This is my second attempt at writing this chapter, I wasn't satisfied with the other one so I think I'm completely changing it. (If you are interested in reading the original one let me know, perhaps it was better, I don't know…) It wasn't leading to the place I wanted it to… (Actually, now that I've written most of this chapter, WOW they are different…)

Serious stuff, I suppose. (In case I never mentioned it, I do not own Skins, never have, and unlikely I ever will. Although if I become a billionaire, I will buy the show, and make it all about our favorite characters. No, better, I'll higher Lily and Kathryn and just make a Naomily show of it's own.) :)

Chapter 6: Colored Stripes

Eight had left the two other agents once they got to their hotel room. His part of the mission was completed, the Agency intended for him to return after the infiltration, so that is exactly what he did. Ten opened up the duffel case and hoisted the unconscious body over his shoulder before easing it down into a large leather chair. Normally the hostage wouldn't be treated to such comfortable seating, but they had ordered the nicest hotel room, so cheap furniture wasn't available for the time being. He did a few tests he had been taught to make sure the walls were absolutely sound proof, as well as turning up the TV for extra precaution.

Another fact of human nature: people generally rationalized for things they didn't want to believe. So if someone heard screaming through the walls, they would try and brush it off assuming the neighbors were listening to a horror movie. Sad, but more often than not, true.

Nine on the other hand was roping the hostage's limbs together, feet together, arms together, and feet attached to arms by a separate chord. The used a special wiring chord for binding hostages, rope was never for professional jobs; too easy to pick at, cut through, and never got tight enough. The chord was a much better guarantee that the captive wouldn't escape their binds. Fire wouldn't even burn through it like rope; it would just get hot enough to burn the skin it was encasing.

After using the chord, she used a few rolls of heavy-duty duck tape, making sure it wouldn't allow the girl to move more than half a centimeter. She pressed it so that it stuck to any of the girl's exposed skin. That way the girl would be less likely to struggle against it, there was only so much burn from tape a person could handle. That is, unless there life was at stake, then they wouldn't mind the burn, but that is why she used more than one tape roll. It was amazing the strength an adrenaline kick could provide, Nine never took chances if they were avoidable.

Once they were sure everything was properly taken care of, Nine and Ten sat down on the couch leaning back. They were relaxed because at the moment they had no further orders or direction. Just to keep an eye on the hostage until they got their next text. Cook and Red were watching the news channel that was playing on the TV behind the captive. It was a little frustrating having to watch it through the red-tinted glasses but they weren't going to disobey the commands given to them.

A reporter started discussing a topic more than familiar to them.

"I'm standing as close as I can get to Times Square, currently off limits to all the public. Just a few hours ago a catastrophic bombing killed over one-hundred people. Hurting countless amounts of friends and families who are shortly going to be holding a ceremony a few blocks away to remember their loved ones. Not even everyone is aware of what has happened yet, but the news is spreading quickly, nationally and internationally."

It cuts to a woman in a studio with a cup of coffee sitting in front of her.

"Can you tell us what those people were doing there?"

It flicks back to the man in the city.

"Apparently today was a set up demonstration for the homosexual-rights community. Famous organization Love and Peace had sent some of their top representatives to discuss the issues they are currently trying to resolve and we are greatly saddened that no one will get to hear the speech they intended to deliver during the demonstration."

A new reporter is on screen approaching a police man trying to keep people away from a large fire that firefighters are working hard to put out.

"Excuse me officer, do you believe the bombing set off was an act of hate towards the trans, bi, and homosexual community or just a coincidence intended to cause civil disruption amongst the general public?"

The officer was very distraught and was trying to shove back some more aggressive civilians trying to get closer to the fire. Probably looking for relatives who Nine and Ten were more than sure were dead and in ashes now.

"What kind of fucking question is that?" He spat.

He started walking away to work on another group getting closer. The reporter tried to go to a different officer who looked to be a higher ranking official, watching the fire still ablaze among all the commotion and panic.

"Officer, do you think there is a connection between the attack in Time Square where Love and Peace organization members were legally demonstrating as well as the burning down of their central headquarters on the same day?"

"I can't disclose that, but we currently have a more-than standard amount of officers investigating the attacks. I can assure you, the New York police force are doing their best and are definitely taking the security precautions to a much higher level to make the city safe."

"Are you saying New York isn't safe?"

"No, New York is going to be one of the safest places to be." He was obviously trying to dodge the question.

"But is it safe now?" The reporter held the microphone close to his mouth, the camera zooming in on him, not wanting to miss the shattering statement they were expecting.

"The United States of America is sending out special experts and more security than it would need if the entire country were under a nuclear attack. We are doing our best to make an understanding of what happened and what went wrong in our defense. Although it was clear that Love and Peace didn't have the proper security means within their own building."

"Are you saying it was their fault someone killed them?"

"Yes and no. Will you stop fucking with my words! Jeezus, we are doing the best we can at the moment."

"What if you're best isn't good enough?" She asked, dramatically changing her voice. Boy was this reporter something.

"Then America's just a disaster waiting to happen isn't it? I have business to attend to, if you'll excuse me." The officer clearly extremely upset over the exchange turned around and started talking to a different group of officers nodding their heads aggressively at him.

The camera turned to the reporter holding the microphone up to herself, looking straight at the camera.

"There you have it America. New York is no longer safe and by the judgments of this officer neither is the rest of the United States. I'd get your passports together if I were you. Tune in later when we'll be talking to some of the families after the memorial ceremony taking place close to Times Square.

The screen started showing pictures of the fire when it was bigger and the streets after the bombing.

"Cook, I don't think we were supposed to watch that."

"We weren't." He started peeling off his glasses and looked at his partner. They couldn't comprehend what they were feeling right now. Something changed in them, and they didn't know what. They had already broken one rule so it didn't hurt to break another. Red took off her glasses as well and blinked trying to take in all the new color of the room.

"I don't understand."

"Me neither."

*BZZZT* They both jumped at the sudden sound of the mobile phone vibrating against the glass of the coffee table. Nine picked it up immediately, desperately wanting some direction to take away the thoughts that were going through her mind, anything to rid herself of the emotions she was feelings that she was positive were the first time she had felt them in her life.

-Well done. Kill the hostage. Do not speak to it before doing so. Just terminate it.-

Nine put down the phone which Ten picked up and read after she had done so. She walked over to the hostage and pulled off the black fabric. She smacked the unconscious face hard, leaving a hand-shaped red mark on the pale skin. Two blue eyes starting squinting trying to take in her surroundings.

Brown eyes met blue in a hard intense gaze. Neither could read the emotions the other one was hiding behind them. The girl with red hair suddenly clutched her stomach hard and ran to the bathroom. What is this feeling? She tried relieving herself again, but it was no use, the feeling stayed. The red-head squeezed her eyes shut tight and tried to make it go away, but all she saw were two ice blue eyes staring into her through darkness.

*KNOCK*

Nine opened the door to see Ten standing there with concern for her. He knew something was unusual too, he always could tell what his partner was feeling, but even he couldn't analyze the emotion that was flooding through her. The thing she was mistaking for a bowel movement, the thing that was eating her alive and couldn't figure out. She looked up into her partners eyes trying to find an answer. No use. One of the only feelings she could place was loneliness. Cook wasn't feeling what she was; she was the only one feeling it and that was making her lonely. It was frustrating to feel like you know everything and then instantly know nothing anymore. All he could do was squeeze her shoulders and try and emit some comfort to her with his hands.

"Cook, I don't understand."

"Me, neither. Maybe it'll just go away after a bit."

"No, not… not that. Why would we have to kill everyone there and then kill her separately? They could've just had us let her die in the building with everyone else."

"I don't know." He shrugged. His eyebrows scrunched together deep in thought, without any luck.

"I want to know."

"But we aren't supposed to ask it questions. Just terminate it."

"I can't. Something's 'off'."

Neither of them had struggled killing anyone, most of the time it was Ten who did that part, but that was just because it was easier with him being bigger and scarier, not because of either of their personal preferences. It was a job and that was all there was to it.

"You want me to do it?" As unusual as it was, Ten was willing to accept anything from Red, even if it wasn't what he expected.

"Not yet."

They walked back into the room where the hostage had her head leaned back on the top of the chair staring at the ceiling, she was tall, and easily was a few inches higher than the back of it. Nine noticed that Ten must've turned off the TV before he went to check on her, so no light was shed on her regarding what had happened in the past couple of hours.

When the hostage realized she wasn't the only one in the room she looked to see the agents who had joined her. Nine took a seat on a chair next to her, leaning forward, in her direction. Ten took a seat on the long couch, his hands mindlessly playing with a gun, not intended to frighten her. He usually did meaningless things with his hands when he was trying to think; more often than not it involved playing with a weapon.

Nine couldn't contain what she placed as curiosity.

"Why aren't you screaming for help?" They always did that. Every single time. This was the first one who didn't scream the second she woke up.

"Because you obviously would've taped my mouth if noise was a concern." Clever.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" Nine was trying to look away from the hard gaze she was getting.

"Because I feel like I know you." Naomi displayed confidence and fear at the same time.

"You can't know me. Nobody knows me. Not even Ten here, knows me." She looked to Ten who nodded in agreement.

"But I just do." She whispered.

"You know we have to terminate you."

"The fuck does that mean, 'terminate', this isn't some kind of game. I'm a human, you both are humans too. You are disgusting humans, but I believe there is reason for it. However, to say you are going to 'terminate' me is cowardly. You are either going to kill me or let me live."

"We have to kill you." Nine mumbled, more to herself than to the hostage.

" Secondly, you don't have to do anything. It's a fucking choice. You're human, you're fucking human, not some kind of robot that someone built. Humans can do whatever the fuck they want, always in control of themselves in one way or another, I may be stuck in this chair, but my mind definitely isn't submissive. You have fucking emotions. Humans have emotions, and if you kill me you are going to feel guilt and remorse the rest of your fucking life." Naomi's voice was growing more hostile, her body was getting riled up, stirring against the restraints.

It was Ten who whispered to himself now, "We've already killed people, never hesitating."

"Who? Who did you kill? WHO DID YOU FUCKING KILL?" Naomi was raging.

"We've only ever known the name of two of them, it was never important, probably never will be, to us." Red answered honestly.

"WHO?" Naomi had tears streaming down her face.

"Freddie McClair and Gina Campbell." Cook whispered shakily. Those were the only one's whose names they saw or were told.

Nine recognized the emotion in his voice, the very same emotion she was feeling in herself. Guilt. Remorse. Both feelings turned rapidly into anger. Naomi needed to stop asking questions, they were the ones in control not her. Nine ripped away some of the tape causing the hostage to cry out in pain. The fabric of her t-shirt slightly ripped was now showing. The red-head took a handful of it and tightly pulled the blonde as close to her as the tape would allow.

"Your shirt, what does it mean?" Nine was remembering the stripes from the building, they were everywhere. Only they had been different shades of red in the building. Without the glasses they made a colorful rainbow. The shirt too had the same colorful stripes all along the front.

"W-w-what?" the hostage was completely taken aback. Nine's hand that wasn't holding her, crashed against the face wet with tears.

"What is the significance of it?"

Naomi looked down at her shirt, watching herself trembling beneath the fabric and the hand that was holding her tight in place.

"G-gay pride." Naomi sputtered out. Nine let go of her, grabbed a gun from the table and hit the hostage over the head with it. Naomi's head fell to her own chest, blood trickling from the hit down her cheek. Nine winced almost feeling the force of the blow she had delivered as if she had just done it to her own head.

"I need silence." She whispered, dropping the gun in her hand and falling into Cook's arms.

"You're right Red, something is 'off', about us."

"Gay." Repeated Emily so silently, she had only mouthed it.

Anger. Guilt. Confusion. Remorse. Sadness. Despair.

BOOM. BAM. Topped the last one! POW! I think I did at least. ;)

Soooo, (looks down on floor nervously kicking feet,) what did you think? (shy smile)

KAPOW. I'm having a good time topping myself, and I can't wait to hear what your opinions are.

(Just a note, that last time I said Emily, on purpose. why do you think?) Any guesses where the hell this story is going to go next? Lay it on me ;)

Sincerely, Shira (the girl who just loves to write big sounds after eventful chapters. LOL)