So I guess I've been a little neglectful of Seth and Siobhan. I hope to rectify this with this little two-shot, but I apologise in advance - it's not going to be an easy ride by any stretch. You didn't think it would all just run smoothly for Sethan did you?

As always, thank you all the love you always give me. And as always, super big Roman hugs to LetItReign who once again put up with another whiney email from me when I was unsure of this story's plot. And who also gave me the spark I needed for the next Dean/Becca story. Oh I'm layering on the angst thick and fast people! #sorrynotsorry

Warning: Smut

Disclaimer 1: I only own Siobhan

Disclaimer 2: Lyrics taken from Long & Lost by Florence & The Machine, used without permission

Enjoy x

Lost in the fog, these hollow hills
Blood running hot, night chills
Without your love I'll be
So long and lost, are you missing me?

Siobhan's POV

My eyes flicker from the laptop balanced on the edge of the coffee table and the pile of documents in my lap. My fingers flip through the sheafs of paper as I chew my bottom lip.

"Ah..." I murmur to myself as I find what I'm looking for. Placing the other documents next to me, I pick up my laptop and settle back against the cushions. I read through my edits on the paper and make my way through the page onscreen, making my corrections as I go.

The deadline on this proposal is less than forty-eight hours away and for once I just might make it with time to spare. The final draft is hours away from completion and a thrilling sense of achievement whips through me as I cross the t's and dot the i's.

Not for the first time, I've decided to haul ass up to Seth's for the week. Over the last few months, it's become a regular occurrence. Our schedules are synced to perfection, my time here planned according to when he'll be home. Given that he's away for five days out of seven, his apartment is the perfect silent companion, clean and spacious and lacking in clutter and distraction. Well, until he rolls in early Wednesday morning and crawls into bed with me.

It's the perfect set up. I was pleasantly surprised at how easy, how smooth the transition felt with both work and my personal life. Handing Seth a copy of my employment contract was one of the most nerve-wracking and yet rewarding moments of my life. My only intention was to let him know how serious I was about us. I never dreamt that he would take it a step further and offer up his home, his personal space, for me to use when I felt like it. Grateful doesn't even begin to cover it. Not just because of the peace and quiet to complete my work, but the flexibility it offers us.

At first, I planned my weeks accordingly. I followed his working pattern, making my off days the same as his where possible. I'd file away my work, disconnect my laptop and cellphone every Tuesday night. I'd unwind from the week, force myself not to pick at loose strands of work and go to bed, eager to feel his arms around me the next morning. Days spent together would be easy and lazy. Long lie-ins would turn heated over time, his hands slowly stripping away my shorts and tank top as we reacquainted ourselves in more ways than one. Breakfast would drag blissfully into lunch, followed by afternoons on the couch or heading back to bed like giddy love-struck teenagers. There'd be a few hours apart in the evening when Seth would head down to the academy to workout and help with a training session and I would resist logging onto my laptop by taking long, hot baths. Those two days would crawl and fly by in equal measure. Friday would roll around and I'd be logged on the second he walked out the door.

And then my workload slowly but surely started to increase. I picked up another freelance contract with a larger organisation, and along with a number of smaller projects that needed completing with my old employer, it was increasingly difficult to switch off. My days started early and finished late. I was unable to clear away on a Tuesday night and prepare to spend time with Seth. I would work till the early hours and spend the next day exhausted, yet unable to focus on anything other than the merry-go-round of work-related thoughts. The hours that Seth spent in the gym or at the academy became perfect excuses for me to log back on, to finish one bit of work before it was too late.

Deadlines switched from Tuesdays, to Wednesdays, to Thursdays. My points of contacts were understandably unavailable at the weekends, yet demanded updates on my supposed off-days. Off-days themselves started to become few and far between. My phone would constantly buzz at brunch with Seth. It would ring just as we started to watch the next episode of a TV show. It would ping insistently as we kissed underneath the bedsheets.

The last few weeks have been particularly bad, I have to admit. Last week I stayed put in my own apartment, working solidly for days on end. Calls and texts with Seth were brief or non-existent. Plans to spend time with him were shelved for this week instead, the week where I was supposed to have a break. But that hasn't happened. One deadline complete, another suddenly got brought up a week early. So here I am, bright and early on a Wednesday morning, having left Seth asleep in bed an hour ago.

I tick off my amendments as I work my way through the document. An email pings up and I frown at the distraction. But the bright exclamation mark catches my eye and I'm dragged away from the task in hand. Another question to answer, another request to add to the to-do list.

"Hey," a gruff voice rumbles behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Seth in the bedroom doorway, shorts hanging off his hips as he rubs sleep from his eyes. He gives me a warm smile and something inside me stirs. God, how I would love to crawl back into bed with him right now. "What time is it?"

"Eight," I reply turning back to my laptop. Another email pings through.

"Coffee?"

I raise my empty mug and murmur my thanks as he takes it from my grasp. His breath tickles my ear as he leans down and brushes his lips against my temple. I barely break a stride in my furious typing.

The kettle boils in the background as I desperately try to shift back to the task in hand. But the New York office is just starting to swing into action, daily updates, breakfast meeting minutes, replies to emails from last night are all piling into my inbox without any hint of letting up. And I know that the second I avoid them, the shit will start to hit the fan. I make my way through them steadily as Seth returns with a full mug for me.

I can feel him hovering for a second and then he moves away, silent. The bed creaks behind me and I almost breathe a sigh of relief.

The emails settle down after an hour, my replies pacifying the senders. I flick back to the document again. I'm barely a quarter of the way through. The edits and adjustments made took days to even agree. Revision after revision, endless comments made, arguments fought and resolved. I frown, squinting at my scrawled notes in the margins next to a particularly lengthy section.

The shower kicks into action behind me, along with a low hum from the bathroom radio. Seth's voice accompanies it every so often. Usually the sound makes me smile, laugh even. Today couldn't more opposite. My jaw clenches involuntarily as I struggle to make sense of my comments. I search through my emails, my frustration mounting by the second.

"So did you want to grab breakfast?" Seth calls out from the bedroom.

"I can't. I've got to finish this."

"Lunch then?"

"I don't know," I reply, still scrolling. "Fuck!"

A hand slides over my shoulder, squeezing. "Sweetheart, you've been working solidly for the past five days. Maybe you should take a break."

"I can't. I've got to finish this today."

"I thought the deadline was Friday?" Seth's hand slides down my back as I hunch forward.

"It is."

"So what's the problem?"

"I just want to finish it now." I finally find the email I'm looking for, pulling it up full screen and scanning through for the details. Seth's hand runs over my other shoulder, his thumb slowly working its way down the nape of my neck.

"You were asleep with your laptop on the the bed when I'm came in this morning. You need a break."

"Seth..."

"A half hour, that's all." His voice is low, tempting.

"I can't. I'm already behind."

"You just-"

"Fuck, Seth! I said I can't!"

Silence. I daren't look away from the screen. The hand on my shoulder lifts abruptly, leaving me cold.

"Siobhan, all I'm asking is to spend a bit of time with you." Seth's voice is still low, but there's an edge of frustration peeking through.

"I know." I fight hard to keep my own frustration at bay, but I fail miserably. My jaw is clenched, teeth gritted as I stare defiantly at the screen.

"So, take a break."

"I can't. What part of that don't you get?" I snap back.

"I haven't seen you in two weeks. Forgive me wanting to spend some time with you."

"And I've got work that I need to do. Forgive me for actually wanting to get paid." I tear my eyes away from the laptop and finally look up at him. A hard look has graced his face, his jaw defiant as he stares me down.

"I get that you've got a deadline, but you need to eat." Seth speaks slowly, carefully. "C'mon," he softens slightly. "I'm just looking out for you, sweetheart."

But his words do little to calm my annoyance.

"I already ate."

"Bullshit."

"Seth, I really can't do this now. I've got-"

"No."

"No?" I stare at him in disbelief. "I've got a fucking deadline, Seth. What part of that is so difficult for you to grasp? I don't have time for this."

"You don't have time for anything these days."

My eyes narrow. "It's my job. My career. Or is that not important to you?"

"Of course it's important. That's not what I'm saying."

"Really? Because to me, it sounds like that's exactly what you're saying. You're saying that my job isn't worth spending time on. That my job is so irrelevant that I can just drop everything. All for you. Because that's what's important isn't it? Not me. You. And only you."

He stares at me, unflinching. But I can't stop. My anger at the task before me, my frustration at his arrogance, the desperate, floundering sensation that's creeping through me as my laptop pings with another email and another...

"Sure, let me just phone my boss and tell him that I'm really sorry, I can't answer emails today or finish this proposal for him because my boyfriend is a arrogant son of a bitch who doesn't realise that his girlfriend has priorities and responsibilities beyond sucking his dick."

"Siobhan..."

"No, don't you worry, I'll make that call and then I'll just sit here and open my mouth and my legs so you can get your rocks off before you go back on the road."

"For fuck's sake!" Seth's voice echoes around the apartment, his fist slamming down on the back of the couch, making me jump. "All I asked is if you wanted breakfast. Christ!"

"And I told you, I don't have time."

"Like you didn't have time last week or the week before. We've barely spoken two words to each other in the last few days. Is it such a fucking crime to want to spend some time with you? I get that you're busy, I really do-"

"No, you don't. If you did, we wouldn't be having this discussion right now."

"Discussion? You call this a discussion? All I asked is if you wanted breakfast and you fucking fly off the handle at me." He shakes his head, his lips pressed together as he closes his eyes and breathes deeply through his nose. "Look, I'll leave you to it, okay? I'll go and get some food in, cook you lunch for later yeah?"

His fingers brush across my shoulders once again, but I move away, turning back to the screen.

"Hey," he murmurs, his breath fanning across my skin as he lowers his head to mine. He nuzzles against me, but I move away, my mind already elsewhere, reaching for my notepad. "Jesus, I can't even kiss you now?"

"What?" I mutter, distracted.

"This is what I'm fucking talking about. This is this crap you've been pulling for the last few weeks with me. You don't talk to me, you don't let me near you, what the fuck do you want me to do, Siobhan?"

The laptop slams on the coffee table, paper spilling onto the floor as I reel around and rise, my anger flaring once again.

"I want you to leave me alone!"

"I leave you alone for fucking days! You used to say you look forward to seeing me, now I just feel like I'm an inconvenience. If you don't want to see me, don't set up camp in my fucking apartment."

"Oh, so I can only be here if it means I'm at your beck and call for a few days once a week? I mean I know I joked about that at the start, I didn't realise that you were serious."

"Grow up, Siobhan. You know that's not what I mean."

"No, Seth, that's exactly what you mean. You knew exactly what all this meant. I explained it all you to at the start. You're the one who needs to grow up and realise you can't have your way all the time. Life just ain't that fucking sweet."

"Likewise, Siobhan. You wanted this too, remember. You wanted to go freelance because you were so damn serious about us. If you were that serious about us, you'd make all this shit work."

Our voices are harsh, loud. Poison flies through the air as we hurl words back and forth, tit for tat and back again.

"Right, because this is all my damn fault. Takes two to fucking tango, Seth. Maybe if you didn't have your head stuck so far up your own ass, you'd realise that I am working like crazy to make this work. But shit happens. Work happens."

"Maybe if you took a break, you wouldn't be so fucking wound up."

"Maybe if you left me alone, I could get some work done and then I wouldn't be so damn wound up!" My fingers dig into my palms as I squeeze my hands into fists. I want to shake him, I want him to realise how fucking stupid this all is, what a waste of time this all is.

"Maybe this was a mistake."

His words send me reeling. A mistake? What's a mistake?

"A mistake?" Gone is the frustration in my voice, replaced by fear, worry.

"Have it your way, Siobhan. Have it your damn way." Seth's mouth is twisted into a thin line as he rounds the couch.

"A mistake?" I repeat.

"I'll leave, I'll fucking leave you alone. That's what you want isn't it?"

"It..." But he's already gone, bag swiped from the floor, keys in hand, scowl in place as the door slams behind him.

Fuck.

Is it too late to come on home?
Are all those bridges now old stone?
Is it too late to come on home?
Can the city forgive? I hear its sad song

I don't have time to wallow. I have shit to do. I push the fear to the back of my mind, ignore the nagging worry that pokes at my conscience. I buckle down, closing my inbox to push all my thoughts onto the document before me.

An hour passes and then another. And Seth doesn't return. I hammer on through, making my way through the pages of paper, three left, two left, one... And I'm done. A sense of achievement floods through me as I hit save, make a copy, hit save again, ready to review one final time before Friday. I shuffle paper around the coffee table, arranging it all into neat piles before logging back onto my email one last time.

My stomach groans, desperate for food, but I can't. A lump builds in my throat as I type out a hasty note, making assurances that the proposal will be with the client on Friday as promised and that I need to take some time to myself this afternoon and tomorrow morning. I click through other emails whilst I wait for the reply and immediately log off when I get what I want.

I sink back on the couch, relief washing over me for a split second before I remember.

"Maybe this was a mistake."

What was a mistake? This? Us? Me? My mind races through the endless possibilities, my gut twisting as a cold sweat starts to take over. I didn't mean to snap at him. He just caught me at the wrong time. I should have taken a breath. I should have taken his advice, for Christ's sake. I needed to take a step back. All this, it all could have waited. But no. I was too headstrong, too determined to prove a point to my new boss and myself that I had all of this under control.

God, how could I be so stupid?

I've been bad, so fucking bad, at all of this. It was all too easy to start with, I should have known it was too good to be true. I told him I would give it a shot, let him convince me that this would work. And I wanted it to work, I really did. Even through all the shit at the beginning, I wanted this to work. I don't know what happened along the way. Did I just give up?

I squeeze my eyes shut and Seth's sour expression appears before me.

A mistake.

Is that really what he thinks of me? Maybe I am. He said it, so it must be a possibility. This isn't what he signed up for. Hell, it's not what I signed up for either. Who wants to come home to find their girlfriend so caught up with her own life, she doesn't even have time for a quick kiss? Fuck. I should have just kissed him back. Then all of this wouldn't have happened. Or would it? I mean, maybe if it didn't happen today, it would have happened some other time instead. Surely this is all one long slippery slope until...

Shit.

A sob rips through me. What if this is it? What if there isn't a way back from this? We barely see each other as it is, the time together is precious. For the last few weeks, that time has slipped away and we've got very little to show for it. All because of me. All because of my stupid pre-occupation with something that, in the grand scheme of things, means very little. Work to live, not live to work... That has always been my motto and I fucked myself over. I let myself get caught up, I let myself get drawn in when it wasn't necessary. I let it cloud my every judgement and look where that's got me.

Alone.

That's what I am. Alone. Because Seth isn't coming back. Not now, not ever. I well and truly fucked this up. There's only so long I can expect him to stick around after this. The sacrifices that he's made throughout his life, pale in comparison to the choices I've made recently. He's put his career first every damn time, but still, still he manges to make time for me. And I can't even do the same for him. Who the fuck wants to date someone like that? Because I sure as hell wouldn't want to date me. Not after the last few weeks. And especially not after the stunt I've just pulled.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing. If I could just take everything back. Everything. If I had just accepted his sweet gesture, agreed to a half hour break... If I had just stayed put in my own fucking apartment. But no, I want it all. I want everything life has to offer and now that I've got that... Well, had that.

I should've gone after him, apologised, asked him to forgive me. I should've pulled him against me, kissed him, held him, told him how sorry I am, how stupid I've been. But the stubborn bitch inside me thought it would be best to stay here and finish what I'd started. I continued to put work before him.

I pick up my phone and stare at the empty home screen. I don't know what I'm expecting. It's not his fight to apologise for. That's all on me. And I know that. I just don't know if I can face him. That look on his face was something I'd never seen before. Mixed in with the anger and frustration... Disappointment. I close my eyes again, tears starting to streak my cheeks. Disappointment in me. That's far worse than the anger and everything else. I never wanted to make him see me like that. It was never my intention to make him feel like that, like I didn't care, like I don't love him as much as I do.

In almost eighteen months, I've lived and breathed for him. He's become more than a friend, more than a boyfriend. My ache when he's not with me. I cling to him when he is, never wanting to let go. And I still ache, I still cling. I want him more than I ever have before and the thought that all that hangs in the balance thanks to me and my big mouth?

I brush the tears from my face and stand, my whole body trembling. I sniff loudly as I make up my mind.

All those times he's proved to me that he's worth it. I guess it's my turn to do the same for him.