They find each other seemingly by chance. Nancy is hired as a guard, someone to protect the Queens from the over-enthusiastic fans. Someone to look after the more delicate girls. She usually has to lead one or more girls, Queens, to the van, but something is different when Jane doesn’t emerge.
The girls, Queens, murmur and Nancy finds her jaw clenches as she moves into the theatre, the performance is long over and Jane should be finished and free. She walks into chaos. Jane is dressed, barely, her dress is pooled at her waist where she has sank into a self-hating position, crying into her hands when she can’t quite reach the zip. Even now she is reluctant to request help.
So Nancy dresses her, gentle, quiet, and reassuring, calling back decades old knowledge that allows her to take control, to maybe dominate the other woman a little, but she leads Jane out to the van with a gentle touch, stroking her hair when she is dressed, reassuring her. She rides with them that night, Jane quiet in her lap.
The two are quiet as Nancy takes Jane to bed, settling her there tenderly, planning to go home, stopped in her tracks at Jane’s soft sobs. She can’t leave her like this. So she stays. She stays and she cradles Jane in her arms, memories flooding through even as she holds Jane and comforts the woman.
She is slim, stick thin, and delicate, but she’s strong.
Then things change. Someone yells at her for once and not Jane, and Jane… Jane yells, snapping at people around them to leave Nancy alone, protecting the woman who was meant to look after them all. Despite herself Nancy is amused, flattered and stunned.
She follows Jane to the van, settling again with Jane. She can remember when Jane used to flinch, but Jane now is tender, her touch gentle at her cheek, the kiss light enough to be a promise of love.
They will find their way… together.