Hey! Long time, no see! How have you guys been? I have the chapter you have been waiting for :) Granted, it's a little short, but I really wanted to get this out to you as quick as I could; because I'm sure some of you are still reeling from Fire and could use a little Naomily love right now. Sorry for the rant of a chapter earlier, but we've got each other to get through it; right? Anyways. Many of you amazing people have helped me get over it to write this chapter out (along with some lovely Cuban Rum... the dark kind. White rum tastes like nail polish remover, yuk. ***Kids, don't drink. If you do, you'll end up a lonely loser like me lol) so thanks to every single one of you. From the bottom of my heart, to all you readers, reviewers, and PM'ing darlings, thank you.

Special thanks to mynameislizzie for pimping me out in her last chapter of Orange Wednesdays, and also to my awesome friend django1992 for reviewing every. single. chapter. Check these guys out if you haven't already. The Missing Redhead is freaking cool, and also has incredibly long and detailed chapters. And Lizzie's new story The Long Road Home, let's just say I'm in love with it. Not only are they two very awesome people, but very talented writers as well.

Oh, before I forget. The very lovely and exceptionally witty garden-nomes dubbed this in one of our lovely conversations - Skins Fire: driving teetotallers to drink. So fucking true! Did that to me.

On with the chapter!

Naomi POV

Nothing seems to register quite right. It never has, really. The way life likes to fuck with you, likes to remind you that you are worth so much, yet so little. I've been flailing about for years, in the midst of a life that was never my own. It's all led up to this moment, this very moment, and I would go through it all a million times over if it were the only possible way to end up here. Here, that feels so bloody much like home. Though, it is quite uncomfortable; laying on the snow like this. But none of that seems to matter, my extremidies don't seem to care about the immence feel of freeze against the back of my body. Here, I lay on the snow. Face upwards at the dark night sky, with the only light imminating off the falling snowflakes that tickle down upon my face. I watch as they get bigger, and prettier, with each passing moment. But its not the beauty of the scenery that I am paying attention to. Its not the way the lights make the cosway look almost suspended in air, and its not the way the night sky is so clear, that I can, and have, pointed a finger into the air and connected the bright shining stars together to create Cassiopeia. No, it really is none of those things that makes my skin stand at attention, all the million Goosebumps forming across my entire body. Though, it is quite beautiful, and peaceful, here. It's the woman laying beside me, the woman who has her head rested on my shoulder. The woman I have my arm around, and whom is holding onto my hand like its the easiest thing in the world. It's Emily Fitch. It always has been Emily Fitch. We are so different, me with my face towards the falling snow while hers is pressed flat against my shoulder; as if to shield her from the flecks. But that's what makes us so perfect, that we are so unique to one another that it makes us somehow closer, simmilar. We appreceate the things about each other that we don't posess; even envy some things about the other.

I envy her. I always have. I envy her strength, her commitment, her determination. I envy her abilities, I envy her courage. But somehow, just by being with her, I manage to absorb some of her into myself. I become braver, I become stronger. And that has always been the worst part about me. I have always been nothing without her.

She shifts a little, and I feel her warm breath brush against my neck before warm lips are pressed to my jawbone. It's a simple gesture, that sends me reeling. She doesn't move her proximity to my face, and stares into my eyes; daring me. Daring me to turn to her, daring me to look back at her. And I blame my nature, I really, really do, because I take her dare. Though I am fully aware that it will destroy me entirely.

"I guess it was your turn to take me somewhere beautiful." Is all she says. And it sends fire shooting down my spine.

"It was," I start "but this isn't why I brought you here."

She raises her eyebrow at me in defiance, and it makes the corners of my mouth curl up just a little.

"Oh?"

"Yup. I have something to show you, but you're so heavy... I can't get up to lead you off." I raise my eyebrow then, because I've always felt safer being slightly detached with teases over romantic truths. Because I hope that in some wierd way, this will even out what is about to come.

She shifts off me, blushing, and mumbles 'such a cock' under her breath as she lifts herself off me. I raise with her, and kiss her temple, before effortlessly moving onto my feet. I grab her hands and lift her up, and smile cheekily at her.

"What does that matter, anyway? If your quite solid for your size?" I ask, as I rub my thumb across the back of her cold, weather beaten hands.

"If all that was left of you was your smile, and your little finger... I'd still be head over heels in love with you." My cheeky grin has turned into a genuine smile, because of the stupid honesty that has just escaped my lips. I hate the way my mouth just blurts out this shit when I'm around her.

She must sense my discomfort, because after a fleeting moment of pure adoration in her eyes, she shifts to something equally as crippling; flirtation.

She leans in, rests her right hand along that place where my neck and shoulder meet, and rests her chin on my other shoulder as she whispers softly into my ear.

"That's because you know what I can do with my little finger."

And I do. I really, really fucking do. I know exactly what she can do and it's utterly a fucking art form. I can't retort, and I can't let this moment escape me, because I brought her here for a reason. We've been sat on this hill - Richmond Hill - for a far more supirior purpose than to just take in the night sky and the beauty of the place. I didn't bring her here to just plop us down and look at the river that has formed huge iceburgs that slowly drift downstream as the seconds of time turn into minutes. I brough her here for my tree.

We walk in silence, her small hand wrapped up protectively in mine. We haven't spoken much, come to think of it. I think, that in some way, this is our way of making up for the time we should have been together; for getting back to the us we were meant to be. The crunching of old snow beneath our feet is the only sound we can hear, apart from the occasional gust of wind that blows past us. It's not a far ways away from where we have been perched, but it seems to take forever as my nerves get the best of me. My insides are doing dances, to the point where I don't know if I'm going to vomit; or drop dead from a heart attack. As my body does internal jumping jacks, I recignise the spot where I have been leading us to. My tree, that is stood tall, and strong. Withstanding the cold and the wind like a concrete barrier, that is both ironic, and meaningful as to why I defaced it so long ago.

Here goes nothing.

We reach the tree, and I remain stoic. I can feel Emily shift beside me, unaware as to why I have stopped so suddenly infront of this tree. But I don't have it in me to open my mouth, or even look into her eyes. So I keep my eyes fixed on the spot that I hope she will follow my gaze to. After a moment, and a few confused sounding 'Naomi?'s later, she sees what I see. She lets go of my hand then, and it feels quite empty and cold without hers there; as she takes a few steps towards the trunk of the tree.

A few agonizing moments have passed, and now she's the one who's eyes are fixed on the tree, as my gaze has shifted to Emily.

"Did..." She croaks. "...did you write this?"

"Yes." Phew. Thank fuck I managed a response.

"When?"

"A few years ago, not long after..." I trail off, because this moment is precious. I don't want to ruin it by reminding her how much of a cock I can be.

"Oh." Is all she says, and I would have vomited right then and there from the sheer lack of words coming out of her mouth if it wasn't for the fact that she reached forward, and placed her hand on the carved spot on the trunk of the tree. She runs her hand across it, and then traces every letter with her fingertip.

I never lost you by loving, I lost you by holding back. If we ever find our way back to each other, I will bring you here. This is everything that I am, and that everything; is you. Emily Fitch, this is a declaration. I, Naomi fucking Campbell, will love the socks off you until the day I die.

I haven't been here since the day I carved this, and I curse myself under my breath for such a sad excuse for a confession carved into the base of a tree. But it was honest, it was true. And Emily never really loved me for my ability to form coherant sentences on my feelings. She loved me for me, and how I was ever able to throw that away, I'll never really know.

She steps back from it then, and smooths out her sweater as she does so. She takes in a deep breath, and lets it out as the small puff of smoke floats above her head at the exhale.

"I would have thought that my socks were the last thing you'd ever think about to take off me." She says to the air, and at any other moment; I would have loved for her to turn to humour as a response. But this, this is dangerous. This is sensitive, like handling bio-hazardous material with you're bare hands. I'm holding my breath, becuase I need to hear what she's feeling. And when she doesn't recieve a response from me, she must get the message. She turns around, looks me dead in the eye, and walks over to me calmly. She stops right infront of me, and just continues to stare into my eyes. And I can't help but think that her eyes have gotten more intense, more... terrifying. She searches me for what seems like a lifetime, pulling at everything inside of me as she stares. She could always read me like a book, and this is one of those times where she knows it. Where she knows it and is doing it, with no sembelance of hiding it. She turns my pages gently between her fingers, and grazes her eyes over every letter and punctuation mark I possess before she finally responds.

"You never really stopped loving me, did you?"

"I..." Time to be honest here, Naomi. "...I lost respect for you, which was bad enough. Though, why I ever felt that way is beyond me. You were right, you're always right. And I realized that a little too late."

She looks me over for a moment, checking for any signs of... well, dishonesty I'm guessing. Then she speaks again, and she is eerily calm as the words escape her mouth.

"Do you think it was your way of evening the playing field? We both know how much you detest being vulnerable; and in the shed you were very... open."

...Shit. She's right. She's always fucking right. I've even done the same thing just an hour ago. Reverting to humour and anything else I can to avoid feeling bare. I ruined everything we had together because I needed some kind of power back, some kind of self-respect. Because being weak has always been a hard pill for me to swallow, because loosing control has never been made a habit for me. Tipping the scales so they are forever in my favour? even Katie saw that, and I never really thought of her as the 'I see shit' type. Emily sees me, though. Sees my mind going a hundred miles a minute. I can practically feel the cogs in my head turning painfully, as the rust flakes off with each excruciatingly slow turn. She places her hand calmly on my forearm, and coos to me gently.

"Naomi, I didn't expect you to change who you are completely. Then you wouldn't be the wonderful woman I fell in love with. I've always loved EVERYTHING about you, including your insecurities and flaws. It's okay to be flawed."

She wraps her arms around me then, and the sensation of her warm little body pressed into mine, with her slight breathing against my neck; I want that forever.

"You don't have to be sorry anymore, Naomi. I forgive you."

I really hope this was both worth the wait, and eased your heartache from Fire a little. I took a fair bit of advice from reviewers, so credit is definitely due there. Also, during one of the days I got rained out of the beach and ended up watching Spanish Hollywood movies in the hotel room, the movie Serendipity was one of the many things I watched that day. The scene where JC lays down in the middle of the ice rink, and it starts to snow was a big inspiration for this chapter. Lastly, because I am shamelessly in love with Daniel Craig, I added my favourite lines from Casino Royale in here.

Much Love, friends.

xoV