It's only after they've been broken up for about a week that Shirley realizes that going out with a coworker is a generally bad idea. The fact most of their other coworkers are convinced that they're still steaming in unresolved sexual tension really only makes matter worse.
They had already agreed that they would act normal; after all, if they managed to hide their relationship while it was actually happening, surely they could pretend it never happened after it stopped.
But when even their boss is determined to stick them alone in the same room for long periods of time, Shirley can't help but feel extremely tempted to send a joint email to everyone in the office saying that they're long past needing nudges in the right direction.
Shirley's too considerate, though, and she's well aware the other party would be less than pleased if their secret relationship got spread around the office, as small as it was. So she keeps quiet about everything, despite how annoying spending copious amounts of time around ex is or how easy it is to remember when the alone time was appreciated rather than hated.
Their break-up was meant to be a mutual decision, and the last thing Shirley wants to do is to start regretting it.(And there's no way in hell she's going to admit to herself that she may be already.)
That doesn't mean that "acting normal" is easy, though. When they were still together, there was that thrill of quick touches and even quicker kisses in secluded corners or empty hallways, the shared amusement of seeing how much they could get away with before getting caught. Now that they're apart, however, they spend their time seeing how much space they can fit between them before it looks unnatural or how stilted their conversations can get before someone catches on.
Shirley finds the easiest way of ignoring it is ordering something stronger than her usual beer during office-wide bar trips, pretending that she didn't notice that their coworkers put them next to each other again, and flirting with the most attractive man around. (Somewhere along the line, she convinced herself that the most painless way of getting her coworkers to stop their matchmaking was to let them believe that she was straight. So far, it hasn't been working.)
As time goes on, it actually does get easier to talk to the other party without the extra help of alcohol. Their now-sparse interactions may cause her to remember their more intimate moments, but she expects that, like the previous awkwardness, will go away too.
So she wills herself to ignore that stabbing feeling in her chest when she sees her ex chatting up someone else, and she goes back to spending the free time she used to spend with her in the garage with Lucchini, refusing to admit that she might be just a little bit lonely.
When she finally hears through the grapevine that she has already found someone else, Shirley mentally waves it off, making note to congratulate her about it when they run into each other. She ignores the voice in her head that so kindly reminds her that she was never so willing to be open about their relationship.
They never end up running into each other that day, and when Shirley gets home, she decides that it's a good day for a quick ride on her motorcycle. By the time the rushing wind and pounding adrenaline stop helping her forget her workday, she's halfway to her hometown, so she finds a cheap hotel for the night, fully prepared to call in sick the next morning.
A day turns into a week, and Shirley can't help but wonder why she never went on an impromptu road trip before. (She also can't help but wonder why she's running away, but Liberion's a big place and there's a lot to see, so it's easy to ignore that question.)
She returns a week and a half later, tired and numb and feeling way too free to be okay with her nine to five job, but she knows she can't just spend the rest of her life on the road, especially since she left without telling a soul.
Lucchini's reaction is exactly as she expected: a forceful hug and angry accusations about not letting her in while she was "sick." Shirley pats her on the head and promises to fill her in after work.
Mio worriedly claps her on the shoulder and asks if she's alright, Minna tells her that she's going to ignore the fact that she used up more than her saved up sick days, Eila fills her in with the office gossip and reminds her that she has over a week's worth of pranks to make up for. She looks on sullenly, obviously torn between approaching her or staying just far enough away to not raise any suspicions.
Shirley smiles at her and to herself, feeling truly free for the first time since they got together months ago, and as empty as the feeling is, it's exactly what she was aiming for.
A/N: Well, would you look at who's still alive! (Yes, slow author is slow and getting slower.)
I guess I'll apologize firstly for dropping off the face of the fandom and secondly for updating with something that is neither a request nor happy. I will blame this on reading too much BAD END yuri manga and a good ol' fashioned case of writer's block. However, if there's enough demand, I might just write a sequel that will hopefully be filled with fluff. (And maybe makeup sex. You never know.)
The other half of Shirley's angst-bucket is left somewhat ambiguous on purpose, though I did have a character in mind when writing this. Those of you who know my pairing preferences can guess who; others can imagine whoever they really want.
Oh, and those requests that you probably don't remember making? Those will hopefully happen eventually.