To Eddie's credit, he had a sheepish look on his face as she gaped at him, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "Hi Rach."

Hi Rach? Two months, two months since she'd seen him, two months she'd spent desperately trying to pretend she didn't feel like her heart had been torn apart, and he gave her a 'hi Rach'?

He must have seen something in her expression, because he shifted uncomfortably, hands shoving into his pockets. "I'm sorry for showing up like this," he said hastily, "but I didn't think you should hear it from Phil and I know him well enough to know he'd probably blab it by accident at school, or tell someone who'd let it slip or use it in purpose. I mean, not that Phil would purposefully tell someone who was going to do that but he doesn't exactly have a history of being sensible, especially when having friends is involved and-,"

"Eddie," Rachel interrupted, thoroughly confused. He fell silent, the sheepish look returning, and she couldn't help the flash of amusement that ran through her. She studied him for a moment, saw for the first time that he looked tired, even more rumpled than he usually did and felt something inside her clench. She hadn't even decided to speak when the words had already come out. "Perhaps you'd better come in?"

Unbelievable, she moaned internally as she stepped back, moving back into the living room. Rachel Mason, what are you doing to yourself? Eddie shut the door behind him and trailed after her, eyes flicking over the wine, chocolate and tv programme. He knew her well enough to know what those things meant, felt guilt well up within him. She'd had an awful day, clearly, and him showing up out of the blue probably hadn't made it any better.

"What's going on?" Rachel had crossed her arms, was looking at him expectantly from across the room.

He grimaced. "Melissa had the baby," he blurted, and physically saw the pain flash across her face. She stared at him, wondered why exactly he'd decided to come and tell her in person. She'd like to think he wasn't being cruel- he didn't have a cruel bone in his body- but all this was doing was hurting the both of them and she couldn't do it.

"Eddie…"

"She isn't mine."

That brought her up short. "What?"

"The baby isn't mine," he repeated.

She could only stare at him helplessly, unsure how to respond to that. "How…?"

He pre-empted her question, pulling out his phone and handing to her. She looked at it automatically. The photo it showed was of an admittedly beautiful baby, obviously soon after birth, with brown curls plastered to her head and a peaceful face. A baby who, it was apparent, was mixed race.

Rachel blinked, tried to clear her vision. The photo didn't change.

"Oh."

"Melissa's phone had died, I told the midwife to use mine," Eddie said quietly. "I think it took a few seconds for it to occur to her."

She hadn't taken her eyes from the photo, and when she spoke, her voice came out strangled. "Melissa didn't say anything?"

"No. They thought the baby might have breathed at the wrong time, so when she came out they took her over to the…" he made a box with his hands, searching for the word. "The little bed thing with the heater on top. The midwife handed me the phone, I went over to look in person and just… walked out."

Rachel wondered, how could a baby breathe at the wrong time? Then decided it probably wasn't the most important thing. She'd been looking at the phone for so long the screen had gone dark, but she still didn't move. Melissa must have known. At the very least, she'd known there was a possibility but instead of confessing, she'd lied. Even when she knew that the pregnancy was breaking her and Eddie up, Melissa hadn't said anything. She could have spoken up, could have admitted the baby wasn't Eddie's, could have admitted there was a chance that it wasn't but instead… instead she'd kept quiet.

She'd known her sister was selfish, but Rachel hadn't known she could be so heartless.

"Rach?"

Eddie sounded concerned, and she realised she'd been silent for a while. She looked up, handed his phone back without a word. "I'm so sorry, Eddie."

He shook his head. "You've nothing to be sorry for."

"I'm sorry she hurt you."

He swallowed thickly, hands clenching and unclenching so quickly she almost missed the movement. "I'm sorry she hurt you too."

On her mantlepiece, there was a faded picture from her childhood. Her and Melissa, sat on a towel on a beach she no longer knew, both grinning toothily up at the camera from under sunhats. She turned her gaze away, ignoring the prickling in her eyes. "Do you want a drink?"

He looked surprised at the sudden offer, but nodded jerkily and followed her into the kitchen. She pulled a bottle of vodka from the cupboard- Eddie didn't mention how, in previous times, she'd had a bottle of his favourite whiskey in there and a case of his beer in the fridge, and she didn't mention how she'd thrown both out in a fit of helpless anger over the summer.

"How's Phillip?" she asked suddenly, pouring them both a glass.

"I've only spoken to him over text," he admitted. "I think he's confused, and a bit hurt. But Melissa's his mum."

She threw back the contents of her glass. The alcohol burnt, and she wished it were stronger. "I realise you're hurting more than I am, but I really don't want to hear that name for the foreseeable future."

"I'll drink to that."

She was already refilling both their glasses. "I'll ask Kim to check in with him on Monday," she said absently. He gave her an odd look.

"Why Kim?"

She shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "Things are difficult between him and I. We haven't really spoken."

She necked her glass again, filled it and repeated the gesture. Eddie didn't appear to notice, too involved with his own drink.

They remained in silence for a long time, taking it in turns to fill the glasses as the second hand ticked on the clock in the corner, the fridge periodically whirring before falling silent again. Rachel had forgotten how comfortable it could be with Eddie, and felt a stab of longing that had her practically gulping her next glass down.

Eddie looked up at her for the first time in a while, eyes glassy. "How do I explain this to a four-year-old? Michael… he's been so excited to be a big brother."

"Get Alison to do it," she deadpanned, only half joking. He snorted. She stared at the bottle of alcohol in front of her, remembered the many, many conversations she'd had that day, Bolton and Paul suspended, Danielle unresponsive, lying in a hospital bed. What a hypocrite she was, she thought, and took another gulp.

"Tell me she's just self-absorbed and scared," she requested suddenly. He raised his eyebrows at her, not needing to ask who. "Tell me she's just self-centred, that she doesn't actually mean to hurt anyone. Because the alternative… I don't know how to cope with the alternative."

"Rach." He caught her attention, waited for her to look up at him. "I can't tell you how much I hate your sister right now. But the one thing I know, is that she does love you."

She gave a hysterical laugh. "She's got a funny way of showing it."

This time, it was Eddie who reached over to fill their glasses. It wasn't until they had both been emptied again and were being topped up that Rachel spoke again. "She came round, first week of the holidays," she said quietly. "Said she was worried about me, wanted to check on me. And I told her truth. I told her that I was-," broken, she'd almost said, but cut herself off just in time. No need for Eddie to hear that. "Point is, she knew the effect she'd had. And she still kept quiet. She must have known."

Eddie reached out, slid a hand over hers where it rested on top of the counter-island and she jumped violently at the unexpected contact. Her entire awareness centred on that one touch, her breath catching in her throat as she raised her gaze to meet his. For a moment, they could only stare silently.

His little finger rested on her wrist, curling around and he could feel her pulse jump, accelerate faster. He'd intended only comfort, but this was something else entirely. Neither moved, tension thick in the air but he didn't know what to do about it, and she didn't seem about to do anything either. Painstakingly slowly, he moved his hand away. The air against his fingers seemingly much colder than it had been before as he rose to his feet, swaying slightly. "I should go."

She gave a terse nod, reaching for her glass without a word and downing it.

"Are you going to be okay?"

She watched his gaze move from her to the bottle, lingering for a moment before returning, and gave a bitter laugh. "Don't worry, I have no intention of turning into my father."

"Rachel…"

"What I do have," she continued, pouring more out and ignoring him, "is tonight and tomorrow to get blind drunk, and then Sunday to recover before school on Monday. So…" She raised her glass, toasted him with it and necked the lot.

Eddie looked even more reluctant, hesitating for a long moment. She payed him no attention. "Rachel… I…"

"You should call a taxi."

Her voice sounded off, not quite slurring but not quite as enunciated as she usually was, just enough for him to notice. He still didn't move, and she looked up, raising an eyebrow in silent question. Eventually, he sighed and nodded towards the bottle. "Mind some company?"

"Feel free." She nudged his glass towards him again. He went to retake his seat, misjudged. He caught the counter to stop himself falling, stumbling against it and his arm caught the glass, sending it careening off of the edge to shatter on the floor.

"Bollocks."

She snickered, standing herself to fetch the dustpan and brush. Only to have to pause a moment as her vision swam, and she realised that the two of them had had quite a lot in a relatively short space of time. She blinked, waiting for her kitchen to right itself before she moved.

"Let me get it," Eddie offered, but she waved him off.

"It's fine." Her head felt too light for her body, the light in the kitchen too bright and she began to laugh. "Danielle Harker, eat your heart out."

"You're drunk," Eddie accused in amusement, coming to stand in front of her.

"If I am, so are you."

He nodded thoughtfully. "We have had most of a bottle of vodka between us."

She frowned, looked back towards the island. Sure enough, there was only a little left before the bottle would be empty. She laughed again. "Maybe I am turning into my father."

She turned, intending to clear up the broken glass. Only the room spun once again and she lost her balance, stumbling and Eddie attempted to grab her, but tripped himself. It was only Rachel slamming into the doorframe that saved them both from landing on the floor, the pain shooting up her back lost in the haze of alcohol. What wasn't lost, however, was the way Eddie had fallen against her.

His whole body was pressed against hers, one hand on her waist and his lips mere inches away. Her laughter instantly died, gaze centred on his lips and an eternity seemed to pass as they both froze where they were. He went to shift his weight, intending to move away, but the movement pressed him against her even more firmly, and she couldn't stop the sharp inhale at the pleasure that lanced through her.

Eddie was lost. His eyes darkened at the noise, his head ducking to crash their lips together.

Fire raced through both of them. Rachel pulled him closer, fingers entwining into his hair as his hands roving up and down her body. She welcomed the touch, biting at his lip as her grip tightened, a desperate moan escaping into the air when he shifted again and his thigh slid between hers, stoking the flames within her. He tore his lips away, pressed open-mouthed kisses across her jaw, down her throat and she willingly tilted her head back to grant him better access, hips rolling against his. He hissed, trailing a hand down to her knee to urge her to wrap her leg around him.

More, he insisted, and she gladly gave it to him. His shirt was tugged open and she scraped her nails down his chest, enjoying the choked noise he made before he bent his head, lips closing around her collarbone. His hands trailed lower and she made a noise in the back of her throat, head falling back and hitting the doorframe with a thump.

His mouth was nestled in the hollow of her shoulder, tongue flicking out. "Help me forget," he begged, lips pressed against her skin. She heard him anyway. She reached out, fingers sliding around his chin to tug him back upwards, back to where she could capture his lips with hers, all teeth and tongue and heat that seemed to encompass their whole bodies. His hands slid down, boosting her up and pinning her in place so she could wrap both legs around him, his arms beneath her.

He spun them, made it as far as the hallway at the base of the stairs before he needed more again, and her back hit the wall with an audible thump. He bit down on the curve of her shoulder, ignoring the way her fingers dug into his shoulders, spine arching. "Missed you," he gasped out, and a warmth entirely separate to their current activities flooded her, along with some reality.

"Missed you too," she admitted in a whisper, peppering kisses wherever she could reach. He nudged her head back; she felt his teeth nibble along her jaw, and groaned. "This is such a bad idea…"

He nodded his agreement. "The worst."

The world around them was spinning and tilting, but then he lifted his head to kiss her properly again and she found she no longer cared about anything other than the feel of him against her.

So for the record, this is THE most explicit thing i've ever written and i'm incredibly nervous about posting it (i'm aware there's far more explicit out there, but that's by the by). Please tell me if you think it's okay? x