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Chapter Text

“What the fuck were you thinking?” 

Brenda looked up at the blonde officer, who was staring at her with a mixture of pity, shock and disgust. She shrugged and blinked against the harsh, sterile lighting of the strip search room. 

Officer Miles shot Officer Webb a dark look. “Give us a minute, will you?” 

Officer Webb cleared her throat. “Ah, is that a good idea, Linda?”

“I said, give us a minute. I’ll be fine,” Linda assured her. 

The dark-haired woman gave Brenda a solemn shake of her head and then slipped out of the strip search room, leaving Linda alone with her. Linda’s shoulders slumped, she crossed her arms and sighed. 

“Well, go on. It’s just us.”

Brenda opted to ignore Linda’s direct question, and instead slowly began to unbutton her denim shirt. 

“Oh, so now you’re not even talking to me?” 

“There’s nothing to say,” Brenda said as she handed Linda her shirt. “Trousers next, right?” 

Linda dropped Brenda’s shirt into the basket on the nearby table. “Yep.” Her bright blue eyes followed her former coworker, and at this point dubious friend, and her every move. “Shoes and socks next.” 

Brenda complied with more ease than she had thought possible. Perhaps working on the other side of this particular exchange for fifteen years had normalized this rather invasive process more than she’d previously considered. 

Linda cleared her throat as she took in the sight of her former coworker completely nude. She barked out the routine series of instructions with as little emotion as she could. She felt a certain kind of violation herself as Brenda exposed herself to her, bending over, coughing, and rendering herself utterly vulnerable. The whole interaction left Linda sick to her stomach. 

Brenda stood up, and stared at the blonde. If she was also feeling violated, she certainly didn’t let on. Her face was as impervious as stone. Her eyes were hard and cold in a way that felt unnatural to witness. 

At least she’d know how to handle herself in this place, Linda reasoned to herself. 

Linda pointed to the basket full of teal and mumbled, “that should be your size. Get dressed.” 

Wordlessly, Brenda slipped her undies and bra back on, then reached for the heavily starched white and unflattering shade of teal. There was a slight twitch in her face, but as soon as it appeared it disappeared and Brenda stepped into the shapeless track bottoms. 

“Brenda, talk to me,” Linda begged once Brenda was semi-dressed again.

“Told you. There’s not much to say.” 

Linda tilted her head. “What did she make you do?” 

“Didn’t make me do shit,” Brenda immediately defended. And Linda was perversely gladdened to see some of Brenda’s characteristic fight back in her. 

“She’s a fucking psychopath. She manipulates people. You’re a good person, Brenda. What are you doing getting mixed up with her?” 

Brenda tugged the white tank over her head and fluffed her riotous mane out. “You wouldn’t understand.” 

“Then help me understand. Fuck, Brenda. The women are going to -” she stopped herself. 

“Reckon they’ll want a piece of me,” Brenda finished for her. Her words were utterly devoid of emotion. “I can take whatever those bitches try to dish out.”

Glossy blue eyes met hers. “You shouldn’t have to subject yourself to… that for her.” 

Brenda threw her civies in the basket provided to her and said, “which unit am I in?”

Linda shook her head in disbelief. “You’re fucking serious, aren’t you?”

“As a heart attack. Which unit, Linda? And where is she being housed?” 

“Dunno. She’s not done being processed yet.”

Brenda’s jaw tightened. “Who’s processing her?” she growled. 

“Vera, probably.” 

“Fucking cunt,” Brenda swore. 

“I’d watch it if I were you. That’ll get you a charge on this side of the bars.” 

Brenda nodded her head towards the door. “They gonna put us in the same unit?” 

“Dunno. Like I said, she hasn’t been processed yet.” 

“I need you to do me a favour. I need -”

“Christ, Brenda! I thought that we were mates? You fucked off for months. Barely returned my calls or texts. I thought you’d gone off the rails but I didn’t think you’d go this fucking far! Now you need a favour?” 

“Please. I’m begging you,” Brenda implored, “I need to keep her close to me.”

“Why?” Linda snapped. 

“I just need her close. I need to keep an eye on her.”

“I hardly recognize you. Are you hearing yourself? You used to laugh at someone putting themselves at risk for some crazy bitch. Now look at you!”  

“Linda, please -”

“Out. Now.” Linda flung the door open and pointed to the corridor. 

Brenda set her jaw and murmured, “righto.” She stepped into the corridor and immediately felt the change in temperature. A gaggle of inmates looked up from where they’d been huddled together, and turned ravenous. 

“Ay, isn’t that a fucking screw?” 

Linda immediately reached for the baton at her hip. “Back off, Radic,” she warned. 

But the hulking blonde with shocking amounts of eyeliner wasn’t backing off. She took a step forward and snarled, “word is, your slippery swipe card got Bea face-to-face with the Freak. Planned that, did ya?” 

“Back. Off,” Linda repeated. Officer Webb was by her side in an instant. “Or we’ll escort you to the slot for an extended stay.” 

Radic slipped her hands in her trackies and glared menacingly at Brenda. “Can’t wait to catch up with you, Murphy. The boys and I are just dying to get to know you better.” 

Brenda took a daring step forward and snarled back, “I’d be very careful what you and your mates wish for. Come near me, and you’ll be fuckin’ sorry.”

“Oooh, Ferguson’s pet screw is a wild one!” Radic laughed. 

Officer Webb stepped between them. “Enough. Radic, back to your unit. Now.” 

Brenda glared daggers at Radic and her crew as they shuffled down the corridor towards their unit. Next to her, Linda muttered, “walk. And keep your fucking head down.” 

The two officers marched her down the corridor, down to H1. “Winter. Novak. You’ve got a new cellmate,” Webb announced as they stepped into the common area of the unit. 

Allie was on her feet in an instant, wide-eyed and horrified as Brenda stepped in. “What the fuck is she doing here?” she demanded. 

Marie closed the book she’d been reading and reached a hand out to calm her lover. “Now, sweetheart, is that any way to greet our guest?” 

“She’s a screw,” Allie said while staring at Brenda. 

“Not anymore, I’m not. Not for some time, in fact,” Brenda drawled.

Marie looked between the new inmate and her lover. She saw the way that the two officers were reaching for their batons, and she calculated all possible risks and rewards associated with this delicate situation. “Well, that clears that up then,” she said. She took a step forward and fluttered her eyelashes at the surly woman. 

“Novak, the Governor has placed Murphy here with the expectation that you’ll welcome her as you promised,” Officer Miles warned. 

“Of course. Governor Bennett has nothing to fear. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” Marie said pointedly as she looked over her shoulder at Allie. Allie ground her teeth together and nodded her head. “Excellent, now, why don’t we welcome our guest, hmm?” 

Allie glared at her lover before turning on her heel and stepping into her cell. She slammed the door closed in response. 

Marie turned her attention back to Brenda and tutted. “Please forgive, Allie. She’s really very sweet. It’s just that, well, her closest friend turned out to be a bit of a backstabber. She’s not one to trust so easily these days.” 

“Righto. We’ll leave you to it,” Officer Webb said. She nodded her head at Linda. 

The blonde regarded Brenda, and sighed, “stay out of trouble.” 

Stay out of trouble. 

Well, that was entirely too fucking late.

Chapter Text

Joan’s face twitched in displeasure as she stood under the harsh light of the strip search room. Officer Miles had just finished running through the rather invasive procedure, with Officer Webb by her side. Now dressed again, Joan had been instructed to remain where she was for further instruction. 

She noticed a piece of dirt on the floor and she ground her teeth together. Part of her wanted to nudge it away from her, the other part was loath to dirty the pristine white of her tennis shoes. She focused instead on the door opposite her and tried to make out the panicked-sounding chatter on the other side. 

“Vera! -” The door flew open and a pale-faced Jake Stewart stared in horror at Joan. He looked like he’d just seen a ghost. 

Good, Joan thought with much pleasure. Let your actions against me haunt you. 

“Prisoner Ferguson. How nice of you to rejoin us.” 

Joan’s eyes slid from Jake’s visage to a much plumper, softer one. And now it was her turn to be confronted with something rather shocking as an obviously pregnant Vera stepped into the strip search room and closed the door firmly behind her. 

Conflict swirled in Joan’s veins. Masses of unnamed thoughts and yes, emotions, plagued her mind as she followed the curve of Vera’s fertile womb. “I would offer you my congratulations, but…,” Joan said as Vera stepped in front of her. 

Anger flashed across Vera’s rounded face. 

Joan cleared her throat. “I trust that the child is in good health?” 

“As if you give a fuck,” Vera spat. 

Joan’s upper lip twitched. “Oh Vera, Vera, Vera,” Joan drawled. 

The irate Governor jabbed her thumb at the prisoner’s oversized jumper. “That Murphy’s? I’m assuming that she would have had to fashion you with a new wardrobe. Given that your house has been seized by the State,” she snarled. 

Again, Joan’s lip twitched in displeasure. 

“Strip,” Vera barked. 

“You’ll find that I have already been searched by your officers.” 

“I won’t repeat myself,” Vera warned. 

A dark, twisted grin spread across Joan’s pale face as she slowly removed the jumper which indeed belonged to Brenda. Her lithe back bore only the faint memory of bruises and scarring, but they marked her pale skin nonetheless. 

“You always did enjoy this. Didn’t you, Vera? The illusion of power that you have over others while they bare themselves to you,” Joan recounted as she slowly unzipped her trousers next. 

“Get on with it.” Vera’s hair frizzed and wiry waves framed her red face. Joan toed her shoes off and meticulously rolled her trousers down her long, lean legs. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve done this. Just like old times, hmm?” Joan taunted as she reached for the hook and clasp of her bra. With a defiant flick of her fingers, the garment fell loose and she dangled it in Vera’s face. “Still, perhaps we ought to revisit some of the old rules which govern our arrangement,” she said as she dropped the bra into the bin allocated to her. 

“You are in no position to negotiate anything. Next,” Vera barked as her eyes darted down to the simple black panties covering the older woman’s voluptuous hips. 

Joan locked eyes with her once-protegee and confidant as she hooked her thumbs into the waist of her panties. She dragged them down without breaking the deeply unnerving eye contact and tossed them as well into the bin. “I suppose you recall my preference for being placed within the general population? That stands.” 

“Socks,” Vera barked, deliberately ignoring Joan’s bait. 

Joan carefully unrolled the socks from her feet and grimaced as her bare flesh touched the floor. 

“It would be wise for you to house me with any newer inmates, obviously . And, given the history that both Ms. Murphy and I have with this establishment, it would be advisable to simply house us in the same unit.” 

Vera stared at Joan incredulously. “This isn’t your prison.” 

“Isn’t it?” Joan countered as she lifted her arms above her head and fluffed her hair out for Vera’s inspection. 

“It wasn’t so long ago that you were begging to be put in isolation.” 

“Times have changed.”

“Indeed. Now you have another pawn to sink your hooks into. What did you blackmail Murphy with? Hmm? Must have been something good. Something worthwhile.” 

Joan dropped her arms and glared at the smaller woman. “Blackmail is more your style, Vera,” she said as she lifted each breast. 

Vera dug her heels into the ground. 

Touched a nerve, Joan thought with glee. 

“The women will want to take a stab at you. You and Murphy.”

“Then it would be wise to house us in the same unit. That way any additional officer presence can be concentrated in one, higher-risk area. Really, Vera. Have I taught you nothing about efficiencies?” Joan tutted. 

“Mouth!” 

Joan opened her jaw as wide as she could and moved her tongue around. Then, she lifted her top and bottom lip and resisted the urge to sink her teeth into the bulging vein in Vera’s neck and rip it out. 

Patience. Detachment. Planning. 

“Has she already been processed?” 

“Didn’t take Murphy for your type, Joan. Don’t you prefer them younger and fertile?” Vera shot back. 

Patience. Patience. Detachment. Patience. 

“You are holding us both on related charges for the same alleged crimes. It is imperative that we be able to prepare our defenses accordingly with our legal representation,” Joan calmly responded. 

“Turn around.”

Joan spun on her feet and faced the back wall. She swallowed hard, and with it suppressed her pride as she bent over and parted herself for the reviled woman behind her. Were she less dignified, she’d enjoy flatulating directly in Vera’s face. 

Detach. Plan. 

“Get dressed.”

Joan reached for her undergarments and quickly slipped back into them. “My lawyer has already filed a petition to ensure mine and Ms. Murphy’s rights are respected. You are responsible for both our well-being as well as for ensuring that our dignity is upheld.”

“Dignity,” Vera snarled. “The women will tear you apart. Again.”

“And I’ll rise from the ashes, again,” Joan taunted. “You, however,” Joan tutted. “Oh Vera, how you will fall.”

Vera glared up at the taller woman. “You really think so?” 

“Have you forgotten one, little detail?” Joan held her hands up to her face and mimed a camera. Her dark eyes glinted. “Worth a thousand words.” 

Vera’s eyes turned cold as ice. “Ah, but that’s where you’re going to be very disappointed, Joan.” 

Joan’s upper lip twitched. 

“While you were being chased down by Mr. Channing, and the police were gathering all their resources to hunt you and Murphy down, I paid your home a little visit.” 

Joan’s face became as pale as snow. 

“You know, I liked it much better when you lived there. It was so much cleaner. That godson of yours really made quite the filthy mess,” Vera said menacingly. “But he’s no thief, so you should be proud of that. He left your electronics in their place. Your little box of trinkets too.” 

“Did he now?” 

“Mmhmm. Now, Jake may be the biggest regret of my life, but my time with him taught me a few important lessons. That photo that you think you have? It doesn’t exist anymore Joan. Not your backup. Not your backup’s backup,” she triumphantly shared. 

“What did you do, Vera?” Joan hissed. 

“I ensured that you will spend the rest of your loathsome, lonely life in here, Joan.” 

Chapter Text

Seconds passed by like lashes against her heart. Brenda could feel the blood thrumming in her veins. She could taste her own sweat. Feel the adrenaline as it vibrated off of her skin. After unpacking her measly belongings, she took to pacing. It took seven and a half steps to pace the entirety of her cell. Toe to heel. And back again. Teal drenched the miserable space all around her. She never gave this particular hue much thought. Not even when she was stationed here as a guard. 

It sickened her now. It drenched every surface, coiled around her body, entrapping her. 

All the while, the events of the last forty-eight hours ran through her mind in a blur of images, flashing lights, the chill of the metal cuffs as they’d encircled her wrists, and the white-hot heat of a baton cracking across her back. 

“No way, no FUCKING WAY! YOU FREAK! YOU FUCKING FREAK!” 

Brenda immediately halted her pacing. Flung the door to her cell open, and saw a red-faced Allie screeching and clawing at the chance to get to Joan. Joan. Brenda’s heart nearly stopped upon seeing that Amazonian figure for the first time since being separated from her by the police who’d arrested them. 

Marie was doing her honest best to hold Allie back. Linda and Vera were standing between the two women. 

“Winter!” Vera shouted over Allie’s cries. “You promised that this wouldn’t be an issue!” 

“You could've given me some warning, Ms. Bennett,” Marie shouted. “Allie, sweetheart. Look at me. I need you to calm down. She isn’t going to hurt you. I’ve spoken with Ms. Bennett, -”

“FUCK YOU!” Allie wouldn’t hear any of it. She broke free from Marie’s grasp and lunged at Joan, prompting Brenda to spring into action. 

Brenda crossed the space from her cell to the middle of the unit to stand defiantly in between the warring groups. “Enough,” she hissed as she puffed her much broader shoulders out to intimidate Allie into submission.

“What the fuck is this?” Allie spat. “You the Freak’s pet now?” 

“Allie, that’s enough!” Marie cautioned her. Her bright blue eyes darted from Brenda to Joan to Vera, sizing up the underlying tension between them all. 

Behind all this chaos, Joan stood as still and as stoic as a statue. Her beady eyes looked on with contempt at the shrieking young woman before her. The veins in her neck bulged temptingly. What little effort it would take to simply reach out and -

“Joan, c’mere,” Brenda grumbled. Warm, wide hands grasped her arms and she was suddenly being dragged into an empty cell. Brenda shut the door with a decisive clang while Linda dragged Allie off to the slot for her insubordination. Joan could faintly hear Vera being pled with by the blonde inmate, begging for the governor to show Allie some mercy. 

“What the fuck,” Brenda huffed. She let go of Joan’s arm and ran her hands through her wild curls. Her fingertips tingled from where they’d been holding onto Joan. 

“You were unharmed?” Joan asked as her dark eyes roamed Brenda’s face, her neck, her hands, searching for any evidence that the younger woman had been brutalized. 

“I’m fine.” 

Joan’s shoulders sagged and she reached a shy hand out to grasp Brenda’s wrist. “Good. I’m glad. The prisoners, did they threaten you?” she asked softly as she pressed her thumb into Brenda’s pulsepoint; she needed to verify for herself that Brenda was indeed alive and well. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Brenda tried to brush off. Her heart swelled in her chest but she willed herself to remain as still as possible as Joan touched her. It was rare that this happened, but every so often, Joan would offer her a fragile, tentative slice of tenderness and it wrung Brenda’s heart. 

She wasn’t stupid. She knew precisely why she had risked everything to rescue Joan. To house her. To aid her in her schemes. That four-letter truth weighed heavily on her heart these last few months but she refused to burden Joan with it. She’d promised herself that they'd get to that fateful conversation. In Rio, in Joan’s second life. Clear from danger, with nothing but their hearts to tend to. 

Of course, life in Rio was looking a lot less like an option for them. And that four-letter word along with all  its consequences only continued to weigh on Brenda. 

Joan retracted her hand and ran it through her greying locks. “It does. Threats are not to be taken lightly in here.” She looked down at the narrow cot in her cell and her nose twitched in displeasure. 

“Thinner than a stack of paper, that’s for fuckin’ sure,” Brenda deadpanned as Joan sat onto it. 

“It certainly is,” Joan said, wincing as the paper-thin mattress buckled even under her slight weight. “Sit.” She beckoned Brenda by patting the spot next to her. 

“How did you ever sleep on this?” Brenda grumbled as she sat next to Joan. Like this, their thighs were pressed up against each other. 

“Poorly.” 

Brenda stared at the cold, indifferent wall that made up the other side of Joan’s cell. “ Well, this sucks.” 

Joan’s nose twitched again. “I failed,” she declared.

“What are you on about?” 

“Our plan. It failed, I failed the both of us. This…this was not what you agreed to,” she said in reference to their current surroundings. 

Brenda rolled her eyes. It was so like Joan to be self-loathing in a time like this. “Didn’t know that Channing had been tracking us for weeks, did we? He took us both by surprise. Bloody lunatic.” 

“No matter.”

“Useless cokehead. If he hadn’t been driving in the opposite lane, high as a fuckin’ kite that night…,” Brenda trailed off with a mournful sigh. 

Had Channing’s erratic driving as he chased them down not alerted a nearby officer, had said officer and their backup not surrounded both vehicles…well. They’d achieved in securing the cash they needed. Brenda had purchased the airline tickets to Brazil. She dared to hope that they’d be in a cozy little cottage in Rio right now had he not chased them down that night. She imagined the beach in their backyard, the sun kissing their skin, the sand under their toes, and she hated that bald, coked-out lunatic all the more. 

Brenda nodded to the door. “We’ve got Vinegartits under our thumb. No way she’s gonna give us a hard time while we’ve got -”

“It’s gone.”

“What? What do you mean? What’s gone?” But Joan was silent. “Joan, what’s gone?” 

“The photo. She broke into my house. She…,” but Joan could not bring herself to finish her sentence. White-hot anger thrummed in her veins.

“That cunt,” Brenda swore. “You’re sure?” 

“I am certain. If there is one thing, and I do mean one thing that Vera does well, it’s cover her own arse.” 

“So…we can’t prove that she and those two twats tried to bury you?” 

“No, we cannot.” 

“What about the footage of Jackson driving the truck?” Brenda tried.

“I daresay that Vera will have ensured that is all erased as well. Derek’s little joy ride ensured that police threw every resource possible at catching him, and us. His property and mine weren’t even on their minds until after we were all arrested.”

“You reckon that she’s set Channing up for your burial?” 

“I wouldn’t put it past her.” 

“That cunt,” Brenda repeated. She looked around at their meager surroundings. “Well, that’s just made this all the more bloody depressing,” she assessed. 

“You have no idea,” Joan drawled. 

“We need an attorney.” 

“Already taken care of.” Joan regarded her companion. “You need to find something to focus on in here, something to keep you sharp and alert.” 

“I’ll focus on dropping some weight. Your cooking’s been way too good to me.” Brenda patted her slight belly. “The food here always looked and smelled like shit. So, there’s that. Maybe I’ll start working out?”

“What? You are perfect as you are,” Joan blurted out. Her dark eyes raked up and down Brenda’s form. 

Brenda chewed her bottom lip and tilted her head at Joan. “Ahem. I just meant, it’ll be a good goal. Getting fit.”

Joan looked mortified. “Yes, of course. Do keep your body strong and your reflexes sharp,” she said while blushing to the roots of her hair. 

Brenda nodded her head to the closed door. “And that? Our flatmates, are they gonna be a problem for us?” 

“For me,” Joan clarified. 

“We’re both former screws by their logic.” 

“Allie Novak and I have history that goes far beyond that.” 

“Blondie out there seems to have her under control for now. She seems to have some influence on this side of the bars. You know her?” 

Joan shook her head. “No, I do not.” 

“Might be a useful ally.” 

“What are you doing, Brenda?” 

“Planning. If you’re gonna make a bid for Top Dog, I’m gonna insist that I be your Second in Command.” 

Joan regarded the feisty brunette. There was a fire in her eyes that seemed to grow every day. Each time Brenda looked at her, she warmed Joan with the intensity in her green eyes. “You shouldn’t be so eager to be seen with me outside of the confines of our unit,” Joan warned. 

Brenda puffed her chest out defensively. “Why not?” 

“Because aligning yourself with me is a suicide mission.” Joan suddenly found that she couldn’t stand to look into the welcoming warmth of Brenda’s eyes. She stared ahead at the wall. “I will ensure that you have the best legal representation, of course. I will not allow your case to receive anything but the best possible defence. But it would be wise to separate yourself from me. Out there, at least,” Joan reasoned. 

“Nah. No way,” Brenda stubbornly insisted. 

“You should cozy up to her. The woman out there. Marie. You’re right, she does seem to have notable power and influence. And Vera seems to see that as well.” 

“Cozy up to?” Brenda asked, red-faced with indignation. 

“She’s a beautiful woman. And she noticed you.” 

“What do you -?”

“She noticed you. She finds you attractive. You should capitlize on that.” 

“You’re fucking joking,” Brenda growled. 

“Trust me, Brenda. There are worse ways to go to bed with powerful prisoners whom you do not like.” 

“I’m not whoring myself out to anyone.” 

“Do it before the choice is taken from you, Brenda,” Joan solemnly advised. She hated herself beyond measure for doing this. For pushing Brenda into the arms of another woman, a very attractive woman at that. But it was for the best, it was for Brenda’s safety, she reasoned to herself. 

Something snapped in Brenda. She sunk her hand into Joan’s hair, and brought their mouths together. She swallowed Joan’s surprised half-gasp half-moan as she laid claim to her mouth. As she poured months worth of silent longing into the lush movements of her lips and tongue. As her fingers massaged Joan’s scalp. As her other hand came up to tenderly cup Joan’s striking jawline. Time stood still as Joan kissed her back, as gentle little whimpers escaped from her mouth in between the wet smacking of their lips. 

But as it always does, reality eventually surfaced. 

Joan pushed Brenda away. Hands on the brunette’s shoulders, she whispered, “w-what are you doing?” 

“What I shoulda done the night I brought you home,” Brenda boldly stated. “You’re the only one I’m putting out for. So, you gonna protect me in here or what?” 

I’ll protect you. 

Joan recalled the last time that she said those words to a woman. The weight of them had been nothing in comparison to the weight of Jianna’s dead body in her arms. 

“I can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

Flustered, Joan moved further away from Brenda on the narrow cot. “This won’t end well.”

“Why -?”

“I cannot be what you want me to be, Brenda. I cannot give you want it is you think you want.” 

Brenda’s eyes turned glossy with hurt. “Then let me protect you,” she insisted. 

“I do not need your protection.” 

Brenda resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Rubbish.” She frowned at Joan and her full lips pouted in frustration. “When they arrested us…I thought… Christ, I thought I’d never see you again,” she implored. 

“This is the logical place for us to be brought to,” Joan stated in that enragingly calm, aloof tone of hers. 

“We were on our way to Rio. We were gonna make a new life for ourselves.”

Joan cleared her throat and responded, “and?” 

“And do you think I’d agree to move halfway across the world for just any random woman?” Brenda asked. 

Joan ran a hand through her hair again. Her brow twitched with discomfort. “I think…that you should return to your cell. And allow me time to think.”

“What’s there to think about?” Brenda insisted. 

Joan’s face turned grim. “Survival,” she stated. 

“I can help you -”

“I do not require your assistance,” Joan snapped. 

Brenda could practically see the doors around Joan’s heart closing up, invisible little hands chaining them shut. The warmth left Joan’s eyes, shielded by indifference. She sighed, this was so typical of Joan. The second that they got near to this thing between them, Joan would retreat with her tail between her legs. 

“Fine,” Brenda said, clearly defeated. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?” 

“Perhaps,” Joan said. 

“Perhaps?” 

“Yes. Fine. Tomorrow.” 

Joan could hardly bring herself to look at the downward curve of Brenda’s full pout. Especially not now, when she knew firsthand how that pliant flesh felt against her own. She looked away as Brenda exited her cell. And tried to ignore the lingering scent of the younger woman around her. She rubbed her palms against her thighs, then furiously scrubbed her lips, as though trying to erase Brenda’s touch from her skin. 

Now was not the time for distractions. Weakness. Now was the time for planning. Control. And detachment. 

Their very survival depended on it. 

Chapter Text

Joan’s beady eyes swept across the bustling exercise yard. Clouds permeated the sky, but they were not the cause of the chill that ran up and down Joan’s spine. It was the loathsome, incredulous stares from the women in the yard that caused the back of her neck to prickle. 

“Fuckin’ FREAK!” 

“Bloody cockroach.”

“Better sleep with one eye open, Ferguson!”

The inmates hissed all around her, like a pit of snakes as she stepped forward into the middle of the yard. Head held high, teal gleaming in the dim morning light, she approached the Top Dog and her crew. 

“Boomer, no,” Kaz warned as Joan took another step forward. The tall, blubbering inmate cracked her knuckles, muttered under her breath, tugged on her stained t-shirt, and sat back down on the bench. “She’s not worth it,” Kaz insisted.  

“Says you,” Boomer grumbled. She turned her back to Joan, lest she be tempted to disobey her Top Dog and mate. 

Kaz drew herself up to her fullest height, which barely met Joan at her chin, and stared up at the walking ghost defiantly. “Joan,” she said. 

“Kaz.” Joan clasped her hands in front of her and stood a respectful few feet away from Kaz. 

The yard around them became so silent that one could hear the wind wisping through the blades of grass at their feet. Even the news of inmates, who had not experienced Ferguson either as a Governor or prisoner were deeply invested in the confrontation occurring in the middle of the yard. At the gates, Officer Miles reached for her radio and signaled to Officer Webb. Both women stood to attention, ready to jump in and radio for backup at the slightest indication of this going sideways. 

“So, she has risen,” Kaz said. Her lips drew into a thin line, her bright blue eyes shone with malice. All around her were women of the Red Right Hand and other inmates who supported her rule, tense and menacing and ready to pounce on Joan the moment that Kaz gave them permission to do so. 

“So it seems,” Joan remarked as she took in the army that greeted her. 

“Heard you had some help. Didn’t know that your influence extended to gravediggers. But I can’t say that I’m surprised, given the company that you keep.”

Joan’s upper lip twitched ever so slightly. “You seem to forget that you were once the company whom I kept.”

“We all make mistakes,” Kaz spat. 

“Indeed we do.” Joan smirked down at the blonde. “I hear that congratulations are in order. You have been elected Top Dog, once again.” 

Kaz lifted the hem of her shirt and discreetly flashed a shiv tucked into her trackies. “That’s right.” 

Joan held her hands out in surrender. “I do not wish to challenge it.” 

Kaz glared at Joan for a moment long before slowly dropping her shirt. “I don’t believe you,” she ground out. 

“I don’t blame you. But I am not here to debate our ideological differences, nor our history. I am here to offer you a truce.” 

“A truce? Christ, you must have lost enough oxygen to damage your brain while you were being buried, Joan. What makes you think I would ever call a truce with you?” 

Joan folded her hands behind her back and leaned forward. “Because I know how much you still care for young Allie Novak. And on the subject of dubious company, I hear that she is warming the bed of an old enemy of yours these days,” Joan taunted. 

“How the fuck -”

“There is very little that goes on in these walls which I do not know about, or do not eventually find out. You would do well to remember that, Kaz.” 

Kaz’s face burned a bright red. She looked back to her crew and hissed, “get lost. Tell the women that exercise time is over.”

Boomer sat back up again and shot Kaz a worried look. “But, Kaz, it’s only just -”

“I said clear this fucking yard, now, Boomer!” Kaz shouted at her. 

Boomer looked between Ferguson and Kaz and nodded her head. “Right, yeah.” She gestured to the women staring at the former and current Top Dogs and said, “you heard, Kaz. Get lost! Don’t make me drag you outta here.” One by one, the women slowly started to make their way inside, leaving only Kaz, Joan, and the two officers standing in the yard. 

Joan looked around her and tutted, “now that’s much better, don’t you think? Nice private place for us to have a little chat.” 

Through her clenched jaw, Kaz muttered, “what the fuck do you want from me, you fucking psycho?” 

“It is not what I want, but what you want,” Joan said in that frustratingly cryptic way of hers. “You have an enemy in Marie. I can make that worse for you. So, so much worse. I can make those hooks that she has in Allie so much sharper. I can ensure that Allie suffers in ways that you cannot imagine. Or, I can remain an objective third party and not get involved in this brewing war between you.” 

Kaz balled her fists up at her side. “And what do you get out of this little arrangement, Joan?” 

“You will guarantee my safety. And the safety of Brenda Murphy.” Joan nodded to the basketball court and drawled, “I am not interested in either one of us being dragged into another one of your little kangaroo courts.” 

“Are you fucking kidding? The women want to tear you apart. And Murphy. They heard that she rescued you, that she is the reason why you’re still breathing.”

“And I trust that you will inform the women that they are to keep their hands to themselves where we are both concerned.” 

“You can’t be fucking serious -”

“If you are unable to ensure our safety. I will simply have to rely on other parties who can. As I understand, Marie Winter already brokered a deal with the Governor to house the pair of us in her unit with Allie. It seems that Marie has the sympathetic ear and leverage of the Governor. Shall I ask her instead?” 

“They’ve put you in Allie’s unit?” Kaz hissed. 

Joan frowned. “Oh, were you uninformed about that? My goodness, being the Top Dog just doesn’t have the power it used to, does it?” she taunted. 

Kaz glared at Joan. “I will talk to the women. But I can’t guarantee - “

“You will guarantee our safety, or I cannot guarantee my neutrality when it comes to you and Marie.” 

“Fuck you.” 

Joan shrugged at Kaz’s little outburst. “Do we have a deal, or not?” 

“I’m surprised at you, Joan. Wanting to keep Murphy alive as well. But I suppose that you still have a use for her.” Kaz noticed something behind Joan’s shoulder and she let out a dark chuckle. “Speak of the devil.”

Joan looked over her shoulder to see a confused looking Brenda enter the exercise yard. Joan bit the inside of her cheek, she’d not seen the brunette since she’d purposefully avoided direct eye contact with her during the morning count. 

“Joan?” Brenda was by Joan’s side immediately. She carefully assessed both women, their body language, taking note of the obvious tension between them. “All good here?” she asked them both. 

“Just fuckin’ peachy. What are you doing here?” Kaz hissed at her. 

Brenda jabbed her thumb towards the doors. “I asked Birdsworth where Joan was. She told me to come here.”

“For fuck…Liz,” Kaz sighed. 

“Birdsworth giving you trouble, Kaz? That is unlike her.”

Kaz stepped right into Joan’s personal space and muttered. “You stay clear of Liz and Allie. Or I will rip your throat out myself. Are we clear, Joan?” 

Joan smirked down at the fuming woman and said, “perfectly.” 

Kaz glared at Brenda and said, “I dunno what she has over you. But if you want my advice? Run as far away from this fucking cancer as you can.” 

Brenda crossed her arms over her chest and said, “thanks, but I’m not looking for any advice.” 

“Your funeral,” Kaz said. 

“Our arrangement, Kaz. Is it settled?” Joan pressed. 

“Yeah, it’s settled alright,” she grumbled. Kaz looked at the pair of them and shook her head before storming out of the exercise yard. 

“What are you doing here?” Joan asked, clearly agitated. 

Brenda frowned at the taller woman. “Could ask you the same question. You ran off as soon as the count was done. You said we’d talk this morning,” Brenda reminded her.

“Oh, well. I had other pressing items to attend to,” Joan brushed off. 

Brenda ignored Joan’s sabotaging little jab. “So, what was this all about, then?” 

“It doesn’t matter.” Joan tipped her head up and sighed as the early morning sun graced her pale features. While living in exile at Brenda’s, she’d had to avoid being outdoors during daylight. It had been months since she’d felt the sun on her skin. 

“Reckon it does if you blew me off for it.” 

“It doesn’t concern you,” Joan clarified. 

“Righto.” Brenda ground her jaw. She could throttle Joan when she was in one of these insolent moods. Instead, she nudged Joan’s arm. “C’mon. No use in staying out here. Breakfast is on and neither one of us have eaten anything in two days now.” 

“I’m not hungry,” Joan stubbornly insisted. 

Brenda nodded her head towards the guards at the gates of the yard. “Well, like it or not, those two are gonna round us up inside any minute now. Let’s beat ‘em to it.” She grabbed Joan’s elbow and steered the taller woman back inside. 

Agitated, Joan jerked her arm away from the brunette. “Don’t touch me!” she snapped. 

Hurt shone from Brenda’s intensely green eyes. “Relax. Message received. I won’t go near you like that again,” she hissed.  

Joan’s cheeks pinked ever so slightly. “I was not referring to…you should not be seen with me. I told you, Brenda. You must keep your distance.” 

“And I told you that I will not be bossed around like that. You can either be in denial or deal with the reality of this,” she said as she gestured between them. “Well?” she asked, waiting for Joan to respond. When she didn’t, Brenda rolled her eyes. “Fine. The hard way it is. Get over yourself and get used to having me around. Because I’m not fuckin’ going anywhere.” 

“You are exceedingly annoying when you assert yourself like that,” Joan drawled. 

“And you’re a bloody brat when you don’t get your way. Reckon that makes us even.” Hands on her hips, Brenda ranted on, “and Christ, Joan! What were you thinking? Coming out here alone to confront Kaz and her crew?” 

“I was thinking about our survival.”

Brenda held her hand out. “Going forward, we make choices like that, together.” 

Joan scoffed at Brenda and smacked her hand away. “You are being childish.” 

“I’m being practical. Either loop me in or stay the fuck outta my business entirely. You don’t get to make deals on my behalf while keeping me at a distance from you. It’s all or nothing, so pick your poison,” Brenda said defiantly. 

Joan’s lip twitched. Brenda could be so frustratingly stubborn. Sometimes she wanted to wrap her hands around the younger woman’s neck and throttle her into submission. She quickly considered the options, and determined that she would not accept any scenario which left Brenda unprotected. “Fine,” she said. 

Brenda held her hand out again. Joan rolled her eyes, but she took it. And tried to ignore how pleasant it felt to have Brenda’s warm, soft palm surrounding her own hand.

Chapter Text

The walk through the corridor was tense. Women stopped and glared at the pair of former officers and Joan had to clench her jaw lest she turn to her companion and issue a well-deserved I told you so. 

“Just keep walking,” Brenda said to Joan. She could practically read the older woman’s mind. “They’re just wondering what you and Kaz talked about. Nosey cows,” she scowled as the women continued to gawk at them. 

“What’s this?” Shrill and paranoid, Vera’s voice was unmistakable. The visibly pregnant Governor marched over to Murphy and Ferguson and glared up at the two of them. Even in her heels, both women towered over her. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Walking,” Brenda said. Her annoyance was clearly discernible in her tone of voice. 

“Walking where?” 

“To breakfast.” 

“Why aren’t you at your work unit?” Vera demanded.

Brenda barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes. “Because it’s breakfast and we haven’t been assigned anywhere yet,” she drawled. Next to her, Joan mashed her lips together to prevent the amusement from spreading across her face. It did give her such pleasure to watch Vera combust in exasperation so very easily. 

The smaller woman could not contain her snarl. She jabbed her knobby thumb behind her and hissed, “medical. Now.” 

The amusement immediately melted from Joan. “Why?” she asked as she drew herself up to her fullest height. 

“Because I said so.”

“Neither of us have had breakfast yet.” 

Vera took a bold step forward until she was toe to toe with Joan. “I don’t care. I don’t answer to you, Prisoner Ferguson. You answer to me. And if I wish to send any prisoner anywhere at anytime, I can and I will. Prisoner Murphy, you’re due for a mandatory drug test.” 

Brenda frowned. “No I’m not,” she argued. 

“A random mandatory drug test. Now, Murphy. Don’t make me have one of our senior officers drag you there,” she barked. In front of her, Joan’s pale face grew stern and rather displeased. Her cool brown eyes locked onto Brenda protectively. 

“Well, if you’re so keen on wasting my piss,” Brenda grumbled. She nodded to Joan and glared at Vera one last time before walking towards the medical unit. Joan’s umbre-coloured eyes did not leave Brenda’s retreating form until the younger woman followed the bend in the corridor and disappeared from Joan’s sight. 

“I warned you, Joan.” 

Joan fixed her eyes on the woman before her. Her nose twitched. Her blood boiled. Were Vera not sustaining growing, precious, innocent life within her, her thoughts would no doubt be taking a disturbingly dark turn right now. 

“About walking?” she taunted. 

“You may have sunk your hooks into Murphy, and she may be stupid enough to follow your lead, but do not for a second think that you can assume power in here.” 

Joan leaned down to whisper, “now, now, Vera. Shouldn’t you be minding your blood pressure? Afterall, I would hate for you to cause undue stress to your growing child. The bond between mother and child is so very precious, they soak up everything. I would be very concerned, if I were you, about what you are passing onto -”

The baton unfurled from Vera’s side with such speed that not even Joan and her cat-like reflexes caught it in time. The smaller woman held the length of the baton out and snarled up at the prisoner. “Step back, Ferguson. Or I will personally escort you to the slot.” 

Joan arched her brow and took an exaggerated two steps away from the seething Governor. Her hands remained demurely clasped in front of her, her posture was relaxed, and her face the picture perfection of neutrality. Her calculated demeanour only further highlighted the erratic behaviour of the Governor. 

“Vera?” Officer Stewart walked past the display and looked worriedly between the two women. “Everything alright?” 

Annoyed by the presence of her child’s father, Vera retracted her baton. “Fine,” she curtly responded to Jake. “Well? To work unit you all go!” she said to the crowd of women who were curiously gathered around the scene. And before Jake could swoop in and protectively usher her away, she stomped away with him trailing awkwardly behind her. 

From the crowd of dispersing women, Marie Winter approached Joan. “That’s two scenes you’ve created, all before midday,” she observed. 

“Oh?” Joan said. She was still unsure about Marie and her motivations. But one thing was certain, she could discern a certain ruthlessness in the blonde. Like recognizes like, she thought to herself. This was a woman to keep close. 

“Why don’t you join me for breakfast, hmm?” 

Joan peered around them, looking for signs of Allie. “Won’t your lover take issue with that? Surely she will get wind of you speaking to me when she is released from the slot.” 

“Don’t you worry yourself about Allie. She just needs a night or two to calm herself.”

“I find that I’m not terribly hungry,” Joan lied. In truth, she did not trust any of the food if it was prepared by the inmates. 

Marie nodded to the dining room. “You can’t avoid that forever,” she gently chided. 

“I imagine that I will be placed there very shortly. When I can prepare my own meals, I will eat.” 

“Bit of a Chef, are you?” Marie playfully asked. 

“In my own way.” 

“Hmmm, in that case, might I request something off the menu from time to time?” 

Ah, there it is. “Is that the payment you wish to receive then, Marie?”

“Payment?” Marie asked, pretending to be aghast. 

“The deal that you made with Vera. I’m aware that such an undertaking is not without its challenges.” 

“Well, that’s how things tend to work in here, isn’t it? We all do one another favours. But I’m sure you know all about that, don’t you Joan?” she sweetly asked. 

“Indeed I do.” 

Marie’s smile became less sweet, more sinister. “You know, I’m quite happy to keep an eye out for you and Brenda. As far as I am concerned, we have no history. And I’m not interested in taking on the burden of the women’s history with you.”

“But?” Joan filled in. 

“But I am curious what your little chat with Karen was all about this morning. Heard you cleared the entire yard. That’s impressive.” 

Behind the softly seductive blue of Marie’s eyes was a clear darkness. Joan took a calculated step forward. “Merely setting the record straight with her. We have quite an extensive history, one that I do not wish to revisit. I urged her not to revisit it again either.”

“Or else?” Marie prompted. 

“Or else she would be very, very sorry,” Joan vaguely shared. 

“I have to ask, Joan, and I hope that you understand why, but you’re not thinking of leveraging my Allie, are you? Because that would be a very foolish decision.” 

“Well that all depends, Marie. You’re not thinking of leveraging Brenda, are you? Because I promise that would be an equally foolish decision.” 

The two women, separated by a foot and a half of height, stared intently at one another. After a few moments of silence, Marie offered Joan a saccharine smile. “No, sweetheart, of course not.” 

“Then you have nothing to worry about.” Joan nodded to the bustling entrance of the dining room. “Might want to get in there before Boomer Jenkins has had a chance to make her tray. I’m sure that I’ll see you later, Marie.” 

“Yes, I daresay that you will, Joan,” Marie said with a triumphant grin.