Hi so this is my first time writing fanfiction...well writing anything really. I am new to this so please be nice :)

I fell in love with Skins and the Naomily Phenomenon and felt it obliged to try and write something of my own after Skins: Fire.

Although I respect the writers and actors, the story left me shattered. The only way I could pick up the pieces of my beloved characters was to start writing my own fanfic and reading other aspiring fanfic writers' work. I must admit I was skeptical about fanfiction before I tried it, but as they say once you go fanfic, you never go back! Well "they" don't really say that, in fact who is this "they"?

Anywho, I hope you enjoy reading this first chapter as much as I did writing it. Remember this is still a work in progress (I am currently up to Chapter 5 in my draft) so I hope to be able to provide regular updates when my schedule and work allows, not to mention when I am as happy as I can be prior to posting.

I have no real plan on when this story will end, so strap yourself in and enjoy the rollercoaster that is Naomily

xx

dietcokeandlime

Disclaimer: I do not own Skins or the characters, but this is my Naomily story xx

Chapter One

~ Naomi ~

Shit! Shit! Shit!

That is undoubtedly, the only word in the English language that accurately describes the morning I have had so far (hence the repetition).

Not only did I wake up late, burnt my toast to oblivion, spilt my fucking coffee all over the driveway whilst hurrying to my car, I just had to get stuck in bloody traffic on the way to work! I should have known the normally fifteen minute commute would turn into absolute bloody chaos on a rainy day like today, but then again I didn't really have a choice. I was late. It was raining. And I had to get to work as quickly as fucking possible. I'm not usually one for lateness. Mostly I arrive like exactly on time, never early; that's just not me. I'm more of a "I will always cut things fine" kinda girl, you know like living on the edge or whatever. But today, the sleazy big boss, well one of them, had finally returned from some month-long sabbatical after his wife ran off with the family dentist. That meant he would either be in a good mood from, you know recharging his batteries…time to think/recover/heal…or a particularly shitty one…returning to work with his business partner…the dentist's mother; I'm going out on a whim here and say the latter.

When I finally evaded the morning traffic and reached Cabot Circus, do you think I could find a ruddy park? Of course not! What do they say, things always get worse before they get better? Gee I hope they get better soon, the day has only just started. I spent at least eight minutes circling the block to trying to find somewhere to park my car that did not involve forking out a finger and a toe for a few measly hours until my lunch break, when I could park closer to Merchant Street.

At last, praise the lord! My car park prayers were finally answered. I pulled into the vacant park, killed the engine, grabbed the door handle and….shit, I forgot my umbrella! Again, could today get any worse? With my luck, of course it could. Now I had to walk in the rain, all the way from Wilson Street to the office in Merchant Street. I'm sure you could imagine what I looked like after a ten minute walk in the pouring rain. A drowned water rat perhaps? Or maybe a drowned water rat with a soaked blouse. By the time I neared my building, my top half was so wet that it was sticking to my chest and became practically see-through. Great, just what I needed to top off my already wonderful morning.

The closer I got to the office, the more apparent my situation came. Wet top, no spare, air conditioning and a sleazy boss equals, a very unappealing entrance to work. Note to self: Naomi, bring a spare cardigan to keep at work for emergencies on rainy days like today or heck remember your fucking umbrella, you twat!

Approaching the main entry of the building, I noticed something different about my place of work. When did this happen?

Right there in the, like foyer or whatever you call it, of my building, was a bloody coffee shop! It had been like Friday, what three days ago, where it was a busy travel kiosk or something, and today it was a fully renovated coffee shop? How can people get things done that fast? Well I suppose that's just how it goes in the city and maybe it's a sign my day is starting to look up? Glancing down at my watch, I thought well I guess I am already 20 minutes late for work anyway, with no coffee… Within three minutes, I was embracing a slightly steaming cup of coffee and sporting a goofy-looking smile on my face. The smile didn't last long, but it was a smile to say the least. I think I might come back for breakfast in the morning. Like actually before work Naomi. I crossed the foyer, delicious coffee in hand and began my ascent to Carter-Milton Legal via the left staircase at the rear of the building.

I climbed stairs of impending doom, practically inhaling the remaining deliciousness of my fresh brew. Once I reached the third floor landing, I discarded the evidence…okay fine…threw the empty coffee cup in my bag…party poopers. I could hardly walk in late with a takeaway coffee in my hand, could I? That would just fuel the furnace of my imminent demise. Pushing open the stairwell door, I proceeded down the corridor to the office. Reaching out for the handle, peering through the glass double doors of Carter-Milton Legal, I was greeted with the most confusing expression from none other than Harry Milton himself, my sabbatical-returning sleazy boss. Although I'm not entirely sure, I guess you could describe the look he gave me as angrily perverted? I know his wife may have just left him, but he was still the office sleaze nonetheless. Always lurking about, practically drooling over the women in the office, harassing them with his eyes and surly words. As I stepped through the Carter-Milton threshold, sopping tits and all, I immediately felt like I was being judged in a wet t-shirt completion with Milton's eyes salivating all over me.

After what felt like thirty seconds of him blatantly staring, and me holding back the coffee I had recently consumed, he finally averted his gaze from my obviously saturated chest and met my eyes with a scowl, "Miss Campbell, you are 25 minutes late, what do you have to say for yourself?"

I fought back an eye roll at his "lack of" staring when I answered, "So sorry Mr. Milton, I had car trouble on the way to work. This weather wasn't much help and I left my phone at home, so I wasn't able to call ahead and announce my tardiness. I do apologise, it won't happen again". I could see Robert, our mardy receptionist, suppress an unusual giggle at my line of defense; he very well knew I was lying through my teeth, but was wise to keep his mouth shut.

Seriously, every time I look at Robert, I have to resist the urge to go over to him, forcefully remove his stupid glasses and snap then in two! They are the weirdest, most irritating looking things I have ever seen someone willingly put on their face and the way they play tricks on my eyes with their pointless stripes and dots all over them, just fills me with rage. Look I'm sorry about the outburst but this morning was seriously doing my head in. All I wanted was to skive off home, devour a whole pizza and skull a bottle of the finest red I could find for under seven quid. But today was not going my way, well at least that's what I thought.

Anyway, I was pretty confident my little facade was convincing enough as Milton grumbled, "very well Miss Campbell, I trust it won't happen again. Please ensure you are not late to our meeting in the Conference Room at 10am. We have a new client joining us and would like to exhibit a united front. The details are in the email, so please prepare yourself prior." I politely nodded in acknowledgment, as he stormed off to his corner office and I made a beeline for my cubicle.

Once in the safety of my cubicle (more like my cell), I let out a sigh of relief that I had been let off easy this time. I learnt a long time ago with Milton to say as little as possible, and never let him know your true intentions, he will exploit them…in front of everyone. The fifty-something, obnoxious tyrant really couldn't care less about anyone other than himself; manipulative self-righteous wanker. And when he is not doing that, he is always eyeballing me (and every other woman in the office) like I am some kind of tasty marinated meat; it's degrading and utterly revolting. Although he has never tried to seduce me officially, I keep my private interactions with him to a minimum; during crowded office hours. The looks and snide remarks are certainly enough, in fact too much...bleugh…

For the sake of keeping my job, I constantly fight the internal battle of telling him what I really think; that he is a disgusting, obese, hairless man who preys on young women to satisfy his obvious lack of love life at home. Despite my obvious dislike for the man, and with constant reassurance from my best friend Effy, I have no choice but to go about my day as if he isn't there, unless I actually have to speak to him regarding some work-related crap. I really need this job and as much as I would like to throw my hands up in the air and have it out with him, I can't. For three years I have put up with him, what's a few more? One day I'll I figure out what the hell I am doing, and when that day arrives, oh boy is Milton going to hear about it. Every. Last. Word.

Fucking piece of bollocky wank shite…I thought silently abusing my computer. After a few excruciating minutes it was finally ready to accept that it needed to turn on...ppffttt technology these days…I opened my inbox and located the email Milton was referring to, briefly scanning through its contents. Classic Mushroom Management that, you know keeping everyone in the dark, covered by shit until they're ready. For the next twenty minutes I carefully read the contents of the email, like a good little legal assistant I am and then made my way to the bathroom to try and make myself presentable for the meeting. Looking at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I suppose I didn't look that bad…makeup didn't run and my pants were relatively dry and my hair was wet but not unsalvageable without a brush. My blouse however was a different story, as you could imagine. Sopping wet and sticking to my chest, with a special appearance from my suggestive black bra to saying hello look at me!

I walked over and locked the bathroom door, before removing my dripping top and attempted to dry it the best I could under the air dryer. When I was satisfied it would do, I pulled my top back on and arranged it so it was not sticking to my pale skin. My bra was still visible but at least my top was less see-through, so it would have to do until it dried out on its own. I ruffled my blonde shoulder-length hair under the air dryer for a minute and returned to the mirror to style it in the most manageable way I could, given the circumstances. I went with the I-walked-ten-minutes-in-the-rain-but-managed-to-make-myself-presentable-enough-for-a-meeting look. Returning to bathroom door, I glanced back to the mirror for one last check…for the record I am not vain, I just wanted to make sure I wasn't going to look like a tit walking into the meeting all scruffy and what not, in front of our new clients. I unlocked the door, collected my things from my desk and headed for the Conference Room; surprisingly early with a minute to spare…suck eggs Milton!

~ Emily ~

I am so glad I literally live a stone's throw from work. It means that I can sleep in every morning…oh how I love to sleep…and gradually go about my routine before I walk to work. I usually sit out on the balcony with a steaming mug of english breakfast, overlooking the green that is Castle Park, but unfortunately today it's raining quite heavily and the balcony is on the receiving end of the current downpour. This morning I am confined to the inside of my apartment, where I have taken comfort on my two-seater couch, gazing out the window, watching the rain fall as I sip from my mug. My apartment is quite small and is basically open plan, so the bedroom, lounge and kitchen is one room, with a bathroom off to the side. It's certainly big enough for me and sure beats the mad house of the Fitch family home, in Brislington.

Although I have worked on Merchant Street for the past two years, I have only been in this apartment for a little over six months. It backs right onto Cabot Circus, so it's close to everything I need and much more. Due to the proximity, there is no need for a car, so I walk. Or ride my moped when I need to go slightly beyond the Circus. Any further and I just take the bus. I had been itching to move out of home since I graduated from college, but due to Dad's skiing accident not long after, I had no choice but to stay at home with the family. My twin sister Katie and I, had helped out around the house and started working for the family business, Fitch Fitness; don't get fit, get Fitch. Dad owns a rather successful gym and when he broke his leg in three places there was a lot he just couldn't do, so being the good daughters we are, we put our life on hold and pitched in to keep things running as smooth as possible during his recovery.

I'm not much of a fitness fanatic like Katie, so I took care of the paperwork, while she ran the classes. Once Dad had recovered enough to return to work full-time, I stayed on to help out. It was income and it wasn't terrible. I managed to save quite a bit during the three years I worked at Fitch Fitness. Soon enough I needed a change of scenery and decided to finally break free of the family business life and gain some long awaited independence. Being overshadowed by my older twin most of my life, I had grown to just accept it, having never really did (or said) what I wanted to. It was just easier that way. When I decided to leave the family business, everyone was shocked that I actually did something for myself for once. I felt liberated somehow, and that was a good feeling.

I had a few job offers but decided to take a position with Bentley & Kent Corporate Training, until I figured out what I really wanted to do with my life (two years later and I am still undecided). The pay isn't too bad and it's nice being in the hustle and bustle of the city district. After about year at Bentley & Kent, I decided to look for an apartment close by. It took about six months to find something suitable. When I found this apartment block less than five minutes' walk from work, I though it must have been meant to be, as this apartment block is nearly always full of tenants, mainly students who attend the nearby college. This little apartment of mine was in paramount position and offered further independence that I so desperately needed.

I glanced down at my phone sitting on the arm of the couch…8:50AM. Time to head to work I guess. I picked up my phone, slipped it inside my bag, made sure I had my keys, jacket and umbrella before leaving the apartment. I live on the fifth floor of the building. The ground and first floors are commercially occupied, parking on the second and residential on floors three to seven. I made my way down the hall to the stairs. I try and avoid the lifts as much as I can. Not only are the stairs the healthier option, but the lifts in this building have a tendency to break down… a lot. I once got stuck in a lift for two hours with a really smelly man from the sixth floor, while maintenance completed their emergency repairs. I remember the moment the doors opened, I practically ran for my life, back to my apartment balcony for some fresh air before taking a well-deserved for a shower.

I bounded down the stairs, through the exit and out on to the cobbled footpath, opened my umbrella and scurried across Cutler's courtyard, only to find my usual route blocked by a movers van. Looks like one of the offices near my building was moving out. Instead of navigating through at least dozen people moving various pieces of office furniture, boxes and fixtures in the pouring rain, I turned around and headed back across Philadelphia Street to the corner and down Merchant Street towards the office. It's not really any further than the back entrance, but I get to avoid the morning foot traffic and you could say I'm just lazy. This morning wasn't too bad, I guess the rain had kept early shoppers away.

I glanced around at the nearby shops, cafes and business during the short walk along Merchant Street, only to be taken aback by an unfamiliar scene in the foyer of my office building. I know I don't use the front entrance often, but I am pretty sure there wasn't coffee shop here last week. Standing out the front, under the cover of my umbrella, the newly established coffee shop was seemed quite inviting. It's funny how quickly things change around here. Not that I am complaining or anything, the coffee shop looks pretty decent. It was full of early risers passing by and the smell of freshly ground coffee and hot baked goods was very tempting. I didn't have time this morning but thought to myself that I might swing by early tomorrow for a spot of breakfast before work.

Seeking refuge under the awning, I shook of the droplets of water from my umbrella, before heading inside to the stairs on the right. Once on the second floor, I walked down the corridor towards the back of the building and reached the glass front door which read Bentley & Kent Corporate Training in fancy gold lettering. As usual I was the first one to arrive, even if it was only 8:55am. I unlocked the front door, keyed in my code for the security system which then activated the lights and air conditioning system. I left my umbrella and jacket on the coat rack and walked over to the reception desk, where I checked the answering machine…no new messages.

My desk is off to the right of reception, so I can keep an eye out if Claudette is away from her desk or on a break. I'm glad I don't have to be like the "official" face of Bentley & Kent Corporate Training, but I still have to make an appearance when necessary. I may not be big cheese or close to around here, but at least I have more variety during the work day other than answering the phone and greeting clients as they enter. Just doing that would bore me to tears. It wasn't long after putting my bag away and taking a seat at my desk that Claudette and other staff filed into the office as I booted up my computer.

As I was signing onto the network, I looked up to see a familiar face greet me when he walked through reception.

"Good morning Miss Fitch, early bird as usual I see" announced Mr. Bentley, "hope you had a splendid weekend?"

"Morning sir. Yes I did thanks" I replied politely as I started to go through my emails. I'm not one for making friends in the office, so I keep chit chat to a minimum. I'm still courteous, but would rather keep my personal life private and just go about my day.

Being a Monday, there wasn't really anything new in my inbox. I flicked through the calendar and saw I had an appointment at 10am with Mr. Bentley and Ms. Kent upstairs at Carter-Milton Legal. I read through the details of the upcoming meeting and saw that they had taken us on as a new client and being that we were in the same building they were offering not only a discounted rate but a consultancy package for our firm. From what I heard, our previous legal firm a major privacy leak and therefore we ceased our contract and were forced to find a new firm at short notice. Luckily Carter-Milton Legal had their ears pricked and offered Bentley a package he couldn't refuse and well here we are.

Hopefully whomever we will be consulting with is more accommodating than the last firm's advisor. He was a rude prick and treated me like I was two and didn't speak English…this is fucking England for christ sake. I may only be a training assistant, but I still get involved in all facets of the business, so it's not like I don't know anything. One of my main tasks is ensuring company policy and the corresponding training frameworks are legally compliant and easily understood by all parties, so whomever the Carter-Milton consultant/s may be, I knew at the very least I would be working closely alongside them.

In the lead up to our meeting, I ran a few reports, photocopied some new training brochures and brewed a coffee for Bentley. Kent despised coffee. She always said the smell made her want to gag, so I was sure to steer clear of her when delivering Bentley his cup. Each to their own I suppose. Finally it was a few minutes before our meeting was due to start upstairs and the three of us made our way to the third floor and through the large glass doors of Carter-Milton Legal.

We were greeted in reception by a tall thin man with the strangest looking glasses I had ever seen, "Good Morning Mr. Bentley, Ms. Kent, and company". He was about 30 I'd say and one lens of his glasses was surrounded in bright blue with white stripes and the other was bright yellow with green dots. I couldn't help but stare at his very unusual taste in eyewear, until his eyes met mine. I immediately glanced down at my feet to avoid the awkwardness of his gaze. You could say I was a little shy. Not hard to be when Katie always had to be the outgoing outspoken one, always in the limelight she was. Although my confidence was getting better since moving out, I still had a long way to go, hence the glancing at my feet.

The receptionist introduced himself as Robert, and directed the three of us to the Conference Room down the hall, where we were seated around a large circular table with four other people. Olivia Carter, clearly one of the firm's partners, introduced herself and made the necessary introductions around the table. She was quite a muscly woman, around fifty with mousy brown hair and a stern look on her face. Next was Harry Milton, a big beefy looking man with thinning grey hair and glasses, of roughly similar age. He had a strange vibe about him, but I couldn't put my finger on it at the time. Then there was Jackson Dingle, a junior consultant; a middle aged guy with red hair and incredibly straight teeth. And finally…her. Tall and thin, with platinum blonde hair and striking blue eyes. She looked as though she had obviously got caught in the rain on the way to work, as her top appeared to be in the process of drying out.

The moment I realised I was looking directly at her chest, I immediately averted my gaze to the wall, admiring the detail of the company logo. It's not polite to stare Emily, especially at her tits. Give her a break, I'm sure every male in the room had noticed her sexy black bra under her practically see-through top and who am I to make things more embarrassing for…umm I must have missed her name during my not so obvious goggling. I think I blushed, gee I hope it wasn't obvious!

~ Naomi ~

Glad that meeting is over! I am pretty sure every guy in the room had stared at my tits at some point during the meeting. I spent the majority of the meeting engrossed at the lines on my notebook, pretending to write things down. Although I wasn't paying much attention in said meeting, but I certainly noticed the redhead from Bentley & Kent, Emily, checking me out during the introductions and at various times during the meeting. She had smiled at me at one point or another, with her awkward but very cute smile. Dimples on full display, as she took her own notes. Campbell what's wrong with you, you are straight remember? Ignoring my inner dialogue, I thought back to her entrance into the meeting room less than an hour ago…

There I was sitting around the circular conference table, waiting for our new clients to arrive. I always hate this part, meeting clients for the first time, face-to-face. I'd rather just speak to them on the phone and be done with it. It is rare that I am part of these meetings, it's usually when Jackson is out of the office, sick or on holidays, but as our new client was in the very same building on the floor below, Milton thought it was necessary for the face time. You know "just in case Jackson is away" or "we need more hands on deck" that sort of thing. I clearly wasn't in the mood after morning I had so far, but didn't really have a choice, it was my job to do as they asked; to "assist" when necessary.

I was staring at my notebook tapping my pen on the table when they arrived and didn't really even take much notice during the introductions. That was until I could feel eyes trained on me. More specifically, my chest. I looked up to see not a man goggling over me but a short petite girl, Emily, with undoubtedly the reddest hair I have ever seen. Not ginger red like Jackson. Like red hot flame red; fire engine red. Her hair was gorgeous and she was very pretty. Similar age to me, I think…

I think when she had realised she was openly staring, she immediately averted her gaze from my chest. I caught a glimpse of her chocolate brown eyes before she looked away and became very interested in the company logo on the wall. I thought I detected a slight blush from the redhead, but it must have been my imagination. It's not hard for your mind to play tricks on you when you are eager flee. The rest of the meeting went fairly quickly. I glanced up every now and then from my notebook to a reassuring smile from Emily. It looked as though she really didn't want to be here either, but it seemed more likely she was just shy in the new environment, rather than being in a shitty mood like me.

Soon enough it was time for lunch. I usually escape to the rooftop for a bite to eat and maybe a quick fag if it has been a shit day. Well obviously you know I had a shit morning, but it was still raining so I elected to al desco dine at cublical a la Naomi (eat at my desk). Today was turkey sandwich day, okay most days are turkey sandwich days, since my mum left me for Cyrprus. After my sandwich, I had a quick cybernation (sleep at my desk) before getting back to work.

I spent the rest of the afternoon going over the consultancy package for Bentley & Kent. You see as a legal assistant, I get the menial jobs such as reading, typing up reports, getting coffee, you know assisting…and making copies. And I HATE making copies! Standing at that stupid ancient machine that usually eats the paper every time you make more than three copies of something, drives me insane. I spend more time with my ass in the air, reaching over the back of the machine to dislodge the paper jam, than I do actually photocopying anything. I swear Milton switches off when I constantly complain about the state of the machine and he appears to come up with any excuse to not get a new one. He probably just likes staring at my ass, sleazy bastard. Soon enough the work day was over and when the clock clicked over to 5PM, I was out the door like a rat up a drainpipe.

I rushed back to my car, eager to get home. I was seriously over today, but by now, it didn't even bother me that it was still raining. I guess the only highlights of my day was that glorious coffee from the new coffee shop downstairs, the quick siesta at lunch and…Emily. Oh and Emily. Oh my god, did I just say that? I'm glad it was an internal thought and not a spoken one. I didn't realise just how taken aback I was by the redhead until she popped back into my thoughts on my way to my car.

I wasn't used to female attention or male attention for that matter, other than Milton…gross. It wasn't that I didn't date guys, but it hadn't really met anyone I really clicked with. It was just a shag here or a drunken kiss there. Wait a minute did I just say female attention? Surely not. Well she was checking out your tits during the meeting. No she couldn't possibly have. She was just feeling sorry for me about the fact that I was practically a runner up in a wet t-shirt completion. Yeah that's it! She obviously felt sorry for me. But the blush Naomi, what was that about? I was snapped out of my thoughts when I realised I had walked about 10 meters past my parked car. I casually turned around and walked back to where my car was actually parked, unlocked it, jumped in and took off home, trying to leave the thoughts of the redhead on the footpath…

~ Emily ~

When I left the office that afternoon, I took a detour to Sainsbury's on the way home and picked up a few groceries along with something for dinner. I selected some fresh ingredients that I could throw together in a stir-fry. It was an easy auto-pilot meal which didn't take a lot of effort, was relatively healthy and tasty. Before heading to the counter to pay for my groceries, I swung past the frozen desserts section and picked up a Sainsbury's Ice Cream Roll. What? I am allowed a treat every now and then, and besides the whole roll lasts me like two months, no biggie.

On the short walk home to my apartment, my thoughts resumed back to the meeting room and the platinum blonde with the stunning blue eyes. I still can't remember what her name was but I'm sure it's beautiful just like her. I don't usually gawk over people, especially girls. I just hadn't dated anyone really since college. I mean I had been on dates with guys and I suppose I had a drunken kiss or two with a girl at a party once, but I was hardly into girls was I? JJ and I had dated in our final year of college, but other than the fact that he was moving to Cambridge to study Astrophysics after graduation, we had decided we were better off friends than lovers, well at least I did. We still keep in touch as friends, but our lives are on a different path now so we don't have much in common anymore.

Once back at the apartment and unpacked the few groceries I had just purchased, I quickly cooked and single handedly devoured my stir-fry and two slices of the Sainsbury's Ice Cream Roll, in the space of like five minutes. Look, I was famished okay? I watched TV for a bit, but got fed up flicking through the channels to try and find something interesting to watch, so I turned off the TV and threw the remote on the coffee table. I decided to have a quick shower and head to bed, I was a bit tired after today.

Showered, dried and brushed (my teeth, obviously), I felt refreshed and relaxed. I hung up my towel and turned off the light, crossing the bed "room". No need for pajamas when you live alone, just one of the perks I guess. I switched on the lamp on the bedside table, and grabbed my copy of Wuthering Heights, before depositing myself in the comfort of my queen sized bed. I was only reading for about fifteen minutes when my mind drifted elsewhere…the blonde and…those eyes. I was confused as to why she had continued to infiltrate my thoughts and was starting to take prime real estate in my head. Maybe I was just lonely since I moved out of home. Looking for company in my world of newfound independence.

Katie and I were practically joined at the hip growing up, so it takes some getting used to being by myself. I mean we still see or talk to each other at least once during in the week and usually catch up for breakfast on a Sunday. I didn't have many friends around these days, in fact I didn't really have any friends since JJ moved away. I guess Katie is kind of my best friend, but most of the time just I enjoy my own company. There are times when it gets quite boring and sometimes lonely, but I manage. I guess when you always live in the shadow of someone else and finally break free, it takes a while to adjust. With that thought, I felt my eyes close and the last thing I remember was Wuthering Heights falling to the carpet…