inside.”

Wordlessly, Helen followed Nikki into the loft. Nikki went over to the bookshelves and put a hand on one of the shelves. “I think there should be more than enough room here for your books and mine. Of course, I don't really have too many yet. While I was in Larkhall, I asked Trisha to donate all the ones I used to have to the local library.” She glanced back with a smile, looking at Helen who had her arms wrapped around her chest, as if she were cold. Nikki’s smile disappeared and she lifted her brows. “Darling, what's really going on?”

Helen frowned, eyes shifting nervously. “I don't know what you mean.”

Nikki felt her temper spark a little and fought it back. “I think you can admit this would be a great place to live. What's your real objection?”

“Nikki, I like where I live. I moved in there as soon as I graduated university.”

“How could you afford that?”

There was a hesitation and for a moment, Nikki didn't think she was going to answer. “Mum’s will left us...when she died, there was insurance. Most of it went to Dad, but she left an amount in trust for me. I used it as a down payment on the flat.”

Nikki let out her breath slowly. “Okay,” she said gently. “I understand now why the flat means a little more to you than just another place to live. But Helen, did you really think you were going to live there the rest of your life? That we would live there forever?”

Helen assumed a defensive expression. “Maybe.”

“I thought you said you wanted kids one day. There's not enough room there for kids.”

Helen set her jaw stubbornly. “I like the area, Nikki.”

“This is a nice area. Hell, there's a park just a street over, or didn't you notice it when you were out in the garden?” Nikki sensed her voice was rising and damped it down. “Helen, you'll be able to get a good price for your flat.”

That was absolutely the wrong thing to say. She knew it as soon as she saw the spark in the woman's eyes, deep in the jade depths.

“I don’t want to sell my flat.” Helen's voice was toneless and irrefutable.

“So, don’t,” Nikki offered, trying to regain her position of reason. “Rent it out. That’ll take care of the mortgage and probably your half of the housekeeping here. And if things don’t work out…” Nikki faltered a bit. She didn’t want to think about that possibility but she knew it was probably part of the reason why Helen was so resistant to moving in with her. “Well, then, you’ll always have it to go back to.” Nikki spread out her hands. “I don’t know why you’re objecting, Helen. This place is twice the size of your flat, it’s only ten minutes away from your job, and everything we could possibly want, shops, theater, the club, a film house, a restaurant, are all within walking distance. What’s the problem?”

“It’s not that simple, Nikki.”

“Then explain it to me, Helen.”

“I don’t have to justify anything to you.” The tone was unexpectedly sharp, as were the words, and Nikki felt the last of her patience erode away.

“That works both ways, darling. I'm moving in here.”

Helen returned her glare, eyes narrowed. “Fine. I hope you'll be very happy in your posh little world.”

Dismayed, Nikki watched as Helen whirled and stomped down the staircase. From below, she heard the door slam shut with a bang, and with a weary sigh she shook her head. Standing alone in her spacious flat, Nikki wondered if this was one aspect of their relationship where no compromise could be found.

 

Helen was in a foul mood when she went into the office on Monday. She hadn't seen Nikki since walking out on her on Saturday afternoon. On Sunday, she had swallowed enough pride to call, but Nikki informed her with cold politeness that she was busy with the café renovations and wouldn't be able to drive all the way down to South London. Helen slammed the phone down, leaving little doubt as to her feelings about it being the first Sunday they hadn't spent together since Nikki's release from Larkhall. Then she curled up on the sofa and cried.

In her heart, she knew she was being unreasonable. The flat was lovely, and Nikki had made it clear that she had no problem redecorating in any fashion that Helen wanted. But Helen just wasn't ready to give up her home. It meant too much to her. It was one of her last tenuous ties to her mother. Why couldn't Nikki understand that?

The small voice of reason Helen still possessed pointed out that Nikki did understand it and any professed tie to Isobel was merely an excuse, not the real reason she didn't want to move in with her. The way Helen felt about her mother would not change or become any less if she were living somewhere else.

As she forced herself through the never-ending paperwork that made up her job, she tried not to let her distraction force her into mistakes, but it was a losing battle. Her thoughts were never far from the woman she loved, and her inner disturbance was manifested by countless errors in a report that should have taken an hour but was instead, taking all morning. She just wished she could find the real reason for her reluctance to accept Nikki’s offer. She was completely right in proclaiming that the flat over the cafe was the superior residence in every way. It was more than spacious enough for two and certainly better located. Her early morning struggle through rush hour traffic on Helen’s way to work had been ample proof of that.

A tap at her door drew her from her dark thoughts, and she looked up to see Dominic standing in the doorway of her office. A boyishly handsome young man, he had worked with her at Larkhall before both ended up at the Unit, each taking different routes to their current position as program facilitators.

“Hey, Helen. Want to go for lunch?”

Helen blinked and glanced at the clock in the lower right corner of her computer screen. “Is it that late already?”

“Feel like Chinese?”

Helen wasn't particularly hungry, but she knew she had to get out of the office and think about something other than the argument she was having with Nikki. “Sounds good.”

The restaurant was located about three blocks from their office building. As Helen settled at the table, she found herself noticing her surroundings and comparing it to the way Nikki was setting up her cafe. When she was through looking around, she glanced across the table, a little disconcerted when she discovered Dominic staring at her with unusual intensity. At her expression, he blushed faintly and looked away.

“Sorry,” he muttered, “but I was just thinking that there's something going on with you. You seem a little off today.”

God, was it that obvious? She looked down at the table, not really wanting to talk about it with him, but allowing he was one of the few people familiar with her relationship with Nikki and most of the history behind it. Claire was fully involved with her own problems, and the last thing Helen wanted was to dump more onto her slender shoulders. So who else was left to talk to?

“Nikki and I are having a slight disagreement about our living arrangements.”

He immediately looked interested. “How so?”

Helen hesitated, and then decided if she was going to do this, she might as well go all the way. “She’s found this wonderful flat that she had done over and she wants us to move into it.”

“And you're not ready to move in together.”

Helen resisted a weary sigh. “No, I can't claim that, because I've been badgering her to move in with me for the past two months.”

“You don't want to give up your flat?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Helen gritted her teeth. What point lay in going over all the same reasons she’d offered to Nikki who had methodically shot down every single one of them? To have Dominic do it as well would be too much. “I just don't want to sell it.”

“Then don't. Rent it out. The income will take care of the mortgage and probably a little more.”

“That's what Nikki said.” Helen’s tone was tinged with more than exasperation. “It's not that easy, Dominic. I'd have to put out ads, go through God knows how many interviews with perspective tenants, somehow try to find one I can trust...it's so difficult to judge how a person will be as a tenant.”

“What about me?”

Startled, Helen stared at him. “What?”

Dominic shrugged. “I've been living with my parents since I got back from Greece and believe me, it's been no picnic. I've been thinking about getting my own place for a while but everywhere I've looked has either been a dive or too far away. But I've been to your flat, Helen. I really like it and it's even within walking distance to Mum's. Would you be interested in renting it to me?”

Helen was starting to feel like a fish that had just been hooked, thrashing about helplessly on the deck. Every avenue of escape was immediately closed, every objection she formulated immediately stymied by some neat and reasonable solution. She wanted to scream.

“I'll have to get back to you on that, Dom,” she managed somewhat lamely. “I haven't even decided if I'm moving in with Nikki.” She wasn't sure he bought it, but he shrugged lightly and changed the conversation to work related topics.

Her flat was silent when Helen walked into it hours later, and her almost choking sense of disappointment made her realize how much she was hoping Nikki would be there to make up…to make the first move when pride and pain made it impossible for Helen to do so. Disconsolately, she ascended the short flight of stairs and dropped her briefcase on the coffee table. Slipping off her coat, she dropped it on the settee and started for the bedroom to change her clothes. But she only took two steps before she abruptly sat down on the sofa instead, almost without any volition of her own. Listening to the silence around her, she looked around at her things and for the first time, became aware of just how small and empty her flat was without the woman she loved.

The worst part was that she knew deep down if she stood her ground, Nikki would certainly give in. Not graciously nor willingly, but eventually, she would allow that being with Helen was more important than having a difficult commute back and forth between the cafe and South London, more important than having her own space as opposed to just being a guest in Helen's…more important than holding on to her own sense of pride. She would compromise in the same manner that she had in walking away from managing the nightclub to buy a café so they could spend more time together. She’d accept it just the way she’d accepted that Helen was leaving her behind in prison never to see her again because she just couldn’t handle being in love with her. The same way she’d accepted every decision Helen had ever made about their relationship, even if it meant wishing her luck through a miasma of pain when the governor was dating Thomas Waugh. Not because she was weak, but because Helen’s happiness was truly more important to her than her own.

Helen felt tears sting her eyes. What an absolute prat she was being. She claimed to love Nikki, but how was it love when she continually tried to arrange things to suit her, without any regard for what was best for her partner? When she expected the woman she loved to just give in to her demands because she was...because she was…

Because she was scared witless.

That was it, pure and simple. The real reason she didn't want to give up her flat. The real reason she didn’t want to move in with Nikki onto what would essentially be new and neutral territory. The real reason she didn’t want to completely embrace this relationship. She was terrified that if it didn't work out, then she'd be left with nothing, and it wasn't really the flat that she’d be without. It would be her heart and everything else that made life worth living. Somehow, Nikki understood that, and what she was really asking of Helen was a tangible commitment to their relationship, as large a commitment as Nikki had made by investing all her savings into the cafe. She was asking that Helen get past her fear and accept what she was offering, just as Nikki had to bypass her own fear in the beginning and place her trust in Helen.

“Oh, Nikki,” she whispered. She looked around at the sum of her existence, at everything that she'd acquired since university, since being out on her own, and leaving behind the life in Scotland with her father. What real difference did it make where she kept it all?

Nikki had compromised so many times. It was time Helen started coming up with a few of her own.

She went into the bedroom and changed her clothes before tossing more of her wardrobe into a bag. She picked up her briefcase on her way out to her car, and forty-five minutes later, she was parking next to Nikki’s silver convertible. Grabbing the travel bag out of the boot, she slung it over her shoulder and headed up the street toward the nightclub because she thought that would be the logical place to find Nikki.

The normal Monday night crowd were gathered for the viewing of their favorite show. Already well tuned up in anticipation of the latest episode, they kept the bartenders hopping to keep up with the drink orders. Helen found Trisha behind the bar, helping out.

“Is Nikki in the office? Or is she upstairs?”

Trisha shot her a glance, finished up her order, and then jerked her head to motion her toward the far end of the bar where they could talk privately. It didn’t take much for Helen to see Trisha was monumentally annoyed at her.

“Nikki moved into her new flat today.”

“Already?”

“All she took was a box of books, some sheets and towels, and three bags of clothes. She left everything else upstairs. It wasn’t like we needed to hire movers.” Trisha paused, her mouth twisting sardonically. “Tell me, Stewart, are you making it easy for me again?”

Helen felt a flare of anger but swallowed it back. “Is she there now?”

“As far as I know. She had a new bed delivered this afternoon.”

“Thanks.” Helen shifted the heavy travel bag to a new position on her shoulder and left the bar.

Walking up the street past the car park toward the cafe, she tried not to be overly annoyed at Trish who had, in the past, made no secret that if Helen managed to screw things up with Nikki, she’d be there to pick up the pieces. Helen had hoped that would have ended once she began dating Claire, but apparently she was intent on keeping Helen on her toes regardless of how her personal circumstances changed.

So, lost in thought was she that she didn’t realize her mistake until she reached the café and discovered she had no way in. The front doors were firmly closed and the side door that led to the stairwell was locked. The intercom on the wall beside it had not yet been replaced, stray wires dangling from the cracked panel.

She banged a few times on the door, cursing herself for having left her mobile in the car, even after walking past it twice. She doubted anyone could hear her feeble knocks, particularly two floors up, so she was completely surprised when the steel door suddenly flew open to reveal Nikki standing in the entryway.

She blinked, startled. “How…” she began.

Nikki held up her phone. “Trisha said you were on your way.” Her voice was cool and not particularly welcoming. Helen knew that she had truly hurt her by walking out on Saturday and that forgiveness would require more than just an apology this time. It would take explanations, the kind that Helen was never particularly comfortable with.

But what other choice did she have?

“Can I come in?”
Nikki regarded her for a moment, and then stepped aside, allowing her passage into the stairwell.

 

Boxes of Chinese takeout littered the breakfast bar as nearby, a portable CD player played the slow, sad songs she’d been wallowing in prior to Helen’s arrival. Nikki quickly switched it off, took out the CD and put in something different from the stack, something less maudlin and more upbeat, hoping that Helen hadn’t noticed. Then she turned to Helen, looking somewhat small and lost in all the unfurnished living room.

“Did you have dinner?”

Helen turned to look at her, her greenish eyes seeming too large in her face. “No.”

“Help yourself. There’s plenty.” There were no curtains on the windows, and the high glass let in the diffused light from the street below, adding to the single light she had on over the stove. She watched as Helen drop her large travel bag on the floor and perch on one of the stools. Did Helen just assume she could show up out of the blue and everything would just be all right?

Steeling herself, she climbed up on the other stool and picked up the chopsticks, scooping out food from each box onto an extra paper plate until it was full. Wordlessly, she handed it to Helen, finding it hard to meet her eyes. For the next few moments, the two women picked at their food, each pretending to enjoy the egg rolls, fried rice and vegetables, though very little was consumed.

“I had Chinese for lunch,” Helen said suddenly.

Nikki absorbed that, not sure how to respond. “Yeah?”

“Dominic and I went out. He said he’d be interested in renting my flat.”

Nikki resisted the urge to fling her plate across the room, or better still, at the woman beside her. Helen had said that so casually, as if all this had not been a bone of contention between them, as if she had been the reasonable one all along and it was Nikki who was being difficult.

“Well?”

Helen did not look up. “Well what?”

The woman is absolutely infuriating, Nikki thought hopelessly. Why am I so in love with her?

“Are you going to rent it to him?”

“I don’t know. I said I’d get back to him.” She took a bite of water chestnut, chewing slowly before swallowing. “Depends on if your offer is still open.”
 Nikki lifted her brows. “Do you want it to be? Look Helen, I never meant for this to be an ultimatum. That’s not what it’s about at all. I just…I thought we could start from the beginning here since it’s a brand new flat.” She took a moment, struggling to find the words and making a concentrated effort to gentle her tone. “This is really about having the opportunity to make my own choices rather than you always making them for me. I’m not saying you’re to blame for that. It was the circumstances of Larkhall and everything that’s happened in our relationship, but since my release, I’ve been trying so hard to be who I need to be without hurting you, and it doesn’t always work the way I want.”

Helen toyed with her vegetables. “You think I want to run your life, as if you were still an inmate?”

“I don't think you want that, but sometimes it feels that way, especially when you kept assuming I was going to move in with you and it was just a matter of when you finally managed to wear me down rather than if.” 

Helen made a face. “If it’s any consolation, I did the same thing with Sean. He was just a lot easier to convince.”

“I’m not Sean.”

“No, you’re not.” Helen put her hand on Nikki’s forearm, tentatively, as if afraid to touch her.

Nikki regarded the graceful fingers encircling her wrist. “Helen, every time we fought in Larkhall, it always ended with you playing the power card, the one where you’re responsible for me, and I had to do whatever you said. I was never equal in that relationship.”

“I know.” Helen's face saddened. “That’s why I resisted the whole thing so hard in the first place.”

“I understand that, but it’s different out here. Here, you’re not responsible for me, and I’m not responsible for you. But I suppose we are responsible to each other and maybe that’s the part we’re struggling with.”

Exhaling audibly, Helen let go of Nikki’s arm and pushed her plate away. Her head was bent as she looked down at the counter. “I’m scared, Nikki, but somehow you know that.”

“Yes, I do. I just don’t know why and you’re not telling me.”

“If it doesn’t work out between us…”  Helen trailed off unhappily.

“I think that where we’re actually living will be irrelevant in that case.”

“I know. I just…I suppose I thought that if you moved in with me and things went wrong…”

Nikki lowered her head. “Then your life wouldn’t really change all that much. I’d just be gone and you’d go on the same as always.”

“Except it’s too late for that. It wouldn’t be the same at all. It would change forever.” Helen kept her head down, making it difficult for Nikki to see her expression. “It’s already changed forever.”

“Yeah, it has.” Nikki poked her rice idly with a chopstick. “Helen, you’re still not telling me everything. Why are you so afraid that it won’t work out? Especially after we've been through so much.”

Helen made a small sound in the back of her throat, not quite a whimper, but clearly one of distress. “Because nothing has ever worked out for me the way I intended. Not my career, not my personal life…nothing. Something always goes wrong. Somehow, I always go wrong.” Her breath caught, as if the words were lodged in her throat. “I couldn’t bear to go wrong with this.”

“Ah, Helen.” Nikki reached over and put her arm around her shoulders, drawing her into the side of her body, holding her close. “As long as we’re in this together, it’ll work out. Look, with all the shit we’ve faced, we still want each other, we still need each other…we still love each other.” She squeezed her tightly. “Do you remember the first time we made love?”

“Do you really think I’d ever forget that?”

Nikki stroked the chestnut hair lightly. “I said that everything was possible, that there was a whole future for us. I was a little ahead of myself back then, but it’s still true now, Helen. The sky’s the limit.”

Helen finally lifted her head to meet her gaze. Her eyes were luminous, glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t want to be afraid of loving you, or having you love me.”

“You don’t have to be afraid with me,” Nikki told her softly. “Look, I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. Living together, no matter where we do it, is going to take some adjustment. I just don’t want to be the one always adjusting, which is how I’d feel if I moved into your flat.”

“So why do you even want to live with me in the first place?”  Her voice was low and shaky.

Nikki managed a smile. “Because of those quiet moments while we’re both reading and I look up to see you there, and it’s like my heart can’t get any fuller. Because of those times when I look across the dinner table and all I can think is that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Do you know how much I adore waking up in the middle of the night and hearing you breathe beside me? It's the absolute best feeling in the world.” She squeezed Helen gently. “I love you and I can’t imagine not living with you, and it really doesn’t matter where that is. I could be in a palace and if you weren’t there, my life would be worth nothing. I could be in a cell again and as long as I could see you, my life would be complete. I’m totally committed to you, darling.”

“Nikki…” Helen shifted, slipping her arms around Nikki’s waist and hugging her tightly. “I don’t ever want you to doubt how much I love you.”

“I don’t, Helen.” Nikki buried her face in the soft, chestnut hair. “I’m so sorry I missed our Sunday yesterday. Too much pride for my own good.”

“I know. The same here. I’ve been such an idiot.”

“I'm the idiot..”

They held each other as Nikki listened to her heart beat against her own, and thought that it would all right.

“So, I can have the walls repainted?”

“Of course.” Nikki lifted her brows. “What, you think they’re too bland?”

“I like color.”

“I can tell from how you did your place. Deep red in the bedroom, sunshine yellow in the living room, dark purple in the bathroom…”

Helen tilted her head. “You want me to tone it down?”

“Well, can we leave the upstairs alone? I like neutral colors and natural woods.”

“The loft is yours,” Helen promised.

“Can I have a pool table up there?”

“Nikki…”

She smiled. “You’re so easy to wind up.”

“That’s because half the time, you’re not winding me up. You’re completely serious.”

“At least it’s not boring.”

Helen burrowed into her neck. “No,” she whispered. “It’s never boring.”

Nikki rubbed her back. “Helen, honestly…we don’t have to rush this. If you don't want to move, that’s okay. You can stay over a few nights, get used to it and if it’s not what you want, we’ll keep looking. But at least, now I have to something to offer you, something that’s worthy of you.”

“I’m so tired of ‘staying over’, Nikki. I want to be with you. And I want to be with you here. It’s a beautiful flat, and it’ll be a wonderful place to live.”

Nikki drew back so she could look in her eyes. “Really?”

“Really.” Helen kissed her gently. “Look, my briefcase is in the car. My clothes for the rest of the week are in the bag. I’ll move everything else this weekend but in the meantime, I never want to spend another night without you. We’ve already lost too many days and nights being apart.” She leaned into her, her lips parting, and Nikki readily accepted the invitation, kissing her deeply. That was followed by another, and then another, until they were both breathless. “Hmm, Trisha mentioned that you bought a bed?”

Nikki laughed as she slipped off the stool, taking Helen’s hands in hers and tugging her along. “Yeah, I did. Do you want to see it?”

“I can’t wait.”

In the bedroom, Helen paused a moment to appreciate the expanse of a king-sized bed that was the only piece of furniture, appearing almost too small for the room despite its generous size. She glanced at Nikki who was watching her with quiet enjoyment. “Nice choice.”

“I thought you’d like it. Lots of room for rolling around.”

“No headboard?”

Nikki squeezed her hand. “I wanted you to help me pick it out. In fact, I want us to pick out everything together. I only bought the bed because I needed a place to sleep tonight.” Helen turned and slipped her arms around Nikki’s waist, pressing into her, but it was more a reaching out for comfort than anything sexual. Nikki recognized the difference instantly and held her tight, nuzzling her hair gently. “It's okay, Helen.”

“I'm just…I’m sorry, Nikki. I hate hurting you.”

“I hate hurting you. It's a bloody shame we're so good at it.”

Helen closed her eyes and rested her cheek on Nikki's shoulder. “Do you think we'll ever become completely comfortable with each other?”

“Like a pair of old boots, you mean? No more surprises, no more demands, no more need to compromise?” Nikki reached up and tangled her hand in Helen’s hair, holding her head to her. “Is that what you want?”

“I don't know.” Helen's tone was a touch wistful. “Sometimes I think it would be nice.”

“Maybe someday, but we didn't meet and fall in love under normal circumstances, darling. The repercussions of that may always be with us. And maybe that edge is what’ll keep it interesting. We've been through so much already that we know if we can just stick together, we'll always come out the other side intact.” She smiled. “Or at least, without too many pieces missing.”

Helen kissed her neck and slipped her hand up to Nikki's breast, squeezing gently. “I like all your pieces where they are, thank you.”

Nikki laughed and drew back a little to look at her. “Your pieces aren't so bad, either, Miss Stewart.” She nudged her backward, until Helen was at the edge of the bed. Another gentle nudge sent her tumbling down onto the downy duvet, where she sprawled in luxurious comfort, looking up at Nikki with a lazy smile.

“Come here,” she ordered.

Nikki carefully lowered herself onto the smaller woman, supporting herself with her elbows. She delighted in the soft cushion of Helen’s body, and how her arms welcomed her into a warm embrace. “No more late nights, darling. No more of never knowing when we’ll have a chance to see each other. I’ll always be in the building, either up here or downstairs at work.” She kissed her lightly, lingering over the full lips. “I’ll drive you absolutely mad.”

Helen laughed and shifted, somehow managing to roll them over so that she was on the top, straddling Nikki. “You’ve already done that. I’m insanely in love with you, sweetheart.”

“I’m crazy in love with you, too.” Nikki tilted her head, a small smile curving her lips as she looked up at the woman who had so totally captured her heart. Sliding her hands suggestively up the thighs bracketing her hips, she saw the passion spark in those greenish eyes. “I think we’re right where we’re supposed to be, Helen, regardless of where we’re living.”

Helen leaned down, bracing herself on the elbows she placed on each side of Nikki’s head. Her expression became a combination of love, desire and a sort of wonder that she could be blessed with so much.

“Yeah, I suppose we are,” she said softly just before she kissed Nikki with infinite tenderness.

 

The End

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