Introduction to the Unexpected
Fandom: Bad Girls
Pairing: Helen/Karen
Summary: This is my first attempt at Helen/Karen, as I've noticed not a lot of fics contain this pairing.
Disclaimer: I have no ownership of Bad girls
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
If Helen’s throbbing heart beat didn’t betray her fear, she was sure her trembling hands, sweaty brow, and scarlet complexion would. She wanted to make up an excuse, provide some sort of explanation…
Silence. Her mouth had taken a temporary holiday, and she was left looking as guilty as Jim Fenner, locking up Shell Dockley’s cell after a “visit.”
Her feet refused to move and she was forced to stare blankly at Karen, with no chance of escape.
What the hell am I going to do?
“Well, are you going to answer my question, or stand there looking stupid?” Karen stood directly in front of Helen, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, and lips pressed firmly together. She was like a mother who caught her child’s hand in the cookie jar, but still demanded a confession.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.“
Not bothering to wait for a response, Helen brushed past her inquisitor, grabbed her purse, and hurried to her auto.
******
She didn’t sleep well that night. Tossing, turning, checking the alarm…
She got up several times to pace from her bedroom to the kitchen, all the while trying to figure out exactly what to say.
Maybe if I…no
If I act like nothing happened…
Could I say it was all in good fun?
Should I…no, she’ll never believe that.
As the night progressed, she became increasingly conflicted, and her stories more outrageous. In a few hours, she would be facing Karen. Would she force her to explain?
Shit, what if she tells Fenner…
Helen knelt in front of the toilet and finally relieved herself of the stress the past several hours had generated. If the previous evenings’ affairs were made known, Helen would never live it down.
The bloody bastard would have my arse-literally.
She finally gave up on sleeping altogether. She had no appetite, was uninterested in the morning news, and finished off her coffee only to avoid a caffeine headache.
Well, I’m going to make a smashing impression this morning, now aren’t I?
Helen cringed as her mirror revealed the physical evidence of her tumultuous night: dark circles had congregated underneath her blood-shot eyes, and her normally calm expression had been replaced with thin lines of worry.
This was shaping up to be a fantastic day.
******
“Rough night then, Helen?”
She was overjoyed to see Fenner’s snarl first thing after her arrival. He wasn’t exactly the welcoming wagon that she had hoped for, and was, in fact, one of the very people she hoped to avoid.
I hope he hasn’t talked to…
“One of the girls refuse to come home with you? I’m sure you’re use to rejection by now, but you really do need to pull yourself together. I wouldn’t want the Number One to find out how disheveled you look.”
“Oh, sod off, Jim. I don’t have time for this nonsense.”
She inwardly applauded herself for sounding a bit more confident than she actually felt. She was temporarily safe, after all. If Jim had talked to Karen, he would have used this opportunity to blackmail, jeer, embarrass…
After collecting her thoughts, Helen fled up stairs, out of Fenner’s sight.
Shit
The short conversation had done little to lighten Helen’s anxiety. Jim was never one to keep silent-especially when it came to Helen Stewart. She was positive the remaining staff would be informed of her appearance in mere minutes.
For a brief moment, she leaned against the worn, cold, block walls, to regain composure. The inmates hadn’t been let out for breakfast, and it was too early for the staff to do rounds.
Knowing the daily briefing would begin soon; she rested for a short stretch, and continued down the walkway.
She passed by the officer’s room, which was predictably occupied by Sylvia and Di. Both women never missed the chance to catch up on gossip while enjoying their morning tea.
Creatures of habit, those two. I’ll face them after the caffeine’s had a chance to kick in.
Sylvia glanced up just in time to catch Helen’s eyes
“My, my, Di. Someone doesn’t know how to handle their liquor. My Bobby always said-bloodshot eyes, smells like the pub-dark circles-all ways to tell someone’s a drunk.”
She shook her head and continued her speculations:
“Mark my words…Ms. Stewart’ll be a prisoner in Larkhall if she’s not careful. Those with the fancy degrees are never up to any good.”
Helen didn’t bother to hear Di’s retort. She was too busy thinking of Karen, Fenner, forbidden rooms, leather…
She was so engulfed in thought that she failed to pay attention where she was headed. Before the realization kicked in, she found herself standing in front of Karen’s open door.
What the f….
Feedback is very much appreciated!
Pairing: Helen/Karen
Summary: This is my first attempt at Helen/Karen, as I've noticed not a lot of fics contain this pairing.
Disclaimer: I have no ownership of Bad girls
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
If Helen’s throbbing heart beat didn’t betray her fear, she was sure her trembling hands, sweaty brow, and scarlet complexion would. She wanted to make up an excuse, provide some sort of explanation…
Silence. Her mouth had taken a temporary holiday, and she was left looking as guilty as Jim Fenner, locking up Shell Dockley’s cell after a “visit.”
Her feet refused to move and she was forced to stare blankly at Karen, with no chance of escape.
What the hell am I going to do?
“Well, are you going to answer my question, or stand there looking stupid?” Karen stood directly in front of Helen, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, and lips pressed firmly together. She was like a mother who caught her child’s hand in the cookie jar, but still demanded a confession.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.“
Not bothering to wait for a response, Helen brushed past her inquisitor, grabbed her purse, and hurried to her auto.
******
She didn’t sleep well that night. Tossing, turning, checking the alarm…
She got up several times to pace from her bedroom to the kitchen, all the while trying to figure out exactly what to say.
Maybe if I…no
If I act like nothing happened…
Could I say it was all in good fun?
Should I…no, she’ll never believe that.
As the night progressed, she became increasingly conflicted, and her stories more outrageous. In a few hours, she would be facing Karen. Would she force her to explain?
Shit, what if she tells Fenner…
Helen knelt in front of the toilet and finally relieved herself of the stress the past several hours had generated. If the previous evenings’ affairs were made known, Helen would never live it down.
The bloody bastard would have my arse-literally.
She finally gave up on sleeping altogether. She had no appetite, was uninterested in the morning news, and finished off her coffee only to avoid a caffeine headache.
Well, I’m going to make a smashing impression this morning, now aren’t I?
Helen cringed as her mirror revealed the physical evidence of her tumultuous night: dark circles had congregated underneath her blood-shot eyes, and her normally calm expression had been replaced with thin lines of worry.
This was shaping up to be a fantastic day.
******
“Rough night then, Helen?”
She was overjoyed to see Fenner’s snarl first thing after her arrival. He wasn’t exactly the welcoming wagon that she had hoped for, and was, in fact, one of the very people she hoped to avoid.
I hope he hasn’t talked to…
“One of the girls refuse to come home with you? I’m sure you’re use to rejection by now, but you really do need to pull yourself together. I wouldn’t want the Number One to find out how disheveled you look.”
“Oh, sod off, Jim. I don’t have time for this nonsense.”
She inwardly applauded herself for sounding a bit more confident than she actually felt. She was temporarily safe, after all. If Jim had talked to Karen, he would have used this opportunity to blackmail, jeer, embarrass…
After collecting her thoughts, Helen fled up stairs, out of Fenner’s sight.
Shit
The short conversation had done little to lighten Helen’s anxiety. Jim was never one to keep silent-especially when it came to Helen Stewart. She was positive the remaining staff would be informed of her appearance in mere minutes.
For a brief moment, she leaned against the worn, cold, block walls, to regain composure. The inmates hadn’t been let out for breakfast, and it was too early for the staff to do rounds.
Knowing the daily briefing would begin soon; she rested for a short stretch, and continued down the walkway.
She passed by the officer’s room, which was predictably occupied by Sylvia and Di. Both women never missed the chance to catch up on gossip while enjoying their morning tea.
Creatures of habit, those two. I’ll face them after the caffeine’s had a chance to kick in.
Sylvia glanced up just in time to catch Helen’s eyes
“My, my, Di. Someone doesn’t know how to handle their liquor. My Bobby always said-bloodshot eyes, smells like the pub-dark circles-all ways to tell someone’s a drunk.”
She shook her head and continued her speculations:
“Mark my words…Ms. Stewart’ll be a prisoner in Larkhall if she’s not careful. Those with the fancy degrees are never up to any good.”
Helen didn’t bother to hear Di’s retort. She was too busy thinking of Karen, Fenner, forbidden rooms, leather…
She was so engulfed in thought that she failed to pay attention where she was headed. Before the realization kicked in, she found herself standing in front of Karen’s open door.
What the f….
Feedback is very much appreciated!