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Slow & Steady

G. L. Dartt

 

She closed the door quietly behind her, reaching up to twist the lock in a gesture so automatic that she didn’t even notice it.The flat was small, a rectangular room with a tiny kitchenette at one end, and a cramped living room at the other. Two doors led off to a bedroom and bathroom respectively. The bedroom contained a queen-sized bed that was too large for it, leaving barely a foot or so of space between it and the walls on either side. The battered bureau at the foot took up what little free space was left. Through the small window on one wall, the lights from the street offered enough illumination for her to see what she was doing.

Emptying her pockets onto the dresser, she placed her keys, wallet and loose change with deliberate care so as not to make any noise and disturb the compact form curled up on the right side of the bed. Then she slipped silently out of her outfit, hanging the red satin shirt, tailored jacket and dark trousers in the tiny closet. Black lace underwear was discarded into the dark corner with the rest of the dirty clothes that waited the next washday.

Naked, she turned to discover her effort to be as quiet as possible had all been for naught. The woman in her bed was wide awake, sitting up against a pile of pillows and regarding her with grayish green eyes.

“Hiya Nikki,” she greeted quietly, her words flavored with a distinctly Scottish accent. Helen Stewart was the sort of woman that warranted a second look at the worst of times. Nude body tucked up in a tangle of duvet and sheets, her lovely face blurred from sleep and framed by random strands of dark blondish hair, she was gorgeous.

Nikki smiled lazily. “Hey, you.”

“How was your night?”

“The usual,” she said as she crawled up the length of mattress on her hands and knees to join Helen who drew back the covers to welcome her in. She groaned in sheer, sensual pleasure as she settled against that warm form, smooth skin and soft curves providing a haven of delight that was almost enough to make her cry.

Slipping her arm around Nikki’s shoulders as she settled against her, Helen drew her head down to rest on her shoulder. “You look tired.”

“Hmm,” Nikki responded wearily, “Guess I’m still not used to the late nights.” She tightened the arm across Helen’s abdomen, squeezing lightly in an affectionate hug. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I am too, sweetheart.”

Nikki burrowed into her neck, kissing the soft skin, mouthing it gently as she spread her fingers across the soft swell of Helen’s stomach. Helen made a small sound, midway between pleasure and dismay.

“Don’t start anything you’re too tired to finish,” she warned lightly.

Nikki lifted her head to look at her. “Has that ever happened?”

“There’s always a first time.”

Nikki bit her earlobe gently. “I just want to make love to you, darling. I’ve thought of nothing else all night.” Her fingertips stroked Helen’s belly lightly, teasingly, dipping lower to tangle in the curled mat of hair, tugging on the wiry strands gently. “Are you objecting?”

Helen squirmed and pulled her close. “Not at all,” she said huskily.

Nikki laughed and sought out her lips, kissing her with slow pleasure. There was a time not so long ago when she never thought this would be possible. She had spent five years in prison for killing a police officer that had been trying to rape her girlfriend. While in HMP Larkhall, she’d met Helen, who worked there as a wing governor. Somehow, despite all the obstacles and strikes against them, they fell in love, and after winning her appeal, her life sentence for murder was reduced to manslaughter with provocation. Nikki was once more a free woman.

Free to hold the woman she loved in her arms, free to explore that compact body thoroughly and seek out all the sensitive spots she had come to know so well over the past few months. It still felt like a dream at times, albeit a most pleasant one. Dipping her head with a quiet gratitude, she took a soft nipple between her lips, tickling it lightly with the tip of her tongue.

Helen exhaled loudly and pressed closer as Nikki cupped the other breast in her hand. Squeezing gently, she chafed the soft protuberance into a point of sheer firmness with her thumb as she continued to use her mouth on the other.

“Nikki...”

She loved hearing her name spoken by Helen, particularly in that tone of breathless desire. Slowly, she took her hand from the breast, slipping easily down the curve of Helen's waist to her hip, then to the inside of her thigh, stroking lightly to the wetness that was like silk on her fingers. Helen’s head went back and she moaned softly into the night as Nikki kissed her throat and neck, fondling her with tender intensity.

“I love you, Helen,” she whispered. “Always.”

“Oh God, Nikki...”

Helen’s hands tightened on her lover’s shoulders, nails digging in as Nikki slipped two fingers inside her, probing deep into the heat and moisture. Pressing her thumb rhythmically on the swollen ridge, it wasn’t long before pleasure overwhelmed Helen. The sound from her lips at that moment was incoherent, not a name or a word, but simply a cry of pure and utter delight as she arched, pulsing sweetly around Nikki’s fingers buried within her.

Nikki closed her eyes as she held her, hand still incased in the liquid warmth, hearing Helen’s soft gasps as she tried to catch her breath. Flexing her fingers slightly, she made Helen twitch from the aftershocks, and she smiled, feeling more than a little satisfied with herself.

Eventually, Helen reached for Nikki, but she could only groan and withdraw gently. “Sweetie, I can’t. I’m flat-out knackered.”

Startled, Helen lifted her head, trying to see her in the darkness. “Seriously?”

“It would be a waste of time trying. I swear I’ll fall asleep midway through.” Nikki slipped her arms around Helen and pulled her close.

“Well, you certainly know how to make a girl feel competent.” Helen’s voice was wry in the night.

Bashfully, Nikki buried her face in the soft hair. “Ah, Helen.”

Helen made an apologetic sound and stroked the back of Nikki’s neck, tangling her fingers in the short curls there. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m just teasing. I know you’re exhausted. Thank you for making me feel so wonderful.”

“Anytime.” Nikki yawned widely and settled against the warm body. “I promise, tomorrow you can have your way with me all day, if you’d like.”

 “I would,” Helen told her quietly, kissing her tenderly. “Go to sleep, and I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

But Helen wasn't there when Nikki woke up four hours later, and she sighed as she reached across the bed and grabbed a pillow to hug. Undoubtedly, Helen had slipped out to pick up some coffee at the local cafe down the street since Nikki didn't have a coffee maker in her flat, and Helen abhorred instant. Burying her nose in the pillowcase, Nikki inhaled the warm scent that still lingered, feeling a little lonely, though she knew Helen would only be gone a little while. She loved having her in her flat, particularly when she finished the late shift in the club. It was so much easier to climb the stairs to the third floor knowing that Helen waited for her.

It was just too bad that she couldn't expect to enjoy it after this weekend.

Groaning, Nikki rolled over onto her back and linked her fingers behind her head, staring up at the grimy ceiling. On Monday morning, Helen started her new job with the Home Office’s Correctional & Rehabilitation Policy Unit, and even if she might still be waiting in Nikki's bed on the occasional Saturday night, there would be no more of her cheerfully adjusting her schedule to coincide with Nikki's. Government employees worked from eight to five, Monday through Friday. Chix, London's hottest lesbian nightclub, was open evenings, Monday to Thursday, four to one, and on Fridays and Saturdays, until three in the morning. Trisha, Nikki's business partner and ex-girlfriend, had worked hard the past few years to create reasons for people to drop by the club even during the week, so it wasn't as if they had any slow nights that Nikki could skip off.

Nikki still wasn't sure what she and Helen would do about the imminent lack of free time to spend together. She didn't think she'd mind driving down to South London, where Helen's flat was located, during the week when she was finished by half one or two, though she certainly didn't want to be climbing into bed and disturbing Helen who needed to be up at six the next morning. But on the weekends, closing generally kept the staff at the club until four or five, and not only did Nikki not want to be driving over to Helen’s at that time, she was usually too tired to do so safely. Yet, she didn't feel it was fair to ask Helen to spend her weekends in the dingy flat waiting for Nikki to finish work, or in the club, subject to loud dance music and drunken lesbians who kept trying to pick her up.

If only her flat was nicer and larger. Or Helen lived closer. Or they had jobs that offered similar hours.

“You look serious.”

Startled, Nikki jerked so hard the entire bed shook. She hadn't even heard the door in the outer room open, or Helen's footsteps crossing the wooden floor.

“I was just thinking,” she admitted as she looked up at her lover standing in the doorway.

Helen moved carefully down the narrow space between the bed and the wall, trying not to bang her elbows as she deposited a large brown bag on the bedside table. “Dare I ask about what?”

“Us and what we’re going to do,” Nikki admitted as she sat up and reached for the bag, pulling out a cup of coffee, a bagel with cream cheese and a large cherry danish. She looked at what Helen considered breakfast and tried not to cringe. “Have you ever heard of whole grain cereals?”

“Do I look like a sheep?”

“Well, you eat like a kid.”

Helen favored her with a pitying look. “City girl. Kids are baby goats. Lambs are baby sheep.”

“I know that, but it wouldn’t have been funny if I said you eat like a lamb.”

“Oh, it was supposed to be funny?”

“Smartarse.”

Helen smiled and began to undress, stepping out of her jeans, taking off her t-shirt and peeling off her undergarments while Nikki watched appreciatively. Slipping naked under the duvet, Helen reached for her breakfast as Nikki resigned herself to crumbs in the sheets.

“I presume you didn't bring anything for me.”

Helen shot her a skeptical look as she sipped her coffee. “Would you eat anything I brought you from there?”

Nikki thought of the dingy café a few blocks down and wrinkled her nose. “Frankly, I don't know how you can eat anything from there. It's absolutely disgusting.”

“You’re too fussy,” Helen said placidly and took a big bite of her bagel.

Nikki repressed a delicate shudder and rose from the bed. Nude, she strolled out to the small kitchenette where she retrieved a box from the cupboard and filled a big bowl. After covering the cereal with skimmed milk and sliced bananas, she carried it back into the bedroom.

“Now that’s disgusting,” Helen commented as she held the dish while Nikki climbed back into bed.

“You don’t know what’s good for you,” Nikki told her.

“I must not,” Helen agreed amiably. “Otherwise how’d we end up together?”

“Because you’re tremendously fortunate.”

There was a pause, and then Helen leaned over, kissing Nikki to end the trading of barbs. “I am,” she muttered and kissed her again before returning to her breakfast.

Nikki smiled and licked a smear of cream cheese off her bottom lip. Maybe Helen was right about that little hole in the wall, she thought. That hadn’t tasted half bad; though it was entirely possible it was the flavor of the woman and not the food that made it palatable.

With any luck, she’d be able to taste a lot more of Helen in the immediate future.

 

Breakfast over, Helen took the bowl from her lover and placed it on the bedside table. Nikki glanced at her sideways, a small smile curving her lips, indicating she had a faint idea of what she had in mind. Reaching beneath the covers, Helen put her hand on Nikki’s thigh. “I believe you mentioned something about having my way with you this morning?”

Nikki pretended to think. “You know, it’s possible that I did.”

Helen didn’t let her pretend very long, rolling over to stretch out on top of that glorious length of body with a low groan of pleasure. She never grew tired of loving Nikki, of stroking the soft skin, of feeling her warmth pressed against her, of being free to touch and tease and taste her in the most intimate and gratifying of ways. As they moved against each other, she completely understood how Nikki could make love to her so thoroughly the night before, yet not require anything in return. There was a deep and abiding satisfaction in pleasing a woman, as fulfilling in its own way as being made love to.

It wasn't anything Helen had ever felt with the various men in her life. She’d enjoyed sex with them, had even enjoyed getting them off at times without reciprocation, but then it was more a display of power on her part, of having them completely under her control. With Nikki, making love to her was both glorious and humbling, offering a constant sense of wonder that she could grant such complete and utter delight to her.

Of course, the best was when they made love together, splitting focus between providing pleasure and receiving it, sharing completely that profound moment when they could peak simultaneously, looking deep into the other's eyes. It didn't happen often, and required a certain amount of discipline and concentration, but when they managed it, the result was marvelous. Even the failures, where one climaxed before the other, were a great bit of fun and entirely worthwhile.

“What are you thinking?” Nikki's voice was lazy as she lay in her arms some hours later, completely relaxed and sated from their encounter.

“How much I enjoy being with you,” Helen murmured. She looked down at the dark head resting on her shoulder, stroking the smooth cheek lightly with her fingertips. “You really are the most amazing lover.”

“Better than the men you've been with?”

Helen frowned, abruptly annoyed. “Why do you do that?”

Nikki lowered her eyes, flushing faintly. “Sorry.”

“What do you think they can give me that you can't? Do you really believe I'm that hung up on co—” She paused, searching for another way of saying it that would be less confrontational. “My partner having a penis?”

“No,” Nikki admitted in a low voice. “I mean, if that's all you need, I can always buy a strapon.”

Helen blinked, momentarily distracted by the concept. “A strapon?”

But Nikki wasn’t listening, sadness etching her narrow features. “I know it's not about that, Helen. I guess it'll just take time before I believe that I deserve the good things in my life and stop trying to screw them up.”

Feeling her heart catch at both the expression and the tone, Helen reminded herself of how many times Nikki had been hurt over the past few years ... and of how many times she had been the cause. Cupping her cheek, she drew Nikki’s face up until the big brown eyes met hers. “Then I'll just have to be patient, won't I?” she told her quietly. “And remember to tell you how much I love you every day.”

Nikki regarded her gravely, the furrow in her brow smoothing out. “You're the amazing one, darling. Why do you put up with me?”

“It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it.” That drew a smile from Nikki and prompted Helen to kiss her quite thoroughly. “You mentioned something earlier,” Helen said after they came up for air. “That you were thinking about us and what we were going to do. What did you mean?”

“Our work situation.” Nikki shifted slightly in her arms so that she was lying more on top of Helen and able to look down at her, dark eyes intent. “It’s going to be difficult.”

“But not impossible,” Helen reminded her. “We’ll just have to see how it goes. Once we have the work routine down, then we can figure out how to best schedule our time.”

“Now you sound like a certain wing governor I once knew.” Nikki abruptly grinned. “Will I have to make appointments to see you, Miss Stewart?”

Helen lifted her brow at the reminder of their time in Larkhall. “I don’t know why you would. Every time you were in my office, I was yelling at you because you’d done something to piss me off.”

“Not every time,” Nikki countered. “You did call me there once to ask me to try Open University, remember?” Nikki nibbled lightly on her chin. “In fact, you flirted with me to get me to try it.”

Helen frowned, searching her memory. “I did not.”

Nikki offered a skeptical look. “C’mon, ‘as a favor to me’. Did you pull a lot of girls with that line?”

“Just the one, apparently.” Helen wrapped her arms around her lover’s neck and pulled her down for a kiss. “Honestly, Nikki, you really did turn my world inside out. I never knew whether I was coming or going.”

“And now?”

Helen grinned cheekily. “Now I’m mostly coming.”

“Only mostly?”

Helen lovingly drew her finger along Nikki’s bottom lip. “You know what you do to me. And keep doing to me over and over and over again.”

Nikki smiled and kissed her fingertip. “That’s the best thing about women, Helen. We just keep going and going and going...” She used her knee to nudge Helen’s thighs apart as she began to kiss her way down her body.

Exhaling, Helen put her head back, enjoying the play of lips and tongue on her skin. As desire rose like a smoldering flame, her eyes drifted and she made the supreme mistake of glancing at the clock on the bedside table. Biting off a curse, she pulled away from the skillful caresses with a decided effort. “Nikki, I can’t. I have to go home.”

Nikki lifted her head, looking ruffled, her dark hair sticking up on end. “Huh?”

Helen sighed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she said with honest regret. “I have some things I need to go over before tomorrow, and I just can’t put them off any longer.”

“Oh. Okay.” Nikki’s brow was furrowed slightly, but she slipped back up the bed to kiss Helen gently on the lips. “You’ll do great in your new job, darling. They’re lucky to have you.”

Helen knew that, but it was nice to hear anyway. “What about you?”

 “Me?” Nikki shrugged. “Might do some cleaning.” She looked around with a wry grin. “Though it requires a sledge hammer rather than a mop.”

“No, I mean I want you to come home with me.”

“Ah, Helen, you don’t need me getting under your feet.”

Helen stared at her, astonished that Nikki still thought like that, even now. “You wouldn’t be in the way,” she said with forced patience. “Please, Nikki. I want to wake up with you tomorrow morning, and have you be there while I get ready for my first day on the job.” She paused, finding it hard to say but forcing it out anyway. “I need you to be there.”

Nikki looked surprised but pleased. “All right, I’ll go home with you. You only had to ask.”

“I don’t want to have to ask. I want you to want to be there.”

Frowning slightly, Nikki looked down into her eyes. “I do want to be there, Helen. I reckon...I don’t often feel that you need me in your life…not that way. It always surprises me when you tell me.”

“Well, it shouldn’t. I need you as much as you need me.” Helen nudged her. “Now get off me before I change my mind.”

“About my coming home with you?”

“No, about my wanting you off me.”

“Well, I can always get back on you when we get to your place,” Nikki offered reasonably.

“Promise?”

Nikki grinned and kissed her, slowly, with admirable thoroughness. By the time they came up for air, Helen had changed her mind but Nikki had already rolled over and risen from the mattress in one easy motion, her flexibility an absolute delight to witness. Helen stifled a sigh and waited until the she had gathered some clothes and headed for the bathroom…there really wasn't room for more than one person to move about the bedroom at any one time …before slipping out of bed.

It wasn’t long before they were on their way to Helen’s flat in South London. Even when stopping briefly for lunch at a café along the way, it was still mid-afternoon when they arrived. After she put her satchel containing some extra clothes in the bedroom, Nikki wandered back to the living room where Helen had several of her old files spread over the large coffee table.

“So can I get on top of you now?”

Helen glanced up at the comment and offered a grin. “Later,” she said. “Why don’t you go do something in the garden? God knows, I haven’t touched it since Sean left, outside of having the boy next door cut the grass.”

“I wondered why it was such a mess.” Nikki paused. “That’s the real reason you wanted me to come home with you, isn’t it? Free gardening.”

Helen looked her up and down languidly. “Oh, you’ll be paid.”

“You don’t even know what I charge yet, Miss.”

“I think I can meet any price you can come up with.”

“Hmm, we’ll see about that.” Nikki nodded at the files and sobered. “What exactly will you be doing at this place, anyway?”

“I’ll be working as a prison services coordinator,” Helen explained. “The unit's purpose is to institute a range of programs to assist female inmates deal with the various problems they face, from drug addiction to domestic abuse. Sort of like what I did with the lifers’ group, only more involved. In fact, the work I did with that group is why they gave me the job. More than one program is necessary because the women have their own individual needs, and I want to create specific guidelines that target each particular aspect of those requirements.”

Nikki leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom, a serious expression appearing on her face. “Will you be going into the prisons to do this?”

“Probably not.” Helen shrugged as she looked over her notes from the various programs she had worked on throughout her career. “I won’t be running the programs, just coordinating them. Even if I do have to make an onsite visit, it would only be to set up the basic outline and evaluate the training procedures for the personnel.”

“Would you be going back to Larkhall?”

“Not if I can help it.” The words were out of Helen’s mouth before she realized, and when she did, she had to put down the sheet of paper because her hand had started shaking. Uncomfortably, she lifted her eyes to meet Nikki’s, and was oddly relieved to find only empathy and compassion in that intent gaze.

After a second or two, Nikki straightened. “So, you’re giving me free rein to do what I want in your garden?”

Helen took a breath, trying to regain the composure she’d lost, unsure why she had and afraid to examine it too closely. Forcing a smile, she spread out her hands. “It’s all yours. Just remember I have neighbors, so don’t bring in any heavy equipment.”

“What, you don’t want statues of naked nymphs cavorting around the fountain?”

Helen laughed, the last trace of her unease disappearing. “The only naked nymph I want is you, and the garden is not where I want you cavorting.”

Nikki flashed her a smile and disappeared into the kitchen, on her way out the back door. Helen looked after her for a moment, pleased that Nikki was so enthusiastic about tackling the job. Hopefully, it would grant her a sense of belonging that was obviously lacking in the relationship so far.

Helen looked back at her files. With any luck, Nikki would even start to feel at home here, and then it would be a simple matter to convince her to move out of that horrid little flat over the club.

 

Nikki surveyed the ruins of what must have been a rather spectacular little garden at one time. There was just enough left to indicate how much care and time had once gone into it, but then, if she remembered correctly, Sean had been a pretty decent gardener. She had actually learned a thing or two when he’d been roped into giving a talk at Larkhall. A sort of weedy young man, she’d detected his nervousness right away when he walked into the room, and when the other inmates started giving him a hard time, she brought them back into line so that he could do his little lecture. Of course, that was before she discovered he was Helen’s fiancé. She still remembered that sick feeling that had come over her when she heard it. Was that when she first realized she was in love with the woman?

Nikki shook her head. Although it had been pretty horrible at the time, the memory had softened over the years, and she could even remember it with a bit of humor now. It was after Sean’s lecture that Helen showed up in the potting shed, demanding to know why Nikki had been so upset about finding out she was engaged. One self-encouraged breast grope later, leading directly into an even more awkward lecture in the office, and Nikki had the first inkling that perhaps Helen wasn’t as straight as she might like to believe. When the fateful words came out of Helen’s mouth; “Even if I were attracted to you, which I’m not, there’s no way we could have a relationship,” Nikki suspected she had something. Faint, but definitely there, because of course, no straight bird would even consider the consequences of having a relationship with her. It rapidly became a matter of the lady protesting too much.

With a smile on her face, Nikki took a walk around the yard, inspecting the various beds and untidy bushes, trying to determine what required maintenance and what would need to be torn up and completely redone. With the onset of spring, there were a lot of planting options for her to explore. Strolling over to the small shed, she looked at the padlock attached to the door, noting that it was rusty and obviously hadn’t been opened in ages. She wondered if Helen’s reluctance to deal with the garden in any constructive way was tied directly into how Sean had humiliated her by showing up at the prison and burning his wedding suit in front of most of the inmates and guards on G-Wing. Was it possible that since she couldn’t get back at Sean for that, she let all his work on the property fall into ruin, thereby having the last laugh? Nikki didn’t underestimate the temper Helen Stewart possessed, or her ability to hold a grudge. It exhibited itself in some pretty profound ways at times. Exhaling audibly, she trekked back into the house.

“Helen, do you have a crowbar?”

Helen glanced up from her papers, frowning slightly. “I think there’s one in the shed.”

Nikki resisted the first smartarse comment that popped into her head. “Well, that’s a problem, because it’s the shed I’m trying to get into. The door’s padlocked.”

“I’m sure there’s a key around here somewhere.”

That’s exactly what Nikki had been afraid of, but rather than go off on a futile search for something that was unlikely to be found in the next decade, she shook her head.

“Wouldn’t work,” she told her, fudging just a little. “The lock’s completely rusted over. I’m going to have to break it.”

Helen regarded her for a moment, either wondering why Nikki was bothering her with this or why she was just plain bothering in the first place since the whole garden idea was obviously nothing more than a way to keep Nikki out of her hair for the time being. Sometimes, Helen was blatantly transparent, and that was why Nikki intended to completely transform the back garden, just to aggravate her. Besides, it would significantly increase the value of the property when it came time for Helen to sell it and move to larger accommodations.

“There’s a tire iron in the boot of the car,” Helen offered after some thought.

“That’ll do.”

Helen dug into her jacket pocket, and after handing Nikki the keys, immersed herself once more in her files. Nikki stifled a grin and went out the front door to where the little red Peugeot 306 was parked by the curb. Digging around the trunk, she first had to shift a box of half empty windshield washer bottles and a few things that didn’t really belong, before finally finding the tire iron tucked away in the corner.

Checking the sun, she determined that she still had a few hours of daylight left and headed inside, annoyed that she had to walk through the house to get to the garden. Any new place they bought would definitely have enough room for a path and a gate leading to the back of the house.

She noticed that Helen didn’t even look up as she went through, and Nikki wondered if that was how it would be once they started living together. She knew Helen’s career in the prison service was very important to her. That’s what made the sacrifices she’d willingly embraced for Nikki all the more remarkable. But there was no question that once she had her head into a project, it wasn’t easy to bring her back around to the truly important things in life. Nikki decided that she’d probably been spoiled in the months since leaving Larkhall. Helen had concentrated completely on her. That was about to change and only time would tell how big a shift it would be, or how much adjustment they would have to make to accommodate it.

Breaking the lock took only a minimal effort, though when Nikki opened the door to the shed, she wondered why anyone had bothered to secure the interior in the first place. It was full of broken gardening tools, cracked plant pots, half full bags of peat that had mildewed and one extremely corroded crowbar. Cobwebs filled the corners and dust glittered in the solitary sunbeam piercing the small, grimy window.

“Christ,” she muttered. Shaking her head, she turned around and headed back into the house. Pausing in the living room arch, she watched Helen silently for a few moments, just because it was a pleasure to do so.

Eventually, her scrutiny became apparent to Helen, and she looked up, puzzlement furrowing her brow. “What is it, Nikki?”

“Do you remember when you had Sean do that lecture at the prison?”

Helen hesitated, her sudden caution so readily apparent that Nikki had to swallow back a laugh. “Yeah.”

“Did he tell you that Dockley gave him a really hard time?”

“Yes, he did. He also told me that you intervened and kept it from becoming a complete disaster.” Helen pursed her lips. “That was obviously before you realized he was my boyfriend.”

Nikki waved that off. “Afterward, he thanked me and said that he owed me a few hours weeding once I finally had myself a garden. Do you have his number by any chance?”

Helen stared at her. “What?”

“His number. Do you have it?” Nikki offered with forced patience and a completely straight face. She wished she could take a picture of Helen’s and have it framed. It was priceless. “The man owes me. It’s going to take weeks to clean up that garden, and the least he can do is help me out like he promised. Besides, he’s a professional, right? I’ll hire him. He already knows the grounds, so it’s not as if I’ll have to draw up plans or anything.”

Helen stared at her a moment longer, clearly at a loss, and Nikki couldn’t hold it anymore. She started to laugh, which caused Helen to pick up the nearest cushion from the sofa and fling it at her. Nikki ducked and laughed harder.

“I can’t believe you were winding me up like that.” Helen’s tone was equal parts embarrassment and annoyance.

“I can’t believe you let me,” Nikki responded when she regained her breath. “Though I’d love to hear what he had to say if I did call him up and offered him the job to redo your garden.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Helen ordered in an irrefutable tone that made Nikki start to laugh all over again. That stubborn jaw suddenly quivered, and Nikki wasn’t sure if it was due to amusement or anger, so she decided she had better change the subject.

“Well, if you don’t have his number, do you have some gloves?”

“What kind of gloves?”

“Gloves I can get dirty. Gardening or work gloves would be best, but any old pair will do. I want to clean out the shed before it gets dark.”

Helen exhaled audibly and thought about it for a moment. “Actually, I think I bought Sean some gardening gloves for Christmas that year, and I don’t remember ever taking them back to the shop after we split up. I must have them put away somewhere.”

“Where?”

Helen shot her a look. “I’m thinking.”

“Okay.” Nikki leaned against the doorframe, crossed her arms across her chest and waited patiently. The one thing about being in prison was that it really taught a person how to wait for things, because heaven knew, nothing came easy or quickly. Time was the one commodity everyone had plenty of.

After a minute or two of Helen cogitating furiously, her face brightened triumphantly and she pointed toward the bedroom.

“Try the crap drawer. Bureau, bottom left hand side.”

Nikki resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Apparently, Helen had a crap drawer in every room. One in the kitchen on the end of the counter under the mugs, one in the living room in the table next to the settee and now, it seemed, one in the bedroom in the dresser opposite the foot of the bed.

“Thank you.”

Moving into the bedroom, she knelt down and pulled out the bottom drawer, having some difficulty because it was heavy from all the items inside. Shaking her head, Nikki poked through the collection that included half burned candles, cheap costume jewelry years out of style, hair pins, empty CD covers and of course, a wealth of partially used pens and pencils. Nikki had never met anyone who had so many writing utensils stashed away, yet could never seem to find one when she needed it.

Down at the bottom of the drawer, there was a spanking new pair of gardening gloves. Smiling, she dug them out and was about to slide the drawer shut when the white rectangle of an envelope at the rear caught her eye. She didn’t know why it had struck something familiar inside her, but with a frown, she pulled it out from where it was tucked away in the very back of the drawer.

Her breath caught as she saw her own handwriting scrawled across the envelope. Leaning back against the foot of the bed, she opened it up and drew out the paper inside. Her hands began to tremble as she realized it was the letter she had written Helen in prison, pouring out her heart and soul in an attempt to convey everything that was impossible to say in the cold confines of Larkhall. Tears stung the back of her eyes as she read the words, so heartfelt at the time, but now seeming nothing more than the desperate ramblings of a person locked away from the woman she loved, permeated with a pathetic loneliness.

“Did you find them?” Helen abruptly appeared in the doorway, looking curiously at Nikki who was still on the floor. Her gaze lit on the paper in Nikki’s hand. “What’s that?”

“The letter I wrote you in prison.” Nikki felt a little piece of her heart shrivel up.

Helen’s face was a study in astonishment. “Where’d you find that?”

Bitterly, Nikki crumpled it up in her hands and tossed it back into the drawer that was still open. “Where it belongs, apparently,” she said scathingly as she snatched up the gloves and rose to her feet. Brushing past Helen, she discovered she couldn’t look at her, the hurt and humiliation too strong in her chest.

“With the rest of the stuff you consider crap.”

Stunned, Helen looked after Nikki, who was headed out the back door, and then at the open drawer where the ball of paper rested. Slowly, she walked across the bedroom and knelt down, retrieving the crumpled scrap that she unfolded with care, making sure she didn’t rip it.

God, how she had searched for this letter when she’d lost it. She glanced up at the top drawer of the bureau where it’d been kept; along with the rest of those things she considered treasures, including the precious few pictures she possessed of her mother. When the letter had disappeared all those months ago, she had torn the bedroom apart in a futile attempt to find it. She hadn’t thought to look in the bottom drawer, though she’d even moved the bureau at one point, thinking that perhaps it had fallen behind or even beneath it. Now she realized that it had somehow been caught in the opening and closing of the top drawer, and had slipped down into the bottom one, concealed by all the scrap.

Taking a breath, she skimmed the words she had come to know so well, each one memorized and emblazoned in her heart. It meant so much to her that Nikki had written this, an expression of devotion that kept her warm on all those cold nights when she’d been here alone, thinking of her beloved locked up in the harsh confines of Larkhall.

And Nikki thought she’d discarded it into her crap drawer? Helen’s first emotions were anger, and a deep hurt that the woman she loved thought so little of her. Then she remembered the look on Nikki’s face as she had exited, and realized how devastating it had been for her to find it there. Perhaps she even believed that Helen had tossed it in there once she’d taken up with Thomas.

“Shit.”

Retrieving the envelope lying on the floor next to the corner of the bureau, she carefully put the wrinkled paper inside it. In the top drawer, she tucked it into the wooden box containing the mementos of her mother. It was where she should have kept it in the first place, she thought regretfully, but she’d been in the habit of taking it out and reading it so often that it had just been easier to lay it on top for easy access.

Stifling a sigh, she went off to find Nikki, finally discovering her in the shed. Nikki was tossing things frenziedly out the door onto the lawn, rakes, a shovel, two or three hoes, and several battered and cracked pots, all of which had been left behind by Helen’s fiancé, Sean.

“Nikki.” She prudently stood back out of the way as an old hammock came flying out the opening. She inhaled deeply. “Nikki!”

Nikki appeared, her dark eyes stormy. “What?”

Helen thought about what she wanted to say and how she wanted to say it. Keep it simple, she decided.

“I lost it months ago,” she said in as even a tone as she could manage. “I kept it in my top drawer and it must have fallen down in behind. I nearly went crazy searching for it.”

Nikki looked at her scornfully. “What difference does it make what drawer you kept it in?”

Helen bit the inside of her cheek. God, Nikki made her want to scream at times. She couldn’t remember anyone in her life that could make her so angry with little more than a look or a word.

“Maybe you should take a look at that top drawer where it was before it was lost,” she said tightly, holding back her temper with a phenomenal effort. Turning on her heel, she stalked away. “I’m going for a walk.”

Furious, she stomped up the back stairs, flew through the house, pausing only long enough to grab her keys and her jacket before storming out the front door and onto the pavement. She didn’t even know where she was going. She just picked a direction at random and started to walk, her stride aggressive and angry, head down as she stared at the cement.

The longer she walked, the more her temper cooled until finally she realized that this was just one more misunderstanding exacerbated by having two strong-willed people involved, and that it would probably continue to happen as long as the pair of them felt so strongly for one another. She reminded herself that Nikki was still adjusting to life on the outside, and that prison kept a hold on inmates long after they had left its walls. Her friend, Claire Walker, had advised patience during these early days, and she needed to practice that whenever possible.

In the meantime, she had to accept that the traits she loved most in Nikki...her passion, her willfulness, her sense of justice and fiery nature...were the very things that combined to drive her crazy when they were directed at her. She supposed that it was the same for Nikki. Helen knew she was short tempered at times, and had a tendency of saying the wrong thing in the heat of the moment, of striking at known weak areas and using words to wound. Sometimes she thought of the things she had said to Nikki in the past, and it made her feel sick inside, horrified that she could say such terrible things to the person she loved most in her life.

Maybe that was even the reason why. Nikki had touched her in a way that no one else ever had, had reached in and claimed a piece of her heart without the slightest effort at all. It made Helen feel so vulnerable, and sometimes that was frightening, which, of course, sparked anger. It should be obvious to anyone who had taken as many psychology courses over the years as she had. Sometimes she wondered if she had learned anything at all from her studies, since she had such difficulty applying it to her own life.

She paused, realizing that she had made an entire circuit of the local roads and was now headed back in the direction of her flat. That was even more predictable, she thought with a grim sort of humor. It didn’t matter how much she wanted to get away from Nikki, a part of her always dragged her back, and sometimes in ways that made it clear how ludicrous it was she’d even thought of leaving in the first place.

Shaking her head, she trudged home, wishing she hadn’t walked so far. By the time she reached her block, her feet were aching and her stomach rumbled, indicating that she had missed dinner. The streetlights were on as she finally walked in the door to find Nikki sitting on the sofa, staring blankly across the room. Her eyes were shadowy as she turned her head to meet Helen's gaze.

“I'm sorry,” she said.

Helen felt too drained from her walk to generate much of a response as she sat down beside Nikki. “We can’t keep doing this.”

“I know. I was a complete arsehole.”

“How do you think it makes me feel when you always assume the worst of me?” Helen's voice wasn't so much angry as tired. “Do you really believe I'm that cold and heartless? Why are you in love with me if that's the case?”

Nikki was silent for a moment. “I don’t think that. I just…I've been hurt so many times that I expect it to happen again any minute. So I jump all over things rather than wait to see what’s actually going on.”

Helen absorbed the comment. “I suppose I can understand that, especially since I’ve been the one to hurt you more than once, but that was while we were in Larkhall, and you’re the one who keeps telling me we’re not there anymore. What can I say that will convince you that I’m completely in love with you?”

“I know you love me, Helen.” Nikki shook her head. “All I can tell you is that from now on, I'll do my best to really think before I open my mouth. Will you give me the chance to try?”

There was a part of Helen that didn't want to, that tiny part born of pride and weariness and hurt, the part that kept trying to flee whenever things became heavy or difficult. But the larger part that included her heart easily overrode it. She loved Nikki in a way she had never loved anyone before. That was something she couldn’t deny, though she had tried more than once.

“You know I will.” She sighed softly. “You keep forgiving me for walking out, after all.”

Nikki's eyes warmed perceptively. “That's because I've finally figured out that you always come back sooner or later.” She reached over and touched Helen's knee lightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to such a conclusion. It won’t happen again, I promise.” She paused. “Are we okay?”

Despite herself, Helen felt her lips curl in a small smile. “Until the next time, at any rate.”

Nikki reacted to the smile and dredged up one of her own. “Come here,” she said softly.

Helen closed her eyes as she felt the arm slide around her shoulders, pulling her over to the lanky body. Nuzzling into Nikki’s neck, she inhaled her scent, a mixture of shampoo and soap, and realized that she must have recently taken a shower.

“I really do love you, sweetheart,” she whispered.

“I love you, too.” Nikki brushed her lips over her forehead. “Believe me, Helen, this relationship will be worth all the aggravation in the end.”

“I know.” She lifted her face and Nikki's mouth covered hers, kissing her with such tenderness and devotion that it made her tremble. Until Nikki, Helen had never believed that a simple kiss could convey so much emotion. Once they parted, she sighed quietly and snuggled into Nikki's body, resting her head on her shoulder.

“Are those pictures of your Mum?” Nikki asked after several moments where they did their best to heal from yet another bump in their road.

For a brief second, Helen felt an incredible sense of violation, as if Nikki had intruded into where she didn't belong, before remembering that she had been the one who told her to go into the top drawer in the first place.

“Yeah,” she muttered after a moment. “They're all I have left of her.”

Nikki picked up on the tone in her voice and she tightened her embrace, hugging Helen comfortingly. “She was a very beautiful woman. You look a lot like her.”

“You think so?”

Helen didn't necessarily believe the assessment but she felt a spurt of pleasure, nonetheless. Isobel Stewart had been all that was good in the world during the first nine years of her daughter's life. She had even made Helen's father bearable, because when he was around his wife, he was more amiable and even a little affectionate. But that ended abruptly when Isobel died, and after that, there was only the stern and unforgiving man who never approved of anything his daughter did, no matter how much she tried to please him, until finally, she just stopped trying.

“And I think,” Nikki added thoughtfully, “if she had the chance to know you now, she'd be so very, very proud.”

Helen abruptly felt very close to tears. Despite the fact that Nikki couldn't know anything of the sort, she really wanted to believe the words spoken with such certainty. “I hope so.”

Nikki kissed her temple with infinite gentleness and didn't speak any further. Somehow, she seemed to understand instinctively that Helen didn’t want to pursue the conversation beyond what they had. Closing her eyes, Helen let herself drift away in the warmth of her arms, surrendering completely to the love she had found there.

 

Nikki knew she really had to be more careful in the future. No more jumping to conclusions, she told herself firmly. Especially jumping to conclusions that ascribed the worst possible connotation to the situation. If she had to bite her tongue and count to ten every time she thought about opening her gob, then, by God, she would do it, even if it meant biting her tongue clean off.

There was a quiet little rumble in the general vicinity of her stomach, but she knew it didn’t come from her. She glanced down at Helen’s face and saw that she was looking vaguely embarrassed.

“Hungry?”

“Starved,” Helen muttered. “Serves me right for storming out of here so close to dinner.” She paused. “I reckon we can order some take out. It shouldn’t take that long to get here.” She looked momentarily dismayed. “Will it?”

“Or you can have some of the lasagna I made,” Nikki offered dryly. “There’s plenty.”

Sheepishly, Helen dipped her head. “God, how long was I gone?”

“Long enough for me to finish cleaning out the shed. And bake a lasagna. I haven’t eaten either. It’s still in the oven.”

“Oh.” Helen exhaled and sat up, pulling away as she looked at Nikki solemnly. “You really don’t like it when I take off, do you? Whether I come back or not.”

Nikki knew she had to be very careful with that, especially in light of everything that had already happened that day. “Sometimes it worries me while you’re gone, Helen, and that’s because I don’t know where you are or what’s happening to you. But I’m starting to realize it’s something that you need to do to get your head together, and it doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with me or our relationship.”

“It doesn’t.” Helen faltered and when she spoke again, her voice was very low. Nikki had to strain to hear her. “When I was young, sometimes it was the only way I could live. When Mum was sick…and then afterward…when it was too much, I’d just leave. I'd go for walks in the hills and through the woods. If I stayed, he’d only say mean things…hurtful things.” She glanced up, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “The way I sometimes do.”

Nikki let out the breath she just realized she’d been holding. “Oh. Okay.” She hesitated, knowing she had to say something right for a change, and hoping she could find the words. Reaching up, she put her hand on Helen’s shoulder. “I love you. That means that I love you enough to let you go and I love you enough to welcome you back…every time.”

Relief flooded her when Helen closed her eyes and leaned into her once more, seeking the shelter of her embrace. For once, Nikki’s mouth hadn’t betrayed her, and she thought that if she really worked at it, maybe she'd become good at this soppy stuff. She squeezed Helen lightly and gave her a nudge. “C’mon, that lasagna should be done by now.”

Out in the kitchen, Nikki put on some oven gloves and pulled out the casserole dish, suddenly realizing how hungry she was when she smelled the delicious aroma of cheese and tomato sauce. A vegetarian for the most part, though she still ate animal products like eggs and cheese, there was no meat in her creation. She hoped Helen wouldn’t miss it.

The table was already set, with candles and a single rose in a vase. Helen, already seated, was regarding the preparations with an expression that Nikki couldn’t quite identify. “You did all this?”

Nikki shrugged as she put the dish on a heat mat and cut the lasagna into sections. “We never really celebrated your new job. I wanted to do something special. Especially after I screwed up so badly this afternoon.”

“Nikki,” Helen began, and then paused, obviously searching for the words. “It was my fault. I should have told you that I’d lost the letter to begin with. Then you would have realized what had happened as soon as you found it.” She took a breath. “I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed that I could have lost something so special.”

“It’s okay, Helen.” Nikki said softly as she took a seat opposite her. “I think it’s because we still don’t talk enough. We assume things and we have fun and we make jokes and we make love, but it’s not enough.” She waited until Helen had taken a portion of lasagna before taking some for herself. “The problem is that we really don’t know each other. We just think we do.” She poked at her lasagna lightly before finally taking a bite. “I know what your favorite book is, but I really don’t know why you like Sophie’s World so much. I know how you like your coffee, but I don’t know how you felt about Zandra’s dying from a brain tumor. And I know that if I kiss that spot on the right side of your neck, it turns you on, but I don’t know why I wake up sometimes in the night and find you crying.”

Helen looked down at her plate, her voice soft and almost shy. “I like Sophie’s World because the first time I read it, so many things suddenly made sense to me. When Zandra died, I was devastated. I couldn’t even go to her memorial service because I would have made a complete fool of myself. We let her down, Nikki. I let her down. If she’d had any kind of competent medical care…” She stopped and took a deep breath. “Sometimes I cry at night because I look at you lying beside me, and I love you so much that I can hardly believe that you’re really there.”

She looked up, her green eyes luminous as they met Nikki’s curious gaze. “I know you’re a vegetarian, but I don’t know if it’s a philosophical objection or just that you don’t like the taste. I know you and Trisha were together for nine years, but from gossip I hear at the club, it seems a lot of women have rather fond memories of you. And I know when you wake up in the night it’s usually because you’ve been having a bad dream, but I don’t know what it’s about because you never say. You just reach out and hold me as if you’re afraid to let go.”

Nikki took another mouthful of lasagna, granting herself time to find the words. “I have a philosophical objection to eating meat,” she said finally. “Do you know how they prepare animals for market?”

Helen lifted a brow. “I do come from a farming village, Nikki.”

“I’m not talking about the ones fresh from the farm, I’m talking about the big business abattoirs.”

“Sorry sweetheart, I just can’t give up my lamb chops no matter what horror story you want to tell me.”

Nikki eyed her with a touch of amusement, quite familiar with that stubborn tone. “Before Trisha, back when I was young and stupid,” she continued, “I was considered something of a ‘player’ in the community. When I started waking up with women and didn’t even know their name, that’s when I knew it was time to settle down. Fortunately, Trish came along at just the right moment.”

“And you were jealous of the few men I’ve had in my life?”

Nikki didn’t dignify that with a response. “As for the last, the dreams are usually about being locked up in a small space and knowing you’re being hurt but unable to do anything about it. Then I wake up, and you’re right there with tears in your eyes and all I can do is hold you because I’m scared of the answer I’d get if I asked.”

Helen was looking at her intently. “Don’t be afraid of asking me anything, Nikki. Ever.”

“Okay.” Somehow, as they talked, they managed to finish dinner. Nikki didn’t even remember what it tasted like. She glanced at the clock ticking quietly on the wall above the sink. “We should turn in. You have to be up early.”

Helen followed her gaze and frowned. “It’s half eight, Nikki. I only need seven hours, and God knows, there’ve been plenty of times I’ve gotten by on less.”

“I was thinking that even if we turn in now, you'll still might have to get by on less.” Nikki offered a lidded look.

“Oh.” Helen blinked and then smiled approvingly. “Oh! Good thinking.”

“Besides, I probably won’t see you for a few days.”

That dimmed the smile somewhat, but Helen’s expression remained tender as she regarded Nikki. She returned the look, and without the need to speak any further, they set about preparing for bed. While Nikki did the washing up, which consisted primarily of storing the leftovers in the fridge and putting the dishes in the dishwasher, Helen gathered up her files from the living room and shoved them into her briefcase for the morning. She was already undressed and under the covers when Nikki switched off the light in the hall and joined her in the bedroom.

Nikki paused inside the doorway to look at Helen tucked up in the sheets. She had lit a couple of candles, and the way she looked in their golden glow was well worth taking the time to appreciate it.

“What’re you waiting for?” Helen’s voice was husky and a touch impatient.

Nikki smiled and leaned against the frame of the door. “Did you know that I’d always watch for you out my cell window when you arrived for work. Just seeing you would be enough to get me through the day. You’d walk across the yard with your files and your briefcase, and you were always carrying a cup of coffee. For some reason, you always managed to be a few minutes late.” She didn’t mention who had pointed out that last to her. The very few good memories of Larkhall were too outnumbered by the bad to taint one more by adding the incidental presence of Fenner to it.

Helen returned the smile and stretched languidly, putting one arm behind her head and not-so-accidentally allowing the sheets to slip down so that her breasts were exposed. Nikki noticed that the dusky rose nipples were already erect, and felt a corresponding rush of moisture between her legs.

Helen’s tongue appeared briefly between her teeth as she looked at Nikki. “Undress for me.”

Nikki tilted her head, intrigued by the expression in Helen’s eyes, and proceeded to do so with all due consideration and care. Each article of clothing that was slowly and deliberately removed seemed to deepen the heat in that molten gaze and by the time Nikki finally slid her black lace panties down her long legs, Helen’s breath was quick and uneven.

Kicking them away, Nikki didn’t wait to see where they landed, walking over to the bed. As soon as she was within reach, Helen stretched out her hand and slipped it between Nikki’s thighs to touch her intimately. Feeling the woman’s gaze on her like a palpable force, Nikki’s legs grew weak, and she twitched helplessly as Helen's fingertips swirled over her.

“God,” she breathed, hips undulating.

“You’re so wet.” The Scottish accent thickened, as it often did when Helen was in the grip of strong emotion.

Nikki closed her eyes, putting a hand on the bedside table to brace herself against the maddening sensation. Already, she was close to coming and she hadn’t yet made it onto the bed. She almost wept when Helen withdrew, but it was only to urge her onto the duvet and down on top of her where she promptly resumed the ardent caresses with her mouth.

Knees to either side of Helen’s head, Nikki pressed against the wall at the head of the bed for support, the smooth surface cold against her stomach and breasts, making her nipples ache. The feel of Helen’s lips and tongue on her was incredible, the pleasurable demand rising in such strong waves that when it finally peaked, she inadvertently smacked her forehead against the plaster while jerking forward in her climactic spasm.

As the delight faded, the pain of the impact took precedence and putting her hands to her head, Nikki groaned and fell sideways onto the bed, sprawling over the duvet. “Ow. Fuck.”

Helen sat up between Nikki's legs, looking at her in dismay. “God, Nikki, are you all right?”

Nikki gritted her teeth. “I hit my head.”

“I wondered what that thump was. I suppose I shouldn’t have moved the tapestry to the other wall, but I didn’t realize we needed cushioning there.” Helen glanced at the wall, then back at Nikki, mouth twitching before finally, she broke down and started to laugh. “Sorry, sweetheart,” she managed between the snorts and giggles. “I’ll move it back.”

“Maybe you should.” Nikki looked at her sourly, but the absurdity of the situation made itself felt, and she started to laugh as well.

Helen’s mirth finally subsided, and she crawled up over Nikki, ruffling her hair gently. Tenderly, she pressed her lips against her forehead. “Better?” she murmured lovingly.

Nikki groaned again. “A little.”

“So, you really do have a headache?”

Helen sounded so disappointed that Nikki immediately wrapped her up in her arms and rolled them over. “Not anymore,” she assured her as she looked down into those sparkling eyes. “Besides, haven’t you heard? Sex is supposedly a surefire cure for a headache.”

“Really? Then I prescribe two, and be sure to call me in the morning.”

Nikki kissed her, tasting herself on Helen’s mouth and finding it wonderfully provocative. “Only two?”

“I do have to be up early,” Helen reminded her with mock primness.

Nikki kissed her again, deeper this time. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll let you get some sleep tonight.”

“Eventually.”

 

Helen was nervous as she entered the big brick building that housed the Home Office’s Correctional & Rehabilitation Policy Unit. It had been more difficult for her to find work than she'd anticipated in the months after leaving Larkhall. Though her credentials were more than adequate, she did have two incidents on her record of quitting without notice. First, by leaving her position as wing governor without much of an explanation beyond 'personal reasons' and 'stress', and even worse, this last time by walking out abruptly as Governor without any warning at all.

There was no way of explaining why she had packed up her office and left without revealing that she’d essentially been blackmailed by Jim Fenner into resigning. She didn't even work out her notice, and that reflected on her employment record in a way that made other Home Office departments somewhat wary of hiring her. She was starting to become worried as the months went by and interviews that initially seemed so promising failed to develop beyond the preliminary stage. She did look at a few positions in the private sector, but she didn't feel she could make the same sort of difference there that she could within the government. Besides, there was a sort of security in being a civil servant that appealed to her. She'd never admit to it, of course, but it still had a bearing on her decision to pursue those openings more avidly than she had the various security and managerial positions outside the prison system.

Though she never let on to Nikki how uneasy she was becoming as her bank account steadily diminished and the bills started to pile up, she was as much relieved as she was pleased when she was finally offered the position in this division of the Home Office.

Straightening her shoulders beneath her tailored blazer, she took a firm grip on the leather handle of her briefcase as she strode down the corridor with a confidence she didn’t necessarily feel inside. A uniformed officer was at the desk in the lobby, and he offered her a smile as she presented her identification.

“Three floors up and to the right,” he instructed as he motioned to the lift.

“Thank you.” Several people joined her in the elevator and she felt a comfort in being part of this huge organization. Others may have been disdainful of the bureaucracy contained in these walls … Nikki immediately came to mind … but Helen understood and respected it, even liked it in her own way. It made her feel like an important part of a much larger whole.

Della Hines, who headed up this department of the Home Office and had interviewed Helen, was in the outer reception area when she entered. A stocky woman, with graying, curly hair and deep blue eyes, she smiled widely when she spotted the newcomer. “Helen. Welcome to the Unit. Ready to get started?”

Helen returned the smile weakly. “I can’t wait.”

“Let me introduce you to the rest of the team.” She nodded at the young woman behind the desk. “You’ve already met Sarah, of course.”

The bubbly blonde, who had been present during Helen’s interview process, offered a vivid and toothy grin. “Good to see you again, Miss Stewart.” She appeared much younger than her twenty-five years, like a teenager rather than the competent administrative assistant Della had assured Helen she was. “It’s great to have you on board.”

Everyone was so bright and enthusiastic in this place, Helen thought glumly. She wondered if it was because Della had made a point of surrounding herself with such people. If so, then she hadn't a clue why she’d been hired. All her youthful chirpiness had long since disappeared while working at Larkhall.

Della gestured to the first door on the left. There were four more radiating from the reception area and a short corridor leading back to the conference room, lunchroom and toilets. Della’s office, where Helen was interviewed, was in the center, directly behind the desk where Sarah reigned. “Of course, you’ll be working closely with Mr. McAllister, our other program coordinator.”

The name was the only warning Helen had, and it hadn’t quite registered before Della knocked lightly at the door and opened it to the small office. The young man behind the desk looked up, his level eyes brightening as he spotted his visitors.

“Helen!”

“Dominic?”

Helen knew her mouth had fallen open and managed to close it before Della glanced at her with a quizzical frown. “I gather you two already know each other?”

Dominic stood up, his square body looking odd in the suit and tie. Helen was far more used to seeing him in a prison officer’s uniform, or in casual clothes from the few times they had been out together socially. The suit made him look like a boy dressing up in his father’s clothes.

“I’m so pleased to hear you’re joining the unit,” he said, reaching out to take her hand, shaking it firmly.

“Uh, thank you.” Aware that Della was still staring at them curiously, she took a breath. “Dominic and I worked together at Larkhall.” She looked back at him. “The last I heard, you were still in Greece.”

Dominic suddenly looked a little uncomfortable. He had resigned from Larkhall over the phone after not returning from holiday. While in Greece, he’d met a woman and apparently fell hard for her…so hard that he chose to remain on the Isle of Crete rather than return to his position on G-Wing.

“It didn’t work out,” he explained shortly, and Helen decided she didn’t want to hear the details. Fortunately, he didn’t appear to want to offer them. Instead, he smiled again and looked at her with a certain familiarity that didn’t exactly bode well. “This is going to be brilliant.”

All Helen could think was that ‘brilliant’ was the absolute last thing Nikki Wade would consider this unexpected development.

“Miss Hines?” Out in the lobby, Sarah held up the phone. “You’re wanted on line 101. It’s Mr. Walter at Correctional Services.”

“All right, I’ll take it in my office.” Della glanced back at Helen. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. Dominic can show you where you’ll be working and introduce you around.”

“No problem.” Dominic sounded thrilled with the opportunity.

Della disappeared, shutting the door behind and leaving Helen alone with him. She composed her features and met his steady gaze.

“How long have you been here?”

“About six months now. I think you’ll like it a lot here, Helen. Della makes sure things get accomplished rather than just talked about.”

“That’s part of why I accepted the position. She has a reputation for stirring things up.”

He scratched his neck and exhaled audibly. “You know, I uh, heard about Nikki Wade’s appeal.”

Well, that hadn’t taken long, she thought. “Yeah, it was really good news.”

“Are you and she still…” He trailed off uncertainly.

“We’re together.” Helen decided that the sooner she got that out of the way, the better.

“Oh.” He looked vaguely disappointed, but it was possible she was imagining it. “That’s great, Helen.”

“Thank you.”

There was a brief bit of awkwardness as they both searched for something to say. Neither had forgotten that Dominic had once fancied Helen, and it colored their relationship in a significant way, not to mention the fact that she had been his boss at Larkhall. Here, they would be on equal footing, and Helen wasn’t sure how that would work. In fact, she hadn’t been in a position without some kind of authority or autonomy for a few years, and that would also take some getting used to. She hadn’t explained to Nikki that this position was a huge step back for her professionally, not necessarily when it came to the salary, which was decent, but certainly in power and prestige, if one could call it that in the prison service. Here, she would be a player, but Della Hines was the main feature.

“I guess I should show you around.” Leading her across the reception area, he knocked on the door that boasted a small plaque. It was only door in the office that had a nameplate and she wondered what that signified.

In the office, a thin, wraithlike man with thinning hair stood up and stretched out his hand as Dominic introduced them. “This is Dr. Paul Davis. He’s the onsite consulting psychologist.”

“Nice to meet you,” Helen said. Glancing around the walls, she noted several certificates and degrees. It seemed a trifle ostentatious.

“Welcome aboard, Helen,” he said somewhat pompously.

Paul’s manner was as fussy as his furnishings, and for some reason, it set Helen a little on edge. She hoped it was only first day jitters. The last thing she needed was to get on the wrong side of one of her colleagues, or for him to get on the wrong side of her. She’d had entirely enough of that at Larkhall.

The other office on this side was locked and belonged to Dr. Joan Moore, another consultant. A medical doctor, she spent only one day a week at the Policies Unit according to Dominic, offering her expertise on the health issues concerning female inmates.

“She’s really keen on improving food and the gyms in prisons,” he told her as he led her to the last office, this one empty and intended for Helen. “She says that what would be spent there would be offset by the saving in medical costs. The inmates wouldn’t get sick so often if they had a proper diet and plenty of exercise.”

Helen glanced at him. “I’d have to agree.”

“Yeah, but…” Dominic trailed off as he opened the door and showed Helen her new workspace. “Here we go. I heard a rumor that we’ll be getting some new computers soon.”

Helen looked around. The walls were painted a rather discolored gray, but they were clean, and the floor had obviously just been polished. The battered and scarred desk was a veteran of many years in Her Majesty’s service, but it had been outfitted with a keyboard tray, and the chair looked as if it had been selected with a token effort at ergonomic application.

Helen eyed the computer, trying not to appear intimidated. She hadn’t used one during her three years at Larkhall since that place still operated primarily in the Victorian era, and heaven only knew how rusty her typing skills were. That was assuming she could even figure out the software advancements in the years since she’d last worked with one. Nikki was using one at the club. Maybe she would share a few pointers.

Dominic must have caught her expression because he smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, Helen, it’s pretty simple. We’re working with Excel and PowerPoint…just basic Office stuff and while Windows NT is obsolete now that 2000 is out, it still gets the job done.”

Helen put her briefcase on the desk and tried not to let on that most of what he’d just said was absolute gibberish. “You were about to say something about Dr. Moore’s take on where resources would best be allocated? You don’t agree that diet and exercise are important?”

He looked so reluctant that Helen knew something was up. “I’m not sure I should say anything before you meet her. You need to make up your own mind about her presentation at the staff meeting.”

“C’mon, Dominic. I’m counting on you to help me through these early weeks.” She didn’t realize her tone had become somewhat playful until he blushed and looked away. She gave herself a mental rap on the knuckles and reined it in.

“It’s just that… when she talks about the benefits of good health in the inmates, it’s not like she’s talking about people or patients, Helen.”

“No?”

“No, it’s more like…like a vet talking about how best to look after a herd of cows. It’s kind of creepy sometimes.”

Helen blinked. “That’s quite an assessment, Dom.”

“I know. That’s why you should make up your own mind. I could be way off base.” He offered a tentative smile. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gotten it completely wrong.”

She knew exactly what he was referring to, that ill-fated attempt at a kiss way back when, and her subsequent confession of her true feelings for another woman. After another awkward smile, he made his goodbyes and headed back to his office. Finally, alone to settle in, Helen looked around and wondered how this was going to work out.

Already, she had encountered an old friend, someone she suspected she wasn’t going to like, and a subtle warning that the fourth team member was a little off the wall. Not to mention the fact that technologically, she was starting in a big hole. And she hadn’t even been here an hour yet. Frowning, she stared at the dark screen of the computer and wondered how she was supposed to turn the bloody thing on.

Thursday nights at Chix were becoming as popular as Fridays, Nikki thought as she looked over the main floor from the second level. She wondered if they should start thinking about closing later that night as well.

There was no question that the club was doing fine, and she knew much of it was due to Trisha. It was Trisha who'd had the idea to bring the pub atmosphere into the nightclub setting, setting up two levels within the building, as well as scheduling specific events for each night. On Monday, they pulled out the big screen so the patrons could watch a new television show that was surprisingly liberal in its depiction of lesbian relationships, making the evening a long and rather raucous fan club meeting. Nikki didn’t know what they’d do if the show was canceled, but hopefully, there’d be another one to come along, and during reruns, Chix offered viewings of lesbian films like Desert Hearts and Bound. Tuesday, it was dart and pool tournaments, with the telly tuned into Sky Sports for the competitive minded. On Wednesdays, drinks were offered two for one, making it a favorite night for the professional women to drop in, not to mention those who liked a cheap drunk.

Thursday had become Retro Night, with lots of sixties, seventies, and eighties music and an atmosphere that appealed to an older crowd of lesbians in their late thirties, forties and fifties. Nikki enjoyed talking to these women, though some of them occasionally regaled her with stories about being gay in those early decades that made her glad she was a member of a slightly younger generation.

Down on the main level, the dance floor was packed, as was the long bar. There also seemed to be a large contingent in the games room in the back where the three pool tables and several dartboards were located. The upper level ran the circumference of the club and looked down onto the dance floor. It boasted several tables and was constructed to keep most of the sound below, allowing the patrons to talk comfortably above the music. Snacks in bags, crisps, pretzels, and popcorn in fifteen different flavors could be purchased at the small bar, which limited itself to lager and alcopops. The DJ booth was up here, suspended over the dance floor, and through the clear windows, Nikki could see Liza bopping along to the beat of the Bee Gees and ‘More Than A Woman’. With spiky blonde hair and tattoos adorning her arms, the young DJ reminded Nikki a great deal of a fellow inmate named Shaz Wylie, but to her knowledge, Liza had yet to try to poison the customers with bad oysters.

All the bar staff were on duty tonight. Carol and Melissa tended the chaotic main floor while the less experienced Dana and Alice took care of the more laidback drinkers upstairs. Lydia, the large, squarely built bouncer with snowy hair that sometimes put Nikki in mind of a polar bear, circulated casually, alert for any trouble that she would handle with a delicacy and diplomacy that belied her massive form, keeping in contact with her assistants, Emily and Rhonda, via small ear mikes. Behind the bar, Nikki could see Trisha helping out and wondered if she should go down there. Even as the thought crossed her mind, Trisha looked up, spotted her leaning over the rail and waved, indicating that she was coming up to join her.

Nikki watched as Trisha slipped from behind the bar and navigated through the crowd, pausing every so often to greet someone new or have a word with an old friend. She was really in her element here, and it was hard to reconcile the cool businesswoman with that shy and sweet young girl who first managed to tame the wild woman, Nikki Wade. Trisha had put on a few pounds over the years, but she wore it well, providing pleasing curves to her firm body. Her blonde hair curled slightly around her collar and her steady blue eyes looked out on the world with an easy charm.

They’d had seven years together, then two more with Nikki in prison until the harsh reality of being separated finally shattered the bonds of their relationship when a lonely Trisha had turned to someone else. Sometimes Nikki wondered what would have happened if there hadn’t been someone else, or if Trisha had begged for another chance in that fateful visit to the prison. Would Nikki have resisted the charms of a certain wing governor who showed her such kindness and attention in the harshest of worlds? Or would she and Trisha have eventually broken up anyway, leaving her to fall for Helen as a matter of destiny? She guessed she’d never know.

She did know how fortunate she was that their friendship remained solid and they were able to continue to work together. She lifted her chin in greeting when Trisha finally reached her.

“Hiya, Nikki. Good crowd, tonight.”

“Not bad at all.” Nikki shot a look at her. “You’ve done a really fine job here, babes.”

Trisha smiled, pleased by the compliment. “This whole thing was your idea. Remember that first year? We both lived upstairs in that hole in the wall, expecting the bank to foreclose on us at any moment, leaving us without even a roof over our heads.”

Nikki shook her head, smiling at the memory. She and Trisha had met in a little lesbian club that had long since passed into history, where Nikki worked the bar and Trisha worked her way through the local FE college in pursuit of a business degree. After becoming a couple, an inheritance from Trisha’s great aunt financed their purchase of this building and the start up costs of Diva, as Chix had originally been called before a police officer’s unfortunate demise at Nikki’s hands. Over time, Nikki had paid Trisha back her half of the investment out of her share of the proceeds, but it had been somewhat dicey in those early years when it looked like they would not only lose their shirts, but everything else they owned as well.

Trisha leaned against the rail and glanced over at her, her expression gently quizzical. “You’re looking down, ‘Nik. Still a bit much for you?”

“It’s not that. It’s just…I haven’t seen Helen since Monday morning. I talk to her on the phone every evening but it’s not the same.”

Trisha nodded sagely. “It’s not easy when work isn’t compatible. Thinking of getting a day job?”

“The trouble is that I really like working the club, Trish. I always have. I enjoy meeting people, talking with them, and having this social atmosphere around me all the time. I can’t imagine myself in some office somewhere stuck behind a desk pushing papers. It would bore me stupid.”

“So do something like running the club, but with daytime hours.”

“Such as?”

“Well, I heard a rumor that the cafe down the street is about to go on the market. Apparently, he’s gone bankrupt and is finally closing down.”

“The dump on the corner?” Nikki lifted her brows. “Helen’ll be devastated. She loves the place.”

Trisha nudged her with her elbow, a familiar gesture. “Try to stick to the subject, ‘Nik.”

“And that is?”

“That place has been a dive since we moved down here. The rest of the district improved, but not that place. It looks exactly the same now as it did then.”

“So?”

“So, it’s still around, and from what I hear, it’s his fondness for staying late at the casino that’s draining the profit, not any lack of business. What does that tell you?”

“That despite a complete lack of investment from the owner, it still has some kind of draw.” Nikki thought about it. “It sure as hell can’t be the décor or the food. Has to be the location. There are clubs all over, but the business suits in the area really don't have any other place to eat at lunchtime.”

“Exactly. So why not take a look at buying it?”

“You mean, sell out my share of Chix and start a restaurant?” Nikki felt a pang at the thought. There was a security in the nightclub that was more important to her than she realized until this moment, and it wasn’t entirely monetary.

“No, think of it as us expanding Chix,” Trisha said with her infectious brand of enthusiasm. “We’ll do it together, but while I’ll continue to run the club, you can manage L’il Chix. We can turn that place into a cute little bistro, a place for the gays to have breakfast after a night of clubbing, and the suits in the area to get a half decent lunch. Close at three and you’ll be home in time to get Helen’s dinner.”

The last was said a bit sarcastically but Nikki chose to overlook it. It was a very appealing idea, and not just for the hours that Trisha suggested. But it was also a risk, requiring a lot of capital and investment from the two women in an uncertain economy.

“Do you really think it’ll work?”

“It’s a better idea than you becoming more and more miserable until you finally ask me to buy you out.” Trisha put her hand on Nikki’s forearm. “As well as we’re doing, I really can’t afford to buy you out at a fair price, and honestly, I don’t want to bring in some stranger to take over your half of the business. We built this place together. It’s like our child, and you should always be a part of it.”

Nikki decided that wasn’t a simile she was ever going to share with Helen. Somehow, she didn’t think she would understand … or worse, she’d understand perfectly and have even more reason to be wary of Trisha.

“Are you sure the café’s going on the market?”

“It might only be a rumor, but even if it is, that doesn’t have to stop us from making a reasonable offer for the place.” Trisha tilted her head. “What do you say?”

“Let’s go for it. The worst that’ll happen is that he’ll say no.”

Trisha made a face. “No, the worst that'll happen is that he’ll say yes and we’ll put in a shitload of work and money only to see it all go down the bog in the first year.”

Nikki laughed. “Aren’t you trying to talk me into this?”

“Got to know the risks as well as the rewards,” Trisha told her, smiling as she glanced back over the crowd below. Suddenly, she stiffened.

Frowning, Nikki tried to follow her gaze and couldn’t see anything that might have caught her attention. “What?”

“Isn’t that Claire? Over there at the bar?”

Nikki almost asked ‘Claire who?’ before she spotted her former solicitor in the crowd below. She lifted her brows, unused to seeing Helen’s friend in such informal clothing, or outside legal surroundings. It was obvious she wasn’t here to see her former client since she had ordered a drink, a large one from the look of it, and was carrying it up the curved stairs leading to the second level. She didn’t appear to notice Trisha and Nikki standing at the railing. Instead, she went over to the wall where sofas and chairs had been arranged to provide conversation pits and found a quiet corner where she took a seat and a healthy swallow of her drink.

“I wonder where Heather is?”

This one Nikki could rightfully sound ignorant about. “Who’s Heather?”

“Her partner, she’s in advertising. They’ve been together for more than fifteen years, ever since university.”

Nikki glanced at Trisha, more than a little disconcerted when she saw her still staring at Claire with an oddly intent expression. “How do you know all that?”

Trisha tore her eyes away with an effort. “Claire and I got to know each other quite well while we were working on your appeal, ‘Nik. She showed me how to come up with the petitions, how to drum up support from the community, how to work the publicity in the right places.” She looked back at Claire. “Does she look upset to you?”

Mystified, Nikki took another look. “Well, she looks like she’s been crying and she just ordered another round from Rhonda, so I think the answer’s yes.”

“I’d better go talk to her.” There was real concern in Trisha’s voice.

“Good idea. Looking at a face like that is bound to put people off their drinks.”

Trisha shot her an unexpectedly vicious look that set Nikki back on her heels and made a beeline for the corner where Claire was rapidly downing her second drink. Bemused, Nikki watched as Trisha sat down near Claire and began to talk with her intently. Occasionally, Trisha would touch Claire's arm or her leg in gestures that seemed more caring than Nikki would have expected. She guessed they must have become fairly close friends over the past year and wondered if Helen knew that.

Better yet, she wondered if this mysterious Heather knew it. She’d suspected Claire was gay from the first moment she met her, but she’d never really confirmed it. Once she’d determined that Helen had never been interested in her, it just never came up as a topic of interest for her again. She frowned as she watched the two women, one obviously in need of comfort and other apparently more than glad to provide it.

She needed to talk to Helen about this, but she wasn’t going to do it over the phone. This was definitely more an intimate, late night pillow talk sort of discussion.

 

Helen glanced at Nikki across the breakfast table…though for her, it was the dinner table after arriving at the flat at three in the morning. She’d greeted a sleepy but very pleased Helen at six o’clock with a fully prepared meal of spinach quiche and fresh strawberries for dessert, listening attentively as she chatted verbosely about her week at work. Now, as they lingered over coffee and the morning newspaper, Helen debated whether now was the time to tell her. She knew she’d have to eventually, and this was the first opportunity she’d had to do it in person. It wasn’t the sort of thing she cared to discuss over the phone.

“Nikki?” Dark brown eyes focused on her above the newspaper. Helen was going to smile; decided it would look patently false and exhaled slowly instead. “You'll never guess who’s working with me at the Policies Unit.”

“You're right, I wouldn't.”

“Dominic McAllister. Apparently, it didn't work out between him and the girl he met in Greece.”

Nikki contemplated her for a long moment. Helen wondered what she was thinking. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope, he’s the other Programs Coordinator.” She hesitated but decided that it was best to get it all out at once. “We’ll be working pretty closely together.”

There was another long silence as Nikki absorbed this. Then, to Helen's complete astonishment, Nikki shrugged and went back to her paper. “It'll be nice for you to have someone there that you've worked with before. Maybe we should invite him over to dinner some night.”

Helen stared at her, absolutely dumbfounded. “Who are you and what the hell have you done with Nikki Wade?”

“Hey, you're the one who told me to stop assuming the worst about everything. At least, give me some credit for trying.”

Abashed, Helen dipped her head. “I do,” she said in a gentler tone. “I'm sorry for thinking you'd fly off the handle. I suppose I’m the one who’s guilty of jumping to conclusions now.”

Nikki made a bit of a face as she flipped the page. “Well, it's not as if you don't have reason. I've always had a temper, Helen. It just became a bit more controlled in prison.”

“You mean it was worse before?” Helen blinked, appalled.

Nikki chuckled, though it seemed somewhat devoid of humor. “Not quite. I was always quick to shoot off my mouth, but then it'd be over. Now, I let it build up until it gets away from me. Not sure if it's worse so much as different.” She paused, suddenly pensive. “You know, Helen, my existence is now defined as before Larkhall, during Larkhall, and after Larkhall. It's like I lived three completely different lives.”

“I think that's probably to be expected. If it's any consolation, my life is now defined as 'before meeting Nikki' and 'after meeting Nikki'.”

Nikki laughed again, and this time it was honest humor. “You mean, when you were hetero and now that you’re homo?”

“I wouldn't have put it like that.”

Nikki just shot her a look that spoke volumes, warm and affectionate, and Helen was reminded yet again why she loved her so much. She slipped out of her seat and went around the table. Hastily folding up the paper, Nikki put it down just in time to pull Helen onto her lap, hugging her tightly as she responded happily to her kiss.

“I love you, Nikki,” Helen whispered.

“I love you, too,” Nikki assured her. “I'm sorry I give you such a hard time that you worry about telling me things.”

“I think I give as good as I get. That's probably why we were meant for each other.”

Nikki cupped her cheek and looked at her soberly. “Are we meant for each other, Helen?”

“Of course we are.” Helen nuzzled her gently. “Sweetheart, when I tell you that I've never felt this way for anyone before, I'm not trying to be romantic; it's just the plain, simple truth. You're everything that I've ever wanted or needed, and didn't even know it until you came into my life.”

Nikki tilted her head back and eyed her from beneath lowered lashes. “So you’re saying there’s no reason for me to ever feel jealous.”

“Absolutely no reason at all.” Helen kissed her nose. “I told Dominic that we’re together now. He was very pleased to hear about your appeal.”

Nikki didn’t look entirely convinced about the last part, but she smiled and squeezed Helen gently. “Well, the little ‘git was the best of a bad lot. I suppose I can live with the two of you working together now. You know he’s seen me naked.”

Helen blinked, blindsided by the casual comment. “What?”

“Remember that brilliant idea you had? The one where you were going to single handedly win the war on drugs, except the only one who actually had to squat over a mirror was me?”

Helen winced. “I remember.” It had not been one of her better moments during the early days at Larkhall.

“I was standing there in my cell with the DST, completely naked, the door wide open, when along comes McAllister. He glances over and immediately stops dead to take another, much longer look at what I had to offer.” Nikki paused, her mouth twisted slightly and it wasn’t entirely in amusement. “Not much wonder he backed off when he knew you were interested in me. He couldn’t possibly hope to compete.”

“Oh, Nikki.” The words had been deliberately light, but Helen could hear the edge of humiliation that threaded through them, barely perceptible and only to someone who was so in tune with every small inflection the woman utilized. “I’m so sorry.”

Nikki shook her head slightly, obviously trying to shrug it off. “Hey, just another fun story to tell at your first Christmas party. But the next time he tries to flirt with you, you might want to remember what the pair of you have in common.”

Helen couldn’t think of anything to say. All she could do was tighten her hold about Nikki’s neck and pull her close in a comforting hug. Initially stiff, Nikki abruptly relaxed, dropping her head onto Helen’s shoulder.

“You know, the worst part about my job in Larkhall was the inequality of everything,” Helen said after a while where she just held Nikki as lovingly as she could. “If an inmate made a mistake, the inmate suffered. If a prison official made a mistake … the inmate suffered. It wasn’t fair.”

“Preaching to the choir here,” Nikki told her quietly.

“I know, but that’s why I need you to be here for me. You have to remind me just what’s at stake when I become too impatient or too lost in the process to see the consequences. I want to be able to tell you everything about what I do, and I want you to be the first to tell me when it’s good or it’s shit or it’s completely mad.”

Nikki was silent for a moment. “I’m not going to be here on a regular basis, Helen, except maybe for Sundays.”

“Then I’ll just have to save it up for Sundays then,” Helen said, with a lightness she didn’t feel.

“Yeah.” Nikki didn’t look satisfied.

“I have to get ready for work.”

“Sure.”

Helen put her knuckle under Nikki’s chin and drew up her face until the brown eyes met hers squarely. “We’ll figure this out, sweetheart.”

Nikki continued to frown for a few seconds more before her expression relaxed. “I know we will.”

“Thank you for breakfast. It was absolutely lovely.”

Nikki kissed her. “You’re welcome. Now go. You don’t want to gain a reputation for chronic lateness your very first week.”

“Right. Have to have at least a month go by before I start up with that.”

Gratified when that generated a smile, small but genuine, Helen kissed Nikki again and reluctantly slipped from her embrace. In the bathroom, she showered quickly and put on the clothes she had chosen the night before. As she applied her makeup, Nikki stuck her head in the bathroom door.

“I’m going to sack out in your bed for a while. Is that okay?”

Helen met her gaze in the reflection of the mirror. “Of course, it is. You don’t have to ask.” She lifted her chin as she touched up her foundation. “When will I see you again?”

“You know how crazy Friday nights are. We’re packed to the rafters with baby dykes on the pull. I’ll probably be knackered by the end of it.”

Helen nodded. “I don’t want you to drive while you’re tired.” She thought about it as she stroked her lashes with mascara. “I’ve got loads to do tomorrow morning and that’s before I get to grips with the contents of my washing basket, so I really can’t come by tonight. What if I drop by the club tomorrow night and spend Saturday evening with you?”

Nikki offered a particularly sweet smile. “That sounds wonderful.”

Helen returned the smile and resumed her preparations as Nikki disappeared from sight. Then she gathered up her mobile and briefcase and stopped by the bedroom door to look in on her beloved. Nikki was just settling down on the linen sheets, her long, bronzed body sliding beneath the ivory duvet. Her dark eyes brightened when she saw Helen and she leaned on her elbow, turned toward the door.

“Do I get a kiss good-bye?”

Helen hesitated, an agony of indecision. “God, you look so good lying there, sweetheart. I don’t know that I dare.”

Nikki grinned. “We won’t risk it, then.” She pursed her lips and blew her a kiss.

Helen favored her with a bittersweet smile and turned away. Crossing the living room, she glanced at the clock, determined that she had five more minutes before she absolutely had to leave, and dropped her briefcase on the coffee table. Returning to the bedroom, she promptly pounced on the naked Nikki who welcomed her back with open arms.

“I can’t…stay…long,” Helen murmured between the long, sweet kisses.

“I know,” Nikki responded. “I’m ruining your makeup.”

“I’ll put it back on in the car.”

“How much longer?”

“Mmm, three minutes.”

Helen kissed down her throat, over her breasts and zeroed in on Nikki’s right nipple, flicking it lightly with her tongue.

Nikki gasped. “Oh, God, don’t do that.”

Helen’s response was somewhat incoherent, and completely oblivious to her lover’s objection. Fortunately, Nikki was keeping half an eye on the bedside clock and when the seconds finally ticked away, she pried Helen off her with no little effort.

 “You have to go.” Helen tightened her jaw stubbornly, but she knew Nikki was right. “Okay,” she said as she reluctantly pulled away. She deposited one final kiss on the woman’s warm lips. “I'll be thinking of you every minute.” With more determination than she wanted to fully acknowledge she needed, she managed to walk away from the woman tucked up in her bed without looking back.

Knowing if she did, she’d never get to work.

 

Nikki glanced at her watch, suspecting that she was going to be late whether she liked it or not. Stifling a sigh, she tried not to fidget as she waited for the lift to ascend, conscious of the closeness of the people around her. She supposed she would always hate enclosed spaces, no matter how long she was away from Larkhall. When the doors slid open, she stepped out into the posh restaurant with a sense of relief.

Monica Lindsay was already seated at their table. An older woman, elegant and refined, few of the people at the tables around her would ever suspect that she’d been in prison, yet that was exactly where she and Nikki had met. Though only peripherally involved in her boss’s criminal scheme, Monica had been charged with embezzlement and sentenced to several years behind bars. Separated from her son, who had Down’s syndrome, Larkhall had been a horrible shock to the woman, but she’d managed to survive, primarily with Nikki's help. When her son died, it had been Nikki who kept her from committing suicide, and Nikki who had somehow found a way to keep her going with her appeal. Once freed, she turned her resources and boundless energy to prison reform, and ran a halfway house for women on parole. She was one of the first people Nikki had looked up after her appeal, and they remained in contact ever since, the pair of them often having lunch at this restaurant overlooking the Thames.

Monica's long face brightened when she spotted Nikki crossing the restaurant, and she rose gracefully from her chair, reaching out to hug her with honest affection. Nikki always felt somewhat awkward around her, gangly compared to her grace. But their time in Larkhall bound them together in a way that even Helen could not share with her.

“It's good to see you, Nikki.” Monica's cultured tones always made Nikki’s vocabulary improve while in her presence. “Was traffic difficult?”

“Just got a late start,” Nikki admitted. “I overslept.”

She leaned back in her chair as the waiter dropped by their water and breadsticks. Once they had given their order and the waiter had departed, Monica’s dark eyes assessed her keenly. Nikki had told her the concern she felt regarding the incompatibility of her and Helen’s jobs the last time they had lunch, and the older woman wasted no time in picking up the conversation from there.

“How are you and Helen doing so far with your differing work schedules?”

Nikki sighed. “It's only been the first week, Monica, but it's already difficult. I was there to see her off on Monday, but I didn't get to see her again until yesterday morning, and only then, because I made a special trip over to make her breakfast. I caught some sleep in her bed, but I was really tired at the club last night, which is why I slept through the alarm today.” She raked her fingers unhappily through her hair. “It's just easier to go upstairs to my flat after a long night, but how can I explain that to her?”

“I'm sure she understands, Nikki.”

“Yes, but for how much longer? It's one thing to talk it through, and believe we can handle it. It's another to have to live with it like we’re doing now.”

Monica's gaze was compassionate. “What are your options? Certainly, you make it sound as if your relationship will suffer greatly if you're separated so much.”

“Trisha and I are going to put in an offer to buy the cafe a couple of blocks down from the club. If all goes well, I'll been overseeing the renovations and management of it. It might mean Saturdays and maybe even Sundays, but at least, I'll be there in the evenings when she comes home.”

Monica smiled. “That's wonderful, Nikki. Helen must be pleased.”

“I haven't told her yet.”

“Why not?”

“I want to know we have it for sure before I go getting her hopes up.”

“But just knowing that you’re making the attempt might make living with your current hours easier for her.”

Nikki flashed her a grin. “Are you giving me advice on my love life now?”

“I always did,” Monica reminded. What might be an impish gleam abruptly appeared in her eyes. “How is Trisha these days?”

“She’s fine. The club’s doing well and we’re staying friends. She’s making that part of it easy. Helen’s a little wary of her, but that’s because she knows Trish was interested in starting up with me again once I was out. It made her look at her as a rival, not just an ex.

“Ah, but Nikki,” Monica smiled at her, “isn’t your love life so much simpler out here?”

Nikki sighed. “You’d think that, wouldn’t you?” The conversation paused as their meals were served, and Nikki dug into her salad hungrily.
“When will you start hiring for this cafe, Nikki?”

“We don't even know if we’ll get it yet, Monica.”

“But when you do?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you consider hiring parolees to work there?”

“I hadn't thought about it. I suppose we could. After all, they need jobs as much as anyone.”

“More, Nikki. You don't know how fortunate you were to come out into a financially stable situation.”

“Actually, I do, Monica.” Nikki paused thoughtfully. “Why haven't you asked about us hiring your clients for the club?”

“Many of these women have a history of alcoholism and drug abuse.”

Flushing, Nikki lowered her eyes. “Right. I should have thought of that. Serving drinks is the last thing they should be doing.”

“And as much as I know and trust you, Nikki, I don't believe you can honestly tell me that there are no other drugs available at your nightclub.”

Nikki exhaled audibly. “No, I can’t. We throw out anyone we discover is dealing, and we’ve tried to keep it as clean as possible, but there’s no way to cover every angle. It’s ludicrous to think there’re none being used by the customers. They bring their own.”

“I can’t put any of my clients in a position like that,” Monica explained. “But a little café sounds like a good way to integrate these women back into society.”

“I’ll definitely keep it in mind,” Nikki promised.

The conversation moved on to other topics as they enjoyed the rest of their meal, and Nikki lingered over coffee and dessert until it was time to go to the club. Offering a hug to Monica, she promised to stay in touch and keep her updated on the progress of the café purchase.

As she took a cab back to Chix, she tried to curb her impatience. She wasn’t entirely sure what time Helen was planning to drop by, but she knew she couldn’t wait to see her. Missing her was an ache that seemed to have taken up permanent lodging in her chest, and she knew there would be no relief for it until she saw her with her own eyes.

She could tell by seven that it was going to be a busy night. The place was already packed and there was quite a queue at the door. She wondered how much it had to do with the weather, which was clear and warm, or the moon, hanging big and full over the London skyline. After telling Lydia to keep an eye out for Helen and make sure she was granted entrance immediately, she popped behind the bar to help serve the backlog of customers.

For whatever reason, it eased up a little around eleven. Nikki thought it was probably a case of the patrons catching a second breath so they could finish off the rest of the evening with a bang, but whatever the reason, she was grateful for it. She caught Trisha’s eye at one point and they shared a conspiratorial grin. Tonight’s takings were going to translate very nicely into their respective bank accounts.

She spotted Helen about fifteen minutes later. She was escorted by Lydia through the crowd, which was probably the only way she could have made it to the bar. Nikki finished serving her customer, and made her way down to the bar stool that had been summarily commandeered for the Scotswoman.

“What can I get you, Miss?” she yelled over the noise.

Helen grinned at her. “This is amazing, Nikki.”

“I know. It must be Pride week or something…only they forgot to tell me.”

Helen leaned over the counter so that their heads were closer together. “I’m going upstairs,” she shouted. “Wake me up when you come in.”

“It’ll probably be late.”

“I don’t care how late it is.” Helen reached out and snagged Nikki by the front of her shirt, pulling her to her. “Wake me up.”

Nikki smiled and kissed her, and then did it again because she needed to. Helen flashed her that tongue-in-teeth smile and started to work her way to the back of the club as Nikki went back to the taps. Maybe if they had been a little further along in their relationship where they took each other a bit for granted, or if she was a trifle more dedicated to what she was doing, Nikki wouldn’t have kept half an eye on Helen as she navigated through the crowd. Or maybe she would have known anyway, with an instinct that came from years of managing a nightclub compounded by those years in prison. In any event, when she saw a woman stand up and follow Helen through the door that said ‘Employees Only’, she was immediately alarmed.

“Melissa! Get Lydia. Tell her to come out back.” Nikki brushed past her head barmaid and ducked under the counter without taking the time to lift it up and go through. Shoving her way through the crowd without apology or any attempt at politeness, she hit the back door with her shoulder and barged through without hesitation.

Bare bulbs dimly lit the narrow corridor leading to the back door and out to the alley where the dumpsters were kept. A side door opened to the stairwell that led to the upper floors, but Helen hadn’t made it that far. The woman who had followed her, big and broad and with looks that made Al Mackenzie, the Peckham Gang’s resident butch, look like a beauty queen, had Helen trapped in the corner. Obviously drunk, it was apparent she was the type whose aggression was in direct proportion to the amount of liquor she’d imbibed.

She was mumbling what she undoubtedly thought were her best lines to Helen who was doing her best to defuse things with her responses, though for whatever reason, she wasn’t really doing a very good job at it.

“Oi! This area’s for employees only.” Nikki’s tone was even, with a calmness she was far from feeling.

The woman turned her head and glared at her, though she didn’t move either arm that was braced against the wall, trapping Helen neatly between them. Nikki was not at all encouraged by the look. The woman’s eyes were small and mean and put her uncomfortably in mind of a Rottweiler…or Jim Fenner.

“Piss off. I’m with my bird.” At least, that’s what Nikki thought she said. It was hard to decipher the thick cockney accent, and Nikki had lived in London for quite some time.

She took a step closer, aware of Helen’s gaze focused on her. She really did look frightened, which surprised Nikki somewhat, but on the other hand, the woman was very big, certainly on a scale with a certain DST officer named Carter.

“First of all, she’s my ‘bird’,” Nikki said coldly, wishing she had a cricket bat in her hand. She should have brought the one under the bar with her. Hindsight, Wade, she thought in disgust. You’re always working with hindsight, which does you no good at all. “And even if she wasn’t, she’s obviously not interested. Piss off out of here before I decide to have you chucked out.”

“Only if she’s coming with me.” The woman made a swipe at Helen who barely ducked out from beneath what would be a crushing embrace.

Nikki lunged forward and managed to impose her body between Helen and the drunk, giving the woman a shove back, or at least, trying to. It was rather like shoving a tree and about as effective. Fortunately, drink and surprise made her stagger a bit anyway, and gave Nikki some breathing space.

She glanced back at Helen. “Are you al…” she began.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the woman swing at her. Without thinking, and reacting purely on instinct, she managed to deflect it up and over her head with her forearm. Still using the momentum of the lunge, she performed a move that Shaz, studying kickboxing, had taught her not long before Nikki won her appeal. Before she quite realized what was happening, she had the woman in an arm lock, forced down on her knees in front of her, and every twitch indicating that she felt a great deal of pain whenever Nikki applied the slightest bit of pressure. Nikki didn't know who was more startled at this sudden occurrence: Helen, herself, or the drunk, who was obviously unused to being in this position.

“Ow. Let me up you cu…Ahhh.”

Nikki eased up a little, not quite sure what she should do next, but aware she needed to keep things as calm as possible. Unfortunately, Shaz had neglected to mention what the follow up move to an arm lock might be. She leaned over slightly and in her most reasonable tone, made the woman an offer. “Okay, what's going to happen now is that I'm going to let you up. You're going to apologize to the lady, and then you're going to get your sorry arse out of here. And you’re not going to get on my tits any more than you already have, because I won't be so bloody gentle the next time.”

Carefully, she released the hold and stepped back, heart pounding as she wondered what would happen next. She was aware of a large body barging its way through the door, and relief flooded her when she realized Lydia had finally made the scene, with both Trisha and Rhonda in her wake.

“Trouble, Boss?”

“No, Lydia, this one was just leaving,” Nikki said coldly, pleased when her voice didn't shake at all. “Escort her out and make sure her friends go with her. Make it very clear that they’re all barred, and let them know she's the reason why.”

All the fight was gone out of the drunk. She mumbled an apology to Helen who didn't acknowledge it, and went quietly with Lydia and Rhonda who led her back out into the club. Nikki watched her go and then turned to Helen. The Scotswoman's expression was one of abject fury and, to Nikki's complete astonishment, it was directed at her.

“What did you think you were doing? I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” Angrily, Helen pushed past her, shoving her aside as she slammed through the side door and up the back stairs.

Bewildered and hurt, Nikki was about to go after her when a quiet voice from down the hall said; “Let it go, 'Nik.”

Nikki looked over to meet the level blue eyes of her business partner. “Trisha, she's upset.”

“I know, way out of proportion to what happened.” Trisha looked thoughtful as she walked down the corridor toward Nikki. “She should be able to handle an obnoxious dyke who's had too much to drink. She ran a prison after all. Has anything else ever happened to her?”

Nikki stared at her, unsure of what she meant at first, before she closed her eyes and groaned. “Christ, Fenner. He assaulted her, Trish, a few months ago.” She made another move for the stairs when Trisha put a hand on her arm, forestalling the attempt.

“Let me.”

Nikki frowned. “Why you?”

The look she offered spoke volumes. “Because I know exactly how it feels to have to be rescued by you.”

Helen sat on the sofa and shook, ashamed and angry and scared. When she heard the key in the lock, she closed her eyes, clenching her fists. She didn't want to have to deal with Nikki now. Why couldn't she do the smart thing and walk away for once? But the woman who walked through the door was not tall, dark and devastatingly sexy. Instead, she was blonde, solid, and hardly Helen Stewart's biggest fan.

Trisha dropped the keys into her pocket. “Sorry, but I didn't think you'd answer if I knocked.”

Helen rose to her feet, outraged that the woman would intrude at a moment she was feeling so defenseless. “Did Nikki tell you to come up here?”

“Don't be stupid,” Trisha said dismissively.

Moving over to the kitchen area, she started opening cupboards until she located a box of tea bags, ignoring Helen's disbelieving glare.

“She wanted to come up but I told her I'd look after it,” Trisha continued as she worked. “After all, nobody knows better than me what it feels like to have Nikki Wade come flying to the rescue.” She switched on the electric kettle and turned around to look at Helen. “And no one knows better what it feels like to be unable to handle a situation and have Nikki suffer the consequences when it’s left up to her to deal with it.”

Helen exhaled slowly, feeling some of her anger recede. The reminder of just who this person was, and what Nikki had once done for her, was like a dash of cold water. It didn't make her like Trisha any better, but she did have to grant that no one else would have more insight on a situation that, in comparison, was so much less than the one that had sent Nikki Wade to prison.

“Nikki's always going to step in, Helen,” Trisha added conversationally as she took some mugs out of the cupboard and placed them on the table. “You could've been a complete stranger and she still would have tackled that behemoth without a second thought. You're never going to change that about her, so you might as well just accept and love her for it.”

“I don't think I need advice from you.” But Helen's tone lacked the heat that she wanted it to.

“Well luv, you need it from someone, because you're not doing so well on your own.”

Defeated, Helen took a seat at the table. “You don't fool me, Trisha. I know you'd take Nikki back.”

Trisha smiled without humor. “In a heartbeat. And you’re certainly doing your part to pave the way for me. I could be down there right now, offering a shoulder and showing her what it means to have a woman appreciate and accept her for who she is. Instead, I'm up here trying to pound some sense into your thick Scottish skull. I must be stupid.”

“So why are you then?”

Trisha shot her a glance. “Because I love her,” she said patiently, as if to a particularly dim-witted child. “I love her enough to let her go. And if you're what she needs to be happy, then I’m happy for her. Besides, no matter how much I might want it to be different, she's not in love with me anymore. I knew that on the steps of the appeals court. She was finally free and still, the only person she could think of was you, even though you'd already told her to sod off a half dozen times.”

“I know how many mistakes I've made with Nikki,” Helen said gratingly.

Trisha looked intrigued. “Really? Then why do you keep making them?” Helen didn’t have an answer for that, and Trisha shook her head sadly. Carrying over the teabags, she dropped one into Helen's cup, and one into her own before retrieving the kettle that had shut itself off. Pouring the hot water into the mugs, she put it back on the counter before taking a seat across from Helen and contemplating her with keen eyes. “This isn’t about what happened downstairs.”

Helen found herself unable to meet that level gaze. “I don’t know what you mean,” she mumbled.

Trisha’s scrutiny didn’t waver. “I think you do, Helen. You’re the capable sort. Not the kind to back down just because someone’s being obnoxious, no matter how big they are. Something’s got you vulnerable and that woman tapped into it without really knowing what she was doing.”

Helen felt trapped. She wanted to run but there wasn’t anywhere to go.

“What happened, Helen?” Trisha’s tone was suddenly so gentle that Helen couldn’t stop the rush of tears to her eyes. She picked up her mug and sipped it, almost splashing it over because of how hard her hand was trembling.

“I was…” She swallowed hard. “One of my colleagues sexually assaulted me.”

“Someone you worked with. Someone you should have been able to trust.” Trisha dipped her head. “Like you should a police officer.” Their gaze finally met and there was a moment of complete understanding between them. “Did you see someone about it?”

Helen took another sip of tea, finding the liquid restorative on a level that defied explanation. “A therapist, you mean?”

“That would be the recommended course of action. I suspect you’d recommend it quick enough had it happened to someone else.”

Helen couldn’t deny that. “I did write up a formal complaint.” She felt sick. “I haven’t heard anything about it, and I should have by now. Obviously, it’s been swept under the carpet and he walks away untouched. Again.” She put down her cup and raked her fingers through her hair. “God, I hate this. I hate how it makes me feel.”

“I know. The worst part about the whole thing with Gossard is how much I blame myself.”

Helen’s professional response to that was immediate. “It wasn’t your fault, Trisha.”

“I’m not talking about him trying to rape me. I understand that bit.” Trisha grinned without humor. “You see, I did get therapy, but all the head shrinking in the world doesn’t change the knowledge I live with. I was the one who gave him the opportunity to try. I knew what kind of untrustworthy sod he was. I knew it wasn’t wise to be alone with him. But that night, in the bar, I thought I could handle it. I convinced myself I was dealing with a rational human being instead of a predator. Every instinct I had told me to turn around and get out the second I saw him, but I didn’t.” She shook her head fretfully, eyes dark at the memory. “We’re taught to ignore our instincts, Helen. That’s something our civilization does really well to women. We shouldn’t let fear rule us, but we should know when fear is the proper behavioral response and pay attention to it. I chose not to.”

Helen thought of that night in the office when she saw Jim Fenner standing by the filing cabinet. She remembered the look in his eyes, and the tone in his voice. She remembered how the fear had rose fast and strong in her chest and the urge to run hammered in her head, but pride beat it back because to leave would have, in her mind, let him win on some level, and she couldn’t do it. Of course, in the end, he won anyway. She swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat as Trisha continued.

“Because I wasn’t smart enough to walk away, the woman I loved had to rescue me and it cost her five years of her life. It would’ve cost her a lot more if it hadn’t been for you and Claire.” Her voice became hard and cold. “I blame myself for being stupid and ignorant about the law, and not having the best possible legal counsel for Nikki from the beginning. I blame myself for not doing the petitions and the lobbying and everything else years earlier when it could have prevented her from ever being imprisoned in the first place. I blame myself for not trying to make a difference when it really counted.”

Her eyes were chips of blue ice. “But mostly I hate that she killed the bastard instead of having the guts to do it myself.”

Helen felt as if there wasn’t any air left in the room, and she inhaled deeply, trying to get some into her lungs. “Then you would’ve been the one who ended up on G-Wing.” It was a ridiculous thing to say, but it was out her mouth before she could stop it.

It stopped Trisha dead, and she looked at Helen blankly. “So…you’re saying we’d be shagging now instead of you and Nikki?”

That was even more ridiculous, and for a moment they just stared at each other. Helen started to laugh first. It was a touch hysterical and not at all appropriate, but she couldn’t help it. Trisha resisted a moment longer, but then followed suit. They laughed until they cried and then they laughed some more, because sometimes that was all a person could do when the alternative was to just give up and wither away. The sadder it was, the funnier it became and they ended up leaning over the table in boneless heaps.

That was how Nikki found them when she came in, unable to bear waiting downstairs any longer. She stared at the two of them in complete consternation, and the look on her face only caused more hilarity until finally, their bodies simply wouldn’t let them continue. Helen was so grateful she hadn’t drank any more tea than she did, but as soon as Trisha left, staggering slightly and still giggling, she made a beeline for the bathroom to relieve a very stressed bladder.

When she came out, Nikki was cleaning up the tea and glancing over at her with a very odd expression. “Should I even ask?”

“I couldn’t possibly explain.” Helen went over and wrapped her arms around Nikki’s waist, looking up into her strong features. “But I do know I owe you a huge apology, sweetheart. I’m sorry I was so horrid to you downstairs. Thank you for rescuing me.”

“You’re welcome.” Still a bit bemused, Nikki held her close.

For a long moment, Helen absorbed the comfort and strength of Nikki’s arms, before her conscience niggled. “Don’t you have to go back? It’s only half twelve.”

“I’m taking off early tonight,” Nikki said with a firmness that indicated she wouldn’t be argued out of it. “I let Lydia know before I came up, and she’ll tell Trish.” She started to say something else, hesitated and instead, just tightened her embrace. “Are you okay, Helen?”

“I am now that you’re here.” Helen buried her face into the crook of Nikki’s neck and shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much this week, Nikki. I need you to hold me.”

“I won’t let you go.” The promise wrapped around Helen, granting her an incredible sense of security as Nikki nuzzled her hair. “C’mon,” she said after several moments. “Let me chuck a few things into a bag and then I’ll take you home.”

Startled, Helen lifted her head to look at her. “We can stay here.”

Nikki shook her head. “No, I don’t think you…” She paused, as if about to say one thing, and then changed her mind. “I want to do some work in the garden tomorrow morning.”

Helen regarded her for a moment, suspecting that wasn't all there was to it, but then nodded. “Okay.”

“I’ll meet you downstairs.” Nikki hugged her again before nudging her toward the door.

Down in the club, Helen looked for Trisha and found her behind the bar. “You two about to head out?” Trisha’s expression was emotionless, as if the previous hour had not happened.

“Nikki’s taking me home.” There was a pause as Helen looked at the woman whom she had considered a threat, and instead, had turned out to be a very good friend when she needed one. “Trisha…” she began.

“Hey, no problem,” Trisha interrupted, holding up a hand to forestall what Helen was about to say. “I think it was good for me to blow off a little steam. I don’t get the chance very often.”

“Anytime you need to talk…” Helen trailed off. “I’ll see you around.”

Trisha smiled thinly. “Yeah, you probably will.”

Nikki joined Helen a few minutes later, carrying a rather large bag. Helen was impressed at the size, but didn’t say anything. She just hoped it meant Nikki would be leaving even more of her things at the flat. It was possible that she didn’t need to maneuver her into moving in with her. Maybe Nikki would just simply be there after a certain amount of time because her possessions already were.

“Do you want me to drive?” Nikki asked as they left the club and headed for Helen’s car.

She hesitated before handing her the keys. “Is your insurance up to date?”

“Of course.”

Helen eyed her suspiciously a moment as Nikki tossed her bag into the back seat, but finally got into the car. The truth was, she suddenly felt exhausted and it was safer for the more alert Nikki to drive through the Saturday night traffic, whether her insurance was up to date or not. She must have dozed off at one point during the trip home, because the next thing she knew, they were parked outside her flat, the car door was open, and Nikki was leaning over the passenger’s seat, gently kissing her awake.

She sighed and slipped her arms around Nikki’s neck, kissing her back. When they parted, Nikki looked down at her devotedly. “Hey, you’re home.”

Helen, wrapped up in those loving arms, smiled happily. “I certainly am.”

 

Lying in bed, Nikki kept an eye on Helen as she came out of the bathroom, toweling her hair dry. She appeared to be doing all right now, but there was no question the incident at the club had left her shaken. And as tired as she was, she made a point of taking a long, hot shower as soon as she was home.

After she finished with the towel, Helen tossed it over the back of the chair nearby and slipped out of her fluffy terrycloth robe before crawling into bed and snapping off the light. In the darkness, she turned over and wrapped herself around Nikki, pressing into her with a craving that was borne of a need for comfort rather than anything remotely sexual. From the exhaustion Nikki sensed, she thought she would fall asleep immediately, but instead, Helen put her head on the same pillow, her lips mere millimeters away from the club owner’s ear.

“Nikki?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m going to see a therapist.” There was a soft expulsion of breath. “The incident with Fenner … I need to talk to someone about it. Someone professional.”

Nikki blinked, rather surprised but very relieved to hear it. “I think that’s probably a good idea.”

“It won’t be Dr. Waugh.”

“And don’t think I’m not grateful for that.”

Helen laughed softly. “I thought you would be.” She slipped her leg across Nikki’s thighs, again not as a sexual gesture, but one of putting as much of herself in contact with her lover as possible. “And you were right, Nikki.”

“About?”

“Our jobs. It’s been really difficult this week … more difficult than I thought it would be.”

Nikki nuzzled her tenderly, reaching up to take the woman’s hand that was resting on her upper chest, twining her fingers into hers and squeezing gently. “I’m working on that, Helen. You know that café down the street from the club? It’s going out of business.”

“Och.”

“No, it’s a good thing. Trisha and I want to buy it and turn it into a bistro. If it works out, Trish will stay with the nightclub and I’ll take over managing the new place. We’re thinking of turning it into a breakfast/brunch/lunch establishment that won’t have to be open past three in the afternoon.”

“Really?”

“Fingers crossed.”

“They are. When will we know?”

“Might not be for awhile.” Nikki exhaled. “I wasn’t going to tell you until I knew for sure, but I thought about it, and realized you should know that I’m exploring options. Our relationship is really important to me, Helen. I’ll do whatever I can to make it work.”

“Thank you, Nikki. I’m glad you told me.” She brushed her lips over Nikki’s jaw. “I’ll do whatever I can, too.”

“But if our offer is accepted,” Nikki continued, “it’s going to take a lot of capital, probably from the personal accounts as well as the business one. I was hoping that you and I would be looking for a house in near future, but if this happens, I probably won’t be able to afford my share of one for a good long time.”

“Then I reckon you’ll just have to move in here.”

“Now how did I know you were going to say that?”

Helen made a small sound of amusement. “Because I’m not nearly as clever as I like to think I am?”

“That, too.” Nikki hesitated, and then added softly, “Helen, I'm not sure I'm ready to move in with you. Not because I don't want to, but because I'm scared of what will happen if we jump into it too quickly.”

“Nikki, before this week, we’ve spent every night together, either here or at your place. How would living together be any different? Certainly, if you're really tired after a late night in the club, then of course, you should stay over in the flat, but the rest of the time, I want you to consider this your home.”

Nikki ran her fingers gently along Helen's arm. “Darling, do you remember just after you split up with Sean, when you came back to the prison after your leave? You called me into your office and told me for the umpteenth time that there was no way there could be anything between us.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Nikki smiled in the darkness. “You said something about knowing it wasn't going to work out with Sean as soon as he moved in with you. What did you mean by that?”

Helen hesitated. “I don't know, Nikki. It was a long time ago.”

“I realize that,” Nikki persisted, “but was it something you said because living with him was difficult, or were you just trying to avoid admitting that I meant something to you, which is why the two of you really broke up?”

“What does it matter?”

Nikki wondered if Helen was being deliberately obtuse or if she honestly wasn't getting it. Maybe she wasn't explaining it properly. “I want to know if there was something about having him live here with you in your home that made the relationship fail.”

“Oh.” Helen sounded vaguely embarrassed. “Sorry, sweetheart. I thought...” She trailed off.

“What? That I was being bloody minded again?”

“Something like that,” Helen admitted sheepishly.

Nikki exhaled audibly, but she kept at it. “So how'd you know?”

“Can you give me a minute to think about it?”

“Sure.”

She was silent for so long that Nikki wondered if she'd fallen asleep and had successfully avoided the subject after all. She was on the verge of dozing off herself when Helen finally spoke.

“I was the one who talked Sean into moving in with me. He had the same reservations you do, about us moving too quickly, but after working on him for an entire month, he finally gave in.”

“And?”

“Once he was here, he discovered he liked it, and I discovered I didn't.”

“Why?”

“He always left the toilet seat up,” Helen said immediately, in an aggrieved tone.

Nikki laughed. “That’s not going to be a problem with me. The only time I might leave it up is because I’ve just cleaned it.”

“Sean never cleaned the bathroom.” Helen sighed and rubbed her cheek against the slope of Nikki’s chest. “But that’s not what it was really about. It just wasn’t what I thought it would be, but by the time I realized that, it was too late. I kept telling him to consider the flat to be as much his as mine, but when he did, I resented it. The worst time was when he invited a couple of his friends to use the flat while we were on our honeymoon. I was absolutely furious.”

“Ah.”

“Do you think I’d feel the same way about you living here?”

Nikki squeezed her fingers lightly. “Would you?”

Helen didn’t answer right away. “I don't know,” she said finally, in an obvious attempt to be as honest as she could. “I'd like to believe I wouldn't, but you're right, living together can be different than just 'staying over' all the time. All the little things that don’t matter in your own space suddenly do when you’re in someone else’s.” She leaned closer and kissed Nikki's neck. “Still, I know that what I felt for Sean isn't nearly what I feel for you. I also know that after a while, when he wasn't here, I didn't particularly miss him. When you're not here, I miss you so much I can hardly think. This past week has been horrible.”

Nikki made a sound of agreement. “It was. But maybe it'll get easier.”

She could hear Helen breathing softly in the darkness. “Do you want it to get easier?”

“No, but I also don't want to move in here and have you resent my coming in at half two in the morning and waking you up. I don't want to feel like a guest here, and I don't want you to feel like I'm an intruder invading your territory. That's why it might be better for us to wait a little while and get a place of our own, one where we're both starting from scratch, and with a little more room so we can each have our own space.”

“I thought you said if this bistro idea goes through, you couldn't afford your share of a house.”

Nikki smiled. “Not one in suburbia with a gigantic yard with trees and extra bedrooms for kids, if we decide to have some down the road. Not to mention, enough space for a dog and a cat or two.”

She heard Helen catch her breath. “Is that where you see us eventually, Nikki?”

“Yeah, I suppose I do. Why? Where do you see us?”

Helen put her head back down on Nikki's shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever looked that far ahead.” Her voice was very quiet. “You're rather traditional, aren't you, sweetheart?”

“That surprises you?”

“It does. I've never thought of you like that.” Helen exhaled softly. “You must have thought I was mad when I went on and on in the art room about signposts and our life together not being normal, when all along, you're the quintessential suburbanite.”

“Well, I wouldn't go that far.” Nikki nudged her. “What did you think it would be like with us?”

“I reckon some modern flat in the middle of the city, attending meetings and rallies, visiting art galleries and museums, traveling in the arty circles, that sort of ... well, I suppose I was thinking 'gay chic' when I thought about it at all.”

Nikki started to laugh. “Gay chic?” she repeated. “What the hell is that?”

There was a wounded silence. “Are you making fun of me?”

With an effort, Nikki swallowed back her laughter and hugged her close. “Not at all, darling. I just never heard the term before.” She thought about it a moment. “Is 'gay chic' what Claire and her girlfriend are?”

Helen seemed surprised by the question. “I reckon. That’s probably where I got it. That’s their life all over.”

“Have you talked to Claire lately?”

“Not for a few weeks.”

“So you don't know if there's trouble there?”

“What, between Claire and Heather?” Helen's tone was incredulous. “Impossible. They've been together forever. Certainly for as long as I've known them, and I’ve known them since university.”

“Okay, but I saw Claire Thursday night at the club and she seemed a little upset.”

“What about?”

“I don't know. Trisha talked to her, I didn't.”

“Then how do you know she was upset?” Helen asked in a reasonable tone.

“Because she was crying and ordering doubles. I'd say that's a pretty good indication.”

“What did Trisha say?”

“Nothing. Did you know that they became pretty good friends while they were working on my appeal?”

Helen was silent a moment. “No, I didn't know that. She must have worked with Claire in the mornings. I could only work with her in the evenings and weekends, and I never saw Trisha around.” She poked Nikki, suddenly suspicious. “What are you getting at?”

“Not a thing,” Nikki said evenly, deciding she shouldn't mention the expression she noticed on Trisha's face whenever she looked at the solicitor. Besides, she could easily have been imagining it. “But maybe you should give Claire a call. See what's up. I'm sure she'd like the chance to talk about her love life for a change, rather than yours.”

“Smartarse.” Helen suddenly yawned and snuggled closer. “Sweetheart, I’m almost unconscious.”

“I’m surprised you held out this long.”

“I enjoyed talking with you. I didn’t want it to end.”

“We’ll talk again tomorrow.” She brushed her lips over her forehead. “G’night, Helen.”

“Night, Nikki.”

 

Sleep lifted like snow melting on a spring morning, slow and steady, with random trickles of awareness running through the soft layer of drowsiness. Helen sighed softly and rolled over in the warm nest of blankets, stretching out her arm only to find the cool sheets left in the absence of her lover. Slowly opening her eyes, she frowned when she realized there didn’t seem to be any noise in the house indicating someone was up and about. She turned her head and glanced at the clock on the bedside table, lifting a brow when she saw it was past lunch. Small wonder that Nikki had grown tired of waiting for her and had already started her day.

Slipping from beneath the duvet, Helen picked up her robe and pulled it on as she walked around the bed. Glancing out the back window overlooking the garden, she smiled when she saw Nikki digging enthusiastically in one of the flowerbeds, and tapped lightly on the window, putting her hand up against the glass and spreading her fingers when Nikki looked up and offered a jaunty wave. Helen's smile widened and, after a brief stop in the bathroom, she headed for the kitchen, hoping Nikki had left something in the coffee pot. There, she discovered a freshly brewed pot, as well as some fruit, croissants, danish and orange juice.

After appeasing her hunger, she poured herself a second cup of coffee and sipped it gratefully as she wandered back into the living room, contemplating what she wanted do for the rest of the day and what it would take to lure Nikki back inside. She stopped dead when she spotted the thin, rectangular object resting on the coffee table. A large red bow adorned the top, while a single red rose lay next to the card that had her name scribbled across it.

Astonished, Helen sat down on the sofa, set her mug down on the table and picked up the card. It actually took her a moment to recognize what the present was, and when she did, she felt her heart flip over.

“Oh, Nikki,” she murmured as she flipped up the lid to reveal the fifteen inch screen of the laptop computer. She started slightly as it played the Windows 2000 activation music.

“It should help you out at work.” Her voice made Helen jump a second time and she looked over to see Nikki standing in the doorway, her dark eyes bright with anticipation at the reaction to her surprise. “I figured that having one of your own would let you play around without worrying about messing anything up. I made sure there were a lot of tutorials installed for the software you use.”

“Nikki, I can't accept this.”

The woman’s brows immediately lowered, the smile transforming into a disbelieving frown. “Why the bloody hell not?”

“It’s too expensive.”

“I can afford it.”

“Yes, but…”

“Damn it, Helen…” Nikki began angrily, hesitated, took a slow, measured breath and moved over to the sofa to sit down beside her. “Darling, will you listen to me for a moment?”

Helen studied those dark eyes. “Okay.”

Nikki took her hands and brought them onto her lap, squeezing them gently. “Think about everything you’ve given me from the time you met me. You looked past the inmate and treated me like a human being, even when everyone else was telling you I wasn’t worth the effort. You gave me books in a place where I wasn’t allowed to have anything. Christ, you’re a reader. You should know what it means to be given books in a situation like that. That alone would be worth a hundred laptops, but you didn’t stop there. You gave me hope when there was none to be found. And in the end, after months of working your arse off, you finally gave me my freedom. Can you even comprehend what you’ve done for me? If I gave you everything I had, it still wouldn’t be enough to pay back everything I owe you.”

“Ah, Nikki…” Helen didn’t know what to say. Put in those terms, it was a trifle overwhelming. “There’s nothing to pay back. You don't owe me a thing. I wanted to do all those things for you.”

“And I want to give you this to help you out with your new job.” Nikki suddenly looked on the verge of tears. “Why won’t you let me do this for you?”

Helen felt like an utter shit. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” She searched for something to say that would take away that expression of hurt from her lover’s face. “You're right. It's a wonderful gift. Thank you.”

Nikki stared at her for a moment before the furrow on her brow finally smoothed out, but she still looked unhappy, her gaze shadowed and dark. Helen put her hand around her neck and drew her over, kissing her as tenderly as she could. “It's fine, Nikki. You just surprised me a bit, that’s all.”

“Surprising you was the point.”

“Yes, but you know I don’t react well to surprises.” She dipped her head to look into Nikki's eyes and offered a rueful grin. “Remember the night you showed up here after escaping from Larkhall? I didn’t react very well then, either.”

Nikki’s lips curved a little bit, though it wasn’t a smile by any means. “You slammed the door in my face. I still can’t believe you did that to me.”

“But you forgave me for it, didn’t you?”

“Once you let me in. Finally.”

“Will you forgive me for this?”

“I reckon.” She sighed quietly. “Will you not be such a ungrateful cow when I give you presents?”

“I’ll try,” Helen promised.

“Because I plan to give you more, you know.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, clothes, jewelry…a Maserati MC12, maybe.”

“Och, Nikki.” Helen was appalled. Nikki did smile then and Helen realized she was winding her up. “Cheeky sod.” Her brows drew down as she regarded her. “You wouldn't actually buy me a car, would you?”

Nikki leaned forward and burrowed into her neck. “In a heartbeat, if that's what you want or need,” she told her, the words slightly muffled. “Helen, I can't help it. I'm completely in love with you. If you want the moon and the stars, I'll find a way to get them for you.”

Helen was torn between being flattered and apprehensive at such largesse as she rested her cheek on the soft, dark hair. “At least promise that we'll discuss any large purchases that involve me?”

“Define large.”

Helen pursed her lips. “Anything over fifty quid.”

Nikki drew back to look at her reprovingly. “C’mon, Helen.”

“A hundred?”

“That’s not even a good leather jacket.”

She uttered an exasperated sound. “All right, anything over five hundred. I’m serious, Nikki. It’s too much. I’m not comfortable with it.”

Nikki considered it for a moment. “All right,” she said reluctantly. “I suppose that's fair.”

Helen resisted the urge to sigh. It was obvious that Nikki's view toward money and hers were on a completely different scale. It made her wonder exactly what she meant when she said the club was doing ‘well’. She hadn't really thought of it before, especially when Nikki appeared quite content living in that tiny flat with the tattered old furniture, but she did have to acknowledge that Nikki had a taste for fashion that was somewhat beyond Helen's means. Even now, dressed for working in the garden, grass stains and mud on the knees, Nikki's jeans were designer label, as were her t-shirt, jacket and cap. The only thing that was inexpensive were the gloves she had put down on the coffee table, the same ones retrieved from the crap drawer in the bedroom a week earlier.

Nikki watched the play of emotion over Helen’s face and obviously recognized what was going through her mind. “You have to remember, darling,” she said quietly, “I've spent the last few years living on two quid a week. If I decide to spend a little of what I have now, then you need to give me some leeway. It doesn't mean I don't know the value of what’s in my bank account.”

“I know, Nikki. I'll do my best to be less stroppy about it in the future.” Helen let out her breath. “Can I ask how much you might have in that account? Roughly?”

Nikki looked at her in a way that made Helen’s eyes widen. “You probably won’t like it.”

“God, how much?”

“Around two fifty.”

Helen needed a second to translate that into two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. “Jesus Christ, Nikki!”

Nikki laughed at the consternation in her lover’s tone. “Don't forget, Helen, that's five years of personal income with compounded interest. Chix is the largest lesbian-only club in the city. The rest of the gay clubs are all much smaller or targeted exclusively for men.” She paused. “Though if I owned one of those, my bank account would really make you sick. Gay men have a hell of a lot more disposable income than the women do, and they tend to hit the bars every night just to cruise and get laid. We actually have to come up with different events to keep our clientele coming in through the week.”

Helen shook her head, still feeling a little overwhelmed. “Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about you paying your share of the housekeeping when we do move in together.”

“No, you don’t.” Nikki squeezed her lightly. “Are you okay with us waiting a bit before we do? I really think we need to do things slow and steady. The last thing we need is to get ahead of ourselves.”

“You’re probably right.” Helen managed a smile. “I don’t want you doing anything you’re not ready for. But will you come over through the week? I don’t care if you wake me up by coming in late.”

“I promise.” Nikki bent her head, touching her forehead against Helen's. “We’ll work it out, darling. And then, when the time is right, we’ll make a home for ourselves.”

They regarded each other happily for a moment, and then leaned forward at the same time. Their noses brushed lightly, and they nuzzled each other a bit before their lips finally met in a slow, sweet kiss. Then they kissed again and Helen reached up to grasp the lapels of Nikki’s jacket, pulling her closer as she opened her mouth, deepening the kiss. Nikki responded immediately, groaning softly in pleasure as Helen slipped her hand inside the jacket to squeeze her breast through the thin material of the shirt, feeling the nipple harden sweetly against her palm.

“Come back to bed with me,” she murmured softly. “I want to thank you properly for your present.”
Nikki smiled. “That will only make me want to buy you more, you know.”

“I’ll risk it.”
Helen grasped Nikki’s wrists and pulled her from the sofa, leading her into the bedroom. They had the whole rest of the day, and she wasn’t about to waste it.

 

The End

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