MY GOD. No more estimating the length of how long it will take for me to update. I apologize to anyone who cares. I have no excuse. Anyway, all opinions are still welcomed and really, don't be shy, I love you, just love me back, or hate me, that's fine too. Thanks so much to vampirebeast01 for reviewing each chapter so far, it means a lot. Oh, and just because I haven't said it yet..

Disclaimer: Skins isn't mine, I don't own it.

Thanks for reading you amazing, perfect, little balls of lovely. Enjoy!

Naomi

I shouldn't be here. I'm risking a lot by coming here again, but I have to do this for myself. I've stood outside these red framed doors long enough. No more hesitating.

I walk up to the counter, only taking a second to analyze the room as I go. No redhead detected, it's okay, she's not here. The same waitress from yesterday is working again.

"Hello again," she smiles kindly.

The ocean!

That's what it was, her eyes, they remind me of the ocean.

I place both my hands on the counter and lean in closer so the few people enjoying the paper with their drinks don't hear us. If this career has taught me anything it's how to be careful who you trust.

"Yes, right, hello," I rush out. I check her name tag, "Listen, Charlie, I have a very important question for you. There's a lot relying on your answer."

She looks at me seriously, "I'll do my best. Ask away."

"That girl, small, red hair, bout this tall," I make a hand motion near my chin. "I think she had brown eyes. She was here yesterday, who is she?"

I'm sure she had brown eyes.

"I think you're looking for Emily," she whispers.

It feels like goose bumps have erupted all over the inside of my stomach.

Emily. That suits her.

"Emily…" I say, testing it out. "Emily, what?"

"Fitch." She leans her forearms on the counter, "She's here all the time, always sits right there," she points to her right; directly at the table Effy and I were sitting at yesterday. "Courtney, the owner, could probably tell you more, she talks to Emily now and then, but she's not in today. I feel bad for the girl; she's always got a black eye or a cut lip or something of the sort. I offered her an ice pack the other day but she just brushed me off," she shrugs.

"Thank you," I say, giving her a small but genuine smile. "That's all I needed," I take my hands off the counter and head for the door.

"Yeah, sure, any time," she says hurriedly before the door closes behind me.

Kieran called me in today to talk about a new potential case. He said if they decide to go through with the plan I might have one hell of a job ahead of me. I figured I'd stop at the shop and find out who the redhead was on my way. This way, when I get to work, I can get Jay to search her up for me. The base I work at is an insanely huge, three-story building. It looks like absolute shit from the outside, but inside, it's like walking into a spaceship. Around the back of the building is a heavy, navy blue door that everyone uses to get in. Beside it, there's a little keypad that requires a security code and a matching finger print to grant access.

When I arrive, I enter '172945' into the keypad and press my finger against it. The door opens with a sound you'd expect a spaceship's door to make. On the other side everything is white except for an identical navy blue door directly in front of me and I'm met with a familiar choice. Take the stairs to my left, going down to the basement; continue straight through the door ahead, or take the stairs to my right, going up to the third floor.

The basement is our gym. All the equipment, like the punching dummies and yoga mats, are down there, along with a gigantic metal door that requires a key and two security codes to open. It stores our guns, ammunition, explosives, tools, armor, technology… You know, all the expensive and important paraphernalia. Only Kieran has the key. However, JJ works in the lab, not in the gym like Thomas- who is in charge of taking care of the equipment and teaching the less experienced agents how to fight –the lab is on this floor, so I continue through the door in front of me.

The three of us are part of an undercover organization that's connected to the FBI. It's not a large group of people; Kieran only recruits the best. A majority of us are professionals but we do have some people who require training before they are considered an official part of our team. You can't apply for this job. Kieran has undercover officials monitoring the people applying to become police officers or anyone new to the FBI and still learning. Anyone with significant skills or knowledge is recommended. If Kieran approves, he offers them a job here. Of course, we have a confidentiality code, so anyone offered a job is legally prevented from saying anything.

We have to stay hidden for everyone's safety. There's a deeper level of crime that people are oblivious of. This all has to stay confidential. If people knew how much danger they could potentially be in, all hell would break loose. It's our goal to stop the bigger threats before people find out they even existed. The government knows about us, and obviously everyone knows there's such a thing as special agents, but we cover dangerous, top-secret cases. Nothing we do can be publicized. No one in Bristol can know we exist or that we're located here.

The lab is a lot darker than the stairway. Not because it's excessively dark, but because the stairway is excessively bright. Half of the vast room is desks and computers while the other half is examination tables and a shitload of cabinets containing test tubes and telescopes and whatever else these people require to work. It's a computer lab and a science lab, hence the common phrase 'the lab.' The various scientists and the techies like JJ who search up all the important information and do all the necessary hacking work on this floor. I only come in here to see JJ; otherwise, it's not my department.

On the occasion that I am called in for a new assignment, I always go to the third floor. To a stranger, it's just an oversized room with tables, billboards, and file cabinets; one big, cliché-looking office. Little would they know, that monotonous room has saved their lives, probably, multiple times. The people in the basement train for a reason, and the people in the lab do their research for a reason, thanks to the detectives and investigators on the top floor. The people on the third floor take every target and brainstorm them, discuss them. They go over every aspect, from criminal records to the personality traits of a person. They break our subjects apart until they uncover their weaknesses and comprehend what makes them tick.

I'm not here very often. Sometimes I'll brainstorm with Kieran and some of the investigators, but that's all I ever do here. The way I have to go about catching someone can be manipulative and tricky, involving undercover work and getting into someone's head with the right words. Other times it's up-front, dreadful, and gruesome. Kieran sits with the others and they all discuss their ideas with him and when an agreement is made on how to go about the situation, Kieran tells me what I am to do. Sometimes I'm undercover and sometimes I'm armed. That's just my job.

"Oh, hey Noams," JJ meets me halfway to his desk with two coffees, "had a feeling you'd be in today." He smiles thoughtfully and hands me one of the coffees. You know, as sick of coffee as I am, I'm more thankful for JJ now than that time he warned me about the gunman around the corner that I failed to notice that time in London.

"Kieran tell you he called me in today then?" I take a test sip of my coffee.

"Well, considering I'm going to be working on the same case as you, I assumed you'd arrive on the day we're all going to be told what's going on," he says like it's the most obvious thing.

"You are?" Kieran didn't say anything except that he needed me to come in as soon as possible.

"Oh, did he not tell you?" His eyebrows furrow together.

"He just told me to get my ass down here ASAP."

"Oh, well I don't' know any more than you then. We've been sitting in his office waiting for you all morning; he said he wouldn't say anything until you were here." He looks disappointed that I couldn't tell him more.

"Campbell! My office! We've been waiting for you all bloody morning!" Kieran hollers across the room, causing a few people to look up from their papers and whatnot.

"Okay, okay," I say, putting my hands up in mock-surrender. I turn to JJ and impersonate Kieran's angry face while making a small scratching motion with my hand, earning a few chuckles from the people watching. If looks could kill, Kieran's glare would have disintegrated me on the spot. "Sorry," I mumble as we pass him.

There's always been a huge table in the center of Kieran's office. Everyone knows about the huge table, it's where the important meetings have always been held. There are four people already sitting on the left side; Abby and Dallas, they assist me on missions that are too big for one person. Abby's one of the sharpest people you will ever meet, she's phenomenal at finding a quick way out of complex situations. Dallas excels when it comes to strategy and he's got fantastic aim. Next to them are Thomas and the new girl, Panda. I think I remember Thomas telling me she assists him in instructing his classes in the gym.

"Hello, Naomi," Thomas greets me with a friendly smile.

JJ and I sit across from him and Panda, who's sitting a little closer to Thomas than necessary, but he doesn't seem too bothered.

"Hey, Thommo," I smile right back at him. You will never find someone with a kinder heart than Thomas, I guarantee it.

"Right then," Kieran closes the door behind himself and walks to the head of the table. He looks pointedly at me, "Thanks for joining us Miss Campbell."

I smile innocently at him, "Anything for you, Kieran," I wink.

That breaks him and he finally lets out a laugh. Kieran's really a big softy; he cares about us all a lot more than he lets on. He's just determined to keep things professional, so he puts on this hard ass act. Don't get me wrong, you don't want to piss off Kieran, but he isn't as intimidating as he wants to be.

"JJ, get the slides," he points to a small projector at the other end of the table.

JJ gets up and pulls down the projector screen as Kieran turns out the lights. He clicks a button and the first picture pops up. It's a picture of three men lying on their stomachs, well, three bodies, but their definitely men. Their shirts have been pulled up to reveal their lower backs. JJ presses the button again and the next picture is of the same bodies but it's zoomed in on their backs. They all have the exact same tattoo. Same place, same size, same font, same color, same letter. A tiny black 'M', is inked into the left hand side of each of their backs.

Where have I seen that before?

"As you can see, these men all have the same tattoo," Kieran announces. "I understand we see this sort of thing all the time. It's probably just a gang representation symbol. But here's the catch; in the last four months over twenty-five percent of the criminals apprehended by us and the police departments have this exact tattoo somewhere on their body. It's often somewhere easy to miss; like in between their fingers or in the groove of their ankle."

JJ presses a button again and this time the picture is of a man in a chair. His wrists are tied to each arm rest and there's a plastic bag over his head; the inside is almost completely stained with blood. Another press and a picture zoomed in on the man's neck appears; the same tattoo, just below his jaw.

"Thank you Jonah," Kieran says, flicking the lights back on. JJ turns off the projector and sits back down.

"So," Kieran claps his hands loudly, "this 'gang'," he air quotes, "has gone from clubhouse status to becoming our problem in four months. Which means…?" He gestures at the six of us, expecting an answer.

"That they're growing in numbers at a rapid rate and becoming more dangerous," Abby answers.

Kieran points at her excitedly, "Correct!"

I catch Abby smile lightly at Kieran's enthusiasm. Told you, he's really not as scary as he tries to be.

"Right now we're in a little over our heads. If we use force and start a war with these people, it's likely we'll lose. The plan, roughly, so far, is to beat them from the inside out. I've sent two of our better guys to go and befriend a member of the gang, located near us, that I've tracked down with the help of Jonah here. We have to go undercover and get enough information to plan out how to do this successfully. You six are my backup. I need a plan B in case something happens with the two agents already on the case. If I need your help, you'll know within the next week." He turns around and takes a step towards the door before jerking back. "Oh! One more thing. If any of you tell a soul about this little project, you're fired. Understand?"

We all nod.

"Good. Remember, nothing's written in stone; I'm just giving you a heads up. Now get out."

I fall into step with JJ as I walk with him back to his desk.

"Jay, I need a favor."

"Okay," we stop at his desk and he sits down. "How can I be of assistance?"

"If I needed you to find someone for me, do you think you could do it?"

He moves the mouse around to wake up the computer. Multiple windows pop up with graphs and numbers and a bunch of other shit I'm not meant to understand. He looks at the screen, then back up at me.

"Duh," he smiles smugly.

For a minute I didn't think he'd do it. You know, in case it goes against some rule or something, which it probably does, but I can count on him. I sit on his desk next to the monitor and smile gratefully at him as I ruffle his short, curly hair.

"You're brilliant Jay."

It took a few minutes to narrow it down, there's a shitload more Emily Fitches' out there than you'd think, but eventually he found the right one and turns out she's only ten minutes away from my house. I wonder why I've never seen her around. Maybe she just moved here or something.

Her complex doesn't look as extravagant as mine, but take into consideration, not a lot of people make as much money as I do. Her room is on the fourth floor, number four-fifteen.

Found you, Emily Fitch.

I take a deep breath once I'm face to face with number four-fifteen, which is weird; I don't get nervous. Whatever, best just get this over with. I just want what's mine then I'll have nothing to do with her.

I knock three times and lean against the wall across the hallway. There's some rustling on the other side, then a series of clicking as someone unlocks the doors' multiple locks. There's no peep-hole. That's strange, who would have that many locks, but no peep-hole?

The door opens slowly and there she is. Her eyes are definitely brown. She's wearing black sweats and a baggy dark green sweater; her hair's tied up in a lazy ponytail and she looks tired. I stay where I am, no need to intrude her space, or life for that matter, anymore than necessary.

She looks honestly surprised, which doesn't last long. She crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows expectantly, like she's waiting for me to admit I did something wrong.

I smile at her; the same impish smile that probably pisses her off beyond belief by now.

"Surprise."

Emily

"Surprise."

Fuck, that smirk. That fucking smirk pisses me off beyond belief.

She takes a tentative step closer and I grab my door firmly; she stops.

"What do you want?" I snap at her.

"You have something that belongs to me," she takes another step towards me.

Oh this is too perfect.

I take the opportunity to shoot her obnoxious playful grin right back at her. I'm still wearing her necklace, but she doesn't know that; it's under my sweater. I step into the hallway and close my door behind me. I don't want her so much as seeing inside my flat, even if some small, delusional part of me doesn't want her to leave.

"Do I?" I pretend not to understand. "Oh! Yes, that's right," My smile turns to one of satisfaction as I lean back against the door casually. "I do."

Her cool act dies and it only takes her two quick, soundless strides to go from five feet away to one.

"I know you're wearing it," She points at my neck, "you really underestimate me, Emily," she says warningly.

Hang on, she knows my name now? Of, fuck no. I have more than enough random people knowing my name. I uncross my arms and stand up straight.

"Oh, I'm sure, you know my fucking name now?!" I push her shoulders causing her to take a small step back.

"Listen," she sighs and runs a hand through her hair, "calm down, I'm not your enemy."

"Tell me how you know my name," I demand. "Knowing my name without a justifiable reason doesn't exactly make you a friend in my book."

"Just give me my necklace and I'll be out of your life," she says as she cautiously approaches me again.

"Tell me who you are."

"I don't tell anyone who I am," She says quietly, looking me dead in the eye.

"I bet you don't." She's back to a foot or so away from me. She seems determined to keep a bit of distance between us. "But I'm not anyone," I step the smallest bit closer. Let's see just how uncomfortable I can make her. "I have your necklace."

Whatever discomfort I assumed was there she's clearly disregarded as she grabs my wrists and pins them above my head so fast I don't have time to react; I'm trapped between her and the door. I can feel her breathing heavily against my nose; the act couldn't have tired her out that much.

She just stares at me. Well, it feels like more than just staring, like she's looking into my eyes. I feel more than see her whole body stiffen as an apprehensive expression takes over her features. I can't look away from her conflicted blue eyes. I should, I really, really should, but I can't. As scary as the thought is, I'm not sure if I want to look away. Her eyes are too captivating, and interesting; a blue that screams mystery but implies so much more. There's an untold story hiding in those eyes, and I can't shake the feeling that maybe it's too tragic to burden anyone else with, so she just lets it consume her. Regardless, I want to know what her eyes are dying to tell but her mouth refuses to let go. Looking into her eyes is definitely interesting, just maybe a bit too interesting.

The moment goes by a lot faster than it feels it should. I blink and everything I just saw in those eyes is lost. It's just a pair of ordinary, vacant, blue eyes now. She shifts both my wrists to one hand while the other reaches around my neck. I scrunch my eyes, bracing myself for whatever blow she's about to unleash, but it doesn't come. She touches the back of my neck hesitantly; she's not looking into my eyes anymore. I feel an involuntary shiver, like the pins and needles you feel in your foot after its fallen asleep, slither all the way down my spine.

This is bad.

She flicks something on the back of my neck and, just as fast as it all happened, my wrists are free and she's back to being five feet away.

"Thanks," she says, showing me the necklace that she just successfully stole back.

There goes my only leverage.

I open my mouth to demand more answers but I'm interrupted by a crash coming from the top of the stairs at the end of the hall.

"Shit." Cooks hunched over picking up the contents of a grocery bag he just dropped everywhere.

"Shit!" The blond across from me whispers loudly. She looks around frantically, covering the side of her face that Cook might see.

Her eye catches something at the end of the hall, opposite from Cook; the fire exit.

I don't hesitate.

"Cook!" I yell, "Cook!"

He jolts up so fast you'd think he'd just been electrocuted.

"Holy fucking Christ Em!" He gasps, clutching his chest.

"Don't just fucking stand there, moron!" I scream. "She'll fucking bolt agai-" I stop abruptly at the sound of a door clicking. I spin around and just catch the fire exit door close.

"Fucks sake!" I smash my fists against the wall. There's no point in chasing her, I know when to quit.

Cook appears next to me and drops the bag near the wall beside us. He grabs my shoulders and forces me to look at him.

"What's wrong?" He's dead serious, "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine Cook," I shrug him off. I exhale heavily, "Just some girl shit."

He's still looking at me like I might break down and start crying any second.

"C'mon then, show me what's in the bag," I smile nonchalantly.

Despite the uncertainty that's still lingering slightly on his features, he breaks into a standard Cook grin.

"Keith gave me some good shit Emilio man; we're going to have one hell of a trip. Christina was telling me about this one time when she…" Cook rambles on as he opens our door.

I turn to follow him in, but not without one last look down the hall. I stare at the glowing red exit sign directly above the last place I'll ever remember seeing her. All she wanted was the necklace; she's got no reason to have anything to do with me now. I'm supposed to feel relieved; not disappointed. However, despite my best efforts, I can't ignore whatever it was I saw in her eyes for that second that lasted forever. I guess I should be worried about how she seems to have found out my name now too. She could be connected to Candice, but she isn't out to hurt me and she said herself, she's not my enemy. The whole scenario should worry me, scare me even, but thinking back on everything that happened, the only scary part is that the entire time she had me pinned against the door, the thought of pushing her off me or struggling at all didn't cross my mind once.

There you go. I'll TRY and update soon, no promises or estimations this time. I hope this meets your fancy or however that saying goes.

Thank you ever so much for reading, I love you all.

~Shae