AN: It's short, I'm sorry. But it's really, really important. By the By, is there a reason no one really reviews this anymore? I mean I Am Pheonixphlame does every chapter, but no one else really does. Just one or two... Is it sucking? It's okay if it is, I'll fix it. But you have to tell me.

Dedicated to the above mentioned I Am Pheonixphlame for said reviewing. You're awesome.

Warnings: Language, lemon (kinda)

Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".

Chapter Ten
Nevermind, I Don't Feel Anything

She's dancing again. God, she loves to just dance. To let go and forget how completely fucked her life's gotten. Emma's hot little body is pressed up against her, and Tea can already tell she'll be a good lay, just from the way she's moving against her now.

Something unnamable surges through her at the thought, but she refuses to acknowledge it. It almost feels as if it should be Tony pressing against her, hard in all the places Emma is soft. She smacks that thought down. She doesn't feel anything. Not about Emma. Not about Tony. Not about anything or anyone.

She's Tea Marvelli, and screwing hot girls is what she does.

Except Tony's popped up out of nowhere like a demented gerbil, his hand on her arm and looking at her with those ridiculous little, lost puppy eyes. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

She's shifting her gaze between him and Emma as if to say dude, quit clit blocking me. But he's not getting the hint, hand still insistent on her arm and eyes damn near pleading. Tony doesn't plead. He doesn't beg. He doesn't do those things, but it's clear he's about to start if she doesn't go with him. And a small part of her wants to reject him here, to make him beg. To force him to be the one manipulated for once.

But she knows she's just like him, and who the hell is she to judge when they're exactly the same?

"Sure, Tone." The words come out easier than they should. She should be annoyed because, hello, hot girl with the sexy dancing time, but she's not. Stepping away from Emma is just as easy as it should be, a near silent protest from her raging hormones followed by nothing. "Give me a minute, babe?" Emma's a little drunk and Tony looks a little pitiful, so the other girl just nods and lets them go.

Tony hasn't let go of her yet, and it kind of scary the way he's pulling her along so single-mindedly. She's half-afraid Cadie's OD'd again or something equally dramatic and urgent. But she also knows that if that had happened everyone else would have been in an uproar, and right now Tony seems to be the only one panicking. Which is terrifying in it's own way.

He drags her up the stairs and halfway down the hall, before it occurs to her to stop him. "Tony. Tony, what the hell are you doing and where the fuck are you taking me?"

He doesn't answer with words, just stops and turns into a room so abruptly Tea nearly crashes into him. Then, he's kissing her, all want and need and some sort of desperate she can't even begin to understand. She doesn't even realize they're moving until her back hits the wall. The music has the whole house shaking, vibrating against her against him.

And this isn't the place for this. For him to hold onto her hips so tight she's sure there'll be bruises later. For her to tangle her fingers in his hair and pull him closer. For his teeth to bite down on her bottom lip and demand entrance into her mouth. For her readily let him in and meet his tongue with her own. It's the wrong place and the wrong time, and the door's still fucking open, but, damn it all, it's happening.

He tastes like vodka and cigarettes, familiar in a way that it shouldn't be. His hands are rough, calloused in ways the girls' she sleeps with never are. They slide under her shirt, glide over her stomach and then up, lifting the material impeding his touch. The kiss breaks for the second it takes to get the damn thing off, and then his lips are back on hers, attacking again before she can question this moment of pure, blind insanity.

But she's unbuttoning his shirt and dominating his tongue with hers, so maybe she just doesn't want to question it. He pulls his mouth away from hers, kisses his way down neck, nipping at the tender flesh as he goes. His hands are making quick work of the button of her skinny jeans this time, and her hands are matching his and-

"Tony?"

Fuck.