As their lips came together, and Ian's spine was crushed against the wall, he became acutely aware of every little detail of what was happening.

It was if he knew he needed to remember it all in case it never happened again. He could feel Mickey's hands grabbing at his shirt, and he could tell that Mickey was having to reach up on his tiptoes to reach Ian's mouth.

This thought made him smile and as his lips parted slightly, Mickey took full advantage, deepening the kiss and pressing harder against him, one hand reaching up and grabbing frantically at the back of Ian's neck pulling their mouths closer together.

His smile evaporating, Ian leaned into Mickey and licked into his mouth. There was a brief moment when Mickey sucked on Ian's tongue and Ian felt his eyes rolling back in his head. He pushed himself away from the wall and wrapped his arms – which had previously been hanging boneless at his sides – around Mickey's waist.

He brought their bodies flush together, their lips never breaking contact, and they fell back against the wall. As their groins touched, it elicited a moan from Mickey that brought Ian back to earth with a bump.

Ian tried to break the kiss, but Mickey was up against him so close there was nowhere for his head – and therefore his face – to go.

"Nmmph," was all he could manage to mumble against Mickey's mouth. Mickey wasn't getting the message though, so Ian brought his arms around to Mickey's chest and with as much force as he could muster, which wasn't much – his entire body was screaming "What are you doing? Are you crazy?" at him – he pushed.

Mickey took a step back, eyes wide. "What the fuck? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ian lied, watching as Mickey wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Bullshit. You've never pushed me away before."

Ian realised with a jolt how true this was. For all that time, it had always been him trying to get closer to Mickey, trying to make him stay and it was always Mickey keeping him at a literal arms length and, on that last day in the Kash n Grab, actually pushing him away.

He stared at Mickey now, shaking his head, trying to clear it.

Mickey tried to close the distance between them again, but Ian side-stepped out of his way, finally making it to the front door.

"It's too much, Mickey. I... I can't."

"So you're just walkin' away." Mickey wasn't asking.

Ian paused, hand on the door handle. He tilted his head in the direction of the man who had walked away from him all that time ago, but he couldn't meet his eyes.

His voice filled with sadness more than anger, he breathed out three little words.

"Fuck you, Mickey."

And he threw open the door and walked out of the house without looking back. Again.

Walking away from Lip's house after what had just happened was probably one of the hardest things Ian had ever had to do that wasn't in the name of his country.

His mind was still reeling from everything and it kept playing back all the conversations, but the only thing he could really focus on was the feel of Mickey's hand in his hair and their lips together finally and...

Shit. He just had to keep walking.

After about five blocks, he risked a glance over his shoulder to make sure nobody had come after him. Not that he was expecting Mickey to follow him after what just went down and Reese was hardly in any condition to give chase. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

He eventually got back to his car that he'd left parked opposite the Alibi. When he saw his phone on the front seat, he couldn't believe it or his car were still in situ. He was distracted and getting careless. A quick look at the screen revealed several missed calls and texts. All from Vicki or Fiona.

He wondered what it meant that he immediately called Fiona back.

"Ian!" She answered on the second ring. "Are you okay? Where are you?"

"I'm fine. I left my phone in the car. What's going on?"

He heard a brief conversation going on in the background, then Fiona's voice was back in his ear.

"Vicki's here. She tried calling you."

"She's there?" Ian just wanted some quiet. He needed to gather his thoughts.

More away-from-the-phone conversation. "She says she was worried. D'you want to speak to her?"

He sighed. "No. Look, I'm on my way. Tell her... Just tell her I'll be there soon."

Just before he hit the button to end the call, he heard a tinny voice through the little speaker, "'kay. Love you."

He closed his eyes for a long minute, threw his phone in the passenger seat, then started the engine to drive back to the place he used to call home.

Fiona was on the front steps when he pulled up outside the house. When he didn't get out of the car right away, she practically skipped down them two at a time and wrenched his door open.

"You got about two seconds to explain this to me, Ian. I mean it."

"Where's Vicki?" Ian asked, unfolding himself from the car and squeezing past her, leaving the door wide open. "Is she mad?"

"Sounds like she has every reason to be." Fiona waited for a response. When none came, she slammed the car door. "Ian! Does she?"

Ian paused halfway up the steps, "I want to tell you everything, Fi, but there isn't time."

He left her standing by the car, and went inside.

He closed the door quietly behind him, inhaled deeply, then called out Vicki's name into the eerily quiet house.

A flush came from the downstairs bathroom and a few seconds later she appeared. He walked through to the kitchen. Vicki stood by the back door, and he moved behind the kitchen counter. The separation between them felt somehow symbolic. They looked at each other for a long time.

Finally Vicki spoke. "Where have you been?"

"You just saw me this morning." Ian replied. "It's only been a few hours."

"It has been eight hours and since when has there been a time limit on worrying about your husband?" She didn't sound worried. She didn't sound anything.

Another moment of silence passed. Ian recalled the sun setting as he'd left Lip's house, but the fact that it was evening hadn't registered at all. He wondered how the time had managed to get away from him.

"I went to see Lip."

"For eight hours?"

"No! Not for... God." Ian could hear the exasperation in his voice and he didn't mean for it to be there, but it was like he couldn't stop it. He sounded like a teenager rebelling against his mother.

"Then where were you?" Vicki pushed.

"I don't have to tell you my every move do I?" Ian bit out, then instantly regretted it.

There was a slight pause then, "Were you with him?"

"For fuck's sake!" He snapped. He wanted to slap a hand over his mouth.

Vicki looked crestfallen at the harshness in his voice, "For god's sake, Ian. Don't do this. Can we not do this? Please?"

And now it all came out, in a rush of words. "Look. I'm sorry okay? I'm so sorry about all of this. It's been crazy, for the last few weeks and I know that it's not your fault and that I shouldn't be taking any of it out on you but I don't know how to handle it. What I'm feeling? What's going on. Why nobody thought I needed to know any of it. I can't help it. I want to. I hate that I'm hurting you but I can't help it." He took a gulp of air.

"So it's about Mickey then?" She wasn't angry. She sounded resigned to it, and that made Ian feel even worse.

Ian made to move out from behind the counter. "I am sorry, Vicki. Please-"

She closed her eyes. "Just. Tell me."

"I think," She opened her eyes again as he spoke and he took a step towards her, but she backed away, grasping blindly for the door handle, "It's always been about him. I just didn't realise it before."

She shook her head almost imperceptibly and Ian saw tears start to fall from her eyes, but she didn't move to wipe at them. Without turning away from him, she opened the door and silently stepped back through it, her head dropping at the last second.

"I'm-" Ian started, as the door closed. "I'm so sorry." He finished in a whisper and he turned, leaned forward on the counter and put his head in his hands.