Work Text:
Carpe Vinum
“Gidge!”
“Yeah?”
“Do you know where I left my laptop? I can’t find it…” Franky padded down the hallway in her socks, heading toward the kitchen.
Bridget was stretching up to the high cupboard to pull down a couple of wine glasses when she felt arms wrap snugly around her waist. A chin rested on her shoulder and she felt warm breath against her cheek.
“Franky,” Bridget warned as she continued to reach for glasses, “don’t you even think about it.”
“But Gidge,” Franky placed a soft kiss to her cheek, “when you look like that, all I do is think about it.”
Bridget laughed and secured the two glasses, landing her weight back evenly on her feet. She turned in Franky’s arms.
“I think your laptop is in the study, baby,” she kissed Franky’s lips swiftly and disentangled herself, much to Franky’s disappointment.
“You’re such a tease.”
“Mmm,” Bridget hummed noncommittedly, though she smiled as she placed the two wine glasses on the table next to the bottle of Shiraz.
Franky leant with her hip against the table.
“Why does she get the good wine?”
“We’ve been over this.”
“Yeah, yeah, she’s havin’ a rough time and needs our support… but the Shiraz, Gidge?”
“Look at it this way,” Bridget replied, her blue eyes twinkling, “Shiraz is the best wine for letting our hair down.”
“I’m surprised Vera knows how to let her hair down,” Franky teased back, “I always thought her bun was as tight and stuck-up as she is.”
Bridget rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a laugh.
“Well then maybe you should stay out here with us and see for yourself,” she winked.
“Nuh, you do your girlie stuff or whatever it is; I prefer watching a good movie in our bed.”
Franky knew in that moment that Bridget was then debating whether to call Vera and cancel their evening all together in favour of one of her choice evening plans, cuddled up against her girlfriend and watching a good flick.
Franky bit her lip, smiling, as Bridget moved round the table and trapped Franky against it, her arms closing in on either side of her, hands flat against the table surface. Franky’s breath hitched.
“Maybe,” Bridget crooned, her lips mere centimetres away from Franky’s, “I’ll feign a headache later and call it an early night.”
Franky closed her eyes, expecting Bridget to lean up and kiss her, but was surprised when she felt Bridget’s body disappear. She heard a throaty chuckle ringing out as heels clicked away down the hallway.
“Fuck, Gidge! Franky hollered after her, “you better!”
****
“… and so here we are,” Vera drummed her fingers against the table as she bit her lip in contemplation, “stuck with Kath Maxwell.”
Bridget exhaled, leaning back in her chair and playing with her necklace as she absorbed the latest of Wentworth’s gossip. Poor Vera.
“What does Dr Miller have to say about it?” she asked curiously.
“He’s giving her the benefit of the doubt if you can believe it,” Vera rolled her eyes, annoyed, “thinks she could very well not remember.”
“Well, fuck,” Bridget murmured as she shook her head incredulously. She pointed at Vera’s empty glass, “more?”
Vera startled from the dark murky world of Joan Ferguson and nodded.
“Y-yes. Please.”
“Well if she is playing you, you need to be prepared for more mind games,” Bridget advised as she topped up Vera’s glass, “she’ll be out for revenge.”
“She’s a bloody cockroach,” Vera took a sip of her Shiraz, “why can’t I have one model inmate? Just one, that’s all I ask.”
“How is Allie holding it down as Top Dog?” Bridget asked, nursing her own full glass.
“She’s… she’s not as strong as the others but she’s trying I guess.”
Vera put her glass down and rested her elbows on the table as she cradled her head in her hands.
“Times like this I really miss Rita.”
Bridget paused. She’d heard that name come from Vera’s lips a few times and was curious as to who this woman was, but she never pushed for further information. It seemed like Vera held her in very high regard though, and Bridget decided now, with a bottle of wine between them, was the perfect opportunity.
“Rita…?” she gently prompted.
“Rita Connors,” Vera’s head surfaced from her hands and she collapsed back in her chair, feeling the effects of the wine, warmth, and good company, “she was an inmate… well, actually… she was an undercover detective I guess. She’s gone now, she’s in a safehouse somewhere.”
Bridget nodded encouragingly, watching with amusement and curiosity as Vera’s face seemingly lit up as she spoke about this Rita.
“She was just so…” Vera struggled to find the words, “… different, I guess. Calm. Confident. Quiet. She made the prison a little more bearable for inmates and staff.”
“Sounds like she is a good woman,” Bridget commented slyly.
“She is,” Vera nodded approvingly and laughed as a memory surfaced, “I broke her out of the slots once, took her out of the prison to see her sister in the hospital, without authorisation. Will was so pissed.”
Bridget opened her mouth, but no words came out. Vera Bennett broke an inmate out? The same Vera Bennett who couldn’t see the extent to which Bridget would go to save Franky from a life sentence she didn’t deserve? Could it be…?
At that moment, they heard the bedroom door open and socked feet moving down the hallway.
“Don’t mind me,” Franky said with a smile, as she moved to the fridge, “just wanted another beer.”
She grabbed a bottle and moved back toward the hallway.
“You know, you mention Rita an awful lot,” Bridget continued as if uninterrupted, taking a sip of her drink as she watched Vera blush.
Vera opened her mouth to respond but cut herself off as suddenly Franky re-appeared behind them.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Franky slid into kitchen, grabbing the kitchen counter to stop her momentum and keep her upright, “what?”
Bridget bit back a laugh as she looked at her wine. What timing!
“Vers, Vers, Vers,” Franky grinned as she jabbed her finger excitedly at Vera, who was now covering her face in horror, “I knew you had it in ya! You little minx!”
“Franky,” Bridget warned, though her reprimand was half-hearted at best. She knew Franky was just teasing, and they were far enough along in their familiarity that Vera could hold her own for a bit.
“Nuh, Gidge,” Franky shook her head, now leaning on the kitchen top with her elbows, “staff member wants to bang an inmate? This is my wheelhouse too, remember?”
“Oh dear God,” Vera muttered, fighting the blush which now overtook her face, “I said I miss her as a model inmate, not that I love her or-“
“You love her!” Franky crowed, “admit it! Would you have broken anyone else out of prison? You didn’t break Booms out to see Maxi at the hospital, did ya? Nuh. This Rita chick is special. I knew you were a little bit gay. What does she look like? She look like me, huh?”
Vera remained silent, taking a larger gulp of wine.
“She look like Gidge? Bet she looks like Gidge.”
“Franky,” Bridget put her glass down, curious and amused, “how long have you been listening exactly?”
Franky shrugged. Caught.
“Fuck sake,” Vera muttered.
“You know,” Franky waved her hand, “as long as you keep your hands off my girl, I’m absolutely fine with it.”
“Okay, thanks for the wine, Bridget,” Vera stood up all of a sudden, attempting to end the evening as quickly as possible, “it’s been lovely as always.”
Bridget followed suit, accompanying Vera to the front door. She considered arranging a chat over coffee to discuss Rita Connors more. There was definitely a show of interest from Vera, whether she’d admit it or not.
“We could do double dates!” Franky shouted out, still grinning wolfishly from her place at the kitchen counter, “Gidge, what do ya think? Bowling and a movie? Maybe when the lights go down, you can use your fingers to-“
“- same time next week?” Bridget cut across, hearing Franky chuckle in the background, “maybe we could do it at your place. I’ll bring the wine.”
“Sounds good,” Vera walked down the porch steps and Bridget trailed after her, but not before shooting a warning look at Franky. Franky shrugged and held up her hands, silently protesting her innocence.
“Call me and we’ll set up a coffee morning,” Bridget gave one final wave to Vera and watched her wander down the front path, before moving back into the house and closing the front door.
She rested her back against it, arms crossed, as she watched Franky slowly make her way towards her, cautious but hopeful. Bridget sighed.
“Every time, baby.”
Franky’s eyes lit up in relief at the term of endearment, knowing that she wasn’t seriously in the doghouse, and she tugged at Bridget, bringing her into a warm hug. They rocked on the spot for a bit, before Franky pulled away slightly and kissed Bridget slowly on the lips. She skirted Bridget’s lips with her tongue and tasted Shiraz, before Bridget sighed and granted her access. They kissed for a few minutes before both pulled away for oxygen.
“You know…” Franky whispered with a smile, “this puts Vera in a totally different light. Hell, makes her quite sexy really.”
“Oh I’ll show you sexy,” Bridget pouted, though Franky saw the glitter of amusement in her eyes. Gidge was feeling playful and Franky realised that she likely would reap the benefits of her drinking and letting her hair down.
Bridget pushed gently at Franky, causing her to break their embrace and strutted past, her hips sashaying as she went. Her heels clicked against the floor and Franky’s eyes tracked from her shoes, up her elegant legs, over the arse, before-
“You coming or are you going home with Vera?” Bridget called out over her shoulder before disappearing through the bedroom door.
Franky grinned, and followed.