This is a little story which came to my mind when I saw a girl I remember from school, and boy has she changed over the years. Give it a try and tell me what you think. Oh, right, I've got nothing against religious people, god, Jesus or anything. This is just a story, not meant to offend anyone for their believes.

Pairing: Emily/Naomi

R: M

Disclaimer: Skins' not mine, not making any money with it.

Three reviews for an update in a week, more and I'll be three? You obviously are not interested in the story. :) so get tipping guys.

Like a midnight sun you're the only one who can set me free
You will set me free

I would like to tell you a bit about my life and how I got to this point where I seem to have stopped moving at all.

I guess it started the day I was born, but lets move past the walking, talking, crying, and falling stuff to the interesting bits I myself like to think about. My mother died when I was about four years old, not that I like to think about that, obviously, but that made me grow up with only my dad, my very strict, Christian dad. He was very churchly, old fashioned lets say. Very difficult to live with.

As a child I didn't mind wearing ecofriendly clothes, being vegetarian, or listening to classic music. He made me believe the telly was Satan's transmitter, money his way of catching our souls and MTV the way to lose them forever. Of course I've gotten shit from other kids at school for, practically, everything I said, did, or wore but that was fine, Jesus loved me and I sure as hell didn't need anything else. As a child? Screw Nintendo, PlayStation, bicycles, roller-skates, MTV, amusements parks and Nickelodeon. Teenager? Who needs Coke, McDonald's, or Miss Sixty jeans which made my arse look simply amazing? Nike's, Adidas, and Ipods were not important for my poor batted mind, Jesus was with me and all that, didn't need anything else.

I thought I'd never need anything else in my life as long as I had Jesus and later on, my religious, good husband. Boy was I wrong. A gorgeous, blonde, trouble making girl was in the cards for me, making me need her more that air.

When I started, lets say, developing, dad made a point of never looking at me directly again, oh and he made me wear long undergarments. Not that bad, right? In summer, in daylight, in school? No, not that bad. I don't want to start with the problem of different kinds of itching hair sprouting everywhere and me not being able to do anything about it.

My period came very early for a girl, for every girl really, I was nine years old and almost gave my dad a heart attack. He was convinced I've had nasty thoughts and Jesus was punishing me, took him two days until a neighbour, the very nice Mrs. Campbell made him bring me to the gynaecologist. Of course he wouldn't believe when the man said that it was unusual but not unheard of, having a nine year old get the period, he even took me to the priest and made me confess. Problem was, I hadn't done anything to confess for, been a pure soul, as pure as they are when born, fucking boring shit I was.

I think I was thirteen when my pure soul darkened for the first time, leaving me a confused mess afterwards, praying like a lunatic to a god who, as my father says, hates my existence. Of course I haven't had an idea back then and hoped for the best. Jesus loves all his children, right?

It was a hot summer day, mid august, after summer school when it had happened.

Seven years ago

I'm walking home from school, the sweat is covering every part of my covered skin under these layers of clothing I'm wearing. Everyone is dressed in skirts, vests, even bikinis, that's how hot it is but showing that much skin is a sin I gladly dodge.

Never taking the bus, I always walk the forty minutes to my house twice a day and never something unusual happens. Every day I get laughed at by the same kids sitting on the bench by the park, by the skaters in front of the park, by the drug addicts on the bridge and at the very last by my neighbours relaxing, sunbathing on their front steps. But today, today is different because the nice Mrs. Campbell is waving at me from afar, at least I think she means me, no one else is on the pavement at the moment.

I don't want to keep her waiting so I speed up my steps, smiling shyly when I reach her. "Hello dear, aren't you hot? Come on in, I want you to meet someone and you can get a nice, cold soda while we're at it. Come on." She ushers me inside before I have a chance to protest.

Her house is very funny, there are always lots of people around and it's very loud. Dad says she's been corrupted and that we have to be extra nice to her, so she'll find her way back. She's never done anything bad to us, that's why we always greet her and take her up on the offer of tea she often invites us for.

My dad doesn't hate sinning people, he pities them and says we always need to remember that those people have brought evil upon them, they don't need any more problems. I'm allowed to talk to people, but no real friendships come out of this, they think I'm a weird kid who's going to try church them, that's what they say.

"Here you go." She hands me a freshly made lemonade. Having learned the hard way, she knows that I'm not allowed to drink anything with fizz, and she respects it.

"Thank you Mrs. Campbell." I smile gratefully and take a sip, letting my taste bus slowly explode with the delicious taste. "You wanted me to meet someone? I've already met your room-mate who thinks he's Jesus Ma'am, I've tried explaining why it couldn't be the truth, but I don't think that he's believed me." A cheery laugh escapes her lips and she shakes her head at me, with the same look she's always watching me with, it resembles the way my dad looks at sinners, with pity.

"It's not about him love, although you might be delighted to hear that he's left. He's gone off to bigger, better things." She winks at me, but I don't really understand the meaning of it. "Anyway, that's not the reason I've invited you over. You know that I have a daughter, don't you, love?" She does. I think we had play dates when we were younger, kindergarten time, but then Mrs. Campbell got a divorce and her ex husband took her daughter with him. I never saw her around after that any more.

"Naomi." I nod, remembering the wild, always out for trouble, tomboy like hurricane of a child. My father says she was bound to lose her way, from one look alone he could tell, that's how wise he is. We've always had lots of fun on our weekly play dates, dad said once a week was plenty, the other days I had to learn new things like cleaning, cooking, reading, writing, playing the cello and mesmerising prayers.

"Exactly. Her father is very sick and there is absolutely no way she could've stayed with him, now that he's hospitalised. Thankfully it's summer break and she can transfer at the start of a completely new year when school starts. Mid term is always more difficult I believe." "I'm sorry to hear about her father. It sounds serious."

She's nodding with a far away look. "It is love, he's had four strokes in the last two years, I had no idea that Naomi was taking care of him on her own. I would have helped, if only I knew. He was immobile, couldn't talk or walk any more and then he had a heart attack, poor Mike. Sadly he's not a candidate for a transplantation. Even if he was, he wouldn't...well he..." She takes a deep breath and discreetly wipes her teary eyes. "He wouldn't live to that day."

I lay my hand on top of hers in an comforting manner, hoping it might do good, I've seen daddy do it to upset people. "I'm really, terribly sorry to hear that. If there is anything I, we can help with" "There is actually." A small smile forms on her lips and she nods her head to the back-door where her garden is. "Naomi arrived yesterday night, she doesn't know anyone here any more and I would hate it if she got caught up with the wrong people. Being alone isn't good for her right now either. I've hoped maybe, if it's not too much to ask, you could show her around and spend some time with her so she's not that lost in her own thoughts."

"Of course." I don't need to think about that, knowing my father will be fine with me helping Mrs. Campbell in such a hard time.

"Lovely dear, she's outside in the garden. Here, why don't you bring her a coke, it wont look like a set up then." I nod and then I'm standing in the hot sun again, feeling the sweat form on my skin as my eyes roam across the messy garden until they widen.

There is Naomi.

Or rather a very naked fifteen year old Naomi, sunbathing in her bra and knickers only on the slide we have played on as children. She's laying flat on her back, huge sunglasses are covering her eyes and the bigger part of her face and I can hear the loud music, she's listening to, from where I'm standing. I could be wrong, but I think that something on her hip bone is a tattoo, or a really big mole.

"Can I help you with something after you're done checking me out?"

I blink a couple times, wondering when she's moved without me noticing since my eyes are still glued to her hip bone which is now on my eye level as she is sitting on the ladder edge of the slide, dangling her feet. "Uh" I try to respond and stop this rude staring but I cant, my eyes wont move and my vocal chords seem not to work any more. I have lost control over my feet too, knowing it because I really want to walk towards her but I cant. What is happening?

"Your drooling there a bit honey, never seen a girl sunbath before?" Her words are, thankfully, not hatred filled, they sound different, but I cant quite understand the meaning yet. There is something in them like when dad reads the church newspaper, the funny section, but she isn't laughing. This is confusing me.

Finally, when she waved her hand in front of my very rude eyes they rise and I'm met with another wave of confusion, a hot one, which started at my face and ran down my whole body, making my tippy toes tingle. Her eyes. They are grey blue, very intense, capturing, I've never seen such eyes before. And they are smiling. "Uh here." I push the can into her chest and she chuckles when I turn around, red faced and make a beeline for the little wooden door, exiting the garden. I almost trip when I reach our door and burst inside, catching my breath.

"Where have you been Emily?" My father asks from the kitchen where he is preparing our dinner. "Uh, Naomi is back, her father is deadly sick and Mrs. Campbell asked me to show her around and spend time with her, so she wont lose her way." I rush out, desperate for a shower after all the sweating. I fight with the laces of my boots and almost shriek when they wont open fast enough, but then they do and after getting out of my coat I go to the kitchen to see my father.

He expects me with a frown and worried eyes, towelling a pot dry. Always clean up after you cooked, he says all the time, because afterwards you'll be too lazy and you'll die in a mess. "You do know that you don't have to do that, Emily. If you're not comfortable with Naomi, you don't need to do that. She's got her mother and she will meet people eventually."

"Daddy, her father is dying. The man she's spend most of her life with. I think if she needs help, I shouldn't be selfish, I should do what I can to help her through that hard time. Wouldn't you want someone being there for me if something ever happened to you?"

He furrows his brows and places the pot into the wooden cabin it belongs in. "I wouldn't want anyone like Naomi to be that person."

"But I am not Naomi, I could be a help." Looking into my honest eyes, those eyes that have glanced so happily and long at Naomi private parts, at her bra covered breasts and hips, at her knickers, he sighs before nodding softly. "You're right, of course you are Emily. You need to show her the right way without forcing her into something she doesn't want. I know you'll do great child." He gently, and awkwardly rests his hand on my shoulder, his way of showing me affection, before he turns around to set the table. "Go and take a shower, Emily. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes."

Slowly walking towards the stairs, I wait until I hear plates moving before I take two at a time. Finally in my room, I rip my clothes from my body and reach for my knickers to look at them. I'm in shock, not believing what could have caused this. Maybe I am ill? They are very wet, sadly I cant explain it with the weather because they are slick and covered in white something.

I decided to ignore it for now and see if it will occur again before I talk to my father about it, perhaps I'll need to see a doctor.

The shower is very refreshing, the cool water doing wonders to my overheated body.

I remember that like it was yesterday, me getting wet over Naomi's almost naked body. I had no idea what it was, what had happened to me that day, or why this mental image of her sun kissed body wouldn't leave my mind. Thankfully I never talked to my dad about the, uh, weird things happening in my knickers, he'd had me shipped off to some deserted island with missioners.

I hear a key rattle in the front door before it's pushed against two times, opening. There's groaning, cursing, throwing things before a blonde head appears through the balcony door. I'm sunbathing on the balcony, wearing only a bikini and when our eyes meet she's looking angry, tense, and like she wants to set the world on fire because it was mean to her. I raise my brow in question and she just like that she's grinning. Hopping outside, straddling my very naked thighs she leans down press her lips softly against mine. "Fucking wanker, wouldn't let me finish my fucking exam, said time was up, useless prick." She mumbles into my lips, while her breath hitches occasionally when my hands find a spot she likes me touching on her back, lower back and beautiful arse.

The way her lips attack my lips, my jaw and every part of my face and neck shows me that she is in no mood to talk about her horrible day. No. She needed something else completely to help her , later we'll talk, I'll let her rant, perhaps cry, then I'll comfort her, give her options how to go on, and tomorrow will be a new day but now the only thing she needed was a fucking beautiful orgasm. "God, Ems that Bikini is fucking hot." She growls right before she pounces on me, her hands and lips everywhere at once. In the middle of her mission, to devour me, she freezes and looks at me through wild, hooded eyes whispering; "I fucking love you, you know." And panting, I smile, almost blinding her when I nod, softly dragging my fingers through her soft, shoulder length hair. "I should fucking hope so."

Grinning so that her nose crinkles she takes my bottom lip between her teeth, tugging, not very gently. It makes me yelp. "Bitch. You're supposed to say; Gosh Naomi, I thank my beloved god every day for your presence in my life, for your undying locality and love, for your hot body, talented fingers, beautiful face and outstanding perso" I cut her off with a giggling kiss, pinching her sides. "I love you too." Sighing, Naomi hugs me closer, contently breathing in the smell of my berry shampoo before I feel her, always horny, fingers sneak into my bikini bottoms.