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Chapter Text

Chapter One: Bea Smith

Bea was the first to notice what was happening between Franky and Bridget Westfall. As the Top Dog, it was her job to know what was going on, and she had certainly clocked them from a mile away… okay, with a little help from Kim Chang she would begrudgingly admit later to Franky.

The clarifying moment for her, of course, had come from the group session in the Education Centre. 

Bea stood, leaning against the computer desks with her arms crossed. She didn’t need to be there and in fact really had very little desire to be present at all, but she was keeping an eye on the Sophie and Liz situation. The last thing she needed in life was for Liz to fall off the wagon again and cause more chaos. And Sophie? She was a whole other kettle of fish. No, what Bea needed was to show her authority and so she did it in little ways… unfortunately for her, like attending a group support session for the women and run by Miss Westfall.

Bea had to admit that Miss Westfall was good at what she did. The psychologist had tried to draw her in as Maxine’s partner in the exercise, but Bea had firmly refused; she was there to observe after all. However, the longer the session went on, the more her curiosity was piqued not by Sophie and Liz, but by the quick glances back and forth between Miss Westfall and Franky. Bea didn’t know what to make of those looks at first - it was just as likely the glances were hostile in her mind, with Miss Westfall checking in on Franky and Franky staring back warily. After all, Franky had made it known that she didn’t need a shrink interfering in her business at that time. 

However, when Miss Westfall recommended Sophie give it a go with Liz, having also clocked the family conflict, Bea raised her eyebrows at the look Bridget gave when Sophie insisted on going with Franky. It was scrutinizing… verging on disappointment. Franky’s quick rebuttal, telling Sophie to go with her mum, was an interesting twist as well. Bea had seen firsthand the way that Sophie idolized Franky and had seen the latter use it to her advantage all this time, getting back at Liz no doubt. Whilst she had not made any move to stop it so far, Bea was keeping an eye on it. 

As she continued to focus on her fellow inmates, Bea completely missed Miss Westfall’s face when Kim jumped up to volunteer. If she had caught Miss Westfall’s cautious eyes, she’d have seen the trouble brewing before it started.

“She’s screwing some skinny-arse scrag in fancy fuckin’ clothing!”

Now that was different. 

Kim’s voice jarred Bea from her position and she whipped her head around, seeing Boomer pointing accusing fingers at Miss Westfall from behind Kim. The women jeered at the revelation; they had just been delivered a fresh source of gossip and sexual innuendo. 

Franky couldn’t catch a break apparently, Bea mused as she watched it all go down. When she looked at Miss Westfall for intervention, what she saw gave her pause. Miss Westfall wasn’t making any attempt to quell the women or masking any form of embarrassment or shock at Kim’s accusation. No, she wasn’t even looking at the women openly mocking her. She seemed to only have eyes for Franky. What intrigued Bea more, however, was that it wasn’t a look of disapproval or annoyance or even incredulity at what had just transpired. It was instead a look of concern. It was as if Miss Westfall was silently asking Franky: are you alright? 

Bea took that opportunity to sneak a glance at Franky, who she found was in turn staring at Miss Westfall both apologetic and defeated. Very unlike the Franky she knew. They were in their own bubble, oblivious to the Top Dog’s assessing gaze, and that was when Bea really started to ponder what was happening there. She wasn’t one to take Kim Chang at her word, but she had to admit that she had noticed a stark difference in Franky lately. The former Top Dog had seemingly disappeared from the centre of H Block drama, secluding herself a lot more in her cell and the library in an attempt to fly under the radar. Bea had assumed it was because she was coming up for parole soon and wanted to keep her head down, especially without any of her old crew to back her. Franky was alone and being alone in prison was the most vulnerable state one could be in. However, with this new development delivered so bluntly by Kim, Bea started to wonder if her change in attitude came from somewhere else… Someone else. The way that she caught Miss Westfall and Franky looking at each other just then seemed to confirm that Kim, if not telling the whole truth, was hitting at least a small part of the nail on the head.

So were Franky and Miss Westfall screwing? Was that it?

Bea didn’t think so. Though she knew little about Bridget Westfall, Bea didn’t think she would break her professional ethical code to such a degree. The psychologist seemed to care about the women, truly care, and Bea didn’t think that she would risk anything that would interfere with her ability to help them. Bea knew Franky better, and she knew that if Franky was fucking the prison psych, she’d look a damn sight more smug and uncaring as she walked around the prison. 

Unless…

Oh. 

Bea watched as Franky’s eyes dropped to the floor in front of her and Bridget’s gaze slowly tore away and returned to the still-jeering women. 

Were feelings involved?

Bea took a deep breath, unsure how to handle that possible truth. For now though, she needed to do her part and control the women.

“Oi!” she bellowed suddenly, causing the women to quiet down, “shut the fuck up, all of you!”

She looked over at Bridget, who gave her a small smile in return.

“Carry on, Miss Westfall.”

“Thank you, Bea.”

As Miss Westfall once again took control of the room, Bea took the chance to look over at Franky. Franky stared back at her, her gaze curious- as if she was silently asking why Bea intervened. 

Bea shrugged in answer as she didn’t quite know herself. Was it to save Franky and Miss Westfall from the continued scrutiny and humiliation? Or was she simply stamping her authority as Top Dog?

***

After the session, Bea hung around the door of the Education Centre. She made sure she kept just out of sight as she leaned against the outside wall, but also kept close enough so she could hear everything. Franky had trailed behind everyone else, as predicted, setting a glacial pace no doubt in order to speak to Miss Westfall privately. Bea had done her part and hurried Sophie along, though the young girl seemed reluctant to leave Franky’s side. 

Bea rested the back of her head against the wall and just listened.

“I’m sorry,” she heard Franky say quietly, “about Kim… and all that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Miss Westfall’s reassuring voice echoed through the room in response, “people see only what they want to see. In Kim’s case-”

“She wants a reason to hate me so sees this. Us.”

“So it seems.”

Bea waited as silence reigned. It remained quiet and time dragged on, but just as she was about to give up and walk away, Franky’s voice came through clear, though they tried to keep their conversation hushed. They were of course unsuspecting of the Top Dog on the other side, eagerly listening in.

“Kim doesn’t spout off ‘bout me and Miss Bennett though. Or me and Miss Miles.”

“Franky…” Bea heard Miss Westfall’s voice lower, dripping with warning and something else.

“Food for thought though, hey.”

At that, Franky walked out with her hands in her pockets and raking her tongue along her teeth, looking both troubled and wistful in equal measure. She spotted Bea the moment she exited and raised her eyebrows in surprise. The look on her face screamed ‘busted’ , though there seemed to be no guilt.

“You fuckin’ stalking me now, Red?”

Not faltering for a moment, Franky continued along the corridor and Bea quickly fell into step with her.

“Just checking in, Franky, you know that,” Bea lowered her voice, cognizant of the inmates wandering down the corridor toward them, “just wanted to make sure that trouble with Kim Chang doesn’t get outta hand, y’know?”

“Yeah well, it won’t,” Franky said under her breath, “satisfied?”

“Not in the slightest,” Bea continued alongside her, “so you wanna tell me what’s happening between you and Miss Westfall?”

Franky stopped in her tracks at that and Bea noticed her shoulders hunching more than usual. Franky was shrinking in on herself at the question, pulling every defense she had to the front. Bea knew that look too well. 

“Nuh, nothing is happening,” Franky stated easily; lying seemed to be second nature to her, “so stop eatin’ that shit up for breakfast and maybe concentrate on your own problems for a change.”

“Bullshit, Franky,” Bea hissed. She tugged at Franky’s hoodie and firmly pushed the inmate into the wall next to her. She kept Franky pinned there by the collar, “just know that you’re walking a very fine line and The Freak won’t hesitate to use that the moment she gets wind… so you better sort Kim Chang out fucking fast. You get me?”

Franky held her hands up in a small gesture of surrender. 

“Chill the fuck out, Red!” she said as she proceeded to bat Bea’s hands away and readjust her hoodie, “there is nothing happening with Miss Westfall and the moment Kim opens her fuckin’ mouth, I’ll be there. So stop going postal, alright?”

Bea breathed out through her nose, relieved. 

“You better not be lying,” she backed away from Franky and started off in the opposite direction, toward H Block. She turned her head and shouted back over her shoulder, “or you’ll be royally fucked!"

As Bea walked away, every inch of her screaming Top Dog as she went, she couldn’t help but feel that Franky was lying… not only to her, but to herself.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two: Maxine Conway

Maxine noticing what was happening between Franky and Miss Westfall was nothing new. She was the quiet type after all, someone who sat at the bench and just observed everyone around her. It often paid off, with Maxine catching on to a lot of things that would otherwise have been missed by the very distracted Top Dog of late, who was engaging in her own battle with Governor Ferguson. 

Just that morning, for instance, Maxine had clocked two minor drug deals and a possible breakdown by Mr Fletcher, who looked like he was going to be sick as he walked quickly along the fenced walkway. Miss Miles was also on the take in one corner of the yard, no doubt in exchange for extra phone privileges or premium information. It was a busy day, but Maxine was catching it all as she sat idly by. 

Being that ever-observant right-hand woman, she had also caught on to the increased number of sessions that Franky was having with Miss Westfall. At first, Franky had remarked about regular sessions being part of an agreement with Miss Westfall to get her back on the path to parole, which was not at all surprising to Maxine. Franky did have anger management problems and so Maxine was happy that the sessions might give her a better chance of not fucking up. However, like most things in Wentworth, it soon became clear that it wasn’t just that.

Bea had asked Maxine, following what had become known as the Kim Incident in the Education Centre, what she knew of Franky and Miss Westfall. Maxine supposed it was information to be used as an insurance policy, but the genuine curiosity in Bea’s question, coupled with her giving no reason other than that she wanted to know, got Maxine thinking that something was indeed going on. Then, when Franky had come storming back to H Block after a failed attempt at seeing the psychologist and when Kim had appeared with a bright red mark right across her cheek congruent with a well-timed slap, Maxine’s radar on all things Franky Doyle had lit up. She finally started to suspect that maybe Franky liked Miss Westfall more than as a psychologist she had to suffer through.

She didn’t know much about Miss Westfall, having only seen her a few times since she had started, but she seemed nice enough and Maxine was sure that she was trying her hardest to stop the rumours that were spreading quickly to protect both her job and her clients though, in the process, hurting what looked to be a smitten Franky.  

“Gidget?”

Maxine broke from her reverie as Franky’s voice echoed across the small yard. Franky was up and walking before Maxine even knew what was going on, rolling papers in hand as she practically ran towards the chainlink fence that separated her from the walkway. Maxine wondered what on earth Franky was talking about, until she saw Miss Westfall walking along that very walkway, cardboard box in hand and Vera in tow. Oh, Bridget was… Gidget. Maxine hid a smile at the nickname, her suspicions more than confirmed by that alone. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Franky asked as she neared the fence. Miss Westfall looked over at her, but as she moved to answer Vera called out from behind:

“Back away from the fence, Doyle.”

Maxine crossed her arms as she watched what was going down with curiosity. Undeterred, Franky walked alongside Miss Westfall, with only the chainlink separating them. It was a brutal parallel that didn’t go unnoticed by any of them, Maxine was sure.

“Are they getting rid of you?” Franky threw an accusatory glance over at Vera while Miss Westfall kept walking, trying not to draw attention to herself or her situation in front of all of the inmates.

“Fuck!” Franky exclaimed further, “what about my parole? I’m never gonna get out of here.”

At that, Maxine saw Miss Westfall come to a standstill despite Vera’s protestations. She looked Franky in the eyes directly, her expression one of consternation warring with reassurance, and Maxine could hear her say:

“You’ll be alright.”

They both then huddled closer to the fence and Maxine couldn’t quite grasp the rest of their conversation, though she tried. She could, however, see the way that Miss Westfall was leaning in, her eyes full of tenderness as she scanned Franky’s face and spoke in hushed tones. Maxine also saw the way Franky’s hand came up and grabbed at the fence. If Miss Westfall wasn’t holding the box of what appeared to be her belongings, Maxine was sure that she would be doing the same and in that moment, just like that, Maxine knew that Franky’s feelings were not one-sided; they were reciprocated. It was such an intimate moment that was being witnessed within the very public yard, even without physical contact, and Maxine observed all of the inmates in proximity watching the same scene she was.

She had to admit that the audience didn’t bode well for Franky. To be seen sharing such a moment with a member of staff, no matter if she was a screw or not, was going to make her fodder. Maxine made a note to herself to discuss it with Bea - some protection may be needed going forward.

Miss Westfall smiled softly as she spoke more with Franky before finally being ordered by Miss Bennett to move along. Franky, undeterred, ran after them from her side of the fence, keeping up with Miss Westfall who in turn tried to keep eye contact the entire way around. On the last door, Miss Westfall turned and gave Franky the sweetest smile she likely could muster and Maxine thought a solar eclipse might hurt her eyes less than seeing Franky’s defeat at Miss Westfall leaving her behind. 

As Franky stood with her shoulders slumped and her expression entirely heartbroken, Maxine finally made her move. She gracefully walked up to Franky and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She knew what it was like to lose someone she loved, after all, though her incident did involve stabbing someone with scissors. 

“Oh, hon,” Maxine started in a gentle and soothing tone, “I’m sorry.”

Franky instinctively shrugged off Maxine’s hand and shoved her own hands in her pockets. She was attempting to rebuild the walls that had just dropped so spectacularly for Miss Westfall, but Maxine could see right through her.

“You liked her,” Maxine said simply.

“Nuh,” Franky shook her head, aggravated by the line of questioning, “just cared ‘bout my parole, s’all.”

“It’s okay, you know,” Maxine ignored the deflection, “Miss Westfall was one of the good ones.”

“Fuck off ,” Franky suddenly hit back. She stepped away from Maxine and her hands came out of her pockets and up in a warning gesture for her to stop, “What else do ya want? Huh? You already got what you fuckin’ needed! Go report back to Queen Bea like a good guard dog.”

Maxine merely raised her eyebrows; she knew better than to rise to the bait of an angry Franky, especially when she just wanted to watch the world burn. She would never fight fire with fire.

“I wanted,” Maxine explained calmly, “to make sure you’re alright. You may not think it, Franky, but people here care about you. Bea cares about you. Boomer cares about you. I care about you… and Miss Westfall cares about you.”

Franky remained silent though she gritted her teeth and huffed at the mention of Miss Westfall. 

“Do you think she’d want to see you like this? Hmm? Do you think she would want to see the Franky Doyle she has come to know and… love…” Franky flinched at the word, but Maxine pushed forward, “fall apart so close to getting out of here?”

“I hate this place,” Franky broke just like that, looking around and letting out a futile laugh as she tried to stop herself from crying, “and with Bridget gone…”

“No,” Maxine shook her head and came closer, placing both of her hands on Franky’s shoulders and getting her to look straight into her eyes, “you do not talk like that, okay? You’ll see her again, you know you will.”

Franky said nothing, and Maxine couldn’t tell if she believed her just yet. 

“Okay,” Maxine concluded, “we’re going to go back to H Block and we’re going to watch something god-awful on the telly and you can tell me all about you and Miss Westfall, because I owe Bea on the special spend. She had a bet on the both of you.”

Franky’s shoulders slumped once more and this time the huff of laughter from her was genuine. She smiled at Maxine, who gave her a beautiful smile in return. 

As they walked back through the yard together, Maxine knew in her heart that it wasn’t the last they had seen of Miss Westfall. She’d be back for Franky, she just had to be.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three: Allie Novak

Allie couldn’t believe she’d been so blind as to not notice what was happening in front of her very nose. Maybe, after losing Bea, she had become just that little bit jaded and had unconsciously closed her eyes to any forms of love unraveling right in front of her, or maybe the two people in front of her had just hidden it so well that she never would have seen it even if she had looked for it. 

No, she decided quickly, Franky and Miss Westfall couldn’t be more obvious if they tried. 

The revelation had started near the stairs, when Allie was discussing the escape plan with Franky. Miss Westfall had passed them by, attempting a half-hearted reassuring smile as her eyes skirted over them both suspiciously.

Allie had merely raised her eyebrows at that.

“If she does, just say you want me,” Franky had said of Smiles, causing Allie to remember her earlier conversation with the prison psych.  

“Yeah alright that’s good, she reckons we’re fucking anyway,” Allie had nodded her head toward where Miss Westfall had just been.

“What? Why?”

Franky had looked perturbed at that information, but Allie just shrugged it off as not wanting others to know her business (or lack thereof). 

“Oh I don’t know, ” Allie had responded, “she gave me some weird lecture about not getting involved on the rebound.”  

It was at that moment that Allie sensed the change in Franky. No longer fixated on their plan or the route that Allie had pointed out for investigation, Franky instead tried to push her off into the yard so she could make her way elsewhere. What she didn’t count on, however, was that Allie wasn’t such a fool. She knew something was up and, after agreeing amiably to Franky’s half-cocked plan, Allie had instead slowly trailed behind the other inmate and followed her as she quickly made her way up the stairs and toward the Education Centre.

Right where Miss Westfall would be.

Interesting, Allie thought as she tried to stay out of sight.

Franky walked into the Education Centre, with Allie close behind. Miss Westfall was unstacking plastic chairs and gave Franky a brief once-over as she entered, her tired eyes displaying only pure sadness, before she returned to her work.

Allie wondered what had happened that caused Miss Westfall to look so defeated. She had noticed that the psychologist wasn’t her usual self lately, but it seemed to have come to a head in the past few days, with Miss Westfall looking particularly troubled and harried. 

“D’you wanna hand?” she heard Franky ask.

“Nuh,” came the sharp response from Miss Westfall. 

Miss Westfall threw the chair she had been holding back down on the pile and turned around, willfully ignoring Franky in the process. Allie took that opportunity of distraction on both their parts to slip into the room, hiding amongst the dark bookshelves near the door. If Miss Westfall had something to do with their escape plan or if Franky was going to unknowingly jeopardize what they had worked towards by accidentally letting slip to a member of staff, Allie needed to know. 

She watched as Franky started pulling chairs out anyway in a lame attempt to help.  

“Franky…” Miss Westfall warned, her tone brooking no argument. She waved her hand, signaling for Franky to leave her, “please.”

When Franky ignored her and instead moved right up to her, Allie really started to get the feeling that she had walked into something a lot more personal than she had first thought. She watched as Franky moved as close as humanly possible to the other woman and her arms twitched as if she was going to reach out and grab Miss Westfall’s biceps. Instead she waited calmly, until Miss Westfall gave her her full attention.

“I’m not fucking Allie,” Franky stated clearly as she stared directly into Miss Westfall’s eyes, “I would not do that to you.”

Holy shit. 

Allie wanted to gasp and threw her hand over the mouth to cover any sound coming out. Franky and Miss Westfall were fucking ? 

No, she surmised quickly as she considered the scene unfolding right before her eyes. Judging from the care in Franky’s approach and what she said, that she would not betray her like that, it was more than fucking.  Franky and Miss Westfall were an item. 

Bea, I wish you were here right now, Allie thought desperately, you’d get such a kick out of this.

Allie wondered if Bea had already known. Miss Westfall had been working at the prison long before Allie stepped foot in it, so Bea must have seen something between the two, surely? Allie had no doubt that Bea would have clocked what was happening there; she was attentive like that.

Miss Westfall, meanwhile, was staring at Franky, jutting her chin upwards as she assessed what to believe. Allie hoped beyond anything that Miss Westfall would see that Franky was telling the truth, as the last thing she needed was to be caught up in a make-believe love triangle between her friend and a member of staff. 

“I would not do that to you.”

She still couldn’t wrap her head around Franky… and Miss Westfall. 

Franky remained staring at… her girlfriend? Ex-girlfriend? Allie didn’t know, and everything about her seemed honest and open. She then nodded, as if to ask silently that Miss Westfall believed her. In return, Miss Westfall gave a small but sure nod.

They were okay. 

For now at least.

Allie let out a breath she didn’t realise she had been holding. As she watched Franky turn around and walk back out the door, she started to truly understand why Miss Westfall had looked so downtrodden the last little while; it had been since Franky re-entered the prison. She felt stupid for having not connected the dots sooner, but told herself that she had been grieving her own loss. 

Only hers had been permanent.

For Franky and Miss Westfall, there was still hope. It was slim and entirely dependent on Franky clearing her name, but it was there in the two very alive heartbeats. 

She felt for them both. It was an impossible situation that they were in and Allie knew the lengths Franky had gone to in order to push the people who cared about her away. It was Allie’s persistence that had kept her tied to Franky’s side though she was sure that, judging from the keen heartbreak on their faces in the moment, Miss Westfall had offered that same support from the other side of the bars and was instead met with rebuttal.

Allie waited as Miss Westfall stood, hands on her hips and staring out the door after Franky. It was a few moments of silence and unsteady breaths, before Miss Westfall sank into one of the plastic seats and let out a heart shattering sob. She covered her face with her shaking hands and Allie took that as her cue to slowly creep out from behind the bookshelf.

She should leave.

She already knew too much and if anyone else found out… there would be trouble. Allie knew that she should just quietly slink out the door and act as if she had never witnessed the two at all. It would be best for all of them.

So why then was she taking steps towards the distraught Miss Westfall? Allie’s mouth opened on its own volition and words came tumbling out:

“When Bea died…”

Miss Westfall looked up at the sudden noise and hastily wiped at her eyes. She couldn’t let an inmate see her like that, though Allie had spent her fair share of time crying in the lime green chairs in the office.

“... I felt like there was no hope left,” Allie continued as she walked toward Miss Westfall, “I had just given up, y’know? I mean, sure I could get angry, bitter, and I did, but none of that helped with the very real fact that Bea wasn’t coming back. She was just… gone.”

“I’m sorry,” Miss Westfall said, her voice tired and raw from crying, “what you’ve gone through-”

“-is hard,” Allie agreed with a nod, “but Miss Westfall… Franky is still here. I know it’s hard and Franky is Franky but… don’t give up just yet. Please.”

Miss Westfall gave her the ghost of a smile and rubbed her face wearily.

“Allie, there’s nothing-”

“-Going on between you and Franky,” Allie rolled her eyes, “yeah, got it. But just… think about what I said, okay?”

“It’s difficult,” Miss Westfall admitted quietly. She shifted in her seat, as if uncomfortable with her own honesty. Ironic for a prison psych, Allie thought idly, “to be so physically close to someone and yet be pushed so far. To be watching from the sidelines and waiting, just waiting, for the day that everything you know and love just… disappears.”

“But she won’t,” Allie promised with what she hoped was reassurance, leading to a small sigh of acknowledgement in return.

Then, as if sensing that she had said too much, Miss Westfall frowned and stood up quickly. She ran her hands through her messy hair and looked at Allie with a forced smile. There was no corresponding twinkle in her eye.

“Thank you,” she said, “but you should get back to work duty before you get raked over hot coals.”

Allie nodded at that, making no other point, and walked out the door. As Miss Westfall watched her leave the room, her look still one of mild suspicion that couldn’t be shaken quite yet, Allie couldn’t help but feel that it was going to get a lot worse before it got better, especially if Miss Westfall discovered their plan to escape. As Allie walked down the corridor, replaying in her head what she had witnessed, she wondered what Bea would have thought about Franky and Miss Westfall. 

Chapter Text

Liz had long suspected that something had been happening between Franky and Miss Westfall,  but she knew it beyond a doubt the day she came across Miss Westfall in what could only be described as a drunken stupor. The problem was that usually such a revelation, that Franky and Miss Westfall had found love in such a place, should be met with joy and fondness… and instead all Liz could do was worry for them both as well as herself. After all, her biggest secret rested in the hands of someone who went out and got pissed on her lunch break. What if Miss Westfall had a mouth like Liz when she drank and let it slip that Liz was Witness X? Sonia was a formidable person with a body count; Liz didn’t stand a chance. 

Liz had watched Franky shrink in on herself since returning. Though the inmate hadn’t gone back to her old ways, and Liz secretly hoped that was because she had something to fight for on the outside, she had continued to push everyone she loved away. Boomer, Doreen, herself and, Liz suspected, Miss Westfall.

Since Franky had come back for a second stint at Wentworth, it had become quite obvious to Liz that the two were more familiar with each other than they had been prior to Franky’s first release. When Franky had been released, Miss Westfall had been re-hired and seemed... so happy. She was put-together, engaged with inmates, and always on hand to help. When Franky returned, however, Miss Westfall had become… well, the walking dead to put it mildly. She was distracted, absent, and often looking like she had been up all night. Liz struggled to find a time when the psychologist wasn’t pushing her away, dismissing her and telling her she was busy or simply didn’t have the time… or as Liz had just found out, three sheets to the wind.

The only time she'd managed to really get anything from Miss Westfall was when she brought up that she loved Don Kaplan. Miss Westfall’s eyes had lit up at that, the attentiveness back, and Liz could have sworn that she sat up straighter. Maybe it was because she genuinely cared, or maybe it was because love brought her to thinking about Franky.

Liz didn’t know. All she did know was that the longer this situation between Franky and Miss Westfall went on, the more Liz was at risk of being revealed as Witness X and as the days without Don calling her to reassure her he was fine stretched on, Miss Westfall staring at her in that corridor, struggling to focus and hiding the wine on her breath, became the final straw. 

Liz arrived back at her unit agitated. It was like no-one else cared about Don except her. Sonia had murdered him, she just knew it and no-one gave a rat’s arse. Bureaucracy at its finest. She unceremoniously dropped herself into one of the chairs around the table and sighed as she considered her next move. Liz knew that her largest concern was Miss Westfall’s state of mind. With her assumptions about the two all but confirmed officially, she needed to talk to Franky. She needed her help.

As if summoned, Franky came racing around the corner. She looked worried, biting her lip as she headed toward her cell. Liz knew that lately she had been so concerned about Allie that she hadn’t quite checked in on how Franky had been faring. If Miss Westfall was anything to go by, it couldn’t be good.

“You alright, love?” Liz asked, bringing Franky to a halt.

“Yeah, fine,” came Franky’s short reply.

“I thought you were busy this afternoon?”

“Nuh, tried to get a session with Miss Westfall but she went home sick.”

Liz’s eyebrows rose at that and she tried her best to keep a neutral expression. She wasn’t sure that there and then was the right time, but conceded that it might be out of her hands..

“Right, right.”

“Liz,” Franky looked at her, knowing full well that Liz had the worst poker face in the prison, “spit it out.”

“She…” Liz considered how much to say to Franky. Truthfully she would rather have said nothing at all, but at the same time if her suspicions about the two of them were right, maybe Franky could talk some sense into Miss Westfall and help pull her away from the grog. Liz wished that she had that kind of support when it was her getting drunk on a dime, “... she was drunk, love.”

“What?” Franky’s brow furrowed as she looked at Liz exasperatedly, “what do you mean?”

“I saw her just after lunch, and she was pissed.”

“Nuh, you must have been mistaken.”

“If there’s one thing I know, Franky, it’s drinking.”

At that, Franky opened her mouth and then promptly shut it again. Liz saw when the recognition finally hit; the endless onslaught of previously innocent memories flooding her mind, every missed sign that was right before her eyes, being poured into glass after glass. Every excuse for why just one more glass of wine would help. 

Liz felt terrible and wanted to help soothe the pain, she really did, but she couldn’t. She needed Franky to see it for what it was so she could help Miss Westfall through it. She hated herself just a little bit as she watched Franky crumble before her, but one thought kept coming to mind clear as day.

Miss Westfall knew you were Witness X.

“Fuck!” Franky cried out, her hands coming up and pulling at her hair. She turned to Liz, truly clueless, “well? What the fuck do I do?”

“Well, if you want my advice,” Liz considered her answer. It wasn’t difficult, but she wasn’t sure whether Franky was ready to admit that she and Miss Westfall were something more, “I think the answer is that you two set aside whatever has happened between you, and you support her through it.”

Franky dropped into the seat beside Liz in response and rubbed her face wearily. Her sideways glance told Liz that she was debating coming clean about their relationship, and Liz didn’t realize how much she craved that confirmation until now. It was stupid, really, but she hoped that Franky would trust her enough to take her advice; she was after all like a daughter to Liz and, Witness X aside, she wanted to see Franky happy.

“She liked a glass of wine,” Franky admitted in a whisper, “in the evening… y’know, before this shitshow. The glasses kept getting bigger and the wine rack kept getting emptier but… I didn’t see it, Liz. Not like that.”

“Why would you have?” Liz smiled, “love makes us blind.”

Franky let out a watery laugh and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

“Yeah,” she said thickly, willing her tears not to drop, “you can say that again.”

“How long?” Liz asked in a gentle manner. She was trying not to spook Franky or get her to clam up, “how long were you two together?”

At that question, Franky looked away. She didn’t answer.

“Bea knew, or at least suspected,” Liz revealed idly, “and Maxine. They used to talk about you both back when Miss Westfall first started. I saw the way being around her changed you… but I guess I never really put it all together until you came back.”

Franky remained silent.

“Seeing her just now… struggling with it all like that,” Liz carried on, “that’s when I knew.”

“When Maxine and Bea figured it,” Franky finally started talking. Her eyes were glued to her hands which were fidgeting on the table, “they each confronted me, y’know?”

“Oh, I bet,” Liz smiled sadly, “nosey buggars, weren’t they?”

They both laughed.

“I couldn’t admit it, not there and then,” Franky explained, “I didn’t think I was ever going to find that in a person. I was on the road to leaving in a coffin and I just figured… what was the point in hoping?”

“I’m glad you found her,” Liz responded honestly, “I can’t speak for her, but she’s been good for you. Don’t let this, ” she gestured to the teal walls around them, “ruin that for you both.”

Franky finally took that opportunity to look over at Liz. She was struggling to keep the tears at bay and Liz almost let her own fall. 

“Thank you,” Franky said emphatically, “for helpin’... and for never saying anything about it, even with Red and Maxine gossipin’.” 

At that, Franky gave her a small smile.

“Well who would believe a drunk lagger like me anyway?” Liz responded with a wink. 

As Franky stood up and walked into her cell, Liz sat at the table and contemplated their conversation. Franky had confirmed her suspicions and she was grateful; now all she needed was for Miss Westfall to sober up and she’d feel a lot better about the Witness X business. As she moved to get up herself, Liz wondered if anyone else had figured Franky and Miss Westfall out yet.

Chapter Text

Chapter Five: Will Jackson

Will Jackson had had his suspicions, but his confirmation came from the visit.

It was just another day with Will looking down at the visitor list. Since his demotion from Deputy Governor in favour of Jake Stewart, visitor centre duties had once again fallen to him, but it was a job that Will didn’t mind so much. While there were some bad moments that stayed with him, such as Liz’s visits from her daughter, Sophie, or kids collapsing from being forced to hold drugs, there were hundreds of good moments that made him really believe in what he was doing. Seeing the joy on inmates’ faces at seeing their loved ones gave Will hope. 

Will’s finger traced down the list, when he came to a sudden stop at the bottom. A last-minute visitor parachuted in for none other than Franky Doyle. Since Franky’s reappearance in the prison, Will had witnessed few visitors pass through the doors for her, and never with any notable continuity. Aside from her legal team, she’d seen her father, Alan, and the young kid, Shane Butler, a few times but no-one else had walked through those doors for Franky. At first, that had surprised Will the most about her coming back; he had seen her on the outside on a couple of occasions and she looked to be thriving. So why did Franky have no-one else coming to see her? 

His first piece of evidence came early on in Franky’s second stay at Wentworth. He’d heard the rumours from way back when, of course he had, but he had been too preoccupied at the time with the accusations surrounding the murder of Harry Smith, and the fallout with Rose and Bea, to pay them the slightest bit of attention. Much like himself, Will figured that the rumours about Bridget Westfall and Franky Doyle had been unfounded. However, when the police had arrived to interview Franky, Will had asked around only to discover that she was in a last-minute appointment with Bridget. Will had thought it strange as he was certain it was past Bridget’s working hours, but had put it down to a mental health crisis. He couldn’t blame Franky, after all; coming back to prison after a taste of freedom? It would be enough to screw with anyone’s head. 

He had then noticed the blinds pulled shut on Bridget’s office window, another curiosity, but he threw caution to the wind and  quickly knocked on Bridget’s door to announce his presence and, without waiting for any form of acknowledgement, had walked right in. The second thing that Will had noticed was that the lights were off. The third thing was that Bridget and Franky stood in the middle of the office, three feet apart from each other, trying and failing to look casual. If Will didn’t know any better, it was as if they had just jumped apart when interrupted, which would certainly explain the distance as well as Bridget’s hands flexing nervously. There was also something happening, like a thick tension between them.

“It’s the police,” Will had advised them, choosing to ignore the feeling of intruding upon a private moment, “they want to interview Doyle.”

He had then watched neutrally as Franky and Bridget looked at each other, a silent conversation taking place between them. With a small nod, Franky walked towards the door and Will saw Bridget take a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling as her eyes trailed after Franky out the door.

It had certainly been an odd experience and, since then, he had certainly been more tuned in. He was confused by the yo-yo effect between the two, with Bridget offering to take files to Franky one moment, then avoiding her like the plague the next. However, he hadn’t quite been privy to a moment like in the office again. 

Until the visit, that was.

Will looked at the name Bridget Westfall on the list and his brow furrowed. Bridget had left not that long ago, resigned and walked away the same day. He hadn’t questioned it, it wasn’t his place to, but he did wonder if it had something to do with the supposed relationship between Franky and Allie. Linda Miles had been more than eager to tell anyone who would listen and pay that she caught Franky and Allie making out and then mere days later… no more Bridget. No-one had really heard from her since but just like that, there was her name stamped across the visitor access list.

Will looked up from the list and, by sheer coincidence, there stood Bridget Westfall. She had appeared from inside the building somewhere and she sauntered up to the front desk with a relaxed smile. Will had to admit; she looked a damned sight better than the last few times he had seen her. It seemed like there was a weight off her shoulders, her short hair messy from styling as opposed to constantly running her hands through it. Her smile wasn’t forced, either. She looked genuinely happy to see him and to be in the building.

“Bridget,” Will nodded with a smile. He didn’t stand on formalities where she was concerned.

“Will,” Bridget responded with a grin, “how’s it going?”

“All the worse without you,” he said deadpan, causing Bridget to laugh, “were you just here on business?”

“Mr. Channing,” Bridget raised her eyebrows, “glad it’s over.”

“Uh huh,” Will looked at her, still smiling, “and… are you still here on business?”

Bridget opened her mouth and then closed it just as quickly. Her eyes lit up in recognition of Will’s fishing question and she looked away briefly to compose herself.

“I am here at Franky Doyle’s request.”

She stared at him, chin lifted high as if challenging him to say more. Will knew to pick his battles and instead gave her the standard orange visitor pass, which she clipped to her trousers with ease.

“Right this way,” Will swept out his arm and Bridget followed him down the usual corridor. 

***

Will stood at the main desk, pretending to look at the screens when he was really watching the table in the middle of the room. Bridget had just caused quite the stir amongst the women as she walked into the visitor room, with many of them turning their heads to get a better look at the psychologist-turned-visitor. Bridget, however, had eyes only for Franky and the smile she gave the inmate was enough to confirm Will’s suspicions. It wasn’t the smile of an ex-staff member seeing her old client. No, it was that of someone very much in love lighting up at seeing that person again. Franky, in return, had looked so genuinely happy to see Bridget as she stood up to greet her. It was a side of Franky that Will had seldom seen before.  

Something had been going on between them and Will was more certain than ever that Franky had thrived so much outside of Wentworth thanks in part to Bridget’s love. 

As a general rule, Will tried his best not to eavesdrop on inmate visits. He really did. However, when other visitors had started to filter out of the room and when the ten minute warning had been given, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop and every voice, even hushed, echoed around the empty space. Franky and Bridget soon were the only ones left in the room, reluctant it seemed to leave each other. Will attempted to take his mind off the remaining occupants and turned his attention to the computer screens in front of him, to no avail.

“It’s good to see you, Gidge. You look good,” he heard Franky say in a hushed voice. She was looking at Bridget with such a tenderness that it made Will’s heart ache for her.

Bridget hummed in response, though she smiled back just as sweetly.

“I feel good,” Bridget explained just as quietly. She tapped her fingers against the table as she spoke, a nervous tic that she had always had, “time and space are wonderful for self-reflection.”

“Ugh, sounds boring,” Franky said playfully as she scrunched her nose, “but I’m glad it helped.”

“I was surprised to get your call.”

Bridget’s statement hung in the air between them for a moment. Franky looked down at her hands, which were clasped on the table in front of her. She then surveyed the room and, seeing that it was just them and Will, she debated her next move. Franky’s eyes met Will’s and Will gave her the smallest of nods, as if to say your secret is safe with me.

Franky shot him a look of gratitude before her hand crept across the table. Bridget, seeing the gesture, moved her own hand without hesitation and met Franky’s in the middle. It was the smallest physical contact allowed between them but it was enough .

Franky’s thumb stroked over Bridget’s knuckles, as if memorizing every groove, and Will smiled as he looked the other way.

“I miss you,” Franky said with all the honesty she could muster, “I can’t stop thinking ‘bout ya. It’s like… every moment we had together is playing itself out in my head, on repeat.”

Bridget breathed deeply and sniffed, attempting to regulate her emotions at the statement. Will found himself painstakingly invested in their conversation, though he tried so hard not to be. 

“I know,” was all Bridget said. Her tone was wistful, her voice small, “I know, Franky.”

“I wish that none of this had happened,” Franky’s voice started to break and Will watched sadly as tears started to form in her eyes, “I wish that-”

“Two minutes!” Will called out. He hated to interrupt, but figured they would appreciate the warning nonetheless.

“Oh, fuck,” Franky used her other hand to swipe at her eyes, “I’m sorry, Gidge, really. For everything. I want you to be happy.”

“Don’t you say it,” Bridget warned her, “not here, not now. Don’t you dare.”

“Maybe you were right gettin’ away from here, from me. A clean break.”

“I’m here,” Bridget leaned across the table at that, gripping both of Franky’s hands in her own. Franky let out a sob at the contact, “I meant it when I said I wish I could say no, but the truth is I can’t. I’m here and I will help you, okay?”

“I fuckin’ love ya.”

“I love you too, baby. Don’t give up.”

“Ladies!” Will shouted. He didn’t want to put a stop to their moment, but he couldn’t risk Franky’s sentence any further, or Bridget’s career. What Will witnessed in those last few moments… he needed to protect their relationship at all costs. It was what he fought for daily for those women inside those walls. 

Bridget stood up and, with one final squeeze of Franky’s hands, she backed away. As she brushed past Will, she wiped the tears from her eyes with the palms of her hands. Will offered nothing but a reassuring smile as she left. 

Will walked over to Franky, who was slumped at the table with her head in her hands. 

“Doyle,” he said gently, “time to go.”

“Mr J,” Franky said as she wiped her face on her tank top, “what you overheard-”

“-I didn’t hear anything,” Will stated, his expression neutral, “now it’s time to go back to your unit.”

“You’re a good man,” Franky replied, “I don’t think I’ve said it enough.”

“Don’t go all soft on me now, Doyle,” Will smiled, “now let’s go. Miss Westfall will be back soon, I don’t doubt it.”

“Yeah,” Franky nodded as she stood up, “Yeah, you’re right.”

Will watched as Franky walked out of the room and he sighed. He hoped for the best for them both, truly, in whatever small way they could find.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six: Susan 'Boomer' Jenkins

Boomer was always the last to know everything, and that was often a cause for complaint and frustration for the larger-than-life inmate. However, this time around even Boomer had to admit she had been pretty obtuse all along.

The first time it had been mentioned, she had been concentrating on her hatred of all things Franky. She had heard Bea faintly through her cell door mention a possible thing between Franky and the new therapist, but her hands were hurting and she wanted some Monte Carlos so bad that she had put it completely out of her mind. Franky definitely needed her head looking at for what she put her through, after all! 

The second time it had been mentioned, she thought it was just a joke. Kim Chang had screamed at Miss Westfall through the fence about fucking Franky, and Boomer, still so angry at her former friend, had got right onboard in an effort to take Franky down a peg or two.

The third time was after Franky was released, when Kim had come back from her stint in medical and the slots raving about how Miss Westfall had taken Franky away from her. Boomer had simply put it down to the ravings of a whackjob on a drug cocktail and laughed at her as she screamed in her small cell.

There had been many times after that, and as always each one went unacknowledged by Boomer. The nail in the coffin, however, that sweet moment of realization, had come from Franky’s last visit. Boomer had greeted her in her usual bear hug but, when they had sat down, Franky wasn’t grinning from ear-to-ear as she usually did. Instead, she looked nervous, biting her lip as her leg jiggled up and down incessantly. 

Boomer plowed on with the conversation, telling her all about Liz’s memorial and how she was faring as one of the last of the original crew. She told Franky everything, right down to her lunch that day, and whilst she regaled her with every story she could think of, Franky remained on edge. When her distractedness reached its peak, Boomer knew she had to confront it.

“Oi!” she practically bellowed, causing a titter of laughter through the visitor room. She clicked her fingers wildly in front of Franky’s face, “you bloody listenin’ or what?”

Franky broke from her reverie and had the decency to look abashed.

“Sorry, Booms, I’m just…”

“Jus’ what?” Boomer asked, “you ‘aint hear a word I said. Spit it out, alright!”

Franky blew out a big breath and tucked errant strands of hair behind her ears before she leant across the table and grabbed Boomer’s hands in her own.

“I wanted you to be the first to know…” she started, but stopped for a moment to gather her words, “but shit this is scary to say it out loud.”

At that point, Boomer was expecting the worst. Was Franky ill? Was it cancer like Maxine? Had someone else died? Was she being sent back to Wentworth? Boomer tried to look calm, but her cheeks started to redden as she felt her emotions churning. 

“I’m going to ask Bridget to marry me,” Franky finally said. She bit her lip once more as she tried to gauge Boomer’s reaction. 

Boomer sat, stunned at the news. Of all the things, she was not expecting that one. She opened her mouth but it just hung open as she had nothing jumping to the forefront of her mind.

Franky was going to propose…

… to Bridget…? Bridget… Who was Bridget?

“Who the fuck is that?” Boomer asked eventually, “and why didn’t I know about her, eh!?”

Franky looked baffled at Boomer’s question and slumped in her chair. She threw her hands up in exasperation. 

“Booms, we sent you a bloody Christmas card!” 

“Nuh,” Boomer shook her head, “you an’ someone called Gidge sent me cards!”

“Gidge… is short for Bridget,” she whispered. Did Boomer seriously not know after all that time who she was even talking about? “Bridget Westfall. Ring any big fuckin’ bells for ya?”

That name sounded familiar and tickled a recess in Boomer’s mind. Westfall. Hey! Just like that Miss Westfall that worked here-

And just like that, it all clicked and Boomer let out a startled exclamation.

“Wait what the fuck!? You and Miss Westfall!?”  

“Shhh, Booms,” Franky hissed. She looked alarmed as one of the Corrections Officers glanced over at them, ready to quiet them down, “don’t go fuckin’ announcing it to the world!”

“You… and Miss Westfall?” Boomer was shocked, but every moment seemed to suddenly make sense. She knew the rumours that had circulated the first time about them- Hell, she helped start and spread them along with Kim- but she figured that’s all it was; rumours. Never had she put two and two together and came up with four. Three, yes. Two, sometimes. Five at a push. But never four.

“Wait a minute…” Boomer lowered her voice in acquiescence to Franky’s urging, “when did it happen!? Have you two been… y’know,” she made a messy hand gesture, “all this time!?”

“No,” Franky shook her head vehemently, “well… actually yeah, I guess. Not the first time here, but… after I got out the first time.”

Boomer sat back in her chair, still trying to wrap her head around it. 

“Fuckin’ hell.”

“You seriously had no idea?” Franky asked, bewildered, “all this time!? I haven’t exactly hidden it from ya, Booms! She was in the bloody room when I got out the second time! Didn’t ya wonder why?”

“I mean, you told us she was helpin’ ya on the outside but I thought you were still seein’ her for your head and stuff,” Boomer shrugged defensively, “no fuckin’ way did I think you were goin’ bumper to bumper. Shit, Franks, that’s crazy!”

Franky turned serious and clasped her hands together on the table. She looked at Boomer. 

“It’s more than that, Booms. I love her. I’m in love with her.”

Holy shit. 

“That’s, er…,” Boomer didn’t know what to say to that. She sniffed and crossed her arms and Franky worried for a brief moment that she had done something wrong in telling Boomer first. However, when the biggest smile suddenly broke out on her face and her eyes lit up with glee, Franky knew that she had made the right choice.

“Shit, you’re gettin’ married, Franky!” Boomer launched herself upwards and grabbed Franky across the table, hoisting her up into an awkward hug. 

“Jenkins!” The guard shouted and she released Franky, waving her hand apologetically.

“Sorry!”

She threw herself back down in her chair smugly.

“I ain't sorry,” she whispered excitedly, “can’t believe it, never figured you’d get hitched!”

“Yeah, I know,” Franky smiled, “but, I’m not married yet. I’m gonna ask… Who knows if she’ll say yes.”

Boomer scoffed at that.

“If Miss Westfall helped ya on the run, reckon she’s in it for life.”

Franky laughed at that, giving a nod as if to say ‘you got me there’. 

“It’s gonna be fuckin’ aces ! You gotta have a big wedding, yeah? With lots of booze and music and…”

At that, Boomer trailed off and her smile faltered. And lots of friends and family. She wondered who Franky’s bridesmaids would be if she had any, or who would give a toast worthy of her. Were there people on the outside that knew Franky like her H Block crew did? Franky had never really mentioned anyone… 

“What’s wrong, Booms?”

“I just…” Boomer felt the tears start and sniffed in an attempt to control them, “I guess I just wish I could be there, y’know? Cos, like, I reckon I’d make a great maid of honor o-or like, maybe I could’ve got constrained-”

“Ordained, ” Franky corrected with a grin. 

“Yeah, that,” Boomer brushed past it, “I could’ve married ya or sumfin’. Maybe I could’ve been there if it weren’t for me fuckin’ mum and that day release and-”

“Boomer,” Franky tried to halt Boomer’s downward spiral, her tone firm as she took Boomer’s hands in her own once more, “Boomer. Listen.”

Boomer went quiet, sniffing as the tears finally fell.

“Look, we’ll try, okay?” Franky said, “if Gidge says yes, then I’ve got a plan in mind and it involves all three of us goin’ hard at Vinegar Tits, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Boomer said tearfully. She dropped Franky’s hand to wipe her face on her hoodie. 

“I love ya,” Franky said tearfully, “can’t have a wedding without the biggest sook, can we?”

Boomer laughed as she frantically swiped at more tears. 

“I love ya too.”

“Lezza,” Franky winked.

“Oi! Fuck off!”

They both lapsed into silence for a moment after their laughter and Boomer sighed as she leaned back in her chair. 

“So… who else knew ‘bout you two then? Was I the first?”