A/N: So this is just a crazy AU idea that sprung into my mind tonight and refused to leave me alone until I'd written this one mental image. It's just a start and I dunno if it'll ever be more, but I had fun writing it, so possibly at some point if it doesn't detract too much from my serious writing.

Thanks to FitchSwitch for being my tester and giving it a quick read through for obvious errors.

Enjoy, my lovelies.

Disclaimer: I don't own Skins or the characters, but I love it when Katie Fitch is badass.

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Katie stood outside the dingy club, taking it in. The entrance was down a filthy back alley, a dark blue door covered by a layer of grime. A neon sign advertised only two of the x's of an adult video store and flickered at random intervals. Other than that, she'd never have known that anything at all was back here. Well, except that the guy she'd kneed in the balls at the last place had told her this was definitely the spot. It was her fifth destination of the evening and she was running out of fucking patience.

Stupid fucking James. It was all his fault. If he wasn't such a fucking idiot, she wouldn't be here.

He'd had to go and get himself into gambling, of course, because only an idiot doesn't understand that the odds are against you and the house is almost always going to win. He'd gone broke, and when he had, he'd found someone to loan him money. Someone who introduced him to a whole new world of underground gambling. Someone who'd given him a broken nose when he'd lost all of the loan in a high stakes game of poker (because the stupid sod had never been able to bluff well) and been unable to pay the money back in time. So, instead of giving up, asking for help, the idiot had found someone else to loan him even more money: enough to cover his debts to his old loan shark and more to gamble away.

It wasn't until he was in the hole for one hundred and fifty thousand quid that he'd finally come to her and Emily for help, sniffling away, sporting a broken arm and a black eye that had been a warning that he'd better pay up. Where on earth he thought that she and Emily could come up with that kind of money was beyond her.

Katie'd suggested going to the cops, but Emily'd said that that would put James in jeopardy, and, stupid decision making or not, he was still their little brother. Emily'd had a point, too, because James, it turned out, had done some shady shit to try to pay off some of his debt.

So Emily had gone off to try to handle things, to make a deal, get a payment plan, something. That was over a week ago, and Katie hadn't gotten so much as a text since.

So Katie had confronted James again, breaking up a minor game of Texas Hold 'Em between in the process, and after threatening to cut off his dick (which Katie was starting to think was the only thing that mattered to him besides money), he'd given her a name: Stone. That was who was in charge. James had never met him, but everyone apparently knew that he was the one that pulled all of the strings and made the little puppets dance. The loan sharks, the bullies, the drugs, the whole fucking underground gambling ring, all traced back to Stone.

Katie'd started asking around a few nights ago, and all of those inquiries (growing less pleasant by the location), had led her here.

She steeled herself and marched up to the door, ignoring the layers of graffiti, the wads of chewed gum plastered to it, and the layer of dirt, and rapped twice, hard, brushing her knuckles against her trousers while repressing the urge to make a face once she'd done so.

A minute ticked by, and then another, and Katie was about to try knocking again despite her disgust at the state of the door, when it swung open to reveal a man almost as big as the doorway.

Greedy pig eyes dipped to her tits and stayed there as a gruff voice from somewhere above the man's burly shoulders and thick neck said, "Evenin', babes. Think you might be lost."

"I want to see Stone," Katie replied, not beating around the bush. She reached into her purse and wrapped her fingers around the brass knuckles she'd picked up two clubs ago from the useless sod who she'd had a feeling would sell his own granny for a piece of arse. She might have been small, but she could throw a good fucking punch. If all else failed, she considered, there was always her knee to the groin tactic that seemed to have worked pretty well for her so far.

The whole man jiggled as he let out a deep laugh. "You's definitely lost, then, sweetheart."

"Don't fuck with me. I'm looking for my sister and she was looking for Stone, and my sources say that Stone is here."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, grinning smarmily down at her. "What's 'er name, then, sweetheart?"

"Emily. Now fucking let me in, so that I can talk to Stone."

"Let her in," a hard masculine voice said from behind the wall of man before her.

Much to Katie's surprise, the man sighed, but complied with the request.

"Fuck me! You look just like her!" said the man who must have issued the order, sounding practically giddy at the idea. He was average height, but bulky with muscle, and not unattractive with sandy brown hair, keen blue eyes, and a rather charming grin. "You're Emily's sister, you said?"

"Are you Stone?"

The man giggled wildly and slapped a hand on his leg as if she'd just told the funniest joke in the world. "Nah, love. I'm just an employee, innit."

Katie narrowed her eyes at him. "Well, as an employee, I'd like it if you took me to him, please. Or you could just bring me my sister, call my brother's debts paid, and I'll be out of your hair."

The man howled with laughter again and shook his head. "I like you. You're feisty. Your sister's not here, love."

"Is Stone?"

The man sobered suddenly and stroked his chin for a second before he brushed down his green polo shirt and pretended to fix the collar. "Stone doesn't like uninvited guests," he finally volunteered once he'd adjusted his white and blue pinstripe trousers.

"I don't like having to go searching for my twin sister, when you've obviously seen her," Katie replied, her heart pounding in her chest despite her outer bravado.

The man seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded. "Tell you what, why don't you go have a drink at the bar on me, and I'll go see what I can do for you. What do you say?"

Katie figured it was probably as good an offer as she was going to get, and since she had no doubt that the man was armed even if she wasn't sure with what, she consented. She let him lead her down a dark dank corridor that opened into a large, shadily lit room with crappy disco lights pulsing around. He settled her on a bar stool, told the barman that her drinks were on him, and disappeared.

Katie went to lean her elbows on the bar and stopped herself when she saw the layer of stickiness that enveloped the old wood. This was certainly not her ideal place to spend her Friday night. She let her eyes adjust to the dim yellow light over the bar and swept them around the remains of the club. A few scantily clad girls danced on platforms against one wall while another wrapped herself around a pole towards the centre. Greasy looking fuckers were lounging around on plush chairs that had seen better days, and a few had overly made up slags hanging off their arms or draped over their laps.

"What'll you have?" the barman asked her, setting down a coaster, though why, Katie couldn't fathom.

"Martini," she replied. "Two olives."

The barman nodded and set about making her drink, leaving her back to survey the place. She tried to imagine Emily in a place like this, and she shuddered at the image.

"Here you go, love," the barman replied, smiling nicely at her (without staring at her tits, she noted appreciatively). He was the least sleazy person in here, as far as she could tell, and she wondered briefly what had brought him to such a dump.

When he turned around to fuss with some of the bottles on the shelves and she caught the top of a nasty looking scar peeking out of the top of his shirt, she decided she probably didn't want to know.

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Katie had made it through about half of her drink and one of her olives before the man returned.

"It's your lucky day, lady. You've been granted an audience."

What is he, the fucking king? Katie thought, and resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she slid off her seat and let the man lead her through a back door, into a hallway with several more doors going off of it. As she passed one that was partially open she peered in to find two partially naked women snorting lines of coke off of each other. Delightful, she thought sarcastically.

The man turned through a door towards the end of the hallway which revealed only another, shorter hallway, and then led her to a set of double doors at the end of that. He rapped softly on the door, then pushed one open partway, giving her a nod to indicate that she should go through.

"Thanks," she muttered, before scolding herself internally. The man had not done this for her, that much she knew.

She stepped through the door, unsure of exactly what she might find, her heart racing at the thought that she was walking straight into danger with no back up.

She found herself in what appeared to be a rather luxurious, if poorly lit, office. Unlike the furnishings in the front of the club, the ones here were expensive and well kept. Her eyes strayed over a sturdy, antique looking desk with stacks of paper on it and up to the person sitting behind it.

The lamp on the desk was the only light on in the room, and it left the person mostly in shadow, but what she could make out was a well tailored black suit that looked to be of fine fabrics over a white oxford shirt and a thin black tie. The person's face was mostly obscured in the shadow cast by the wide-brimmed black fedora style hat perched on his head at an angle.

"Are you Stone?" Katie asked, her voice sounding rough and timid.

The person nodded.

"You're a hard man to track down," Katie said, her voice sounding marginally stronger.

Stone chuckled softly and then tilted his face up so that it caught the light, and Katie stopped breathing as recognition dawned on her just before a smooth, silky, and above all feminine voice replied, "Maybe that's because I'm not a man."

Piercing blue eyes surrounded by heavy smoky eye makeup kept Katie pinned in place as she processed this unexpected information. Stone was indeed a woman. A woman dressed in a nicely tailored man's suit that was brought in ever so slightly to fit her slender form and accentuate a little curve here and there, but a woman none the less. A woman with luscious lips painted with a dark red lipstick and pale, perfect skin beneath the most stunning eyes Katie had ever seen.

She swallowed hard as she realised that long brown hair had been pulled up into a bun, and that was the cause for the tilt on the hat the woman wore.

"You needed something?" Stone asked, sounding rather amused (and Katie couldn't help thinking that that amusement was at her expense).

Katie opened and closed her mouth a few times as she attempted to get over her initial shock about Stone being a woman (not only that, but being the most stunning woman that Katie'd ever laid eyes on) and get back to her initial reason for coming there. "I'm looking for my sister, and she was last seen looking for you."

Stone nodded, a smirk playing at her lips. "Emily Fitch. She found me."

"Then where the fuck is she?" Katie demanded, her face flushing as anger rushed through her.

"She's fine. She's safe. I dare say, she's even having a bit of fun," Stone replied evenly.

"If she was fine, she'd have texted me to say so," Katie contradicted her.

"Not if she was a little tied up," Stone countered, her smirk growing wider for a moment.

"Stop fucking me around," Katie growled. She didn't like the way that Stone was eyeing her up and down as if appraising a piece of meat.

Stone turned her eyes back to Katie's and held her gaze for a long moment. "Let me get you a drink, Miss Fitch. Have a seat. We have quite a bit to discuss, I think."

Katie glared, but moved forward to the chair Stone had indicated.

"Cook!" Stone called out, and the man who'd led Katie through the hallways popped his head in the door. "Bring us two martinis, please. Two olives in each." Stone turned back to Katie. "That is how you take it, right?"

Katie did her best to hide her surprise as she nodded. Clearly the woman had some sort of surveillance on the front of the club hidden somewhere in this office that she'd either hidden or shut off before Katie got there, she decided.

"Coming right up, boss," Cook replied before disappearing again, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Stone took her hat off, placing it on the desk in front of her. She took out a few pins and an elastic and shook out silky, long, wavy brown hair that fell attractively around her face, then she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms in front of her. "Let me tell you a story."

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Feel free to click that little button and let me know what you thought. I dunno if I'll continue it, but the image of mobster!Effy sitting there in her suit looking sexy as fuck was too much for me to ignore. And, yes, that was implied Naomily above. You're welcome for any visuals Effy's words might have sparked. ;)

xx