A/N:

Alright, a couple of warnings before I begin. One for... sensitive subject matter, I guess? I don't really think there's anything that will offend anyone, but in the spirit of full disclosure I warn you that there's the mention of death and a death certificate - none of which is graphic. Secondly a warning of the smut variety. But, perhaps not the smut that you lot may be wanting. This is an official hetero smut warning. Now, before you continue a third and final warning. I do *not* write smut. I never have and I find the whole thing to be weird. Not because I'm uncomfortable with sex but because I struggle with descriptive writing - something that is a bit vital to smut. So if you're looking for some high quality smut, allow me to direct you to the likes of mynameislizzie, garden-nomes or hypes and the slew of others that do this far better than I do.

Up next: Katie finds herself in quite the pickle. Naomi tries to forget the pickle. Emily contemplates the pickle that is Naomi. And Effy? Well, she enjoys herself a rather large pickle.


Katie's POV - Grayson's

"For fuck's sake," I mumble as I rifle through the small wardrobe containing Emily's clothes. Scowling, I put on the recently pressed school uniform taking care to tuck the blouse into the skirt just as my sister would. After styling (and really, I use the word rather generously – this is Emily we're talking about) my hair into a ponytail I inspect my reflection in the mirror. Not bad...

Making my way towards the dining hall, I smile at the passing girls who greet me along the way whilst rolling my eyes internally. When I brought up the idea of pulling a Fitch Switch I was in such a desperate state of mind, I really hadn't considered all that it would entail. Primarily how hard it would be to "play" Emily. She throws about smiles and general niceties on the regular. And it's just not my way - it's not at all who I am. I mean, why waste the energy... why put effort into people who don't matter? And therein lies our biggest differences I suppose.

It all seemed so much easier when we were kids. She was so much easier in those days... more pliable. She was my ever constant shadow following me about and more importantly listening to me. She's changed though. Like she's grown a backbone or something. In fact if it didn't impact me so much I might even be impressed.

I'm not sure when it happened really. Her changing I mean. I suppose when she came out? I don't know... it all seems like such a long time ago. Somewhere along the way, she stopped depending on me – stopped needing me. Now it's like she has this whole different life, a life apart from me. I continue along the corridor, adjusting my jumper at the shiver that takes hold of me. Don't be stupid, Katie – you could never be apart from her, not really. She'd never abandon you.

Finding myself in the dining hall, I find Presley and Lexie at our old table and settle in Emily's usual spot. The girls are already tucking into their breakfast and discussing the latest in the Grayson's gossip mill.

"I'm still not sure I believe it," Presley says as she smiles to me in greeting. "What do you think Ems?"

Prepare my BAFTA... "About what?" I ask returning her smile before taking a sip of the orange juice she offers me.

Lexie shakes her head incredulously, "...about Miss Wick and Miss Clarke... you know...?" she finishes with a pointed look.

"Eww... you can't mean they..." I falter, "I mean they're so... old."

A scrunched up look occupies Lexie's face. "Not to mention, you know... the obvious," she says pointedly. "So gross. I mean, is it even appropriate for them to be teaching at a girls' school?"

Interesting. Didn't peg Lexie as a bigot. I wonder if Emily knows this about her friend. They never did seem that close – but still, Lexie's definitely in her circle of friends. Presley has gone noticeably quiet, quickly shoving a large fork full of sausage into her mouth. Heh. Gotta love the irony there. Okay, Katie, focus. How would Emily respond?

"Bit archaic, don't you think?"

"What do you mean?" Lexie asks with furrowed brows.

Chancing a glance at Presley, I continue using Emily's 'teacher voice.' "Your way of thinking, it's so-"

I am interrupted by a look of dawning on Lexie's face. "Shit, Presley - I'm sorry! I'm such a shit friend. I totally forgot about all the rumors about you. Well, there's really no need to worry - no one actually believes anything that Katie said. No one thinks you're a lesbian."

Presley's face cringes at the word. "Right... well, good," she says whilst getting up from the table. "Listen, I still have to get my books before class, I'll see you guys in a bit."

I'm immediately torn between going after Presley to see if she's okay or laying into Lexie. I can easily see Emily doing either, but the nurturer in her would probably go check on Presley. I settle on throwing a disapproving look at Lexie before going after the blonde that fucked my life to bits.

I find her crying into the pillows on her bed. Ugh, I really fucking hate tears. I linger at the door before closing it with a little more force than I intend to. Presley looks up from her pillows, and smiles sadly at me. I grab a box of tissues from a side table and hand them to her.

"Is this how it is, Ems?" she says motioning her head towards the door.

I sit down next to her and sigh. "Not all the time, no."

Presley wipes her face with the tissues and shakes her head. "I don't know how you did it... how you do it. How you're so brave."

Huh. Yeah, she is, isn't she? Brave. More than I'll ever be anyway. I can't help but feel a bit of pride for Ems, and smile. "Well, it's not easy – not with people like Lexie-"

"And Katie," she deadpans wiping a tear away furiously.

"I'm not-" I stop myself and take a breath. "Katie doesn't see me the way Lexie does... she doesn't feel that way."

"How can you say that? After all she's done?" she questions.

I push myself off the bed and turn my back to her. "It's hard to explain, okay?"

After several moments of silence I hear her walk towards me and entwine her fingers into mine, spinning me around to face her.

"Ems, I don't want to fight about this again. I promised you I would try – really, try – to be understanding about your sister. I guess it's just harder than I thought it would be." She moves her hands around my waist and pulls me closer to her. "I'll try harder, okay?" she says with a smile. I then find myself against her fully as she leaves a chaste kiss on my lips . Uh, right.

I take a step back. "Well, good, I'm glad. We should head to class though," I say nodding towards the door, "we don't want to be late."

Presley must not approve of my newly gained distance and moves towards me with a predatory smile, "We have a few minutes..." she says as she presses me into the wall, hands on either side of me before shoving her tongue down my throat.


Naomi's POV - Delfino House

"What's the worst that can happen?" Effy asks with a cheeky glint in her eyes as we enter the group room which has quickly been appropriated as our sort of hideaway.

Now, whilst it's true I don't remember much of what happened the other night when I had my fit or whatever, I am very plainly aware that it bares consequences. Up until this point, I've tried to push it out of my mind. Unfortunately, like everything else that I try to ignore or forget, it all seems to come around, doesn't it? I haven't any idea of what form said consequences will take, but I can freely admit, it's not something I'm looking forward to finding out. But find out I will at today's appointment with Delfino's answer to Freud.

"That's precisely what I'd like to know," I answer zipping up my hoodie and sitting down on the floor against the wall, legs stretched out before me.

Effy sits next to me, her bony knee pressing into my thigh. "You really want to know?"

I roll my eyes spectacularly in answer. Sometimes she can be exhausting. For once I would love for her to answer a question directly.

"Simmer down Campbell – just give me a minute, alright?"

"I didn't realize I'd asked a particularly difficult question. What's there to think about?"

Effy regards me with amusement. "If you must know I'm working out possible outcomes. You want to know the worst that can happen, right? Well, gimme a sec."

I grumble a 'fine' and curl and flex my toes in boredom. After several minutes of attempting to bend my big toe without bending the others – and failing miserably – I feel Effy elbow me in the ribs.

"Do I really inspire so much violence in others that everyone sees fit to batter me?"

"Oh, is someone else violating you?" Effy asks with a quirked eyebrow. "I'm jealous," she pouts.

"Fuck off, Eff," I say as I rub my side.

She smiles a knowing smile before shaking her head at my eye rolling. I open my mouth to fend off any coming accusations before she raises her hand silently halting me. "They'll be time to discuss that little gem, but first things first – your appointment with Foster."

I sigh with the overwhelming feeling that I won't like what she has to say.


"Naomi, how are you feeling today?"

I swing my legs below me on the leather chair across from Dr. Foster. "To be honest, Doc I've been feeling rather tired lately."

Foster nods as takes down a note in his book. "What do you think is making you so tired?"

"Welllll... if it's not all the sex then it must be the drugs. Hard to say, really."

He chuckles freely and points his pen at me. "I'm glad to see you're in such a playful mood today. It suits you. Now, if I might steer the conversation to a bit more of a serious note?"

"If you must."

Foster smiles. "Can you tell me about what happened during the film last week?"

I don't trust easily – I think that much is clear by now – but I've found myself trusting fully in the enigmatic brunette I met just a short week ago. She knows Delfino House as well as anyone can, I suspect, and so I'll do exactly as she urged me to do today.

"I was a bit stressed, I think," I answer before hastily adding, "but I feel better now."

The doctor nods before asking, "Has anything like this episode happened before? This... 'stress'?"

A deep sigh escapes, "Not like that, no."

"Naomi, I wonder if you would share with me what led up to that moment?"

When his answer is met with silence he continues. "You don't trust me yet, Naomi, I understand that. You don't know me and you're expected to share deeply personal things with me. It must be difficult."

"And yet you continue prying into my business..."

"Quite right. I would be a pretty lousy psychiatrist if I didn't though, wouldn't I?"

"So being nosy is all part of the job, eh?"

He smiles, "An occupational hazard, I'm afraid."

I nod and look out the window across the room. It's a rather pretty day out. When my gaze returns to the doctor he has a finger on his chin.

"Naomi, I wonder if you'd like to play a game with me?"

Oh God, is this the part where he whips out his schlong and asks to play 'hide the pickle'? My face must reflect my abject disgust as he clears his throat and continues.

"For every question you answer, you may ask me one. What do you think?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "I can ask you anything and you'll answer honestly?"

"That's correct. My only stipulation is that it works both ways - you must answer my questions honestly. Do we have a deal?" He asks with an outstretched hand.

I suppose if I have to talk to him, I might as well get something out of it in return. "Fine," I say as I shake his hand once and lean back into the chair looking at him expectantly.

"Who is Sophia Moore?"

Well, shit. Right for the 'nads, huh? "The fact that you're asking me this question, that you even know her name at all shows me that you know exactly who she is... who she was."

"Naomi, I'm happy to share everything I know about Sophia if that's the question you'd like to ask me, but as we agreed just a minute ago, you must answer the question before you may ask me one."

I cross my arms, looking at the coffee table separating us. "She's just a girl I met last Summer. We hung out for a bit. She died. End of."

"Come now, Naomi – you can do better than that. You promised to be honest."

I clench my teeth and take a deep breath. "We met at an Open Day. She was different... honest. We became friends I guess," I shrug. "She... she wanted more. From me, you know? But, it wasn't like that – not really."

"Surely there's more?"

"Perhaps there is, but I've already answered your question. I believe it's my turn now."

"So it is," he motions for me to continue, "What would you like to know, Naomi?"

"Tell me everything you know about Sophia," I say simply.

"Well, there's quite a lot. Most of my information comes from what I've gathered from the police file and from what your mother has shared. Of course, I think the one person who could really tell me about Sophia is you."

"You. Didn't. Answer. The. Question." I all but growl.

Doctor Foster gets up from his chair and walks over to a large cabinet, removing a key from somewhere on his desk. Sliding open the drawer, he rifles through several hanging files before pulling out several official-looking kraft ones. He carries the bundle to a table situated near the window and motions for me to sit in the chair in front of it.

As I sit down, he takes the chair next to me and flips open the first file. I blink as I stare directly into her eyes. A 5x7 photograph is paper-clipped to the inside panel of the file. She's in her uniform, wearing an expression that is all too Sophia-like. This is the first time I've seen her since that night. I took great care to avoid the newspaper articles and memorials all throughout college those following weeks. Seeing her here, in a file, just staring back at me like everything is okay is just... wrong. So wrong. I unclasp the photograph and allow myself to look at it one last time before I return it to the file intentionally clipping it backwards. I focus my attention to the first page of the file. Her death certificate. I blink back tears that threaten to fall from my traitorous eyes, before flipping to the next page.


Effy's POV – Delfino House

The restroom nearest the common room has seen better days, somehow escaping the mass renovations Delfino underwent several years ago. Both residents and staff alike avoid the room favoring the modern furnishings found elsewhere throughout the estate. Some even claim it's haunted – no doubt perpetuated by the ever gullible Josie. Nevertheless, it suits my needs just fine.

I close the door behind me and quirk an eyebrow at the eager boy standing in front of me with his patented shit eating grin.

"Don't look so pleased with yourself," I say as I grab onto the collar of his shirt, pulling him forcefully into me, our lips crashing together. He invades my mouth with his dominating tongue as he grabs the back of my neck, deepening our kiss. Using his other hand, he lifts up my shirt to roughly palm my tit. I moan into his mouth with encouragement. Cook then grabs my hips and pushes me backward into the sink, continuing to kiss me. When I feel him lifting up my dress, hands resting on my ass I push against his chest, stopping our kiss. "You have to pull out," I say firmly, pointing a finger into his chest. "Yeah, yeah, babes alright," he says kissing my neck. "How do you want it then Eff?"

This is why I love Cook, so uncomplicated in so many ways. I smile in response knowing that he needn't ask... he already knows the answer. I tuck my fingers into the waistband of my underwear and pull them down, shrugging them from around my ankles.

He laughs at my smirking face and wastes no time in taking my hand and placing it on his already hardened cock. I turn around looking at our reflections in the mirror. "Go on then," I say challengingly.

Cook shakes his head delightfully as he pulls his pants and underwear down, lifting up my dress. Pressing me forward so I'm in a leaning position, hands clasped to the sink in front of me, I feel him push his considerable length and girth inside of me. He lets out a groan at the initial contact. "Always, ready for me, aren't you love?" I hum in response as I push myself back into him. Taking the hint he increases his rhythm until we're both biting our lips to keep from sounding like one of those 'mating in the wild' documentaries.

I look at my knuckles which have gone white as I clutch onto the sink, stabilizing myself at the continued thrusts behind me. Cook grabs my hips and forces me onto his dick so that our opposing directions cause a deliciously intense sensation. I close my eyes, leaning my head down, focusing on all the stimulation, feeling myself relax into his very capable hands.

Cook is many things – one of which is a fantastic fuck. He knows exactly how to get me off and does so without question or preamble. Knowing instinctively what I want, he wraps his arm around my stomach pulling me into a standing position. He looks at my reflection in the mirror, never stopping his thrusting, pulls down the top of my dress to grab my breasts – alternating between pinching almost painfully so before rubbing them with a flat hand. I moan and he places kisses onto my neck in answer. When I feel his hands travel off my tits and trail down my sides I look into the mirror and smile at him. His right hand reaches my cunt, fingers finding my clit in short order, rubbing small, tight circles into my most sensitive spot.

I feel myself getting closer and closer to release, and allow my eyes to close in ecstasy.

"Uh-uh, babes, look at me," Cook grunts as his left hand wraps around my neck and holds my head upright, looking directly into the mirror. He then intensifies his machinations on my clit along with his deep thrusting. "I want you to see yourself when you cum," he growls and presses into me ever further. Just when I feel my orgasm hit, he moves his hand from my neck to my cover my mouth. I grab his hand, keeping it against my face as I all but scream into it, body shaking with a shattering orgasm.

When the last bits of shock have wracked my body, I lean my head back into him, removing his hand from my mouth and sigh the sigh of the deeply sated. "Nice one, Cook," I say with a smirk at his reflection in the mirror.

"I aim to please. Speaking of aiming, babes?" he says pointing in the direction of his dick.

"Alright Cookie boy, I suppose you deserve it," I say as I turn around and get on my knees before him.

Yes, I do love this bathroom.


Emily's POV – Delfino House

It's not like I'm intentionally avoiding the common room or anywhere else Naomi might be, it's just that I felt like some alone time – is what I tell myself. This morning I woke up from bed to find the photograph of me and Presley lying carelessly on the floor. At some point last night I completely forgot about her, that is until Naomi took it upon her very clever self to analyze our body language. Now I can't stop looking at the picture. I keep trying to think of the moments right before and directly after it was taken. What reasons are there for her to be 'pulled away'? For starters, her hesitance to actually come out. Secondly, all the shit people will start on after they realize Katie was right about what she accused her of. And I'm sure a slew of other reasons. It's just I thought we were making progress. I can't help but thinking that if Katie and I hadn't switched this week then this wouldn't be happening. I wouldn't be dissecting every detail of this fucking picture and my mind wouldn't be preoccupied with Naomi (the blonde that is most certainly not my girlfriend and is definitely in a mental hospital but is decidedly hot and totally lust worthy.) But then I realize that I wouldn't have met, really met Naomi and somehow I think that maybe it's a fair trade. Which is silly really.

In fact all of this is silly. So, I have a little crush on Naomi... so what? Not a big deal. Next week I'll be back at Grayson's, back with Presley and we'll surely sort out whatever insecurities I've developed since being away from her. Katie will return to Delfino and halt any chemistry that may or may not be mutual with Naomi. If it's one thing I know, it's that Katie will not put up with any lezza shenaniggans. So once I return to Delfino the following week, the vibes will be different, and things will all go back to normal. I sigh happily. Yes, it will all be fine. It will all sort itself. So I suppose there's really no harm in hanging out with her in the mean time though. I mean, it's just a few more days.


Certificate of Death

Department of Health Services

Decedent's Personal Data

Name of Decedent: Sophia A. Moore

Date of Birth: 03.03.1992

Date of Death: 12.07.2009

Sex/Gender: Female

Decedent's Race: Caucasian

Occupation: Minor/Student

Local Registrar

Name of Funeral Establishment: Oldhams-Williams Funeral Home

License Number: FD-916

Place of Death

Place of Death: Club Onyx, owned by Exeter, Inc.

If Hospital, Specify; DOA, OR/ER or TP: DOA

Cause of Death

Immediate Cause of Death (final disease or condition resulting in death): Gunshot wound to the heart

Sequentially, list conditions of any leading to cause Line A (disease or injury that initiated the events resulting in death) last: Boyfriend of deceased grew increasing hostile and paranoid following continued domestic disputes culminating in a murder-suicide - shot by a short range handgun following dispute

Other Significant Conditions Contributing to death but not resulting in the underlying cause given in Line A: N/A

Coroner's Use Only

Manner of Death; Natural, Accident, Homicide, Suicide, Pending Investigation, Could Not Determine: Homicide

Place of Injury: Club Onyx, Bristol, England

Describe How Injury Occurred (events which resulted in injury): Shot by one Adam Aimes using a short range handgun following domestic dispute – perpetrator then committed suicide.

Signature of Coroner: Alice Clayworth

Date: 13.07.2009

Name and Title of Coroner/Deputy Coroner: Alice Clayworth, Deputy Coroner

I certify that in my opinion death occurred at the hour, date and place stated from the causes stated.


A/N:

My apologies for the longer than usual wait on this chapter. Prior to a fair bit of editing this chapter included a shit ton of content that I hadn't planned for - things that would have taken the story in another direction, or perhaps an added direction. In any event, it had to go. I promised y'all I'd get this train moving and can't do that when I let my fingers type away and stray from my story map. Bad fingers. Anyhow, I did save the bit I wrote and may do a little 3-shot prequel to ITR - although, not until this bitch of a story is finished! When all is said and done, it should be around 20 chapters or so. Hang tight, yeah?

So things have been kinda dead around here lately, huh? Thanks to tiffythetitan for the great fic recommendations. Anyone else have any?

xx,

tinderbliss