Naomi pulled back out of Alicia's arms. "Everything is such a mess," she said quietly, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. Alicia surveyed her critically.

"You're not wrong," she said. "This isn't you Naomi. You normally have better sense than this."

"No, I don't," Naomi looked at her as if she was insane. Alicia laughed.

"No, you don't," she agreed. "But you normally have better taste at least. Seriously Naomi, what the fuck were you thinking, falling for a closet case with a boyfriend? Oh and dumping your girlfriend and manager all in one hit? Not to mention destroying your lovely house with that hideous paint job…and fucking hell, when was the last time you showered?" her nose wrinkled with distaste and Naomi rolled her eyes.

"My girlfriend and manager dumped me," she corrected her. "And yeah…I'm completely fucked." There really was no point in trying to hide it at all. Alicia eyed her narrowly.

"Yes, you are. Royally fucked in fact. And you've got no idea how bad it's going to get. That's the reason I'm here," she told her, a sudden exasperated expression taking over her face. "Naomi…Art World comes out next week. You remember the editor, Sophia, from the exhibition opening at City Gallery? You know, she had a crush on you? Well, she's given me a head's up about the content of the new issue, purely as a courtesy measure." Naomi looked at her, bewildered. This was Alicia her ex-manager talking, not Alicia her ex-girlfriend.

"Okay," she shrugged. "What content?"

"I don't know what you said to that journalist McLair, or what the fuck you were thinking when you did it," she paused, trying to read Naomi's face and seeing nothing but confusion. "They know Naomi. What happened in London…they know the truth and they're going to expose you."

"…Oh," was all she managed. Right. Fuck. "How?"

"I think I have a few ideas. We're going to have to jump fast on this though," she looked steely for a moment. "Like I said Naomi, you need me."

"Maybe I do," she admitted. "What does that mean though Al? I didn't think you wanted anything more to do with me." Alicia looked at her, frowning.

"I don't," she raised her eyes skyward. "But Naomi…I still care about you…we made a good team. This could ruin everything we worked so hard to create. Maybe you shat all over our relationship but I don't want everything else to get fucked up along the way…jesus I worked hard for you. Don't ruin it."

"I made you that much money huh?" Christ, she just couldn't help herself sometimes.

Anger flashed in Alicia's eyes.

"Fuck you Naomi. It took a lot for me to come here tonight, but how about I just go and leave you to…this?" she gestured around at the shambles of her house, her life.

"No! …Alicia, I'm sorry. I've just - it's been a shit couple of days," Alicia just eyed her, looking unmoved. "Please don't leave," she muttered finally. Asshole, I'm an asshole.

"Okay. We'll do this then," Alicia decided. "But not until after you take a fucking shower. You reek." Alicia sat back on the couch, crossing her perfect legs, clasping her perfect fingers and giving her a look of perfect disgust.

"Fine." Naomi said, her expression dignified as she stalked elegantly to the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

.

.

At least in the shower no one could hear her as she broke down and cried like a baby. A big part of her wanted to tell Alicia she didn't give a shit if her career went down the fucking toilet. Because really, did any of it matter? Luckily, a small part of her knew that right now, her career was pretty much all she had left. So fine, she didn't feel like fucking painting at the moment. But ending up having to take a job at McDonald's probably wasn't going to make her feel any better. Enough she commanded herself, rubbing the last of the paint off her face. Enough going to pieces over Emily Fitch. It's not helping me win her is it?

She still couldn't quite believe how it had all turned out. She'd done everything she could think of to gain Emily back. She'd given her time and space, then raised hell on earth and Katie Fitch in order to find her. She'd tried to tread carefully at first so as not to freak her out. Then finally, she'd even fucking admitted to her that she loved her. And what had she got back? Nothing but "I know,"right before Emily had turned and left with fucking Tony. Why don't you just rub some glass shards straight into my heart? Why don't you just kick me in the fucking face? The hurt, childlike part of herself wanted to march over to Emily's right now and start screaming at her. How the hell does she think it's even possible for her to walk away from this? Can't she see we're made for each other? She's really going to keep on running, even now? Keep pretending that this isn't what it is? Insane. It was so insane. She punched the tiled wall with her wet fist.

She couldn't quite bring herself to regret any of it though. Every single second of Emily's soft bare skin under her hands, every kiss she'd stolen from her, every gasp, every whimper, every moan. It was all worth every bit of the pain that stabbed at her now. She smiled into the water, despite it all. She remembered Emily's hunger, the depth of her response, the look in her eyes as she pushed her onto the bed. The knowledge returned to her with sudden clarity; Emily would not, no matter how hard she tried, be able to deny this forever. Naomi's main hope was that Tony would do the right thing now and refuse to collude with her any more. She desperately did not want to imagine them patching things up right now. Oh god, would they? If I was Tony I'd be moving heaven and earth to get her to stay with me, no matter what it took. The question is only this: how willing, really, is Emily to hide from herself? For that, she had no answer.

Stepping out of the shower and drying herself with a big soft fluffy towel, she realised that there really was only one thing she could do now. Wait. I will wait and wait and wait with all my might and all my strength. And one day, when I've waited enough…she'll be there. She commenced waiting. She waited a few more seconds. Any minute now, she promised herself.

.

.

For the next three hours Alicia and Naomi discussed strategy. This kind of thing usually made her feel sick as it was, and it was made worse by the fact that she really hated Alicia's plan this time. She knew the woman was right though. She'd brought all this on herself and there really was no way around it. There was a part of her that enjoyed this…Alicia beside her again, glowing with brilliance and bristling with capability. I wish I was as together as she is…as strong…even as demanding. She wondered then if that was what had attracted her to Alicia in the first place. I'm still in awe of her. She knows what she wants and she goes for it, expecting to get it. She wondered whether maybe if she'd used that approach with Emily she would have been more successful. God, all that tiptoeing around and being gentle, I should have just pushed her up against the washing machines and snogged her face off the moment I saw her, she was reflecting right as Alicia reached out and put her hand on her knee. Her eyes snapped up to her ex- girlfriend's face.

"Naomi," she said softly. "It's not too late for us you know. So you…strayed a little. We could move past that and-"

Naomi gently removed Alicia's hand, stopping her. There could be no regrets here. "Al. I can't, I'm sorry." She waited for the explosion, but Alicia just sighed instead.

"Okay," she said simply. "Dare I ask…what happened, with Emily?" Naomi hunched her knees up to her chest and looked away.

"Nothing. Well, no something. But she can't face up to it yet. Or maybe, she just doesn't want me badly enough." Tears prickled in her eyes again and she glared ferociously at the half painted wall trying to stop them from falling.

"For fuck's sake Naomi. Of course she wants you," snapped Alicia. "Doesn't take a genius to work it out. Give it time. You'll be revoltingly in love and I'll fucking hate you both for it." Naomi looked at her in surprise.

"Uh, thanks…Al," she said warily.

"Can we get back to the important matters at hand now please?"

Eventually they went to bed. Alicia picked the couch and as incongruous as she found the idea of her spoiled princess of an ex voluntarily bunking on the sofa, Naomi was relieved she didn't have to explain the state of her paint smeared bed sheets to her. She woke up in the morning to the sound of the doorbell, and wandered out blearily, but Alicia was already coming back up the stairs.

"Who was that?" she asked.

"No one," Alicia replied smoothly. "Breakfast?"