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I could be contended

I don't need to suffer

You're beautiful

And good to talk to

You make an impression

You take my attention

When you touch my skin

I smell disaster

Step away, (Step away) Walk away

(All I want is the real thing)

Step away, (Step away) (It should be me) Walk away

(And you)

- Eurythmics

She should have known better, Gail decided as she walked into Fight Night. Maybe Nick was right after all, maybe she just wasn't girlfriend material. She laughed bitterly to herself, shaking her head and taking a moment to stop and make sure her happy-face mask was firmly in place. She couldn't afford to have anyone asking stupid questions right now. How could she have been so blind? That was what hurt the most, she decided, as she took a deep breath and walked into the crowd. Just because she had never felt this way about anyone before, didn't mean anything. Didn't she know by now she wasn't the kind of girl that anyone would actually want to be with? How could she have let herself believe that this would be different? Well fuck Holly dead! And her snotty, asshole friends too! But maybe this was for the best. Better to find out now, than to let this little charade continue until Holly fell for someone else, someone who Holly didn't think was stupid and uneducated, someone in Holly's league, someone Holly would want to get serious about. And then she would be pushed out in the cold again, like all of the other times, except this time it might kill her.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She turned it off with out bothering to look at it. Anyone she might want to talk to was here anyway.

Oliver greeted her, handing her a drink.

WHAT THE… she spit the disgusting sweet wine back into the glass.

"Where's your girl?" He asked

"Don't ask!" She shot back at him, earning a concerned fatherly look that said, we'll talk later...

She braced herself for the advice that didn't come. As Oliver went off to sit with the other White Shirts, she realized that he was as nervous about tonight going well as Chris had been earlier. She looked up to see Dov smile and wave at her from across the room. This was where she belonged! Not with a bunch of stuck up doctors who would always question her intelligence and look down at her. She didn't need them anyway!

After successfully navigating past the bar without having anyone ask too many questions, and passing the nauseating wine off to Wes's aggravating partner, she found Dov and Traci ringside. Traci had just started asking her about Holly when the fight began.

What the..? Nick? No, that wasn't right. Nick was the trainer not the fighter. She looked across the ring to see Oliver's head snap around and his eyebrows shoot up in concern as the fight was announced. Where was that stupid rookie? How could he do this to them? To Oliver? Maybe the universe was trying to tell her tonight that you just couldn't trust anybody.

Fuck.

She needed a real drink, and she needed it now! As if reading her mind, Traci reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a flask. She drank deeply before handing it to Gail and cheering Nick on.

Scotch.

Thank God!

As Gail lowered it from her lips, the inscription on the flask flashed in the light, making her freeze, the impact of it hitting her hard before she handed it back.

"Jerry Barber, Groom.", was all it read.

And there it was. Someone had truly wanted Traci. And Gail had fucked that up too. She had to get out of here! She was toxic. She ruined everything she touched. And to think, for one moment she had allowed someone to give her the false hope that she could be different, be better. But for now, she realized, even as she plastered a smile on her face and pretended to be having a good time, she had to get the fuck out of here!

Nick was going down, and going down hard! She and Traci and Dov were all yelling at him to fight, when she saw him look across the room. The look of defeat on his face was clear even before his opponent landed the final blow. Andy and Sam. Of course they had to show up now. Just one more reason for her to dislike the traitorous little bitch. And that was her cue to go.

Once again Gail found herself sitting on the ledge behind the stairs, feet dangling over the five story drop, bottle of tequila held loosely between her legs. It had been a while since she had been here, drinking and hiding and thinking. Nine weeks if she let herself think about it. Nine weeks since Ford had changed everything. Nine weeks since she had so desperately kissed Holly in the interrogation room and allowed herself to love, and to hope.

She took a deep pull on her bottle and let the liquor burn all the way down to the hollow pit in her stomach. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the wood of the shed behind her.

Fuck.

Cold bit into her fingers and nose as it began to snow again. Her ears were numb and her feet were turning into painful blocks of ice in spite of the thick wool socks she wore. She kicked her legs, enjoying the way her heels made a painful thud against the brick. Tears burned in her eyes as tequila burned the back of her throat. They left hot, silent trails down her cold, red cheeks. Her chest felt like someone had crushed all of her ribs under a red hot iron weight.

Holly.

What did it matter if she had been just another notch in Holly's lesbian bedpost? Another straight girl turned. Fun. Right?

Fuck.

How could she have let herself fall so fast, so deep? Well that was over now. Never again. She needed to close that door, walk away and never look back. Yup. That's just what she would do.

Get yourself together Gail!

She sucked in a ragged breath, wiped her runny eyes and nose on the sleeve of Holly's hoodie she had stolen weeks ago, and threw the empty bottle she was holding into the dumpster below. It landed with a satisfying crash of glass shattering against metal. She pulled the hood up over her head breathing in the comforting scent of Holly's hair.

Yup. Time to go.