A/N: Many hugs and thanks to my reviewers!

Chloroform Perfume

She was half an hour late and completely unapologetic.

I'd chosen The Dot for old-times' sake and she'd grudgingly accepted but I'd begun to think she wasn't going to come at all. But the bell above the door finally jingled and she walked in, looking more uncertain than I'd seen her since our high school days.

She sat down and pulled out a cigarette, then hastily shoved it back into the carton when she saw the manager staring her down.

"Black coffee?" I offered. She nodded. She clearly wasn't happy with me. I'd sort of technically forced her into this, but it wasn't as if I were out to ruin her life.

She was in a tight corset top and a mini skirt and I couldn't tell if she'd just come from work or if this was an everyday outfit for her. She still wore fishnets and the same old boots, but her skirts were inches shorter and her eyes fierce.

"You coming from work?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Home."

"Oh. I just thought, since you were a little late and all..."

She glared at me again, her eyes flashing and tongue clenched between her teeth, and I knew I'd better watch my step. "Some of us have important things to do," she said. "Some of us have to scrub floors and worry about dinner and bills and spend time with our husbands. I'm so sorry to inconvenience you, but some of us can't just sit around and relive old memories."

I mumbled an apology, not wanting to get into a fight, and she accepted it with a brisk nod.

When the coffee arrived, she glanced around the room and then pulled out a flask of some sort of alcohol (I stayed away from the stuff for the most part--seeing her in the bar had been a fluke) and dumped a bit into the cup before I could protest. She met my gaze and there was a challenge on her face--one I wasn't about to accept.

I sipped at my own coffee--double-double; I wasn't as brave as her--as a desperate attempt to hold my tongue, and for once, it worked. We sat in silence until she was driven insane by it, and she gave in and spoke.

"So what have you been up to?" There was bitterness in her voice and resentment, and I knew then how much she hated me. Nevertheless, I had to answer.

"Not too much. Um, I'm working part-time at a car repair shop. And I've been going to school but I'm taking this semestre off. Needed a break. What about you?"

She shrugged. "Nothing much." I knew that was all I'd get out of her.

She grabbed a stir stick from the tray and dipped it into her coffee, stirring it around and around despite there being nothing to stir but half an inch of liquid. Bit by bit, she destroyed the lid of her cup with one hand, tearing it to tiny pieces while the other hand continued in robotic circles.

"Tim seems nice," I offered finally. It was an effort on my part. I hated him even before I'd met him. And he should have been impossible to hate because of who he was, but I hated him anyway. He'd taken her from me. He'd destroyed her.

She shrugged again. "I guess." She stared down into her drink, tapping her foot to add to the anxious refrain.

"Um, how's the family?"

"Fine." But one muscle at the corner of her mouth twitched and I knew it was a lie--more of a lie than anything else she'd said. There was no point in pushing it, however. Ellie had always been stubborn, and I doubted that had changed.

"Ellie..."

She looked up at me then, and there was a hint of something in her eyes that I didn't quite recognise. But she waited for me to continue.

"Ellie, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left you with the rent. That I abandoned you. I'd take it back if I could."

"Whatever. It's fine. It was your life."

"It's not fine," I protested, and I meant it. "It was your life too."

I guess I'm more of an optimist than I cared to admit. I was still hoping she'd smile or jump into my arms or tell me she still loved me.

"Whatever."

I sighed and we sat in silence until the third offer of a refill. At that point, I decided we'd probably overstayed our welcome.

"I guess I should get going," I said reluctantly. "But El... I really am sorry. I am so sorry."

"Shut up."

"Excuse me?" I was sure I'd heard her wrong but when I looked at her, her eyes had filled with tears.

"Shut up. Please. Just be quiet." She leaned forward and her lips brushed mine and I knew that I hadn't even begun to explore the meaning of the word complicated.

"Please." She whispered it again and this time I was the one to lean in for a kiss. Her lips tasted of whiskey and coffee and vanilla gloss and sin had never felt quite so good.