Di/Natalie for sparklebunny
Title: Finding That Prince
Pairing: Di Barker/Natalie Buxton
Words: 755
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Set after the finale of series 7.
Notes: Happy Birthday sparklebunny! Here's some Di love for you.
None of this was worth Jim being dead.
Di liked to believe she’d still give the man the benefit of the doubt, before up and murdering him. Sure, he wasn’t the Prince Charming she’d expected, but no. No, she wasn’t capable of something that nasty. He was the man she’d planned on loving, for cryin' out loud. The one she’d decided was Mr. Happily Ever After.
She had made half-arsed plans of getting him killed, though. Just a little nudge, but. Not like a real murder. Just a kinda almost murder, and that's not a bad kind if you think about it. Still, on those days after he’d attacked her in Larkhall, she’d gone to sleep praying for his house to set on fire. Die, you sick bastard.
Fine. There wasn’t much point in lying to herself, was there? Di had to admit it was a pity she didn’t do it. A pity, is all, seeing as he was more of a toad than a prince. And it wasn’t like being Fenner’s murderer was an entirely shameful thing. At least not to the girls on G-Wing. And they’d bloody know, wouldn’t they?
“Thinking deep thoughts, you are,” Buxton snickered from the doorway of her cell. “Gonna write a book or something? Screw This: Tales of the screw that screwed Fenner?” She started laughing even louder. “Be a bestseller, that.”
“Shut it,” Di spat, immediately turning to face the wall.
“Oh, don’t get your knickers twisted, princess.”
Buxton might have loitered at the door a few moments extra, but it wasn’t as if Di cared enough to notice.
***
One week in that place. A week, and only one chance to bathe without them sneering over her shoulder. Janine, Darlene, even Tina - watching her like they were studying a freakish species. It didn’t make sense that she was given a dorm room, no matter how much better off Arun Parmar was in a single. Who cares about some mixed up little boy-girl? Wasn’t Di in more danger? Wasn’t her life worth more than some sodding con’s? She was afraid to turn her back, afraid of what Buxton would do if she saw how bloody terrified this place made her.
“You feel like screaming, precious, you just go right ahead.”
Di snapped her head around. “I’m fine.”
Buxton held her hands up. “Like I give a shit.”
“Would you stop creepin' up on me?”
Buxton snickered. “Christ, you’re all set to boil, ain’t ya?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Buxton shook her head. “You’re gonna get eaten alive in here, sweetheart.”
Di narrowed her eyes. “That’s Miss Barker to you.”
Buxton smiled sourly and made a show of glancing around the common area, before settling her eyes back on Di. “Nope, no Miss’s here that I can see. Not even if you still were a screw.”
Di clattered out of her seat. “I don’t need this rubbish.”
Buxton held her hands up. “Ok, look.” She gave Di a quick shrug that might have been an attempted apology. “I have a proposition for you, alright?”
Di crossed her arms. “You’re gonna produce a confession out of Jim’s real murderer, then?”
Buxon snorted disbelief. “Pull another one, will you?” she shook her head. “This is legit, yeah? So don’t you go squealing to Bodybag or nothin’”
Di held her gaze for a minute. “God, I don’t even want to ask.”
Buxton looked around to check that no one else was listening in on their exchange, then she placed her mouth beside Di’s ear. “You wanna make a break for it. For reals?”
“What?”
Buxton steadied her arm. “Keep it on the quiet. Or so help me God I’ll-”
“You’re off your bloody rocker!”
“Hey,” Buxton snorted. “Far as I’m concerned, you can rot in here.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Now who’s bleedin’ nutty?”
Di shook her head. “Why would you want to go helpin’ me, then?”
“None of the girls here are up for it, alright?”
"Small bloody wonder, considerin' you."
"The plan's decent," Buxton snapped, giving Di a cold look. “I just need another set of hands.”
"Me?" Di watched her, feeling no small amount of panic. “You can’t be serious.”
“Dead set.”
"No." Di's voice shook. "No."
"I know you mean't to say yes." Buxton held her gaze, then she smirked. “I’ll be ‘round your cell just before lights out. Yeah?”
Di shook her head and sighed. “Don’t try anything stupid on me.”
"Long as you don't, we'll get on marvelous."
There's a Prince Charming for everybody. You just have to kiss a lot of toads, and Di resigned herself to the perils of the search. Prince Charming might have been that bastard screw who wanted her dead. But maybe sometimes he's a nonce with an escape plan. Sometimes there’s nothing better than a couple of desperate cows and a one way ticket to a land far far away.
Pairing: Di Barker/Natalie Buxton
Words: 755
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Set after the finale of series 7.
Notes: Happy Birthday sparklebunny! Here's some Di love for you.
None of this was worth Jim being dead.
Di liked to believe she’d still give the man the benefit of the doubt, before up and murdering him. Sure, he wasn’t the Prince Charming she’d expected, but no. No, she wasn’t capable of something that nasty. He was the man she’d planned on loving, for cryin' out loud. The one she’d decided was Mr. Happily Ever After.
She had made half-arsed plans of getting him killed, though. Just a little nudge, but. Not like a real murder. Just a kinda almost murder, and that's not a bad kind if you think about it. Still, on those days after he’d attacked her in Larkhall, she’d gone to sleep praying for his house to set on fire. Die, you sick bastard.
Fine. There wasn’t much point in lying to herself, was there? Di had to admit it was a pity she didn’t do it. A pity, is all, seeing as he was more of a toad than a prince. And it wasn’t like being Fenner’s murderer was an entirely shameful thing. At least not to the girls on G-Wing. And they’d bloody know, wouldn’t they?
“Thinking deep thoughts, you are,” Buxton snickered from the doorway of her cell. “Gonna write a book or something? Screw This: Tales of the screw that screwed Fenner?” She started laughing even louder. “Be a bestseller, that.”
“Shut it,” Di spat, immediately turning to face the wall.
“Oh, don’t get your knickers twisted, princess.”
Buxton might have loitered at the door a few moments extra, but it wasn’t as if Di cared enough to notice.
***
One week in that place. A week, and only one chance to bathe without them sneering over her shoulder. Janine, Darlene, even Tina - watching her like they were studying a freakish species. It didn’t make sense that she was given a dorm room, no matter how much better off Arun Parmar was in a single. Who cares about some mixed up little boy-girl? Wasn’t Di in more danger? Wasn’t her life worth more than some sodding con’s? She was afraid to turn her back, afraid of what Buxton would do if she saw how bloody terrified this place made her.
“You feel like screaming, precious, you just go right ahead.”
Di snapped her head around. “I’m fine.”
Buxton held her hands up. “Like I give a shit.”
“Would you stop creepin' up on me?”
Buxton snickered. “Christ, you’re all set to boil, ain’t ya?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Buxton shook her head. “You’re gonna get eaten alive in here, sweetheart.”
Di narrowed her eyes. “That’s Miss Barker to you.”
Buxton smiled sourly and made a show of glancing around the common area, before settling her eyes back on Di. “Nope, no Miss’s here that I can see. Not even if you still were a screw.”
Di clattered out of her seat. “I don’t need this rubbish.”
Buxton held her hands up. “Ok, look.” She gave Di a quick shrug that might have been an attempted apology. “I have a proposition for you, alright?”
Di crossed her arms. “You’re gonna produce a confession out of Jim’s real murderer, then?”
Buxon snorted disbelief. “Pull another one, will you?” she shook her head. “This is legit, yeah? So don’t you go squealing to Bodybag or nothin’”
Di held her gaze for a minute. “God, I don’t even want to ask.”
Buxton looked around to check that no one else was listening in on their exchange, then she placed her mouth beside Di’s ear. “You wanna make a break for it. For reals?”
“What?”
Buxton steadied her arm. “Keep it on the quiet. Or so help me God I’ll-”
“You’re off your bloody rocker!”
“Hey,” Buxton snorted. “Far as I’m concerned, you can rot in here.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Now who’s bleedin’ nutty?”
Di shook her head. “Why would you want to go helpin’ me, then?”
“None of the girls here are up for it, alright?”
"Small bloody wonder, considerin' you."
"The plan's decent," Buxton snapped, giving Di a cold look. “I just need another set of hands.”
"Me?" Di watched her, feeling no small amount of panic. “You can’t be serious.”
“Dead set.”
"No." Di's voice shook. "No."
"I know you mean't to say yes." Buxton held her gaze, then she smirked. “I’ll be ‘round your cell just before lights out. Yeah?”
Di shook her head and sighed. “Don’t try anything stupid on me.”
"Long as you don't, we'll get on marvelous."
There's a Prince Charming for everybody. You just have to kiss a lot of toads, and Di resigned herself to the perils of the search. Prince Charming might have been that bastard screw who wanted her dead. But maybe sometimes he's a nonce with an escape plan. Sometimes there’s nothing better than a couple of desperate cows and a one way ticket to a land far far away.