Pursuing the Idea of You

by subtleanarchist

AU. The only literal ghost of her past has come back to haunt her, seventeen years too late. What do you do when you find the dearest figment of your imagination tangible at last?

1. Chapter One

I come bearing gifts! I apologize for the hiatus; I'm sorry, I really, really am. A lot happened in the past year, and I honestly couldn't find the time to set aside a few hours to update any of my stories. But, I assure you, they're definitely still ongoing!

Anyway, this one's rather lengthy, so I hope you'll bear with me. I didn't have the heart to split it into two chapters since that would've ruined the flow.

To clarify a few things, it's crucial that you understand initially that Naomi Campbell is not—and will never be—a mere by-product of Emily Fitch's hyperactive, and arguably creative, imagination. She is an independent entity in and of herself, though employed by a Higher Order; Emily knows this. Katie knows this. Jenna thinks they've all cracked. You'll know what I mean later.

Reviews are greatly appreciated! Let me know you stopped by, and tell me what you think. ;)

---

yours. then.

---

'You look positively despondent,' she gestured emphatically with a spoon in her direction, brows knitted together in concern. 'What's wrong, sweetie? Something up at school?'

'What does despondent even mean?' Emily frowned miserably. She toyed with her food quietly, pushed stone-cold mushrooms around her plate with a knife. 'You always use big words, because you think it makes you sound smart. But, half the time, I don't know what you're talking about. You should stop it.' She speared a soggy slice of fried tomato and scrutinized it with growing disdain. 'Like, that time at the Fair, when you saw those circus performers at the square and started using words like concupiscent, and contricate—'

'It was a family fair, and they were half-naked; it was hardly decent! Also, it's compensate—'

'Exactly!' she raised her fork and glared at her hotly through the tines. 'You always correct my grammar! And, my vocabulary! You think you're so smart! Always talking about politics and the 'questionable quality of education in third world countries,'' she gestured with air-quotes and rolled her eyes. 'Just 'cause you're in college and you support things like feminism—'

Naomi sighed softly, 'Do you really want to fight with me right now, Emsy? We could always do that after you've told me what's really bothering you.' She reached over the table and took her hand gently, smiling when Emily made no attempt to pull away. 'You know you can tell me anything,' she licked the cream off her spoon and nodded encouragingly.

Emily's features crumpled together in a vain effort to hold her tears back; she hiccuped into her napkin and sniffled soundly. Naomi sat bolt upright, eyes wide. 'They made fun of me,' she wiped her nose on the cuff of her jumper and rubbed her eyes briskly. 'After lunch, when they sent us out onto the playground. Freddie and James—'

'—Freddie? The scrawny Italian kid from Totterdown?' Naomi asked sharply. 'Didn't they take your filing folder the other week and hide it in the third floor supply closet? And stole your lunch bag to eat all your crumpets to spite you for ratting them out to Miss Hart three days ago?'

Emily nodded. Naomi scowled darkly and huffed; she crossed her arms and gestured for her to continue. 'They made fun of me for eating alone, out on the benches by the greenhouse. James called me funny names, I think some of them were rude,' she looked greatly upset, and her lip quivered. 'Freddie took my bow and wouldn't give it back. James chased him 'round the grounds, and I tried to catch up, but I couldn't.' She swiped her sleeve across her nose again and stifled a sneeze. 'When I caught up to them, they didn't have it anymore. Freddie said it was gone. James said he lost it. I cried, because daddy bought it for me,' Emily pressed the heel of her palms against the Formica table top and sighed through her teeth. 'James laughed at me. Freddie left after that, though. I didn't talk to either of them after class.'

'Christ,' Naomi hissed. 'If they weren't children imagine the things I would do to them. Jesus, those two. They'll grow up horrid and useless.' She closed her eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of her nose. Emily scooted closer and pulled her hand from her face, smiled up at her when Naomi glanced down with sympathetic eyes. 'Oh, Emsy,' she breathed. 'Don't say it's okay. It isn't. You know it isn't. I have half a mind to go down there right now and—'

'And what?' Emily asked amusedly. 'Knock their socks off? You'd be charged. Violence against children and all that.'

Naomi's lip curled into a smirk, 'Or, you know, with manslaughter. The latter comes a bit later, I think. In case I get carried away. You could always stop me, you know. You know I'd listen.'

'I don't trust me, either,' Emily leaned toward the glass on the table and tucked the straw between her teeth. 'I might be tempted not to stop you.' She giggled when Naomi leaned down to brush a kiss against her cheek, blowing into her ear playfully a beat later.

'Oh, you will, Fitch. Your conscience will always betray you in the end,' she popped a cherry into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Beside her, Emily nodded knowledgeably.

'A parable.'

Naomi bit her lip to stifle a laugh, 'A paradox, sweetie. Though, in this case, I think the more accurate term would be ironic.' She tucked her chin on top of Emily's head and allowed herself a languid grin. 'So, what do we do with ourselves today, my little mistress?'

Emily turned her head and pressed her face against Naomi's chest, breathing her in carefully. Naomi felt her smile against the thin fabric of her blouse. 'Take me to Harrods. Mum never brings me to Harrods. She thinks I'll go on a bat-crazy rampage and start breaking glass cases and pulling down fifteen-grand designer handbags off the shelves.'

Naomi pulled back to look at her curiously, 'Take you to London? Not that I'd mind, but why Harrods, though? Seriously? You don't want to go to, I don't know, Waterstones? Down at Patchway? I could drive, you know. We don't have to take a cab or anything if you don't want to.'

'No,' Emily insisted adamantly. 'There's something about Harrods, Naoms. I've never been to London, and Katie always says the best way to go about a city is to visit their shopping centers first. To get a feel for the kind of culture the locals are used to.' She prattled on with rehearsed ease, reiterating words she'd heard much too often. Naomi snorted derisively and raised a brow.

'Your sister watches too much teenage trash on the telly. It's not good for her, you know—you shouldn't watch those things either. She's been brainwashed by the demeaning traps of the modern materialistic cult; the snares of the piss-poor-parody of youthful indulgence they call pop culture,' she rolled her eyes and continued wryly. 'She's the poster child for Women Who Embrace the Patriarchal Paradigm, and she's not even a woman yet.'

Undeterred, Emily pressed on, 'Come on, Naoms. Just this once.' She glanced up, eyes twinkling with mischief. 'We'll take a photo together, for proof. Just to spite mum.'

Naomi grinned, 'There are a thousand reasons why I love you, Fitch. This—this right here—is one of them.' She rumpled Emily's hair and stood up to smooth down her trousers.

'Your knickerbocker glory, though,' Emily trailed off wistfully, gaze fixed on the half-empty glass of dessert on their table. 'Won't you finish it, Naoms? It seems like an awful waste.'

'Oh,' Naomi scratched the back of her head awkwardly. 'I suppose there is that, but honestly, sweetie. I couldn't take another bite if I tried.' She smiled apologetically and held out a hand to help Emily up from her seat. She glanced behind her and whistled through her teeth, 'Heads up, Ems. Senior Fitch at two o' clock.'

Emily flailed, thoroughly flustered, and grasped Naomi's hand tightly in her own, 'Don't leave me, please.' Naomi squeezed her hand and smiled reassuringly in lieu of a proper reply.

'Emily!' her mother cried exasperatedly. 'Would you stop that? The waiters are looking at you funny. Twice, the manager asked me if you were my daughter—I suppose he didn't know what to think: you charged two meals and two desserts on my tab, and they weren't even for Katie! And, look,' she gestured at the table vaguely. 'You didn't even finish them., which is a good thing I suppose. No wonder you're putting on so much weight!'

'I did!' Emily protested hotly; Naomi twined their fingers comfortingly under the table. 'That's Naomi's share. She says she's full and can't eat another bite, and frankly, I don't think I can, either.'

'If it's any consolation, the salmon gratin was positively exquisite, Mrs. Fitch, if I do say so myself. Thank you for lunch, but I really can't stomach too much dairy for dessert, you know? Bit bad for the, ah, digestion,' Naomi added helpfully, patting her stomach gingerly with her free hand.

'Emily,' her mother began warningly. Suddenly, to her left, Katie came bounding up looking thoroughly beleaguered, hair sticking messily out of her ponytail.

'Mum, James needs more tokens. Dad says he can't lend him any more, he ran out of change fifteen minutes ago. I think they're using your credit card,' Katie said matter-of-factly, fingers clasping and unclasping the silver filigree catch on her bracelet. Jenna gasped and pressed a hand to her throat, horrified.

'Katiekins, see if you can finish the ice cream. I'll be right back,' she pushed past her daughter and strode menacingly over to the accused, lounging by an out-of-order ticket booth next to the arcade.

Katie pressed her lips into a hard line and glanced at the spoon next to Naomi's hand, on the table. 'She thinks you're losing it you know,' Katie remarked. 'Talking to yourself is usually the first sign of madness.'

'I'm not alone,' Emily sighed, frustrated. 'Naomi's just really, really shy. She ordered too, you know. I can't finish all this—' she waved at the general direction of the table and picked up Naomi's spoon, as if to prove a point, '—All by myself. You know that.'

'Yeah, I know Ems. I do believe you, you know,' Katie smiled without a trace of condescension. 'Hey, Naomi. How're you doing?' she addressed the space next to Emily, a good ten feet from where Naomi stood.

'Fine, thanks very much, Katie,' Naomi smirked, greatly amused at being addressed so inaccurately it was almost laughable.

Emily looked a bit awkward and held out a hand to Katie. 'Over here, Kay,' she pulled gently on Katie's wrist and nudged Naomi forward so they faced each other properly.

Katie fidgeted uncomfortably in place and called out tentatively, 'You, uh, enjoy the party, Naoms? Emsy feed you right?'

'Quite a lot, yes, Kay, thank you. Emily's been a great host,' Naomi winked at Emily conspiratorially, mock-wincing when a fist connected with her shoulder a beat later.

'She says I'm a brilliant host,' Emily looked particularly smug and tugged on the cuff of Naomi's parka. Katie rolled her eyes.

'I'm sure she did. Now, come on, Ems! Triple tag team against mum and dad at air hockey; loser pays for dessert.' Katie readjusted her shoulder bag and waved at the space next to Emily before striding off, 'See you around, Naomi!'

'I suppose I have to go,' Emily whispered sadly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Naomi chuckled and tilted her chin up with a finger so their eyes met.

'Don't sound so miserable, sweetie. I'll see you soon, you know that. It's not like I have anywhere else to go, anyway.' She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her close in a warm hug. 'Happy birthday, Emsy. Tell Katie I greeted her, too.'

'Thanks, Naoms,' Emily smiled against Naomi's stomach. 'For someone who doesn't go out much, you definitely know how to show a girl a good time.'

'To be fair, your parents do. I just tagged along, really. Also, princesses are only seven once their whole lives, and seven—as you and I both know—is a pretty magical number. You deserve only the best,' Naomi pulled her coat on a little tighter and grinned. 'I'll see you later. Just give us a holler, yeah? I'll come running. Materialize through the wall and everything if you'd like; the whole she-bang.'

Emily waved cheerily and blew a kiss in her direction, 'Take care, you dolt!' she laughed. Naomi winked and swiveled on her heels, inconspicuously slipping past a father and son who'd walked in through the front door. Emily turned to find the waiter who bussed at their table staring at her strangely.

'Who were you talking to, love?' he asked, nonplussed. 'Just now?' he sounded completely bewildered, and Emily couldn't help laughing.

'Naomi,' she explained kindly, her tone patiently patronizing. 'She's a senior at Roundview College; a pretty strong candidate for the presidency. She's kind of popular,' Emily bit her thumb self-consciously. 'She wants to take up law at LSE, or UCL, but she's way too smart for either—I told her to go for Oxford, or Cambridge. That's where Gramps taught at before. But, if she goes to uni there, I won't see her around so much.' The waiter blinked, looking more ruffled by the minute.

'You've got a pretty long way to go before uni, hon. So, this Naomi—she from around here? Your cousin, or something?' he asked, clearly skeptical. He wiped down the table and raised his brows expectantly. 'Yeah?'

Emily shrugged and readjusted the collar of her coat, 'She never told me where she was from. She's my imaginary friend.'

xx

'But, if you tilt it to the left, it looks a bit like Andy Warhol. Not an Andy Warhol, mind you. Andy Warhol himself, I mean. Look.'

'Okay, now you're just being mean—Huh. Christ, it does look like him. And believe me, I've seen enough self-portraits of him in art class to last me a lifetime. I'd know.'

'Don't swear,' Naomi chastised gently, craning her neck to the left to examine the portrait a little better. She gave it a cursory once-over and grinned. 'Okay, from this angle, it's definitely a giraffe biting a rabbit's head off. Have a look.'

'You swear all the time! That's not fair at all,' Emily grumbled. She snatched back the canvas and held it arm's length, the corner of her mouth twisted in a critical grimace. 'Actually, it looks a bit like your mum.'

Naomi frowned and leaned down to peer closer, 'I highly doubt that, seeing as she's never really—Oi!' she slapped Emily's arm playfully and pranced away from her hasty retaliation. 'Cheeky! You've never even seen her! Please, like your mum's any better,' she rolled her eyes. 'At least mine's got halfway decent facial features,' she tossed her hair back haughtily, laughing when Emily braced a shoulder against her ribs and shoved.

'Gorgeous facial features you supposedly inherited?' Emily muttered. Naomi raised a brow suggestively and leaned down to brush the tip of Emily's nose gently with her own.

'You calling me beautiful, Emsy?' she asked coyly, looking up at her through her lashes. Emily blushed delicately, her cheeks and the tips of her ears tinted a rosy-red flush. She turned away abruptly and rubbed her nose consciously with her free hand.

'Cut it out,' she muttered. She unbuckled the strap on her shoulder bag and unceremoniously stuffed her painting inside. Naomi threw her head back and laughed; Emily felt her face flush a little warmer at the sound.

'Sorry, Ems,' she reached down and took Emily's hand in hers, lacing their fingers together. She swung their joined hands as they walked down the street, the silence unbroken for a block or two, save for the occasional horn as a car barreled past, and the crunch of their boots against the crisp, new layer of snow on the cobbles. 'I really like your work, you know. All that stuff I said earlier? I was only messing around, obviously. You're really good at what you do, regardless of what your art teacher thinks. You owned that exhibit, never mind Sarah Cotton and her charcoal sketches,' Naomi wrinkled her nose in distaste.

They walked down to the quay, past the brightly colored sailboats and yachts moored close by the coast. The wooden planks of the dock were rotting in places and creaked beneath their feet, but Naomi sat down heavily anyway and began pulling off her socks. Emily watched curiously as she hitched her skirt up, bare to the knee, and lowered her feet into the cold, murky water with a gratified sigh.

'You really think I can do it?' Emily asked softly, hesitant and shy all of a sudden. She became preoccupied with a knot in the wood beneath her hand and scratched at it lightly with a nail. A hand covered hers and she looked up to meet Naomi's warm, blue eyes. They were alight with a pale, flickering flame and she felt her heart pick up double-time to keep pace with the intensity she saw reflected back at her.

'Now, listen here, Emily Fitch, and you listen well,' Naomi began quietly, turning in place to face her. She leaned forward and cradled Emily's face in her hands; touched her forehead to hers, daring her to look away. 'You will promise me—promise me, here and now—that you will never listen to anyone who tries to tell you that you can't do something, anything. Never acknowledge them, never believe them. I am telling you now, Emily Fitch, that you can do anything. Be anything you set your heart on. Be anyone you want to be. You will always have me: even if it means being your one-man cheer-squad by the bench, when everyone else is sitting on the bleachers.'

Emily closed her eyes and nodded, lip trembling. She threw her arms around Naomi's neck and pulled her closer, burying her face in the folds of her winter coat. Naomi rubbed slow circles against her back to soothe her; kissed her ear with a tenderness that rivaled that of Emily's father's.

'You're all I've got,' Emily whispered, her voice cracking at the end. 'You're all I've got, Naoms.'

'You know that isn't true,' Naomi murmured. 'You've got Katie, and James, and your mum, and dad, and Christian, and Grace, and Gran and—'

'They didn't show up today at the Showcase,' she sobbed helplessly, grabbing fistfuls of Naomi's coat. Her shoulders heaved as she tried to control her breathing. 'Everyone else's families went. They promised they would, I saved them seats.'

'I know you did, sweetie,' Naomi sighed and pulled her closer; it was easy, sometimes, to forget that Emily was so young, but moments like these grounded her back heavily. 'I'm sure they didn't mean to forget, and you know Katie isn't really interested in things like that,' she wiped Emily's tear-stained cheeks with her thumbs gently, knowing for a fact that an impromptu business meeting was at the heart of her parents' unintended absence, and Emily's subsequent disappointment and heartache. 'But, I was there, wasn't I? So, technically, you had family, too.' She hoisted Emily onto her lap and rocked her slowly in her arms; she cried even harder at the gesture.

'They don't love me like you do,' she whimpered against her neck. Naomi swallowed thickly, feeling tears prick the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill.

'No one will ever love you like I do, Emily. You know that,' she laced their fingers together over her stomach. 'You know that.'

xx

Naomi pushed herself slowly on the swing set, heels digging into the packed dirt for leverage every now and then. The school playground was temporarily empty, its usual patrons expending the last dregs of their mental faculties on rational thought for the day. Emily's last class would end in little over fifteen minutes—ten, perhaps, if her teacher was feeling particularly generous—then they'd have the rest of the afternoon to themselves. She glanced up and spotted a familiar face sauntering over to her eagerly.

She grinned and waved him over, 'Of all the places in the British Isles. You and I—I think the universe is trying to tell us something fundamentally crucial.'

'Something good, I hope. Confirmation, most likely, of our predestined friendship,' he stopped in front of her and opened his arms, feeling awkward and hesitant all of a sudden. She laughed and tumbled into them, throwing her arms around his neck, squealing with delight when he whirled her about in a giddy rush.

'You have no idea how great it feels to see you again,' she said breathlessly. She stepped back and looked him over, 'You haven't changed one bit; packing in a bit of weight there, though,' she prodded his stomach none-too-gently. 'I've missed you,' she smiled fondly.

'And I, you,' he ran a hand through his hair and grinned at her. 'So, what've you been up to lately? What brings you to glamorous Bristol?' he spread his hands. 'Didn't think it was really your scene, you always preferred the ones in the London area. Wasn't your last from Acton?'

'Worcester, actually. Acton was the one before that. She's in med school now, last I heard.'

'Acton?'

'Mm,' she sat back on the swing and leaned back, teetering precariously on the edge of her seat. 'You're one to talk, though! Your last was in Glasgow! What're you doing back in the mainland?'

'I had to take this one, Naomi,' he shrugged and shoved his hands back in his pockets. 'This one's special. Have to look out for them, you know? No one else will.'

'I know what you mean,' she said softly. He took a seat next to her and pushed himself slowly.

'Brilliant coincidence, though,' he glanced at her and chuckled. 'That we'd wind up at the same school, too.'

'Someone thinks its funny to shake things up every now and then,' Naomi said wryly, tilting her head back to squint at the sky. 'How old's yours?'

'Five,' he picked at the rust on the chains, flaking them between his fingers. 'His mother's dead. Father's a drunkard. Beats him to death half the time. He's tried running away twice, social services keep bringing him back. They can't find proof of maltreatment. Doesn't exactly help that his father's the finance chairman,' he scoffed and scuffed the toe of his sneaker into the caked dirt. 'I'd take him away if I could. Make it stop hurting.'

'You are,' she sighed and reached over to take his hand. 'It's enough, sometimes, for them to know someone's watching out for them. That someone cares. That someone loves them, too.'

'Is it?' he whipped around to look at her. 'Nobody else knows about us, nobody else sees us,' he hissed, his voice rising. 'They'll figure things out on their own, Naomi. They'll work it out. They're smart, give them some credit.' He stood up and kicked the seat, gritted his teeth as it spiraled away from him. 'We can't be what they need us to be,'he sagged against the metal frame of the set and put his head in his hands. 'They're all alone. They don't have to be, they don't want to be, they can't help but be—and there's nothing we can do about it.'

The silence was thick with tension, pierced from time to time by the occasional creak of a rusty hinge. Naomi bit her lip and glanced over at the faded brownstone of the school building.

'I think I'll stick around for awhile,' she said quietly. He turned to look at her, brows creased together in confusion.

'Longer than necessary, you mean?' he frowned. She nodded, twisted her hands together in her lap.

'She needs me, I can't just—' she sighed, buried her head in her hands. 'I can't just leave her be. I need her, too.'

'There will be no shortage of children who need us,' he said simply. 'She isn't the first, and neither will she be the last. We can't get too attached, too involved. You know that. I can't tell you the number of times I've wished things were different, but that's the way things are, that's the way things work. It's out of our hands.'

'This one's different!' she cried. She scrambled to her feet and gripped the chain tightly. Her voice wavered. 'You don't understand; she's different! I need more time. I can't do this,' she closed her eyes and shook her head. 'I need more time with her. There's so much we have yet to do, so many things I have yet to tell her—'

'Do it, then,' he clapped her on the shoulder gently, his gaze heavy with sadness. The air suddenly buzzed with the sound of a thousand voices, doors thrown open brashly, rubber-soled shoes squeaking across the granite flooring—they looked up as the double-doors were thrown open, the students released for the day. He scanned the crowd briskly and smiled.

'That yours?' he called over to her. Naomi's head nearly whipped off her shoulders as she turned to look. A figure was pushing past people to clear a path—she was tiny, that much was clear to him. Her little face was pale as she scanned the crowd milling about in the car park, the stairs. Her eyes lit up when she saw them by the playground; a smile slowly spilled across Naomi's face, her eyes bright, twinkling. She met her halfway—she crouched down and held out her arms as the girl threw herself into them. She buried her face in Naomi's neck; they were talking in hushed voices, Naomi leaning back occasionally to wipe off streaks of finger-paint along her cheek and jaw. They'd laugh, and Naomi would touch her forehead to hers, their noses brushing together tenderly. Eventually, she stood up and leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Emily's eyes widened and she glanced behind Naomi to look at him with something akin to fear. He smiled encouragingly at her and winked. A faint blush spread across her face, but she let herself be tugged forward to meet him.

'Emily, this is JJ. He's a good friend of mine,' Naomi said cheerily. 'JJ, this is my Emily.'

'Hello, Emily,' he crouched down and held out his hand for her to shake.

She looked at him with wide, curious eyes and touched his palm with the tips of her fingers gingerly, like she was afraid he'd suddenly dissolve at her touch. 'Are you a Friend, too? Is yours at this school?' she whispered conspiratorially.

He winked, 'I'm afraid he's younger than you, though, love. He's only five.'

'Are there a lot of you here?' she asked, surprised. She glanced up at Naomi and tugged on her hand, 'Naoms?'

Naomi looked uncomfortable, 'Er, not really, Emsy. Not everyone has one, not everyone needs one. And, some of them—your school mates, I mean—they might have Friends that don't really like showing themselves to other Friends. I mean, they're there, but even we can't see them.' She looked at JJ pointedly; he cleared his throat and coughed.

'Yes, well. About three out of ten of us are uncomfortable with the idea of public exposure. They like to keep to themselves, rather anti-social, if you will,' he looked up at the school and blinked. 'I think they're released as well. I can hear him from here. Unfortunately, I have to go 'round the back to check. It was lovely meeting you, Emily. Take care now. Keep Naomi out of trouble for me, won't you?' he leaned over and kissed her cheek. She grinned and shook his hand in farewell.

'Thanks, JJ. I will,' she stuck her tongue out at Naomi, giggling when she rolled her eyes in reply.

xx

'Naoms,' Emily pleaded. She shook her shoulders roughly, ruffling her hair messily in a vain attempt to wake her. 'Naoms, come on. Wake up already. Naomi.'

Naomi turned over on her stomach, tangling her legs into the blankets pooled around her feet. She pulled at the pillow and buried her head under it, her halfhearted grumbling muffled by the fabric. Emily sighed, exasperated, and ran a hand through her hair in frustration.

'They'll be here any minute, Katie's already gone downstairs for breakfast. I can't give it to you anymore if mum comes up,' she pouted and slipped a foot beneath Naomi's stomach in a a last futile effort to push her off the bed. Naomi's head emerged from underneath the pillow, her cheek nestled warmly against her hand. She opened one eye after the other sleepily and stifled a yawn.

'Why can't I just come with? Then we can spend the day together. It's my day, can't I have what I want for a change?' Naomi smiled blearily. Emily's eyes softened and she lay back down to face her, reaching over to tuck a stray wisp of blonde hair behind an ear.

'Just this once,' Emily promised. 'Then I'll take you with me on vacation. But, not this one. We haven't seen Gran in ages, and she's just come out of the hospital. It wouldn't be fair to lea—'

'I get it, Emsy. Really, its okay,' Naomi rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, threw an arm across her eyes and groaned. 'But what am I going to do for the next eight days, though?'

'You could see JJ,' Emily piped up eagerly. 'I saw him at school the other day. He asked about you. I think,' she swallowed and glanced around her, as if she were afraid someone would hear them. 'I think he likes you.'

Naomi snorted, 'Highly unlikely, Ems. He's got a girlfriend and another baby on the way. Besides, he's definitely not my type.'

'Emily?'

'Shit,' Naomi snarled, throwing off the covers. 'I thought she was loading the car?'

'That was over twenty minutes ago, and you were in bed for fifteen!' Emily leaped off the bed and whirled about, distraught. 'She can't find you here, you'll be in huge trouble.'

'No shit, Sherlock,' Naomi muttered. She ducked her head and glanced beneath the bed. 'I don't think I can fit under your bed anymore, Ems. Any better ideas? And, no—' she said pointedly, cutting Emily off. 'I am not, under any circumstances, hiding in the closet.'

Emily threw her hands up in defeat, 'Why can't you just fade into the background again, or something? Disappear? That's what you always do!'

Naomi glared, 'If I could, I would've already. But not today!' she scratched the back of her head, growing more agitated by the second.

'Emily! Emily, get up, love. Shower up, we'll leave in fifteen—Have you seen my curlers? Are they in your room? Katie says she borrowed them the other day—'

'No,' Emily cried. 'No, mum. She put them back in your room last night, hang on. I'm getting dressed.' The stairs creaked and footsteps padded softly across the hall. Naomi paled with terror and glanced at Emily desperately.

Emily ran across the room and threw open her window, 'There's a pipe, you can hang onto the system for a while. I'll get mum out of the room, fast as anything.' Naomi swung a leg over the ledge and crawled onto the pipe railing beneath the window.

'Emily, you were supposed to be up nearly an hour ago,' her mother chided, nudging the door open with her foot. She held a box of gardening tools in her arms and set them on the desk. 'Your father will need your help a little later at Gran's, he's volunteered to landscape the front yard.'

Emily nodded quickly, 'I'll be down soon, mum. I just,' she grasped at words. 'Need to sort my socks.'

Her eyes narrowed. 'To sort your socks,' she repeated dubiously. She brushed past Emily and headed for the window; Emily's heart thundered in her chest. 'Why leave your windows open, love? All sorts of things can get in. Wouldn't want that now, would we?' she leaned out to peer down at their backyard, almost as if she expected to find a vagrant running across the street, making a mad dash for safety. Emily shut her eyes tightly, prayed Naomi had the sense to tuck herself beneath the ledge. Her mother seemed to find nothing amiss: she pulled the window down a beat later and flipped the latch closed.

'I'll see you downstairs, Em,' she pressed a kiss to her daughter's head and slipped past the door. Emily sighed in relief and ran back to the window, pushing it up and leaning over to call out.

'Naoms,' she whispered loudly. 'Clear.' After much cussing and muttering, Naomi managed to pull herself back onto the ledge, breathing heavily.

'I'd appreciate a little heads up next time, Ems,' she scowled, rubbed feeling back into her aching arms. 'Any longer and I think I would've probably let go.'

Emily had disappeared, but there were sounds of scuffling and the tell-tale metallic tinkle of rummaging in the supply room down the hall. She tiptoed softly back into the room soon enough, a hand behind her back, the other holding a crudely shaped box the size of a fist. It was faded and the corners were bent and battered, but it was clear it had been handmade. Emily held it out to her shyly, the tips of her ears as red as her face.

'Katie says the best gifts aren't store-bought,' she murmured. 'Happy birthday, Naoms.'

Naomi's eyes widened in disbelief; clearly thrown. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, at a loss for words. 'You didn't have to, Emily,' she managed weakly, taking the box gently from her. 'No one's ever—' she coughed, all too aware of the growing lump in her throat. '—No one from my—Has ever—You didn't have to—'

Emily shrugged, 'I wanted to. You deserve it, Naoms. You're my best friend. You make me happy all the time; the least I could do was return the favor.' She twisted a strand of her hair in her fingers, bringing it to her lips, 'Go on, open it. Let me know if you like it.'

Naomi pulled the lid off carefully, setting it on the bedside desk. She pushed a finger against the crepe paper lining the interior and brushed against something relatively tiny, smooth—she gasped: it was a silver-pewter ring, cased in baked clay; careless little fingerprints lined the band at irregular intervals. A skull was set in the middle, a roughly hewn icon with miniscule glass-green beads for eyes. She slipped it through her finger and lifted her hand to examine it.

'It's beautiful, Emily,' she whispered. 'Thank you.'

A slow smile spilled across Emily's features, her eyes bright. 'You'll think of me whenever you wear it?'

'Always,' Naomi promised. She brushed a kiss to the back of Emily's hand softly, as if she were afraid she'd break under her touch. 'I'll wear it everywhere I go.'

Emily beamed and brought out the hand hidden behind her back: she held a tiny, plastic disposable camera—she hastily popped the back-latch loose and inserted a roll of film tucked away in her pocket. She clicked it shut and all but leapt into Naomi's lap, scrambling about for a comfortable position. 'For posterity,' she announced happily.

Naomi knitted her brows together and blanched, 'You want to take a photo of me?'

Emily turned to her and frowned, 'It's your birthday. We always take photos together on our birthdays.'

'But, you're getting older, Emily,' she reasoned weakly. 'And, I don't turn up in any of your photos. I can't help it. What makes you think this time'll be any different?'

'It will be,' Emily insisted. 'You feel different, Naoms. More solid, somehow. More tangerine.'

Naomi tucked her chin against the crook of Emily's neck, 'Tangible, you mean?' Emily nodded eagerly; she sighed. 'It couldn't hurt to try one more time, I suppose,' she grumbled. Emily handed her the camera and she held it before them, tilted at an angle.

She wrapped her free arm around Emily's waist, Emily's hands curled around her wrist. She stuck her tongue out; Emily grinning for all she was worth.

'Say, 'pasteurized dairy product!'' she pressed the button, heard the click indicating the shot. Emily climbed off her and clapped her hands together eagerly.

'I'll have them developed on the way home from school next week,' she said. 'So, we can pick them up after you pick me up.'

'Sounds like a plan, Em,' she chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully and nudged Emily's leg with a sock-covered toe. 'You better get going, though. The sooner you leave, the quicker I'll see you again.'

Emily smiled, her cheeks tinged a warm pink. 'I'll miss you, Naoms.'

Naomi stood up and pulled her in a tight embrace, feeling her little arms circle her waist without meeting at the back. The thought made her smile. 'I'll miss you every second of every day you're not with me,' she raised a hand solemnly. 'I promise.'

'I love you,' Emily said softly, her grip tightening for a beat.

xx

A loud, reverberating crash from the room opposite woke Katie rather roughly. 'Ems?' she cried, flailing around in bed with her eyes half-closed. 'Keep it down!'

She buried her head underneath the pillow, pulling the sheets closer about her. 'Sorry!' Emily yelped from across the hall, her voice sounding strangely muffled. 'I didn't think it'd be so heavy.'

'What are you doing?' Katie called out blearily. She rolled over onto her back and moaned as the sunlight blinded her through the half-drawn curtains of their tiny shared bedroom. 'Emily?'

'Looking for rings in the hall closet,' Emily poked her head through the crack in the door and smiled goofily at her. 'I'm getting married.'

'That's nice,' Katie muttered sleepily, slipping back into a foggy haze. 'Send me an invite.' Emily beamed at her before racing back down the hall. She frowned at the voices in the next room; much too loud, and excited, and carrying. She opened her eyes grudgingly and crawled sluggishly to the edge of the bed, swinging her legs onto the carpeted floor. She took the top sheet with her and padded to her parents' bedroom down the hall, all the while blinking sleep out of her eyes.

She pushed the door open with a foot and peeked in. Naomi raised a brow at her and smirked, 'Good morning, Katie.' She knocked softly on the closet door, 'Ems, your Maid-of-Honor has decided to grace us with her lovely presence.'

'Don't look!' Emily cried, beating on the other side of the closet door. 'I'm going out!' Naomi made a show of clapping her hands over her eyes and sat down on the bed obediently.

'Emily?' Katie gaped at her in surprise. 'What are you wearing?' Emily stepped shyly out of the closet wearing a knee-length white cotton playsuit, and gave a little twirl for her sister's appraisal.

'My wedding gown,' Emily smiled, a faint blush coloring her pale cheeks. 'D'you like it? I've even got rings and everything, I just need—'

'You can't wear that,' Katie cut her off sharply. 'That's mine. Mum bought me that last week at Debenhams. I haven't even worn it yet. Give it back.'

'But I haven't got anything else to wear,' Emily mumbled, looking down at her feet. 'Let me borrow it for today. Only today, Kay. I'll give it back, after I've washed it and everything.'

'No,' Katie said resolutely, spinning on her heels and walking back the way she'd come. 'You're to put it back in my closet now, you can find something else to wear.' She glanced back at her sister absently, ignoring the tears pooling in her eyes. 'Who on earth are you marrying anyway? It better not be that Cook kid—'

Emily made a face and stuck her tongue out defiantly, 'No! James is gross—'

'Boys are gross,' Katie rolled her eyes impatiently. 'So, go on then. Who're you tying the knot with?' she asked with barely concealed curiosity. Emily colored up and shook her head, biting her thumb.

'Me,' Naomi said happily, stumbling to the door behind Emily, her hands still over her eyes. 'We were watching A Wedding Story on the Lifestyle Network and Emily decided she just had to get hitched all of a sudden—'

'Naomi!' Emily hissed, swatting her away embarrassedly.

Katie's brows flew to her hairline, 'You're marrying Naomi?' Naomi nodded cheerfully, Emily groaning beside her. Katie looked down at her feet, feeling troubled all of a sudden. Girls couldn't possibly marry other girls. Nobody did that. It wasn't right. Who would wear the suit? Would they both wear dresses? Would they both be called wives? Would their children have two mums? Katie glanced up at her sister who was still worrying her thumb between her teeth, scuffing her slip-ons against the carpet. 'You can't marry Naomi,' she decided, tilting her chin up stubbornly. 'That's that. Give back my playsuit, please.' She turned her back and walked back to her room.

'Why not?' Emily suddenly shouted, effectively startling both her sister and her impromptu fiancee who chanced a peek from behind her fingers in surprise. 'No peeking!' Emily nearly screamed, turning around swiftly and pummeling Naomi's stomach with her fists.

'Because you're both girls,' Katie said frustratedly, throwing her hands up. 'You can't get married if you're both girls. That's weird. You'd both wear dresses, and you'd both be wives, and you'd both be mums, and both of you can't be in the kitchen at the same time—who'd watch football in the living room with Coke and pizza like dad, then?'

'Nobody's going to watch football, or eat Coke and pizza,' Emily said angrily. 'We're both going to make dinner first, then watch Flubber with our kids—'

'Only a mummy and daddy can have a family!' Katie balled her fists, her temper flaring dangerously. 'You can't have that with Naomi, you can't have that with any girl—'

'I can have a family with whoever I want!' Emily screamed, rushing at her sister and tackling her to the floor. Naomi cried out and surged forward, yanking Emily away from her sister, her arms tight around her waist.

'Emily, stop,' Naomi pleaded, hauling her away roughly. Emily wailed, and flailed, and pummeled the air with her fists and legs, even as Katie got on her knees and started dry-heaving.

'I want to marry you,' Emily sobbed, her face purple with rage. Naomi pushed her hair back from her forehead, now sticky with sweat from her exertions, and kissed her tenderly on the cheek.

'And so you shall, if that's what it takes to make you happy,' Naomi murmured soothingly, running her fingers lightly through her hair.

'She won't let me marry you,' Emily whimpered, wiping her eyes clumsily with the back of her hands.

Naomi nudged her nose with hers, 'She's got no say when it comes to true love.' Her eyes twinkled mischievously and Emily laughed weakly. Katie glared up at her with hate-filled eyes and scrambled to her feet.

'I'm telling mum when she gets home,' she spat. 'I'm not speaking to you the whole day.' She ran back to her room, nearly tripping over her blankets in her haste to lock the door.

Naomi looked down at Emily, 'Well, that was eventful. How 'bout it, then?' she offered her hand and helped Emily to her feet. They went down to the garden together and sat beside the patch of wildflowers growing by the fence. Emily fiddled with a sprig of baby's breath and sniffled quietly.

Naomi plucked it gently from her fingers and tucked it delicately into Emily's hair, promptly pulling out sprig after sprig until she held a tiny bouquet in her hands. 'There,' she smiled. 'You're a downright beauty, you are. The perfect bride.'

Emily's eyes watered, and she lowered the bouquet back onto her lap, 'Mum always said Katie would make the prettier bride because she has dimples—that's what she tells Aunt Grace all the time when they're talking about the shop, they're going to make her a model for their next issue of the wedding magazine. Aunt Grace calls me a homebody.'

'Oh, Emsy,' Naomi said softly, her eyes sad. She tilted her chin up with a finger, 'Don't you know how lovely you are?' She leaned down and whispered conspiratorially, 'Don't tell anyone I told you this, it's a secret—you're my favorite.'

Emily pushed her away, smiling grudgingly. 'You're bassed.'

'Biased,' Naomi corrected, grinning. 'And, maybe. A bit. But, that's a secret, too.' She pulled Emily onto her lap and reached into her pocket. Tucking her head on the curve of Emily's neck, she sighed contentedly, 'Do you, Emily Fitch, come here of your own free will and volition, to bind yourself to me, Naomi Campbell, in marriage?'

'I—I do,' Emily said hesitantly, threading their fingers together.

'Will you honor our bond for as long as you live?'

'I will.'

'Will—' Naomi bit back a laugh, the corner of her lip twitching involuntarily, '—You accept our children from God lovingly, and bring them up according to the Laws of the Catholic Church?'

'Naoms,' Emily turned back to look at her oddly. 'We're Presbyterians.'

'Well, will you?'

'I will, I will,' Emily said hastily. Satisfied, Naomi brought out two nearly identical construction nuts from her pocket, the same ones Emily had gone to all the trouble of finding in the storage tool box down the hall.

'In that case,' Naomi said grandly, brandishing the circular screws with pride. 'I, Naomi Campbell, take you to be my wife. I swear, before God and man today—'

'There aren't any witnesses—'

'Hush,' Naomi tutted. 'There are ants, there are birds, there are microscopic organisms beneath us, and don't even get me started on the Council,' she grumbled. 'That's good enough for me. Where was I?'

'You were swearing,' Emily prompted helpfully.

'—To be true to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health,' she slipped the nut on Emily's tiny ring finger gently. 'I will love and honor you, all the days of my life.' She kissed Emily's fingers once and held them tightly in her own.

'I promise before everyone and God to do everything you just said, too,' Emily said excitedly. She seized Naomi's hand and eagerly jammed on the other half of the nut on her pinky, as it was far too small to fit the other finger.

'We're legally married, now,' Naomi declared wryly. Emily squealed happily and clapped her hands together, swiveling about in Naomi's lap so they faced each other.

'So, kiss me,' Emily grinned. 'Isn't that what married people do all the time? Kiss?' Naomi suddenly looked uncomfortable, glancing everywhere but at her.

'Hypothetically,' she agreed, scratching her nose awkwardly. 'But, I don't think that'd be right, Ems, you know—given our current situation.'

'Why not?' Emily demanded, crossing her arms comically. 'They do it all the time in movies, why can't you—' her face suddenly fell, 'It's because we're both girls, isn't it?'

'It's not that at all,' Naomi laughed, leaning back against the fence. 'It has more to do with the fact that I'm chronologically and perpetually twenty-six, and you're, well, biologically eight. That's a bit awkward, don't you think? And vaguely pedophilic on my end,' she shuddered.

'Oh,' Emily frowned thoughtfully. 'I suppose. Do we shake on it instead, then?' she held out her hand hesitantly. Naomi glanced down at it in amusement.

'That doesn't seem right either,' she said. 'And making up a complicated secret handshake would be even worse, I imagine. Any better ideas?'

Emily suddenly leaned forward, her hands on Naomi's cheeks. Surprised, Naomi jolted backward, the back of her head colliding with the picket fence rather hard. Slowly, gently, Emily touched her nose to Naomi's and nuzzled it carefully before pulling back.

'Mum calls that an Eskimo kiss,' she bit her thumb shyly. 'It's still counts as a kiss in some countries,' she shrugged. Naomi touched the tip of her nose with a hand briefly before leaning forward and brushing theirs together again.

'Now, that's something married couples can do all day,' she laughed, pulling back and wrapping her arms around Emily.

xx

'Aren't you a bit too old for imaginary friends, Emily?'

They strolled hand in hand down the faux-boardwalk, fingers sticky from syrup and candy floss. Naomi breathed shakily, suddenly terrified of broaching the topic, of sending Emily into hysterics. Emily sneezed abruptly, wiping her nose messily on the cuff of her denim jacket. The corners of her mouth were streaked with traces of crystallized sugar and pastry crumbs, her cheeks grown fuller with the passing years. She looked up at her and smiled, 'I'll never be too old for you, Naoms.'

Naomi bought her half a dozen pancakes from a stocky Italian grandfather, with skin the color of olives. Emily watched with ill-disguised awe as the man ladled the batter tantalizingly slowly onto the griddle. He made each one as big as a scooter wheel and thin as silk; he spread them with jelly and folded them twice before handing them over to her on a paper plate.

'Careful, now,' Naomi murmured. 'They're hot.' They ate quietly with their fingers by the sand-dunes; Emily sucked her fingers clean wistfully, and Naomi went and bought her another half a dozen.

'I wish Katie was here,' Emily whispered. 'She would've loved it.'

'Do you wish you'd gone with them, then?' Naomi tilted her head to look at her properly. 'It was quite unfair,' she said sadly.

Emily traced patterns on the sand with a finger, 'I just wish I didn't have to get sick before they left. I've never gone on a plane before. And, I wanted to see Nan. I haven't seen her in ages.'

'You went with them to Surrey last year,' Naomi ventured hesitantly. 'Remember? You mowed down her garden and everything.'

'It isn't the same,' her expression hardened. 'They didn't even bother trying to fuss, to pretend to re-schedule a flight for my sake. Suze—you remember Suze? My cousin, Suze? With the doberman?'

Naomi snorted, 'Bloody thing nearly chewed my leg off, how could I not?'

'Right, well, she gave birth to Luke last month. She promised me I'd get to hold him first, before mum. Or dad. Or Katie, even,' she sifted a handful of sand between her fingers and sighed.

'Katie doesn't have fireworks tonight, though,' Naomi nudged her knee gently with her own and nodded towards the shoreline. A couple of teenagers planted rockets in the sand and ran from them like mad whenever they lit up. Soon, the sky was ablaze in a conflagration of colors—catherine-wheels and streamers spiraling through the inky black sky in a shower of sparks. Emily gripped her hand tightly and grinned at the sight.

'I wish it could be like this, everyday,' she mused, her eyes bright. Naomi let her breath out slowly and closed her eyes.

'You're growing too old, Ems,' she whispered, too quietly for her to hear. 'It's too soon. Too soon.'

xx

Emily had gotten a kite after lunch on her ninth birthday, and subsequently ruined both knees—no less than three hours later.

'Jesus Christ,' Naomi seethed, gingerly peeling off Emily's knee-socks from the raw skin. 'Three minutes. I leave you alone for three fucking minutes and you—' she clenched her teeth and shook her head. 'Fucking hell, Emily Fitch. Why can't you be more careful? I just had to—Oh, God. I think its—Oh, God. It's bleeding. It's bleeding again. Oh, my God.'

'I'm sorry,' Emily bit her lip, not sounding sorry at all. 'I didn't want the string to get cut.'

All the color drained out of Naomi's cheeks as she hastily staunched the bleeding with a kerchief. 'I could've fixed it easily,' she snapped. 'You only had to tell me where you'd lost it: I would've been there in less than a second. You didn't have to run down the goddamn hill and end up like this! What's your mother going to say? What if I hadn't found you quickly enough? What if you'd tumbled down the bloody thing and broken your sorry neck? How do you think that would've made me feel?'

'I can do some things on my own. I don't need to ask your help for everything,' Emily muttered sullenly. 'Besides, nothing else happened. I just tripped. You don't have to overreact all the time—'

Naomi gritted her teeth angrily, 'Yeah? Well, you won't have me all the time anymore anyway. So, don't worry. I'll be out of your hair soon enough, Fitch. You can put a bandage on your own, right? Obviously one of many things you don't need help doing anymore, either. Sorry I even asked.' She swiped a hand viciously through the air before her; a baby-blue box of Nexcare bandages materialized in her fist and she thrust it at her abruptly. 'I'll be by the benches on the other side, if you feel like going home. Then again, you can probably find your own way by now, right?'

She stood up and brushed down her jeans. Emily watched her trudge back up the hill, shoulders hunched and hands deep in her pockets before fading out of sight halfway through. She looked down at her sneakers and wound the kite string tightly around her pinky so tightly it turned purple in seconds.

'Be like that then, you horrible, old git!' Emily cried, glaring at the hill. She untangled the string from her finger and took off down the grassy field again, the wind whistling in her ears and the kite rising higher above her. She slipped twice on gravel afterward, taking a twisted, masochistic pleasure in defying her Keeper in the most inane ways possible.

When the light began to fade, she made her way slowly back up the hill. Her heart thundered hard in her chest; she felt guilty and apprehensive all of a sudden—Naomi was only looking out for her. She was always looking out for her. But, the look she'd caught in those eyes just before she walked away was frightening. She was angry, that much was clear. But, she was also pained. Like, Emily had hurt her physically. And, what she had said, then—

A sharp stab of cold fear erupted in the base of her stomach and she found herself racing up the grassy hillside, slipping every now and then as her sneakers failed to find traction against the slopes. Surely she hadn't meant that at all? It was a joke done in bad taste, obviously. Naomi was angry; naturally, she'd say things she didn't really mean, like she had earlier. She doubled over at the crest, clutching a painful stitch at her side. Panting and completely out of breath, she straightened up and brushed the sweat out of her eyes.

She froze.

The benches were empty.

She scanned the picnic area quickly, turning in place to do a complete circuit but there was no one else in sight. She was completely alone.

'Naomi!' she cried, running to the bench and grasping at the air, as if she half-expected to feel Naomi beneath her fingertips despite her arbitrary invisibility. Panic welled up inside her quickly and she felt tears prick her eyes. Naomi wouldn't leave her, Naomi cared far too much to let her alone. Naomi loved her. But, with each passing minute without a tangible-Naomi in sight, she found it increasingly difficult to believe.

Then again, you can probably find your own way by now, right? She tamped the fear down as best she could and bristled defiantly: if Naomi had left her to fend for herself, then so be it. She would drive a point. She tucked the kite under her arm and wound the string carefully around a plastic spindle before placing it in her pocket, a trick her father had taught her earlier that day. It seemed a lifetime ago as she made her way over to the bus stop briskly, the breeze whipping her hair off her shoulders and into her face. She felt cold, miserable and alone, but mostly indignant—furious at the fact that Naomi had the nerve to leave her after a petty argument.

She stopped in her tracks abruptly: the main road was busy with the buzz and traffic from over a hundred working-men and commuters, all headed home in the evening rush. She fidgeted helplessly by the stop, frightened of taking her chances along the road, never having been taught how to cross the street alone. She glanced up at the stoplight and whispered a feverish prayer of supplication to all the deities she knew to hold the red light a little longer than it normally would. She screwed her eyes tight and took a tentative step forward.

An arm braced against her chest.

Her eyes flew open; Naomi was beside her, arm flung out to stop her. 'You don't cross the street in the last few seconds of a red-light,' she said exasperatedly. 'And, you certainly don't cross the street with your eyes closed. Some things, I think,' she glanced down at Emily with a sad smile. 'You still me need around for, unfortunately.'

Emily blinked rapidly to keep the tears from falling in relief. They stood side-by-side in silence a little longer, waiting for the next red light to roll by. 'Imagine,' Naomi mumbled softly, her brows creased together. 'If you'd crossed the street when you wanted to, earlier? You would've been flattened. Christ.' A truck hurtled past them swiftly, a thousand pounds of steel and cargo, as if to prove a point.

The yield-light blinked. 'Right,' Naomi moved to stand in front of her before dropping to a crouch. 'Up you get,' she looked over her shoulder and winked.

Emily looked appalled, 'What, like, on your back? But,' she swallowed thickly. 'You're, you know, imaginary. What will people see if I get on you?'

She shrugged indifferently, 'Something they want to see to make it easier for them to process. Probably a bum—to them, I'll probably look like a homeless vagrant carrying you off to our next garbage bin dinner raid. Highly likely. You'll never know.' Emily's eyes widened in disbelief. 'I'm kidding,' Naomi rolled her eyes and snickered. 'They'll see me, Ems. Just this once. Now, get on, for Christ's sake. The red light won't hold forever.'

Emily clambered on awkwardly, linking her arms around Naomi's neck. Naomi stood up with ease despite her burden, tucking Emily's legs over her arms on either side of her. She didn't set her down, even after they'd made it across the street. They continued up Brandon Hill quietly, the tension between them thickening substantially with every step.

'I'm sorry,' Emily whispered ashamedly, burying her face in Naomi's hair. 'I didn't mean to say those things to you. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Naoms. I know you were only worried about me. Please don't be angry at me anymore.' Her voice wavered; she tightened her grip and tried not to cry.

'I'm sorry, too,' Naomi sighed. 'I'm sorry I lost my temper like that, and said some pretty bad words nobody should ever have to hear. I'm sorry you had to hear them. I just—I felt sad to be reminded by you, of all people, that you're growing up far too quickly for either of our liking. That the day is fast approaching when you wake up and realize you don't need me anymore.'

'That's never going to happen,' Emily insisted earnestly. 'I'll always want you around, Naoms. Always.'

'But, you won't always need me. They're two different things, Emily. And my terms, well. They only apply to the other.'

Emily paled, 'Did you mean what you said to me earlier, then? About not being around me anymore? About leaving me for good?' She pulled back and braced her hands against Naomi's shoulder-blades; they pulled up short. 'Naomi?'

'You'll always be my little girl, Emily,' she whispered weakly. 'But, you won't always be little. And, there are limits to everything—to time, to age, to place, to child. Emily, you're nine, now, sweetie.' She faltered, closed her eyes to stem the tears threatening to fall. 'Our time's nearly up.'

'No,' Emily shook her head, slowly, then increasingly frantic. 'No. No, no, no, no!' she struggled against Naomi's hold and kicked herself free. Naomi whirled about to catch her, but a fist connected with her stomach, then her shoulders, her chest; every bit of her that Emily could get her hands on. 'You promised you'd stay with me! You promised, Naomi. This isn't fair! You said always, you promised. You promised!' she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. She pounded Naomi relentlessly, 'You lied to me! You lied! You said you loved me—'

'I do love you, Emily,' Naomi pleaded. 'I never lied about that, I never lied about anything—please let me explain—'

'—So, why are you leaving me? If you loved me, you wouldn't go. You wouldn't leave me with them. Don't you want me anymore? Are you tired of me? I'm sorry, Naoms,' she sobbed, her arms going limp against Naomi's chest. 'I won't be annoying anymore, and I'll listen to everything you say, and—'

'Emily,' she whispered, dropping to her knees so they were level with each other. 'I love you. And, if I had any say in all this, I would choose to be with you forever. I swear it. But,' a tear traced down her cheek as she took Emily's little hands in hers, felt them tremble in her grasp. 'I don't.'

'I hate you,' Emily said quietly, her voice hard. 'I hate you! Fine, I don't ever want to see you again! Go away, then! Go on, go away! Go!' she shoved Naomi backward with all the strength she could muster. 'I don't want you anymore! I hate you!'

Startled, Naomi landed backward, her hand barely managing to brace her fall. 'Emily—' But, Emily flew down the sidewalk towards her home, slamming the door shut behind her so hard she heard it up along the street. She closed her eyes and thought of Emily—her sweet, cheery, thoughtful, little Emily—lying curled up in her bed all alone, sobbing her heart out. Her faith broken, one too many times.

xx

'Tomorrow,' she said quietly, twisting the ring on her finger agitatedly. 'I promised Them tomorrow.'

'Emily took it hard, then?' JJ looked sympathetic. He swirled the can and took a long swig before offering it to her, 'Cherry Coke?'

She shook her head, 'They all take it hard. Ending it—It's never easy. I hate saying goodbye.' She ran a hand through her hair. 'You should've seen the way she looked at me, Jay; like, she wasn't my Emily anymore. She ran from me.'

'She's nice, though. Give her some credit. Remember mine, three cycles ago? The feisty little socialite in Fulham? She clubbed me on the head with her mother's Jimmy Choos—they were stiletto heels!' he grumbled. He rubbed the back of his head, as if the memory pained him. 'She'll get over it,' he said kindly. 'They always do. They can't help it. They promise, of course. Swear they won't forget; cherish the memories. But, they do. It's not their fault, obviously—some things are more important than others, and sometimes, old memories give way to accommodate newer ones. That's the way things have worked, at least, for as long as we can remember. She'll be okay.'

'Will she?' she mumbled wistfully. 'She still needs someone to look after her.' She crossed her arms and brought her knees up, curling in on herself. 'Someone needs to look after my Emily.'

'I'd offer,' he said sadly. 'But, you know the rules. Hands-off, no interference after disconnection. It'll be kinder, for you both. You'll see. I just didn't think—' he trailed off and bit his lip.

She looked up at him sharply, 'Didn't think what, Jay?' He swallowed with difficulty, stumbling over his words carefully, cautiously.

'I just didn't think you'd grow so attached. I mean, we all do, yeah? But, we accept the terms as they come, and when we need to leave, we just do. No regrets, no backward glances, no tears. And, you of all people, well. It was always easier for you, then.' He shifted uncomfortably and scratched the tip of his nose. 'I mean, no offense, or anything.'

'None taken,' she sighed heavily. 'It's just that—She's different, Jay. If you'd taken her instead, you'd know what I'm talking about. If I had a choice, I wouldn't leave her. Her sister, Katie—She'll grow up with a streak a mile long, that one. With a reputation and attitude to match, pound for pound. 'Course, being the elder twin, it would be easier to trust her with Emsy, you know? She's always been stronger, always more willful. Emily sort of slips in behind her, if you could see them, you'd be able to tell. It's like, she—'

'Hides in her shadow? Oh, everyone can see that. I see them everyday, remember?' he rummaged in his pocket and unwrapped a sweet fussily. 'Lemon drop?' he offered.

'She doesn't know her own worth, yet. She's an unlit fuse, waiting for something—anything—to spark her into existence,' she peeled the sticky sweet off the plastic wrap and stuck it on the tip of her finger, waved it around. 'She'll be the best of them all, just you wait.' She popped it in her mouth and bit it in half. 'I need to say goodbye, first. Properly.'

'I thought she didn't want to see you?' he frowned. 'And, you don't bite into those. They're meant to be savored slowly.'

'It doesn't matter. I need to see her one last time. I ruined her birthday,' she stood up from the bench. 'I need to apologize for a lot of things, Jay.'

'You don't need to be sorry for anything,' he argued plaintively. 'She knew you were temporary. You were borrowed. You've got a return date stamped across your arse. You were supposed to be gone on the eve of her eighth, but you asked for an extension. You're way overdue, Campbell. The Council isn't exactly, well, pleased. The longer you drag out the farewells, the more difficult it'll be.'

'Then let it be difficult!' she cried. 'It's my heart I'm breaking here, right? Mine on the line—not yours, not Theirs. I don't expect you to understand, Jones. You didn't love her like I did. You never loved anyone at all.'

'That isn't true,' he flinched, clearly stung. 'I've got Lara, and little Albert—'

'You know what I'm talking about,' she said impatiently. 'Emily's all I've got, and I—'

'For now!' he shouted angrily. 'You'll cycle through again! She won't be the last, no matter how much you want her to be. There'll be a thousand more after her, and a thousand more after them. That's the way our shit works, Campbell. You think I didn't plead for Cassie in my last cycle? She meant the world to me, too,' his eyes blazed. 'I begged, Campbell. I cried before Them, I asked for a loophole—anything. I degraded myself in every way possible to keep her, but they wouldn't listen. They never do. You know that. She needed me to look after her, I wanted to give her the strength to pull through. She died six months ago. It was a complication of the cancer, they said. But, I knew better. I'd broken her heart, and she never recovered. She was only six, Naomi,' he wiped his eyes furiously, his cheeks red.

'She had her whole life ahead of her, and I couldn't do a thing to save her. You're not the only one, Campbell. If you think this is unfair, well, I'm fucking sorry to disappoint you, but welcome to the goddamn club. Shit happens. Deal with it.' He brushed past her roughly and stalked off.

He glanced back over his shoulder, 'They told me to tell you that you have until six, tomorrow evening.' He slammed his fist against the chain-link fence on his way out and dissolved into the breeze.

xx

Emily sat bolt upright as the bed dipped beside her.

'Hush, Emsy,' Naomi murmured against her hair. 'Do you want Katie to hear?'

She furrowed her brows and blinked, 'Naoms? Where are you? I can't see you—' Naomi materialized beside her, arms wrapped comfortingly around her. She swallowed back a fresh wave of tears, 'I thought you'd gone. You didn't come back for me last night.' She threw her arms around her neck and buried her face against her chest. 'I'm sorry I was so mean to you. I'm so sorry,' Naomi felt her smile weakly against her skin. 'I knew you'd come back. I knew you'd stay. I prayed for you last night. Katie and I, we prayed for you.'

Naomi threw her head back and blinked back tears, touched the tip of her nose to Emily's temple, the only bit of her she could reach this close. 'Put some clothes on, Emsy. Let's go out. Just you and me.' She pulled back and smiled at her, her lip quivering.

Emily jumped up quickly and paced softly through the room, careful not to wake Katie as she pulled open her drawers. 'But, Naoms,' she frowned in realization. 'It's a Thursday. I've got classes today.'

'Screw classes,' Naomi reached for her and drew her into her arms. 'Just this once, I mean. Just for today. Go on, take a shower. Don't bother about breakfast, I'll take care of that. Meet me downstairs by the bus-stop in twenty.' Emily kissed her cheek swiftly and barely managed to stifle a squeal of excitement as she barreled out the door.

Fifteen minutes later, Naomi looked up to see Emily running pell-mell towards her, arms swinging wildly and half her coat dangling from a shoulder. She was trying to wind a scarf about her neck single-handedly, while the other hand was preoccupied with lugging her lunch box about clumsily. She was out of breath by the time she drew up short, bracing her arms against Naomi's stomach to steady herself.

'You look wonderful,' Naomi laughed, helping her shrug into the coat properly. 'Like something the cat dragged in.' She pulled the scarf snugly about her neck and reached into her pockets. 'Here,' she brought out a pair of brown leather gloves. 'You can put these on.' She dangled one in front of her by the finger and held it out. 'It'll be cold where we're going.'

Emily took them reverently, and ran her fingers over the textured leather. 'Mum says leather's ridiculously expensive. She's always pestering dad for a handbag, but he says that's too presumptuous of her to ask of him, especially since he thinks he might lose the gym soon.' She pulled on its leather fingers and looked up at her sadly, 'But they won't fit, Naoms. They're your size.'

'What, and your little fingers can't compensate for the ridiculous amount of space left behind by my freakishly long ones in comparison?' Naomi raised a brow and chuckled. 'Put them on, Emsy. Go on. They'll fit you too, you'll see.'

Emily pulled them on hesitantly, tugging the leather over her wrists. Her eyes widened when the tips of the gloves moulded around hers perfectly. 'How did—How d'you that?' she asked incredulously.

Naomi shrugged, 'One of many things I can do for you. One of many things that make me irrefutably perfect.' She laughed when Emily's fist connected with her stomach in jest. 'I can also do this, by the way. Don't tell your mum now, or she'll never let me go.' She glanced down the empty street and whistled. Emily flew back in shock as a diamond-white coupe raced towards them from out of thin air, stopping smoothly in front of Naomi.

Naomi whistled appreciatively, 'Oh, back then, the best I could do was a Prius. Christ, she's beautiful.' She pulled open the door and gestured for Emily to get in the passenger seat. Emily blinked in shock.

'You want me to—ride shotgun?'

Naomi looked at her quizzically, 'You've never?' Emily shook her head. Naomi grinned widely, 'There's a first for everything, then. Up you get, sweetie.' She strapped herself in quickly, smoothing her palms down the upholstery of her seat appreciatively.

Naomi got in beside her and whistled again as she ran a hand down the console, while the other gripped the steering wheel. Her face contained barely concealed joy, 'Oh, Emsy,' she muttered breathlessly. 'It's a CL65 AMG Coupe.' She glanced at Emily eagerly, only to find her staring back blankly.

'A what?'

She frowned, gesturing with her hands slowly, 'You know, its—er—fast? 'Cause, its, like, AMG? You know, the racing division? It's a Mercedez!' she said excitedly. 'It's got leather upholstered seats, and a five-speed shift transmission, and Advanced Parking Guidance, and a media interface, and—' she trailed off at the sight of Emily's brows creased together in confusion. '—And, its—It's just a wickedly fancy car,' she sighed, grumbling. Emily giggled at her tone and adjusted her lunch-box in her lap.

'It's a really nice car, Naoms,' she said. Naomi nodded eagerly in agreement. 'So, where are we going, exactly?'

Naomi shrugged, starting the engine up casually. 'Somewhere,' she said, feigning nonchalance.

'Like, New York?' Emily asked skeptically, crossing her arms over her seat belt. 'That's a somewhere.'

'Anywhere,' Naomi winked mischievously. 'Although, I've got something a lot better in mind.'

xx

In all honesty, they only drifted through Harrods for the better part of twenty minutes, until Emily lost interest completely. But, the look on her face made up for all the times Naomi swore up and down trying to find her in the thick crowds.

'So,' Naomi's lip twitched. 'Do you feel a sudden urge to, oh, I don't know, lapse into an uncontrollable fit of madness and start throwing things through glass shelves?'

Emily grinned at the memory and stuck her tongue out, 'No, not really. I do, however, feel a strange stirring in the depths of my gut.'

'Oh?' she lifted a brow amusedly. 'It wouldn't happen to be gas now, would it?'

'No,' Emily continued, mock-seriously. 'It might be a serious case of Disinterest. Keep off, Naoms. It might be terminal.'

Naomi laughed until tears traced down her cheeks, 'I think I'll take my chances, yeah? My immune system's in top-notch condition.' She glanced about until her gaze landed on a calf-skin handbag a ways off behind Emily. Her brows lifted appreciatively and she nodded to Emily, grinning at the look of comprehension reflected back at her. She led them towards it and stood on the tips of her toes to read the fine print on the label out loud.

'One-hundred-percent genuine calf-skin leather; Swarovski diamond. Made in Italy. Special Care Instructions: Hand-wash,' she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. 'If it looks like a genuine Louis Vuitton handbag, smells like a genuine Louis Vuitton handbag, is priced like a genuine Louis Vuitton handbag, then therefore, logic dictates that it must indeed be—?'

'A genuine Louis Vuitton handbag,' Emily finished with ill-disguised awe. 'Oh, mum is going to flip if she ever finds out I was within touching distance of one of these things. Why do people want these anyway? When it all comes down to it, they're all just bags. Fancy bags, but, you know. Still bags.'

Naomi shrugged dismissively, 'Beats me, Ems. Could be a hobby, maybe. Like, you know, when people collect stamps, or, I don't know, teeth from dead U.S. Presidents, or something. Now, if you ask me, the only thing I want to do with one of these things anyway is provide substantial proof of our little road-trip. Shall we?' She held up Emily's disposable camera and tossed it from hand to hand. Emily smiled brightly, her eyes twinkling with merriment.

'Will I see you when I get them developed?' she asked hesitantly, feeling rather shy and uneasy all of a sudden. Naomi waved her concerns away faux-haughtily.

'Tut, tut, 'course you'll see me. I want to be in this one, too, you know. Besides, I think They'll be lenient,' she glanced upward quickly. 'Just this once.' She crouched down and held out her arms, pretended to stagger back when Emily threw herself into them excitedly. She carried her properly with an arm, while the other held the camera away from them. She stepped back once or twice, trying to find an angle to accommodate the handbag behind them.

'Right,' she muttered. 'That should probably—Right. This one's a keeper, I can tell. Say when, Emsy.'

'Say, 'pasteurized dairy product!'' the shutter clicked a few times, and Emily struggled not to laugh out loud at the faces Naomi was making in her direction.

Naomi shoved the camera back into her coat pocket, refusing to relinquish her hold on the little burden in her arms, which Emily was only too happy about. 'So,' she said, as they made their way out of the store and into the frosty streets of Londontown. 'Where to, sweetie?'

Emily tightened her grip around Naomi's neck as she swiveled about to look. Her eyes lit up and she pointed—with all the energy of a marooned sailor who'd spotted a ship—across a store at the far end of the road to their immediate left. Naomi groaned.

'Pret a Manger? You can't be serious.'

'Chocolate muffins!' Emily squealed with pleasure.

xx

'This isn't home yet, Naoms,' Emily peered out the power windows and glanced back at her doubtfully.

'I know, we have to stop here though, I'm afraid,' Naomi looked at her sheepishly. 'I don't know what your neighbors would think if a Mercedez dropped you off at the doorstep, all casual-like. They might tell your parents, and I don't want to get you into heaps of unnecessary trouble after we'd had such a lovely day.' She chanced a glance at the analog clock by the console and bit back a curse: five thirty-eight.

'Oh, right,' Emily bit her thumb. 'I've had such a lovely day,' she said dreamily. 'London is amazing, Naoms. Can we go back again sometime? We can take Katie on the Eye again, and show her around Camden Town, and 'course she'll see Big Ben, like she's always wanted to, and have her photo taken with the Buckingham guards, and take the tube to Battersea to see the Power Station, and we can show her how to jump the chain—' She prattled on, oblivious to Naomi's silence as they stepped out onto the road. As soon as her feet touched the pavement, the coupe behind her vanished into nothing. Naomi reached down to take her hand, threading their fingers together.

'Emily,' Naomi cut her off gently. 'Can I see the photos we took today? Please?' She dug around in her lunch box and fished out a packet. Naomi dropped to a crouch and tugged her back, pulling on her hand. Emily took the hint and clambered on her back easily, lacing her fingers at Naomi's throat as carefully as possible while holding onto the photos. She tucked her chin against the curve of Naomi's shoulder as she shuffled through the shots they'd taken.

'This is my favorite,' she said, she smiled fondly and snuggled closer. Naomi ran her fingers over the glossy print—across Emily frozen mid-laugh, stripes and streaks of chocolate all over her mouth, her fists clutching a take-away paper bag from Pret a Manger while she carried her with both arms, leaning casually against a ticket-meter, the Thames behind them—and choked back a sob.

'It's mine, too,' she managed thickly. 'I like it a lot.' Her voice dropped to a whisper; Emily must have cottoned on to her growing disquiet because she pressed her palms against Naomi's cheeks gently.

'You can keep it, Naoms. I've got the film roll, after all. I can always print another one,' she said softly.

Naomi nodded, 'Thanks, Emsy.' She slipped it inside her coat pocket and pulled her arms tighter about her neck. Tried not to notice the time on Emily's neon-pink wristwatch. They made their way home in silence; Emily noticing halfway through that the quiet that permeated the air was born out of something else entirely. There were layers of clothes and a thousand miles in between them. Naomi slowed to a stop by the mailbox, her shoulders slumped, her steps grown heavy. All of a sudden, Emily had a sudden sense of forbidding terror; a force that compelled her to stay.

For once, she didn't want to go back inside.

'Emily,' Naomi whispered, and Emily caught the tremble in her voice. 'Go on upstairs.' She bent back and lowered her gently to the pavement, disentangling their fingers. 'Go on.'

'No, I'll wait. We can go together, we can tell Katie stories about today. We can—'

'Emily, please,' she sounded pained, her voice wavering. Emily's brows crumpled together: that was how she sounded, right before she started to cry. She reached out to hold onto her hand, but Naomi shook her head, shoved her hand back in her pocket. 'Please. Your parents might get home early, and if they catch you out here at this time of night, they'll ask questions you don't want to answer. Give Katie the muffin you brought home for her.'

'So, go on up with me,' she said insistently. 'Why won't you? Why can't we go together?'

Naomi closed her eyes, her lip trembling. When she opened them again, they blazed with a pale fire; the same one Emily had seen that day at the docks.

'Please. For me.'

Emily stepped back, the weight of authority in Naomi's voice was evident, but it was laced with something else—something almost akin to sorrow, though that couldn't be right—and she knew better than to argue. Naomi shifted restlessly, her heart pounding double-time.

Five fifty-seven.

'Alright,' Emily said quietly, slinging her lunch box over a shoulder. She sounded uncertain, and frightened. 'I'll—I'll see you upstairs, alright? You can come in through the window, like always. In case mum comes home before you do, I mean. Or, you can, you know, just pop out of nowhere. I won't mind. I won't be scared anymore. I promise.' She cast her gaze downward when Naomi offered nothing in reply, and turned back towards the front door.

'Emily, wait—' Naomi's hand shot out and gripped her tightly at the wrist. She whirled back in surprise, Naomi sank to her knees before her and took her hands tightly in her own. 'You have to remember everything I told you, Emily Fitch. Everything. Everything I ever said to you about being more important than you think you are; about being more talented than people say you are; about being more beautiful than people think you to be; about being anyone you want to be; about being the most special person in the entire planet; about not forgetting who you are as a person; about staying the way you are, no matter what happens, no matter what anyone says; about knowing your worth; about striving to reach your dreams, no matter the cost; about not letting people put you down, letting them get to you when they talk bad about you. You won't forget, you swear to me now, you won't forget.' Her hands shook, and she trembled with the effort of keeping her tears at bay. But, she leveled her gaze, daring her—as she once did, once upon a time—to look away. Emily looked confused, the fear growing in her eyes.

'Naoms, I don't—'

'Swear to me, now. Please. Promise me. Please, promise me.'

'I—I promise,' Emily paled. 'Naomi, you aren't—'

'I love you, Emily Fitch. Do you understand? Do you hear me? I love you. And, you can think anything of me afterward; say anything about me, against me; swear at me half the time; question the existence of the universe, your very existence, everything you ever believed in, but, Emily Fitch, I love you. And never—never, ever, no matter what happens—doubt that. Time will change many things, Emily Fitch, but not my love. It will not waver, it will not diminish. This I promise you. It doesn't matter if you forget, or if you refuse to believe in it—'

Fifty-eight. Fifty-seven. Fifty-six.

'—But, never doubt it. Do you understand, Emily? Never doubt it. I have never cared for anyone the way I cared for you, and I don't think I will, in the same way, for anyone, ever again. You'll go places, Fitch. Places—'

Thirty-nine. Thirty-eight. Thirty-seven.

'—I believe in you. I've always believed in you. Listen to me,' she was frantic now, fighting for time. 'If you want to, everything you want to keep from me, of me, hide it under your pillow tonight. Alright? You understand, Emily? Hide it under your pillow. They'll take everything, Emily. Destroy everything that had to do with me; it'll be like I never existed. But, it's a secret, alright? Keep it under your pillow. So, you'll know—That I was real. That we were real. Alright?' She was breathless. A tear slipped down her cheek, but Emily failed to notice it in her distress.

'Naoms, why're you telling me this? Why do you sound like you're—' she clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes brimming almost immediately. 'No, please, you wouldn't—Naomi, please—No—'

Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven. Twenty-six.

'Go on, Ems. Please,' she said gently. 'Trust me. It'll be okay. Alright? Go on upstairs. Katie's waiting for you, I can hear her from here. Please. For me.'

Emily bounded forward, leaping towards her. She caught her mid-stride, and held her close, pulled her tight. 'Don't go, Naoms. Don't go, alright? Not yet, please. You'll stay with me, won't you? You just need time to think, right? I'll wait, Naoms. I'll wait for you upstairs. You'll go, you'll talk to Katie, too, won't you, Naoms? You promise?' she tightened her grip, and pulled back to look at her, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Naomi pulled away carefully and struggled for words. 'I—I promise, Emsy. I promise.' Emily smiled shakily, thoroughly put at ease by the assurance in her tone. She brushed the tears from her cheeks and laughed nervously in relief.

'Don't be too long,' she leaned up and kissed her on the cheek before racing up the driveway, towards the front door.

Five.

Emily slammed the front door shut behind her, the faint sound of her little feet pattering against the wooden floorboards drifted through the air.

Three.

A fierce, blustery wind howled through the air suddenly—Kent Regis from the six-o'clock news on Channel Eight pulled his coat tighter about him, warning viewers about an impending mid-season monsoon wind brought about by the sudden changes in the north-Atlantic currents.

One.

She didn't look back.

---

Let me know what you think! I'd really appreciate feedback—let me know if you love it, hate it, are confused by it, think it belongs in the bin, feel like buying it dinner. I'd also like to hear whether or not you think it's worth pursuing; the idea came to me rather abruptly sometime last October, and I wrote it down in a near-frenzy sometime November, so I'm not really that confident about it, to be honest.

Thank you, darlings! Much love. x