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| The Right Tackle; Part Two: A Larkhall Story | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 27 2010, 02:43 AM (3,705 Views) | |
| zena | Oct 5 2010, 06:31 PM Post #16 |
I said SIT IN THAT CHAIR
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Excellent update, I wonder how Helen is doing? More please. |
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| Jane | Oct 6 2010, 08:27 AM Post #17 |
mad about helen
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thanks for the update u really write these characters differently . I just hope Helen will be ok with what has happened between nikki and yvonne! what is happening with her by the way? hope we have a happy ending! |
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| mlbach | Oct 6 2010, 01:41 PM Post #18 |
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Keys for the handcuffs!
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If Nikki can handle what happens between Helen and Thomas, surely Helen can handle what happens between Nikki and Yvonne--if she ever found out about it. Remember--Nikki promised never to mention it to anybody, ever. Our girl Nikki keeps her promises. As for Helen, she is shagging the good doctor and trying to get Jim bloody Fenner by the balls. (Don't worry, Jane--I write by the BG 'bible,' so of course we'll have a happy ending!) Do you really think I write the characters differently than they were in the show? That is not my intention, in fact, just the opposite. In what way are they different? Please tell me, because I really want to be true to the characters. |
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| mlbach | Oct 7 2010, 04:55 AM Post #19 |
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Keys for the handcuffs!
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Chapter 8 Nikki tapped lightly on the metal door. Yvonne looked up from her magazine, “Hey, Nikki.” Nikki blushed and mumbled, “Just wanted a private good-bye before tomorrow morning.” “Anyone see you come here?” Nikki shook her head, “Don’t think so.” Yvonne jerked her head slightly and Nikki stepped inside and swung the door shut. “Tomorrow’s the big day…” Nikki took a deep breath and nodded. “Think it looks good?” “Hope so. Claire thinks so.” Yvonne narrowed her eyes, “Then why the long face?” “You. In here. And no one to watch your back.” “Don’t worry about me, love. I can take care of meself.” “Helen’s gone, and if I win my appeal I’ll be gone. And Fenner’s still here.” Yvonne scoffed, “It'll take more than him to stitch me up.” Nikki looked at her morosely. “Please, be careful, Yvonne.” “Oh, I will, love. And you—after you leave for court tomorrow, I don’t ever want to see your bloody face again, unless it’s on the outside. You hear?” Nikki nodded. She said carefully, “When…” she didn’t use the word that was in her mind, “you get out—look me up. There’s a club in London called Chix—C-H-I-X. I co-own it with Trisha Harris. We’ve been talking on the phone, and she was at court today. We might work things out between us. But even if we aren’t a couple, we’ll still be business partners. She’ll always know how to get in touch with me." “Think it’s a good idea for you to associate with a common criminal? ‘Cuz I was that even before I came here.” Nikki blinked, her voice harsh, “You think I give a damn about that?” Yvonne looked at her searchingly, then shook her head, “No. You wouldn’t—not even if you ought to.” A thought came to her, “Was Stewart at court, then?” “No.” “She’s not workin’—she coulda been there.” Nikki looked down but didn’t say anything. Yvonne shook her head, “She’s a bloody fool, Nikki.” Nikki looked at her and smiled fondly, “I love you, too, Yvonne.” Yvonne scoffed, “Well, give us a kiss, then. Slip in a bit of tongue, an’ all. You know you want to.” Nikki embraced her and whispered, “You’re gonna miss me, Atkins. Gonna miss my tackle, anyway.” She kissed her, with just a bit of tongue. Yvonne put both hands on either side of Nikki’s face and fiercely kissed her back. When she released her she said, “Now piss off outta me room. I need me beauty sleep.” |
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| mlbach | Oct 7 2010, 12:21 PM Post #20 |
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Keys for the handcuffs!
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ok, the system is translating my post into greek. I'll try again later. |
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| mlbach | Oct 7 2010, 02:42 PM Post #21 |
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Keys for the handcuffs!
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Let's try it again. This is the final chapter. Thanks to all who read it and commented on it. Chapter 9 Nikki was about to go into the office at Chix when Trish called to her. “Hey, Nikk—did you know someone named Atkins at Larkhall?” Nikki called back, “Yeah. Yvonne Atkins. What about it?" “She escaped.” “What…?” “It’s on the telly.” Nikki ran into the main part of the club and looked at the giant screen in the corner of the bar. Behind the newscaster was a picture of Yvonne—her induction photo, apparently, because she was wearing the same clothes that Nikki remembered from the first time she’d seen her. Unlike most such photos, including her own, there was no fear or uncertainty in her expression. She was looking at the camera as if she were looking at Bodybag and thinking, “You daft cow.” Nikki turned to Trish, “I’m taking the day off.” "You what?" “I’ll be back tomorrow.” “Um...OK..." “Let me have an unopened bottle of our best single malt.” Trish handed her a bottle without a word. “And a pack of those,” she pointed to Yvonne’s favorite brand. “Put it on my tab.” She grabbed a box of matches off the bar. “Sure,” Trish said to Nikki’s back as she strode out the door. Once on the highway, Nikki headed towards Wales. By mid-afternoon she reached the car park for Mt. Snowden, a place she hadn’t been to since a school outing more than two decades before. She used her mobile to leave a message at home—she knew how Helen hated being called at work. She opened the boot and rummaged around until she found her battered duffle bag. She wrapped her jacket around the Scotch. She stowed it in the bag and dropped the matches on top. She slipped the pack of cigarettes into her shirt pocket, slung the bag over her shoulder and headed up the trail. There weren’t many people on the trail, and almost all of them were headed back down the mountain. The weather was brisk but fine, with clouds scudding overhead. Apart from people on the trail it would have been dead quiet but for the wind and the few RAF jets that came screaming singly down the valleys. The noise caused her to jump the first couple times, but she noticed that the grazing sheep didn’t even bother to raise their heads. By the time she reached the summit, it was close to sunset and she was alone. She scrambled up the last few yards until she was at the very top. The wind had died and the air was still. She sat on the ground and dug into the bag, pulled out her jacket and shrugged into it. She pulled out the bottle, stood up and cracked open the seal. She poured a small amount of whiskey onto the ground, then raised the bottle and called out, “Here’s to you, Yvonne! You beat the bastards!” Her eyes welled with happy tears. “Have a good time in America or Australia or wherever you end up!” She took a large swallow. “I love you and miss you, but I hope I never see your bloody face again!” She took another couple swallows, then sat abruptly when she started feeling light-headed. She emptied the rest of the bottle onto the ground. She looked around her and saw with wonder that there was mist rising from below, so that only the tip of the summit was above it. Just a few feet away she could see several rooks that were riding the last thermals of the day, their backs nearly level with her. She took a cigarette from the pack and lit it, and smoked it as she watched the glints of gold on the metallic gray of the ocean disappear and the final rays of the sun behind the clouds on the horizon slowly fade. It was after midnight by the time Nikki got home. She quietly made her way to the bedroom, turning off the lights Helen had left on for her as she went. Once there, she peeled her clothes off in the glow of the night light and let them fall to the floor, to be dealt with in the morning. She started to crawl into bed when her gut rumbled and she belched. She froze until she heard a snicker coming from the bed. Nikki grinned sheepishly, “Sorry. I was trying not to wake you. Sodding take-away fish and chips!” “At least you’re home.” Helen threw back the covers for her and drew them up again once she was alongside her. “I missed you, Nikki. The flat seemed empty without you.” She wrapped her arms around Nikki, who sighed with the warmth. “You’re like ice!” chided Helen. “Where’ve you been?” Nikki paused a moment too long before she answered, “I went on a day trip.” Helen hugged her more closely but didn’t say anything further. It didn’t happen often, but every now and then a wall—or a set of bars—rose up between them, and they were back in their old roles of Governor and con again. Helen didn’t know how to get through that barrier, but she was sure that it wouldn’t be by pursuing a line of questioning that Nikki was trying to evade. She kept hoping the day would come when Nikki felt comfortable enough to talk about those things on her own. Until then, she would be patient. She did mention what she suspected was the heart of the matter: “Did you hear that Yvonne Atkins escaped from Larkhall?” There was another pause that was just a bit too long. “Yeah.” “She has plenty of money and a good organization on the outside.” Not like you when you were thinking of legging it. “Maybe she’ll make it.” After a moment she added, “I hope she does make it. And don’t you dare tell anyone I said that!” Nikki embraced her more closely, “Thank you.” “What for?” “For being kind. For being you.” She buried her face in Helen’s hair and whispered, “For loving me.” “Ah, Nikki…” She stroked Nikki’s hair, dismayed. At least she knew a way around this barrier. She murmured, “Make love to me, Nikki.” Nikki began kissing her, softly at first, and then more deeply until Helen started making those little sounds in the back of her throat that Nikki loved. This would never cease feeling like a luxury—holding Helen in the night, being held by her. Did Yvonne have someone to hold her where she was now—or at least where she was heading? Nikki kissed Helen yet more deeply and thought, This is for you, Yvonne. The following was originally posted as a separate story (Dark Knight of the Soul). Epilogue “You’re dying, Yvonne.” “Nikki? Shit, I must be delirious.” ‘You were—you’re beyond that, now.” “Don’t believe you.” “Come on, Yvonne—when have I not been straight with you?” “Talkin’ or shaggin?” Nikki chuckled. “How the hell’d you get in here?” “You must have been thinking about me.” “Yeah—I was. I was thinkin’ I shoulda been more careful, like you said.” “I should have known better than to tell you that—I might as well have told you to stop breathing.” “Well, what’re you waitin’ for? Get me outta here.” “Would if I could, love, but you’re not ready to go through walls, yet.” “You what?” “You’re still alive. Barely.” Yvonne thought a moment. “So you’re not here in the flesh?” “Nope.” “Where the hell are you?” “At home, asleep.” “It’s night, then? ‘Cuz I know the time—I just lost track of whether it’s day or night.” “Yeah, it’s night. But as Fitzgerald said, 'In the dark night of the soul, it’s always three o’clock in the morning.'” “Who?” “F. Scott Fitzgerald.” “Another bleedin’ Scot? You’ll be recitin’ Bobby Burns to me, next.” “Irish, actually. And a Yank. I was hoping you might end up there.” “I was thinkin’ of that as a possible destination, meself. But, best laid plans, an’ all that…” “Now who’s reciting Burns?” ”What…? Oh, yeah.” She laughed and sat up. “Oh—there you are…Is it me, or is it getting lighter in here?” “It’s you, love.” “Hey—who’s that lyin’ th—? Oh…That’s me, dead, innit?” “Yup.” She thought a moment. “It didn’t hurt, this time.” “And you don’t have any parts missing, for a change.” “You know, compared to most battles we’ve fought together, this one was taking the piss.” “Well, I hope it’s the last one, ‘cuz it’s getting kinda old.” “Yeah. Bleedin’ waste of time, most of it…So, where do I go now?” “Same as always—anywhere you want.” “Hmm—I have half a mind to look up Charlie and kick his bleedin’ arse.” “Too late. He’s a toddler in Clapham Park. I should say, ‘she.’” “Bloody hell.” “A right little hard case she’s turning into, too. She’ll end up in here in fifteen years.” “Poor Charlie—I wouldn’t wish that on me worst enemy. Well, maybe Fenner,” “The world won’t have to worry about Jim bloody Fenner for too much longer.” "That bastard has a lot t' answer for." "Makes you wonder where he'll decide to go next. Probably someplace really nasty." "Yeah--I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.” She smiled, “Thanks for bein’ here, Nikki.” “I’m glad I was able to be here. Thanks for thinking of me.” “You won’t remember any of this, will you?” “No. And when I do find out you’re dead, it’s really going to tear me up.” “I’m sorry, love.” “That’s the risk we run, innit? It’s still worth it—loving someone.” “Yeah…Speakin’ of which—things workin’ out with you an’ Stewart?” “Mostly. She worries about me and she still tries to protect me, but I’m OK with it, so far. I’ll stand up and grow a pair when I need to, a year or so from now.” “Huh. I’d love to see that.” “Well, why don’t you stick around? You don’t have to be anywhere, do you? Not like Charlie. He died so suddenly he dove right back in again. His choice, but you can choose differently.” ”Maybe I will. I’d like to see Lauren. And me grandkids.” “They’ll be able to see you, too, while they’re still young enough.” Yvonne shifted restlessly. “I think I’m ready to leave this dump. Wanna come with me?” “I wouldn’t be able to keep up with you. And I can’t travel as far. I’m still tied to my body.” “I hope we can talk like this again.” “If I think of you just before I fall asleep, we can.” “’Bye, then, Nikki. Think of me.” “I will. ‘Bye, Yvonne.” Fin. |
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| zena | Oct 7 2010, 04:05 PM Post #22 |
I said SIT IN THAT CHAIR
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Loved it, Keep writing, I like the way you see the girls. Thank you great job. |
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| mlbach | Oct 8 2010, 02:04 AM Post #23 |
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Keys for the handcuffs!
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Thank you, Zena. I especially appreciated your comment that you thought it could be true--that's what I was aiming for. I had considered the possibility of Nikki and Yvonne being lovers when writing There Are Ways, but not in any detail. It just seemed logical to me, given their interactions and who they were as people. Thanks again. |
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| mlbach | Nov 16 2010, 10:21 PM Post #24 |
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Keys for the handcuffs!
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This story is a bridge between Part One and Part Three, starting before Part One ends, and ending a ways into Part Three. |
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| Jane22 | Nov 17 2010, 05:31 PM Post #25 |
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G2 landing
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That was awesome. Thanks! |
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| GG72 | Nov 23 2010, 11:15 PM Post #26 |
G2 landing
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This is deferent. Thanks for posting it.
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| yankeelady | Dec 13 2010, 01:04 AM Post #27 |
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G3 Curtain and Duvet!
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You managed to send me off to read the beginning...very believable. Next to Nikki and Helen, I always thought that Yvonne was as strong a character as they were. I also thought that there was more than a modicum of instant attraction between Yvonne and posh Charlotte. I think with Denny, the relationship was clearly mother/daughter, but with Charlotte...not so much. In any event, I clearly enjoyed this trip back into Larkhall, and I thank you for that.
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| Nikki...Don't get jealous... | |
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| CrashxBurn | Apr 1 2012, 03:45 AM Post #28 |
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G2 landing
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This was a great read. I was a bit reluctant to read the Nikki/Yvonne stuff (not really keen on them in an erotic capacity) but it was no worse than Helen shagging Sean and Thomas on the show. I like that you took a different direction with things and made it interesting, and I love that Nikki and Helen got their happy ending. |
"Sit in that chair!" -- "Don't you wish it was electric?"
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8:47 AM Jul 11