Well, here is the next update and you finally get to meet Rick, James, Scott and Peter :D

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Café et fraises

Chapter Twenty Four

Bastard

Ouch. Lucy felt that. She yanked herself to a stop so hard it seemed the wheels of the buggy would give off smoke. Charlie laughed happily. Libby withdrew her fist, blood now running out of redhead's nose as she gave a cry of pain.

'Libs, what the fuck are you doing?' demanded Swill, getting to his feet and pulling her out of reach of the other woman.

'What am I doing? Don't you mean, what're you doing, you stupid idiot! How longs this been going on for, huh? How long have you been playing me for a fool?'

'Libby, it's not like that. This is Jasmine… she's an old school friend.'

'Do I have 'twat' written on my forehead? I saw Jasmine touch your hand. You were leaning towards each other!' Libby was beyond anger; she was fuming! Lucy knew there was no chance of calming her down. Swill glanced at the redhead who was dabbing at her nose, tears glazed in her eyes.

'Jesus, Simon. You do choose them, don't you,' she spat.

'Simon?!' screeched Libby, starting towards her, but Swill grabbed her. 'Don't you dare call him Simon, you whore!'

'Whore? Big word for someone your fucking size,' Jasmine retorted. She looked up at Swill. 'Call me,' she smirked. 'Maybe we can meet up in private, so we won't get interrupted.' She glared down at Libby again, before turning away and strolling off down the street. Libby struggled out of Swill's grip, turning to him. Lucy shifted in embarrassment; everyone's eyes were on them.

'How long have you been twisting that knife you stuck in my back, Simon?' she asked, eyes blazing.

'I haven't!' he protested. 'She used to be in my year and I thought it would be nice to catch up!'

'Were you playing footsie under the table?'

'Libby,' Swill snarled, finally sticking up for himself. 'You've twisted this way out of fucking proportion. She's nothing to me! I love you for fuck sakes.'

'Then why didn't you tell me?'

'Tell you what?!'

'That you were meeting up with the local whore? Or did it slip your mind?'

'I… I didn't think it was important,' replied Swill, but he averted his gaze, ears pink. Libby shook her head in disgust and Lucy reached forward to clasp her hand.

'Come on, Libs,' she said in a quiet voice. 'Let's go. Come on.' Libby allowed herself to be dragged off, fighting tears all the way.

--

'Why!' sobbed Libby when they were back at Pete's. She had been crying for the last hour and Lucy was scared that she would make herself sick. 'Why does this have to happen to me? Why now, when I need him the most!' and she shook the fish tank angrily, water sloshing around the top, staring down at the floating dead fish. Poor Henry. Tears were streaming down Libby's face. Lucy took the fish tank from her, placing it on the coffee table and putting her arm around her.

'He had a good life, Libs,' she reassured. 'After you saved him from being eaten by all those other fish. He loved you.'

'And now he's gone like all the other men in my fucking life.' And she let out a loud sob and burst into fresh tears once more.

'Ah, Libby,' said Pete, as he leaned in the doorway of the kitchen. 'I'm sure Henry's doing well in … fishy heaven?'

'I'm not a fucking four year old,' she spat in reply, putting her head in her hands, body racking with sobs.

'Just trying to help,' Pete replied, checking his watch. He'd have to go and see Swill. He'd calmed down enough not to break his jaw when he saw him. Pete had gotten very protective of Libby over the past year and to see her like this… breaking down; hell, it was heart breaking. Grabbing his jacket, he moved through towards the door. 'I'll be back soon,' he said. Lucy nodded, watching as Pete walked out.

--

'Is she okay?' asked Swill as he paced his living room, a worn look on his face.

'Yeah, except for the fact she's flooding my flat with tears. To make matters worse-' Swill looked up. '-her fucking fish chose a fine time to pop 'is clogs.'

'Henry's dead?'

'Yeah; they found him when they got back. Christ, she looked like she wanted to commit suicide, Swill! How could you?'

'Don't go fucking blaming me. I didn't kill the damn thing.'

'No, I meant how could you cheat on her like that.' Swill stopped pacing and turned threateningly towards Pete, but the Dunham brother stood his ground.

'I didn't cheat on her. I never have and I never will. I really was just meeting up with an old school friend. She's always been a bit full on. Libby never gave me a chance to explain though, before she punched Jasmine.'

'Punched?'

'Yeah and a fucking good 'un as well. I heard a crack.' Pete sighed, rubbing his eyes.

'Look, Swill. Promise me you'll make it up to her. I'm scared she'll do something stupid.' Swill nodded.

'One problem, though,' he said.

'What?' Pete frowned.

'She might not listen to me.'

--

Don Carwood gave a yawn and stretched, wondering where the banging was coming from. Then, he realized it was coming from his front door. Sliding out of bed, he pulled on a pair of jeans and socks, before making his way out his bedroom and down the corridor to answer the door where the hammering was going on fruitlessly.

'What?' he demanded as he yanked open the door, but his pale blue eyes widened and he cleared his throat. 'Oh, Libby. What are you doing 'ere? How'd you know where I live?'

'It's not hard,' she replied, giving a sniff. 'All I have to do is go into a club and ask a pretty girl.' Don laughed despite himself, before stepping aside to let her in. His smile faded when he noticed her red, puffy eyes.

'You feeling okay?' he asked, kicking the door shut behind her and following her into the living room. Libs glanced around; chocolate shag rug on the middle of the laminated floor, which matched the chocolate leather sofa pushed back against the wall. There was an archway which led into the kitchen, and a small corridor leading off to bedrooms and bathrooms. She dumped her bag down on the sofa, turning to him. Her eyes scanned the pale span of his muscular chest that was just as pale as the rest of his skin. If Don's eyes weren't blue and hair ever so slightly blonde, she could have sworn him to be albino. He cleared his throat and she tore her gaze from his chest to stare at his face.

'No, I'm not,' she said, voice wavering slightly. She took a deep breath. 'My boyfriend's been cheating on me.'

'Ouch,' he said softly, stepped forward. Libby let him pull her into a hug and it was waterworks on again.

'It had been almost a year!' she cried, wiping her eyes. 'That's how long I haven't spoken to you as well.'

'Well, I'm glad you came to me in your time of need,' he said. He had put a shirt on, white, unbuttoned down the middle. They were sat on his sofa, the TV on low, his arm around her.

'And my fish died! I've had him longer.'

'Well,' he frowned. 'Fish don't really live forever, doll. I'm sure he had a happy life.'

'Happy?' she asked. 'He had an exultant, ecstatic life!'

'I bet he did,' smiled Don, rubbing her shoulder.

'He was blind in one eye,' she sniffed. 'But it never put him down. He liked to float on his side a lot, sometimes even upside down.' Don wondered if her fish had died months before she found out and had just been hanging around 'on his side.'

'You seem more upset about him then you do Swill,' he said.

'He's a bastard,' she seethed. 'Going off with some dirty skank while I was being all happy about what we had. I'm so stupid,' she said, tears threatening to overwhelm her. 'Don… do you think I could stay here for a couple of nights?'

'As long as you want,' he promised with a smile. He shifted off the sofa, going through into the small kitchen. 'What do you want to eat?'

'I'm not hungry,' she replied.

'Don't give me that,' he said with a weary sigh. 'I've heard it all.'

'You have?'

'Yeah; my sister, Beth was an anorexic. She just didn't eat anything. When I did force her to eat, she just puked it all back up.'

'Was an anorexic? Does that mean she's better?'

'No. She's dead.' It took Libby a moment to process the words.

'I'm sorry,' she said quietly.

'Don't be. It was her own fault.' There was a tone of resentment in his voice, so Libby decided to change the subject.

'I'll have pie and chips then if it's going.'

'That's more like it,' he smiled.

--

'Libby?' Lucy called into the apartment. Silence answered her. 'Libs?' Stepping into Pete's living room, she frowned. The fish tank was on the table, Henry still floating on top. Libby's bag was still on the sofa. Moving to it, she opened it up. All her things were still in here; her purse, her mobile, her other bits and bobs. Even her favourite lipstick. 'Libby?' she said loudly.

'Lucy?' came Pete's voice, as he left the bathroom. 'You alright?'

'No, Libby's gone,' Lucy said, on the verge of tears. 'I went out to get some chocolate to cheer her up and now she's gone.' Pete frowned, moving across to push open the bedroom door and peer in.

'She's not in 'ere.'

'What if something's happened to her?'

'Well, there's hardly a sign of a break-in,' replied Pete, a slight smirk playing on his lips. Lucy glared at him.

'This isn't funny Pete! What if she gets hurts?'

'She probably just needs time by herself,' he reassured, walking forward to sling his arm around her. 'You 'member when I used to go away for a couple of days before you knew I was part of a firm so you didn't see the worse effects of the injuries I used to get? Well, Libby's just 'iding most of her injuries from you, letting herself heal a little before she shows 'er brave face again.' Lucy stared up at him, eyes widened slightly.

'You sound like such a pansy,' she whispered.

--

'Are you sure she aint dead?'

'Yeah, Peter, I'm not that stupid.'

'Maybe you should give her mouth to mouth. Maybe I should give her mouth to mouth!'

'In your dreams Rick! She'd probably reject you even in death.'

'Hey, I'm not the one who can count how many times I've been laid on one hand.'

'Fuck off!'

Libby opened her eyes, staring up at the five men peering down at her. 'Hello?' she squeaked.

'She lives!' rejoiced the shortest one at the end, dark eyes filled with humour. He had dark hair.

'Where'd you find 'er?' asked a dark skinned man, glancing at Don who was smiling.

'She found me,' he replied.

'Oh, is she one of your 'friends'?' asked a tall man with small, sticking out ears.

'She's not that kind of friend, Peter.'

There was a tall ginger man stood by Don who still hadn't said anything. Libby looked at him and he gave a tentative smile. Sitting up, she combed her fingers through her dark hair, grasping the blanket close around her.

'I'm Libby,' she introduced, before looking at Don with a questioning look.

'Oh,' he started, before jerking a thumb to each guy in turn. The short guy with dark hair was Rick, the dark skinned guy, James, the guy with cute ears was Peter and the red head was Scott, who reminded Libby a little of Archie Morris off ER.

'Nice to meet you,' she smiled. 'But, can you give me a moment? I'm naked under this blanket.' It was pretty easy to say their jaws dropped to the floor and their eyes popped out before Scott ushered them all out. Okay, she wasn't naked, but she knew she looked like crap as she did every morning. Ducking into the bathroom, Libby washed her face, brushed her hair and teeth and opened her suitcase which was propped against the bathroom wall. She dressed quickly.

'I can't believe you let her sleep on the sofa,' she heard Scott say as she opened the bathroom door.

'Yeah, what kind of a gentleman are you?' asked Peter. Don laughed.

'Whatever I said, I just couldn't get her into bed. I mean my bed. I would've happily slept on the sofa!'

'Yeah, whatever,' laughed Libby. The five men were sat on the sofa and all but Don stared up at her apprehensively. She raised an eyebrow. 'Breakfast anyone?' Scott shook his head and looked at his lap but all the rest seemed eager for something to eat.

'So?' said Rick, later on as she served up bacon and eggs. 'Don slept with you yet?'

'And you guys moaned at me for being a gentleman,' laughed Don.

'Nope,' Libs answered anyway as she picked up the milk carton, opened the top and sniffed it. Pulling a face, she chucked it in the bin and wrote on a list 'buy milk.'

'Well, I'd wear like…. barbed wire knickers or something,' he advised, stuffing egg into his mouth. 'Why did you come to his anyway?' Rick continued. Libby froze for a moment, feeling tears sting her eyes; she had gone many days without it being mentioned…

'Just a visit,' put in Don, and Libby felt a surge of gratitude towards him. 'Now stop eating with your mouth full, pig.'

To say it still hurt to talk about Swill was an understatement. It killed her every time.

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