As noted, this isn't really a H/N focussed story- it's a look at Nikki from someone on the outside.



TITLE: Through the Lens
AUTHOR: coolbyrne
RATING: PG
PAIRING: Implied N/H… I guess
WORD COUNT: 898
Summary: A look at Nikki from someone on the outside of things. This story follows the verdict at the end of season three.


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The news spread through the throng like a wildfire. Sorry about the unimaginative metaphor, but I’m a photographer, not a journalist, so there you have it.

“Manslaughter.”

“Time served.”

“She’s a free woman.”

Considering most of us in the newsprint business are a bunch of callous bastards, the news was spread not with surprise or even with any measure of admiration that justice had been done. No, for us, it was simply a way to inform the camera vultures to be ready for any sign of the woman, and for the writers to get a head start on perfecting just the right sensational headline.

I remember them when this case came round almost four years ago. “Lesbian Cop Killer!” the headlines screamed. (I always thought there was a grammatical error in there –was the cop a lesbian? –but what do I know? I just snap the photos.) Had he not been who he was by choice, and had she not been who she was by nature, I doubt we would have taken much notice, truth be told. Had it been a man killing a janitor who was raping the bloke’s girl? Hell, he would have been hailed a bloody hero. A dyke doing the same thing against a cop? She gets ten years.

I was in the courtroom four years ago, when the sentence came down. Couldn’t bring my camera in, mind; I was there strictly for my own self-interest. In that regard, I suppose I’m just as bad as the public who feast on this sort of thing. Insatiable curiosity about the darker elements of human nature. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I saw her all those years ago –you can never tell who the guilty ones are, I can tell you that much after twenty years in the business. So I suppose it’s a bit unhelpful to say she wasn’t what I expected. But I do know even as the judge took away the next ten years of her life, she never flinched. Dark head of hair, held up defiantly. Dark eyes never wavering. It was only when a tortured sob broke the silence of the courtroom did I see a small tremor of her bottom lip; a tiny crack in the façade. I suppose it was her girlfriend. I wonder what they were thinking at that moment.

“Jimmy, get your head out of your arse, she’s coming out of the courthouse!”

I don’t bother throwing a curt rebuttal to Elaine, my partner in this communication crime. Besides, she was the one who had the way with words, so chances are, she’d swat one back with something I’d need a dictionary to decipher. Instead, I simply jog behind her as we all manoeuvre into positions on the steps. A small group emerge from the building and I raise my camera.

I also thank my lucky stars, because if Nikki Wade had been one of the other four women who stopped in front of the barrage of microphones and recorders, I wouldn’t have gotten a single shot. She stood tall and dark, just as I had seen her years ago, and as it was then, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. As questions were thrown towards her, I fell into my familiar routine and started doing my job. She makes it easy –the camera loves her. I bet she had her pick in prison. What? I’m a bloke and she’s a good-looking woman. I can’t help letting my mind wander in that direction, yeah?

And yet she’s saying something now that makes me change my mind. She’s thanking someone –a woman –and not in that “thanks to my mates” kind of way. There’s real feeling there, a genuine debt being expressed. And a genuine regret. I wonder what the story is there. Then I shake my head. When did I become the journalist type? I click a few more snaps and she fields a few more questions before thanking the throng and quickly making her way to a nearby car. The media mass appeased, they scatter off to their offices in the hopes of making the last edition. Me? I can’t resist one more shot. Being the only one left behind, I get right up to the car before she gets in. I raise the camera to my face, when I’m stopped dead in my tracks by her deep stare.

Sheepishly, I shrug at being caught out. “Do you mind?”

There’s a twitch at the corner of her mouth and her eyes soften. “Yeah, all right. Go on then.”

I bring the camera up again and capture her in full frame. Glancing down into the digital viewer, I smile at the shot. Perfect. With sincerity this business rarely demands, I look up and say, “Thanks.”

She doesn’t respond with a word, only a look, before climbing into the vehicle. I wonder where she’s going, who’s waiting for her there. I look at that last shot again. So much in those eyes –relief, most definitely. But also a tiredness, a weariness, and a sadness. I wonder what those eyes have seen. I wonder what life has in store for her now.

“Jimmy!” Elaine yells out, startling me. “Call just came in –fire at Number 10! Don’t make me leave without you!”

I cap the lens as I run in her direction. And so it goes.


-end.

Really captured the reality well, and really explained how it would have felt to be watching Nikki - in her original case and the appeal. And you kept Nikki's emotions clearly read and told it how it was to all us viewers. Well done!

Fantastic story once again, coolbyrne. And you managed to create such a vivid character with your narrator, in such economic strokes. Its also nice to see Nikki from such a different (ie not first person, not Helen) perspective. Keep 'em coming!

Way Cooool.Difficult point of view...great angle. Thanks