Jail house rock

Chapter 1: unspoken bonds
Faith and all the other btvs charries are not mine, but Alexa, and all the charries in her back story are so..there are your disclaimers enjoy!!! and review.


The steady padding of the three pairs of boots thumped lightly against the concrete floor of the long dark prison corridors. Brown eyes slid into focus, opening quickly from the rest that they had been roused from. She hadn’t been asleep. There had not been sleep in this cell for days now. Only rest and thoughts about her. But she wouldn’t think about that now.
The woman laid on her back with her hands clasped underneath her head. Her prison issued shoes crossed at the ankle as she reclined back in the bottom bunk of her cell.
She guessed that this was one of the perks of being in a cell alone. There was no one there to fight with over the bunks. In fact, there was no one there to fight with period. Sure some of the larger women took her size as a sign of weakness in the beginning, but that was then and this is now. All the “Mack truck” looking ladies had caught the hint when the brunet had pushed a face-shaped dent into a metal lunch tray about a year back. The woman chuckled when she entertained the thought of her being the reason that they reverted to plastic trays and Styrofoam plates.
Thoughts were all she had now. Since then she’d been thrown in this cell by herself she’d had little to no human contact besides “feeding time”. Even then no one would sit with her, besides the newbies who still thought they were tough simply because they hadn’t been broken yet. She had watched so many girls be picked off from her table. One-by-one. She would watch as the “thuggish” and “hellcatty” girls went from bragging about their lives of the outside to skipping a meal to sob alone in their cells. Prison changed a person. Whether it reformed you, or made you a raging lesbian, or maybe even both, the “big house” changed a person.
Which was the whole reason why she hadn’t broken out of here by now, if not just to release some of the tension that her heightened muscles suffered from after not being used in the least for what seemed like forever. Though she was sure that knocking an entire fleet of prison guards on their butts, dodging bullets and running from hunting dogs would be a rush to remember, she had to remember why she was here. Atonement was a hard thing to grasp hold of, especially when you were stealing a guard’s rifle from his hands and breaking his nose with it. So she would serve her time, but whether or not she lost her natural mind while she did it was left to be argued.
Being half way loopy or not she was certain she heard footsteps coming down the hall. She didn’t move from her position on the bed until the sounds of boots stopped infront of her cell. There was silence for longer than she would have liked.
“Faith.” The first guard beckoned.
She recognized his voice and almost allowed a smirk. “Love and hope.” The brunet answered as usual, but never moved from her spot on her bunk.
“We’ve got a surprise for you.”
Faith allowed a full on smirk then, “Oh a surprise eh?” she rolled over onto her side and added a slight British accent to her tone of sarcasm. “Do I ge’ a pony father?”
Faith’s brown gaze fell on the two guards but slid to the woman between them. Two large guards stood on either side of her, guns drawn in one hand and the other arm hooked into hers. The chains around her wrists and ankles had been the sort of changling sound Faith had heard along with the steps.
Thick leather boots, that rivaled the cool factor of the one’s Faith had left behind were on her feet and the ill-fitting prison issued pants were tucked into the army style boots. The hem of the white tank top hung over the top of her pants, showing off the black tribal tattoo that swirled around her belly button and traced the indentions at the top of her hips. The long unbuttoned collared long sleeved shirt displayed her prison number over her right breast. Faith couldn’t quite make out the digits for the folds and creases of the garment but she could read a few 2s and an eight. Her hair came down in loose waves. Thick black tresses brushed her shoulders and hung down to about the middle of her back. Her face was carefully set in a stoic expression. For a second Faith wondered if she knew how very Greek she looked. Her eyes were the oddest shade of brown, so near to black that it was scary. There was no distinction between her pupils or her irises. Her cheekbones were high and her jaw line strong. The powder blue, pastel color of her prison issued clothes gave her golden brown skin tone a pale tint. Even though it wasn’t her color she still looked good in it. Faith guess red was more her hue, but she was still…hot. She supposed that word fit well.
“You know what you two do is none of my business, just as long as you two keep in down after lights out.” The second guard answered back just as snidely as he opened the cell door with the key on his belt. Faith watched the other girl’s brown eyes chart his movements. Faith held her breath for an attack but none came. She couldn’t help but think about a caged animal while she watched the other woman be led into the cell.
Faith spoke to the guards but kept her eyes on the new girl’s face as she did so. The woman kept her eyes on the floor, but not from timid ness. Faith could tell that the word “timid” had nothing to do with her.
“What’s this about?” the rouge slayer asked. “Didn’t the Warden put me one to a cell because of the “lunch tray incident?”
“We think we’ve found your match here Faith.”
Black eyes finally met Faith’s brown ones and the younger woman smirked with one risen brow. Faith’s heart skipped beats for reasons unknown. There was something about this girl. An odd bond stretched between them from that moment on, a bond she’d held with only one other person in her whole life. That certain blonde will remain nameless.