A/N: Sorry in advance. This was meant to be part of a bigger chapter, but I decided to make it its own.

~Naralanis


Serena struggled to keep her eyes open. She sat in her small office, buried deep in piles and piles of paper. Photos, sketches, color comparisons, mockups, make-up lists, contouring techniques, even a canine picture book previously used for a particular photoshoot. Her usually pristine, impeccably organized workspace had gradually turned to utter chaos about a week and a half before, when Miranda had given her the news for a promotion. In a fit of rage and sadness, she had thrown papers about, wallowing into the despair of having to take her girlfriend's dream job.

She had stayed behind during Paris Fashion Week, for the first time in years. Emily had found it strange, but Serena just told her Miranda had wanted her back at the office, and the redhead raised no question. That was usually the case whenever the silver-haired woman's whims were the case.

Serena was supposed to have been preparing for her transition to the Art Department. Before leaving for Paris, Nigel had solemnly given her a stack of heavy folders, containing everything he and Emily had gone through so that she could take his place. Those folders were the only part of her office still in order; they sat untouched beside her computer. It had felt like betrayal when Nigel handed them over.

Emily had yet to hear of it. Miranda had sworn both Nigel and Serena to secrecy until the Runway team returned from Paris. They would be back any minute today, and Serena still had to find a way to break the news.

She hadn't slept. Her beautiful features were marred by deep circles under her eyes, her lips were chapped, and her hair was oily and unwashed, strung in an unintentionally messy bun. Her phone had beeped a while ago; it had been Emily saying the company car had come pick them up after landing. She had not bothered to answer.

The Brazilian held her head in her hands as she held back a sob. It was a wonder she still had any tears left. She couldn't let this affect her so much. There was no doubt that Emily would be incredibly distraught; the redhead was infamous for her quick and emotional responses. Miranda had said that Emily would get her chance. Serena didn't want to hurt her girlfriend, but she didn't want to disappoint the Editor either. That inner conflict was tearing her apart.

A sudden knock surprised her out of her desperate musings. To her horror, the redhead she had just been thinking about opened her door with a smile on her face.

"Hey! You didn't answer my text…" her smile quickly disappeared as she took the scene before her in "Bloody Hell, what happened here?" Emily said, astonished at the state of Serena's usually anally impeccable office.

The Brazilian choked back a sob, her words stuck in her throat, prompting the redhead to immediately frown in worry and speed through the chaos of papers, holding her girlfriend by the arms.

"Hey, hey. What's going on? Jesus, Serena, what happened to you? Are you OK? Please, please answer me."

"I had no choice. Miranda told me not… not to tell you… I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

The redhead was confused as her girlfriend sobbed in her arms, but tried to be supportive. She looked for the tissues usually at the corner of the other woman's desk, but all she found were papers and more papers.

"Hey, hey, what's the matter?" Emily begged, worried.

"Nigel, the Art Department… I swear I didn't want to, Em, I swear I didn't. You've been working with Nigel for so long, it was your job to have, but Miranda…"

"Woman, you're not making any sense! Calm down. What about the Art Department?"

Serena took a long breath, steeling herself. They needed to have this conversation, and it would not be done over tears. She took a moment to compose herself, before looking deep into Emily's blue eyes.

"Nigel is heading up a new venture. Miranda's putting me in his place." She finally said, her voice wavering.

Emily froze as she was, her eyes flashing in a mix of confusion and betrayal. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Serena laid a gentle hand on the Brit's arm.

"I'm sorry, Em. I tried to tell Miranda, I really did, but-"

"You?" Emily finally choked back, her face hard as stone. "Why?"

Serena held onto the Brit, her own tears forgotten.

"Miranda. She said Nigel would be heading up Men's Runway after Paris."

"But… But you… Nigel was working with me. Did you tell Miranda that?" Emily said, beginning to look frantic.

"I didn't get the chance. You know how Miranda is."

Emily leaned heavily against the side of the desk, her hands falling to her sides. Her mouth opened and closed, as if she was trying to form words, but was unable to.

"Em?"

The redhead didn't look directly at her girlfriend, and merely shook her head away.

"You?" she finally said. "Why you?"

Serena shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't-" she began

"I mean, it's not like you have any experience. You came from some Brazilian cosmetology school, for Pete's sake." Emily began to mumble, seemingly to herself.

"Excuse me?" Serena retorted. She was aware of her girlfriend's temper and moods, but she'd rather stop her from saying something she would regret. Emily had a tendency to say first, think later, and it was never good.

"Oh, save it. So you can do contouring, so what? How does that qualify you for heading the Art Department?"

The Brazilian took a deep breath. There it was again, Emily's worst quality; she'd lash out, impulsively, without thinking of her actions and their consequences, or the people involved. She stood up to face the Brit from above.

"I'd be very careful with what you're about to say, Emily. You're upset, I get it. You're not thinking straight." She warned, gently but firmly.

Emily stood as well, facing her girlfriend head on.

"Oh, I'm thinking straight alright. I'm thinking some glorified make-up artist is taking the job I've been working my ass off for, for my entire career." She spewed, her voice laced with venom in such a way only an irrational Emily was capable of.

Serena blinked back a few more tears.

"You don't mean that."

Emily scoffed.

"What did you do, ask Miranda for the job yourself? Did you just accept it and throw me under the bus?! I've spent years preparing for that job. Years!" she screeched.

"Miranda left me no choice!" the blonde threw back.

"There is always a choice! Always!" Emily retorted, furious.

"What would you have me do?!"

"You could have said no!"

"And lose my job?! The only job I've ever loved?!"

"Yes!" the redhead snapped, hands closed into fists at her sides.

Serena stepped back, astonished. Emily fumed, panting heavily after her outburst.

"I can't believe this. I trusted you. What, did you go behind my back? Did you beg Miranda for a promotion, did you get on your knees and f-"

A resounding slap reverberated through the walls of the small office. Serena's hand stung, and Emily's pale cheek was already beginning to redden. Tears streamed down the Brazilian's face, and the redhead seemed to have awoken from a trance, her eyes wide and surprised.

"How dare… you. How…"

"Oh my god. Serena, I'm-"

Emily stopped talking once Serena's hands came up. The blonde silently picked up her purse and walked to the door, avoiding Emily's pleading, outstretched hand.

"Serena, I-"

"Don't bother waiting for me at home, querida." Serena coldly interrupted, slamming the door on her way out.


Don't kill me, they won't be apart for long.