Chapter Text
If Franky had to choose her favorite thing about Bridget's house, it would definitely have to be the kitchen. She had only just seen it for the first time a few days ago, but damn the thing was a work of art. Plus, she was dying to finally be able to cook in a kitchen that didn't have the knives chained to the counter top.
Cooking had always relaxed Franky, something she discovered as a young girl when she was forced to prepare her own meals much sooner than any kid should have to. She used cooking as a way to escape; she loved getting lost in the process, figuring out new recipes and dishes. It was ironic that the very thing that helped her with her anger so many times in the past aided in landing her in prison.
However, besides looking forward to really digging back into her favorite hobby, she was admittedly looking forward to cooking for Bridget. Sure, Bridget had eaten food that Franky had prepared in Wentworth, but it was hardly the same; she barely had enough to work with to make a decent grilled cheese.
Five days after Franky stepped off of Wentworth’s property for the final time, she had the perfect opportunity to get aquatinted with this gorgeous kitchen; Bridget was back at Wentworth for her first full day of work since she was forced to resign. Vera had given her a call the day before, apologizing for her responsibility in getting Bridget fired and asking her to "please come back" as the "women needed her". Of course they did! She was one of the only people in that place that actually treated them like respected human beings. Franky was just so thankful that Bridget had her job back- she loved it and was fucking great at it. She didn't think she could live with herself if Bridget had lost it permanently because of her.
Franky planned to surprise Bridget when she got home with what she had sneakily discovered was one of her favorite dishes- sautéed chicken and gnocchi in a red wine sauce. It had been a long time since Franky made pasta and sauce from scratch, but she was confident she could do it. All she needed were a few ingredients and a few hours, and she was good to go.
Six hours later, Franky was putting the finishing touches on the meal. It turned out pretty damn good, if she did say so herself. She just hoped that Bridget liked it, and didn’t mind the surprise. As she searched for silverware, her mind wandered to how the hell she ended up in this gorgeous kitchen in the first place. Five days on the outside and she was still constantly worried that she would wake up from this dream at any moment. She thought she didn’t deserve any of this, and certainly not Bridget. Bridget, her compass that led her out of Wentworth and onto a path she thought she might never get the chance to walk on. Her compass, that she ended up falling for. Hard. And by some miracle, she thought, Bridget had fallen for her too.
Six months ago if someone told her that she would be cooking dinner for her girlfriend just five days after being paroled, she would have laughed in their face. She gave up hope a long time ago of ever having a stable, loving relationship. The very thing that, if she was being honest with herself, she always dreamed of having. But this felt right.
Franky took a deep breath and wiped away the stray tear that somehow made its way down her cheek, and finished setting the table.
Not five minutes later the front door pushed open.
Franky heard the clunking sound of two high heels being kicked off and then “My god what is that? It smells amazing in here.”
“Hiya gorgeous! Come in and have a look,” Franky yelled back.
Bridget stopped walking once she could see what Franky was up to, and stood with her mouth agape.
“Oh my god, Franky this must have taken you all day.”
“It was your first day back, Gidge- thought you deserved a little more than takeaway, even if it’s from that fucking amazing Italian place down the block.”
Bridget stepped towards Franky and Franky could swear in that moment she saw Bridget’s eyes glisten over, but she didn’t have time to put anymore thought into it as she felt Bridget’s lips crash onto hers.
“Mm, hello to you too, Spunky. I’ll make you dinner every night if this is the hello I get,” Franky said with an open mouthed smile.
Bridget smirked and raised her eyebrows teasingly “mm, no objections here. In fact, I would suggest venturing into the bedroom to have some dessert first if I wasn’t so damn hungry.”
Franky raised her eyebrows back and clicked her tongue flirtatiously. “Well lucky for you, I think dessert will be just as tasty after dinner. Shall we eat?”
“Let's eat.”