Kink Bingo: Class Fantasies
Sep. 27th, 2012 10:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
escapedsnake911by: escapedsnake911
fandoms: Call the Midwife
kinks: Class Fantasies
title: Watch the Nurse
pairing: Cynthia/Trixie
rating: PG-13
summary/preview: In all of the filth, she still looks like a star.
content notes: None
I don’t honestly think she could be a film star. I’ve seen her act, something other than her typical dramatics, and she is always aware that she’s being watched, that others are there to adore her. But I would watch her. I would pay my money and watch every picture she was in, no matter what it was about. I would watch film reels of her at glamorous events, wearing ball gowns and diamonds and on the arm of some equally famous beau.
I watch her when she is wrist deep in blood and has bags under her eyes from a set of twins at midnight. I watch her when she helps a woman limp over to the exam area, and five children trail behind her like ducklings. I watch her, and I help her, when she goes into the darkest, dirtiest places in this damned city and pulls life out of a woman. Or the occasional, tragic times when she cannot. Through it all, she looks like a star.
And she looks like a star when she looks at me, when she brushes my mousy brown hair behind my ear and laughs with an abandon that a midwife should not be able to have. She hands me a glass of gin, plants a quick kiss on my cheek, and even I get to feel a touch of glamour.
“Why are you here?” I ask her, when the gin and the music are smooth and Jenny is out for the night. “Star or not, you do not have to be here. You could do good work somewhere else, somewhere better.”
She smiles at me, all teeth and shining eyes.
“But there is work here. And I can be a star just for you.”
She leans over and lays a light kiss on my lips. A bit of fun, she would say. Not a perversion, of course. Not even a case of letting a man into the house, so how could the sisters get mad?
Neither of us will end up with a baby. We can have each other for the moment and still walk away at the end, out of here. The women we work with are not so blessed. She can still be the glamorous one.
*
Tonight was bad. Horrible, really. A woman started hemorrhaging during a difficult delivery. She was not helped by the starvation and dehydration that were setting in. The two of us, with our four hands trying to stem the bleeding, had not been enough. The mother and the child had slipped away from us, taken away from a world that was just too hard and cruel.
We got back to our rooms when the first bits of sunlight were starting to bleed through the streets. We had the clinic in the morning, but we were not going to find rest alone tonight.
Her door clicks shut and her hands are in my hair, her sweaty forehead pressed against my own.
“Promise me you will never be like that,” she whispers in the quiet of the morning light.
“Promise that you will never be in a situation like that. I could not bear to not be able to save you.”
I hold her tight and press my face into her shoulder. For all that she is the taller one, I try to clutch her to me completely.
“I promise.”
We lie down on the bed and cling to each other, dreaming of loftier places and grander settings than a thin bed in a convent in the middle of a death trap.
fandoms: Call the Midwife
kinks: Class Fantasies
title: Watch the Nurse
pairing: Cynthia/Trixie
rating: PG-13
summary/preview: In all of the filth, she still looks like a star.
content notes: None
I don’t honestly think she could be a film star. I’ve seen her act, something other than her typical dramatics, and she is always aware that she’s being watched, that others are there to adore her. But I would watch her. I would pay my money and watch every picture she was in, no matter what it was about. I would watch film reels of her at glamorous events, wearing ball gowns and diamonds and on the arm of some equally famous beau.
I watch her when she is wrist deep in blood and has bags under her eyes from a set of twins at midnight. I watch her when she helps a woman limp over to the exam area, and five children trail behind her like ducklings. I watch her, and I help her, when she goes into the darkest, dirtiest places in this damned city and pulls life out of a woman. Or the occasional, tragic times when she cannot. Through it all, she looks like a star.
And she looks like a star when she looks at me, when she brushes my mousy brown hair behind my ear and laughs with an abandon that a midwife should not be able to have. She hands me a glass of gin, plants a quick kiss on my cheek, and even I get to feel a touch of glamour.
“Why are you here?” I ask her, when the gin and the music are smooth and Jenny is out for the night. “Star or not, you do not have to be here. You could do good work somewhere else, somewhere better.”
She smiles at me, all teeth and shining eyes.
“But there is work here. And I can be a star just for you.”
She leans over and lays a light kiss on my lips. A bit of fun, she would say. Not a perversion, of course. Not even a case of letting a man into the house, so how could the sisters get mad?
Neither of us will end up with a baby. We can have each other for the moment and still walk away at the end, out of here. The women we work with are not so blessed. She can still be the glamorous one.
*
Tonight was bad. Horrible, really. A woman started hemorrhaging during a difficult delivery. She was not helped by the starvation and dehydration that were setting in. The two of us, with our four hands trying to stem the bleeding, had not been enough. The mother and the child had slipped away from us, taken away from a world that was just too hard and cruel.
We got back to our rooms when the first bits of sunlight were starting to bleed through the streets. We had the clinic in the morning, but we were not going to find rest alone tonight.
Her door clicks shut and her hands are in my hair, her sweaty forehead pressed against my own.
“Promise me you will never be like that,” she whispers in the quiet of the morning light.
“Promise that you will never be in a situation like that. I could not bear to not be able to save you.”
I hold her tight and press my face into her shoulder. For all that she is the taller one, I try to clutch her to me completely.
“I promise.”
We lie down on the bed and cling to each other, dreaming of loftier places and grander settings than a thin bed in a convent in the middle of a death trap.
