Kinda filler, lots of angst soon :)

I don't know how long we stand there kissing, neither one of us wanting to end it. But eventually Emily pulls away for good, stopping my lips from meeting hers again by placing her index finger on my mouth.

The reality of the situation immediately pounds in to me as soon as the sensation of Emily's skin against mine is gone. My body aches physically as I react the the unexpected pang I feel from the negligible distance between us. I miss the feel of her lips and skin already. And something tells me that I should expect to feel like that for a long time. I lean against the dirty wall of the alley, trying to suck in enough air to catch my breathe. Emily smirks at me, assuming that my sudden breathlessness is all because of her. And it is, in a way. I'm doing all that I can not to go into panic mode and have an anxiety attack.

"Alright Naoms?" she asks, grabbing my hand and interlacing our fingers. I nod, mind still spinning from the force of the kiss and racing to put together a coherent story for Emily. It's difficult for me to think straight, no pun intended, when Emily is so close. Her red hair matches the red patches on her cheeks and nose right now, and I feel like I'm drowning in the color. She takes my silence as an affirmation, moving her body closer, so that we're almost hugging.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Emily asks, her already husky voice even huskier from the cold. Her lips are still up against mine, mere millimeters away from contact. I have to use all of my willpower not to lean in and close the tiny separation between us. She catches her lip with her teeth, deep brown eyes piercing my gaze, and my body is almost paralyzed. Her lips brush against mine for a few more seconds, an act more emotional than physical.

Yes, yes! I'll go anywhere with you. I feel my body freeze before I hear myself blurt, "No. No. No no no...no."

It's like the distance between us multiplies, though neither of us have moved a muscle. Emily pulls back now, grinning widely with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"Oh, are you planning to stay in this nasty alley forever?" She gestures to the trashbags and the vermin scuttling about.

My own smile is genuine as I jokingly tell her, "Well actually I was. My rent is sky-high and my flat-mate Freddie is fucking annoying! This looks like a pretty nice place to crash, and attractive women seem to be drawn to it." I wink at her, trying not to let any insecurities show.

We both chuckle at my little joke, but the tension in the air is only rising.

Emily squeezes my hand, eyes lowered, as she quietly informs me, "I wasn't trying to get you to come home with me."

"Oh." I can't help the spread of ice through my body when she tells me that; I have no reason to right to feel disappointed, but I do. I want to go home with you.

"Well," she laughs, "I was a little bit. But not so we could shag or anything."

"That's good then," I say, somewhat reassured, "I'm a very slow kind of girl. No jumping into beds or um relationships." I want to smack myself for that one. To Emily, it must seem like I'm being a coward again and can't just give into what we both want so desperately. It also seems like I'm roughly 14 years old, too afraid to even think about any kind of intimacy.

Emily starts to frown as I trail off. "Yeah, I got that impression...it's really hard for me when you pull away and close yourself off at any chance of emotional intimacy. I'm not asking for the whole story of what's been up with you or anything, at least not right now. Or even just honesty about your feelings. I just want you tell let me be there and let me help you. You're clearly going through something."

"It's my childhood," I lie, "I was supposed to keep everything suppressed. I never learned how to coherently express my feelings."

Emily nods and gives a bitter laugh, "I understand that. I don't want to push you, not a lot. I will have to, it seems, just not all at once. But for the sake of the work environment, can you at least tell me why you went on a date with Gordon?" I slide down the wall, sitting in cold filth, head in my hands.

"Dunno."

"Naomi, tell me," Emily demands, lifting my chin up with her finger. Fuck me that's so sexy.

I shrug her off, and mumble, "Well I have some personal issues and I just wanted to forget about all my shit for a night. I thought Gordon knew that I didn't like him, that I thought we were just having a nice dinner among friends. Kinda. I kept thinking of you, though, and it went to shit. And maybe I was hoping that going on a date with someone who wasn't you might jolt me awake. I have serious feelings for you, Em, and I just really can't act on them now. I thought I might make them go away with a successful date. But that's not going to happen. The way I feel about you isn't going away."

Emily gives me a kind smile, crouching down next to me, snuggling into my body. I relish the warmth immediately.

"Naomi, you have a lot going on right now, I get that. But please don't run away from me anymore. Be brave."

"I'll try, Ems, but I think work will be a bit terrible anyway. Screwed it up with Gordon. I'm such a terrible person. A real bitch. Work is going to be torture now, everyone will hate me."

"No, you're not a bitch," Emily retorts, "And I've already texted Gordon. Just now actually. He's going on a business trip, so it will be all good. He's cool now, no one will have to know."

"And when he comes back? Will he tell the office about how evil am I?"

Emily grins devilishly at me, "I formulated a good story. I can think on my feet pretty well. I took some liberties with the truth, so I hope you don't mind."I shake my head. "Well I told him you were struggling with your sexuality, and wanted to go on one last date with a man. So you choose the most handsome, sexiest, manliest man out there—Gordon. And you realized you really were gay, coz if you didn't appreciate a fine specimen like him, then you must not like any guys at all. He ate it right up."

"Thank fuck," I murmur, the weight on my shoulders lifting slightly. "Thanks Ems, that really helps."

"Of course. I would do anything to help you, Naomi," Emily say quietly, reaching over and linking our arms.

"I know you would, Em."

We sit there for a few moments, silent, each of us absorbed in our own thoughts.

"Naomi," Emily says eventually, "Is there anything you want to tell me?" She says it hesitantly, like she's not too sure about her words.

But it's like a stab to the heart to me, because there are just so many things that I want to tell her. I just can't. "Emily, I can't say a lot right now. But I'm going through a lot of personal shit right now, and I can't have any sort of relationship or friendship with you right now. I want to, I want it so badly I can almost taste it. But right now is a terrible time."

"Naomi, I'm trying to understand, but you never give me anything to work with. You tell me you can't, and you refuse to explain even a little bit. Why can't you say a lot?" she scoffs a bit, "Is it fucking illegal or something?"

I nod frantically.

"Like a court case or something?" She sounds surprised, but buys it.

"Yeah," I agree, "Civil court, obviously. But I promise that I will tell you everything in four weeks, okay?"

"You'll tell me everything in four weeks? Why your behavior is becoming increasingly erratic, why you run away after every encounter we have, why you don't think we should be together in any way? All of that?"

"Yes," I say, with a heavy heart. "In a few weeks, you will know everything. I promise."

I am planning on telling her everything as soon as possible. Best case scenario would be...Fuck it, I don't know. I hope that I don't end up breaking both of our hearts, but that is becoming an increasingly probable outcome.

As soon as I wave goodbye to Emily and get in my car, I dial Freddie.

"Fucking wanker shitbag, you better bloody pick up!" I yell into the phone. The smarmy tosser isn't answering his work line, which should always be open.

My heart is racing. Fuck. Fuck. I've probably broken all kinds of protocol tonight. Freddie still doesn't answer, so I find the number of his roommate. JJ is a member of the police department as well, though he doesn't work in the same area as Freddie and me. He's bloody brilliant, but has some major social problems. Cool bloke.

"Hello?"

"Hey, JJ, it's me...Naomi. Is Freddie in?"

"Yes...um, no...no." I sigh, "Well which one is it?

JJ lowers his voice and whispers, "He's busy..with a girl."

I roll my eyes. Fucking Freddie gets to have sex while I'm stuck doing all the dirty work. "I'm coming over, JJ, I need to talk with him badly."

"Shit. Shit. Shit. This will be awkward."

"Get him to kick the bitch out, I'll be there in 20." I hang up the phone and turn up the volume of the radio. I cannot handle my life right now.

Freddie is understandably a bit pissed off when I arrive. His lady friend is gone, though, and he seems to be back in work mode. I've caught him up on the night's events and the general situation. I have not mentioned the extent of my infatuation with Emily. JJ, who is actually ranked higher than either of us, is listening to the conversation and making scared noises. He knows all the rules, lives for protocol. Jay would know if I've done something wrong.

"So yeah, Freds, I don't know what I'm going to do. I gave myself a month. Do you think the investigation will take any longer than that? Pleasure Productions is clean, crystal clean. There's been nothing sketchy in any of the bookkeeping or the administration. I really want to come clean to my co-workers."

"Well Naomi," Freddie says seriously, "I've got some news for you."

"Brilliant," I mumble sarcastically, "What is it now?"

"Earlier today there was a huge raid and ambush. The Navy seized four boats in the harbor, full of illegal wares. Kilos and kilos of cocaine and marijuana, thousands of pornographic DVDs, and dozens of sex workers. They were brought here from the Ukraine, and the youngest one is only twelve. Said they were forced to film the videos that were seized, then kidnapped and transported. Huge, huge operation."

"And?" I ask wearily, "that affects me how?"

"We have reason to believe that Pleasure Productions was involved."

"Don't give me that fucking 'we' bullshit, mate! What reasons? Is there actual tangible evidence, or is it just bureaucratic crap that wastes time and energy?"

Freddie rubs the back of his neck, cheeks going slightly red, "I don't really know. I don't have the clearance."

"Fucking great!" I yell, punching the couch angrily, "So I'm supposed to investigate this huge thing all by myself? What the fuck are they thinking? I can't fucking do this, they haven't even told me everything!"

"You aren't," Freddie informs me, "You're being phased out of the operation. This whole thing is way out of our jurisdiction, and you're in over your head."

"Oh. How kind of them to realize that," I say sarcastically, "Couldn't have done anything at the start of the operation, could they."

"You're going to be phased out," Freddie continues, looking at a thick packet of papers, "Over the next couple of weeks, the brass is going to send someone in. A special agent. While they get acclimated, you turn in your resignation."

"Fuck."

"Yeah," Freddie agrees, "But we did a good job until then; got some top people praising your work Naomi. Don't worry about falling by the wayside, they really appreciate what you've done so far."

I smile a bit at this, my ego getting a well-needed boost. "So after I'm phased out, what then?"

"Well," Freddie says, smiling widely, "You're going to get a week of paid leave before reporting back to work as normal. Some detective-work, some grunt work, a bit of desk duty. The usual."

"This is fucking awesome," I say, truly feeling it, "I'm so tired. But about the case...once I'm phased out completely, I can still contact people who work at Pleasure Productions, right?"

Freddie barks out a short laugh, and tells me, "Of course not, Naomi. Don't be fucking ridiculous"

"What?"

"Are you seriously surprised? I mean, these people are the subject of a very serious investigation. They have might committed terrible crimes, you shouldn't hang around them."

"I don't think they are," I retort, overwhelmingly wanting to defend my new friends, "I think they are innocent."

Freddie rolls his eyes, "Doesn't matter anyway. Why would you want to contact them?"

I blush a little bit as I think of Emily. "No reason. They are just fun people. I made friends."

"Please tell me you're fucking with me, Naomi," Freddie pleads, "That's so fucking not okay. If you don't sever contact with all of them, it will mean bad things for them and you."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. You could fuck up the investigation by giving them info , you could be charged as an accessory, you could ruin your career by fraternizing with suspects. You're not thinking straight, Campbell."

I shrug. "So who is this special agent then?"

Freddie shivers a bit, tossing a thick folder over to me. After I open the first page, I see all the information I need to know. The agent joining me? The Bellicose Butcher of Bristol. The definition of a loose cannon cop. Completely lethal, terrorizing anti-hero. I'm fucking terrified.

So what do you guys think? Who should the Butcher be? (It will be someone from gen 1 or 2)

Let me know what you thought.