Heat Wave

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Orange is the New Black, apart from my absolute love for it.

Summary: When a heat wave plays havoc with the inmates and an impending storm threatens Litchfield, Red and Nicky must fight to keep each other safe .

Chapter one- Heat

On A summer's day, if you stared long enough, and blurred your eyes just enough, the tall sinewy fences faded into non-existence. If you continued to stare a little longer, the grass and skies merged together until there was nothing but open air before you, endless plains of lustrous green and blue and white for you to wonder.

You blink- and the fences snap back.

The air around you squeezes your lungs until you're just at the edge of breathlessness, until the definite definition of restriction reads clearly through your blood. You are once more confined.

That's why so many of the women stare off into the distance, momentarily stopping on their way to the hall or work duty, distracted by the distant memory of freedom for just a second.

"It's too fucking hot for this." Piper declared angrily, accentuating the T harshly as she let her head flop forward, looking away from the fence, and seemingly sinking into her seat. Her stale sandwich left abandoned on the brown paper bag, Nicky watched as a lone fly made several circles around them before landing silently on top of the unappealing lunch.

"There's a fly on your bread." She muttered hoarsely, lazily bringing her eyes up to look at Chapman who met her gaze with a look of complete inexorable distain.

"We can't work under these conditions; we're going to get heat stroke. And we've got no sunscreen! I'm telling Luschek the pipes will have to wait." Chapman babbled erratically, swiping continuously at the persistent fly.

"They're not pipes, Chapman." Nicky corrected dully, cutting Piper off in a mid rant about humane treatment of incarcerated inmates and how detrimental working through long periods of sun exposure is to your skin.

"Whatever they are, I don't care. We're cooking out here Nick." Piper stated, scrunching her nose up at Nicky.

Nicky quirked her eyebrow languidly before turning her attention back to the fly. She felt like she was dying, her thick head of hair harbouring the most of the sun's rays. She had tied it up to stop it sticking to her neck, but all that did was expose her neck to the horrendous heat as well. If she closed her eyes she could almost hear the infinitesimal sound of her own skin sizzling away.

"Are you alright Nicky?" Piper asked seemingly seeing Nicky properly for the first time, now her attention was not aimed solely on her freedom game with the fence. Nicky groaned into her shoulder before burying her head further beneath her arms in search of shelter from the rays burning slowly into her skull. Piper took that as a sign to stop talking; turning her full attention back to the persistent fly fast placing itself on Piper's hit list.

The ladies of Litchfield had had to suffer through almost two unbroken weeks of roaring temperatures. The whole county had suffered water shortages, a wave of old people and pregnant women falling ill from sunstroke, several small surrounding forest fires had blazed ruthlessly and still the sun continued to shine. Still the temperatures crept higher. And whilst the Governess, the smug stingy bitch, got to cool off in her office with her own air conditioning and a reasonable water supply, the inmates of Litchfield had to carry on as though it was just another ordinary day. They were still being worked and run ragged; except there was no regular supply of water to keep them properly hydrated, no relief during the stifling night hours locked up. It was inhumane.

But then again, that was nothing of surprise in their world. Piper was near to snapping. She couldn't take it much longer. And by the looks of her dear friend opposite her, neither could she.

Nicky still had her arms slung over her head, thick ringlets sticking out wildly. She needed that air conditioning far more than her, Piper thought, briefly looking in the direction of the Governess walking this way, under a fucking parasol of all things!

From his position slouched against the brick wall in the small sliver of shade, Luschek suddenly caught eye of the 'boss' approaching. With a sympathetic groan he half heartedly ordered the two back to work.

"Ladies, work, back to it, please." Luschek drawled his shirt was inappropriately low buttoned. He looked like a mutation between human and jellyfish- his skin completely coated in a thin layer of sweat, giving him a shiny, slippery wet look. As if to accentuate the likeness, he languidly brought his 'Starbucks' up to his lips, took a healthy slug, and burped in satisfaction, his small rounded tummy vibrating like the top of a jellyfish bobbing in the current.

Both girls looked at each other with the same knowing expression painting their pale features, obviously having had the same gross comparison cross their mind.

"Luschek! Why aren't those two working? Why aren't you working? Where are the rest of the women?" Figueroa demanded in quick succession, making Luschek cringe at the annoying pitch of her questions.

"Governess Figueroa..." He replied in a flat tone "As I am sure you're aware, it's been a bit hot lately. The women are dehydrated. They're over heated. They're dropping like flies and now I only have a grand number of two to help me get this junk yard of a prison sorted for the annual safety review coming in three days that you failed to mention to me until now. They can't work, not unless you want to kill 'em in the process. We can't just keep pushing them, and I can't keep it up either!" Luschek barked in response to the menial questions aim at him. Admittedly by the end of his rant, Luschek was aware how irate he had become but he didn't rightly care at that moment.

Instead, he tugged angrily at his collar, taking another chug of his coffee, only to be disappointed when the cup revealed itself to be empty. Figueroa watched the whole scene with waning attention.

"I don't give a shit; we've all got problems, just get it sorted." She demanded flatly, looking on with barely contained disinterest at Piper and Nicky as she waltzed back to the cool confines of her office.

"Bitch." Luschek snapped, throwing the paper coffee cup aside.

Piper smiled wanly as Luschek grabbed the ladder and silently beckoned them to follow. Side eyeing Nicky, who had sat up during the little kafuffle, Piper noted the complete washout of colour on the younger girl's face. She silently pushed ahead of her and picked up the big awkward bundle of cheaply bartered copper strips, leaving Nicky with just the tools to carry. She caught the smile that briefly lit up Nicky's face.

There was no way they would get the stupid lightning rods on before the safety review. Piper pondered for the rest of the relentless day on how Figueroa would fix the inspection; just as she had rigged all other duties in the shithole Piper called home. And what made the whole thing worse was that whenever the bitch Governess slacked on her side, Nicky or herself seemed to pay the price. She can still recall the scent of frazzled hair after Nicky got electrocuted fixing a light fixing last week.

Turning her attention back to the fence briefly, Piper watched in resignation as an inmate collapsed waiting in line for the cafeteria.

"Red's running late today." Piper remarked casually to no one in particular, though the way Nicky looked longingly at the block, she knew the younger girl had heard and was now worrying about her mother.

"Come on. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you can go see her."

Chapter two done and ready to go, hope you enjoyed this one. Reviews would be much loved. MummyRussia