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stormxpadme · 7 months

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Whumptober 2023 No. 11 - Captivity

Scogan Bingo challenge Sneaking In/Out

Logan should have realized the moment the guy had walked into his cell, of course.

With his instincts worth shit right now and having spent the better part of the last two days drifting in and out of consciousness, he supposed though, even a feral could be forgiven some inattentiveness. It sure as fuck wasn’t due to this hideous disguise that his muffled sense of smell and blurry vision, his dampened earing, didn’t catch on immediately when some new janitor guy whom Logan hadn’t seen in this facility before started cleaning the room with a cheerful whistle on his lips.

Only when the guy went to work on one of the mirrored walls, displaying in detail the traces of everything that had gone down in this damn cell in the last three weeks, Logan suddenly was fixed by a pair of sky-blue, breathtakingly beautiful eyes. Pupils he'd never been allowed to look into before, and yet he knew that face coming with them ...

His own eyes went wide as recognition hit him in his starvation-knotted stomach like a freight train.

The silent What the fuck on his lips must have been plain to see for his unexpected visitor if hopefully not for the cameras in the corner, because fake cleaner dude shook his head at him in that reflection almost imperceptibly. His grip on the handle of some wiper in his hand which Logan only now realized was very faintly blinking orange, tightened slightly. Only when said LED signal turned to green, Scott let out a relieved hiss, never stopping his thorough tidying up though – knowing what a neat freak his dear team leader was, Logan could have bet, he was actually enjoying that part. Next, he started getting all that rusty red below Logan's stretcher off the floor which at least gave them the advantage that they could communicate from up close. "Audio jammer's active. There's not enough time to crack the cameras so keep ignoring me. Are you feeling half as shit as you look?"

"Look who's talking," Logan deadpanned, with a voice still quite hoarse from the last bout of screaming, careful to keep his lips or eyes from moving too much, no matter how badly he wanted to look at Scott again right now. Not least to really get it in his head that what he'd been certain at this point wouldn’t happen anytime soon, was true, that he'd been found … And by the last person he'd have expected to show up in this secret Weapon X laboratory no less. "Did you go to Stark's school of disguise or what?"

"Fooled you for a minute," Scott returned with only a very weak twitch around the corner of his mouth. The too-pale color under what was hopefully only temporary tattoos disfiguring his face revealed, he was still processing Logan's not-exactly-pretty appearance. Together with that ridiculous platinum blond buzz cut and apparently some inhibitor device that the guy must be carrying, a look that might indeed at least mislead the insane bastards working at these labs for an hour or two about having hired one of their arch-enemies. Hopefully enough to end Logan's own very unfortunate latest encounter with these assholes. "Enough flirting, we're short on time. Can you hang in there for another bit or do I need to blast us out immediately? I'd prefer to take this whole place down while we're at it but I'm not risking your life for that."

It was Logan's turn to shake his head almost invisibly lightly and force something like a weak grin on his lips, with as much of a shrug as the adamantium cuffs around his arms and shoulders allowed. "Had worse. What's the plan?"

There was no question that Summers had come here with one, given how much effort he'd put into his role, in spite of his almost palpable disgust about the feigned disregard and levity with which he had to regard Logan's bloody ordeal for now. If he was being honest, Logan would already have expected the kid to faint instead at this point. Sometimes he still had to remember that this guy was nothing like what Logan had thought when he'd stumbled into that damn posh mansion before Liberty Island, and that Scott in fact remembered more years of being at war than Logan could thanks to his amnesia.

"I brought you something to ... Jesus, Logan, can you wipe that look off your face? What, you thought we weren’t coming when you stopped calling?"

"Only surprised it's you, I guess," Logan answered truthfully after biting down arduously a new wave of pain wrecking his guts, a new noise from his bloody-bitten lips that this time became a subdued growl, now that he knew, that this was about to end soon. A pleasant surprise thanks to someone, of all people, whom Logan had half and half not expected ever seeing again after taking some time off from Mutant High to finally finish getting over Jean's death … and especially from what had started to develop between Scott and him out of the blue recently. That nothing had come out of that promising growing intimacy had not been any of Logan's fault, in any case. That was a fight against windmills he'd no longer been ready to engage in. Seeing where he'd promptly ended up, going solo again … Well, he didn’t need a few nights of meditating on it to admit, that might have been a mistake. "Could have sworn you'd have jumped right into that lake after Jeannie by now."

"Toyed with the thought until you left and didn’t show your face for months," Scott said soberly, a visible shadow darkening his expression that he hid by bending down next to the stretcher to get to a few especially dark blood stains on the rough concrete ground. "That was when I realized I didn’t want to lose someone else I'm attached to. So you better not think about clocking out on me here, because that's not happening."

"Slim …" Logan's throat suddenly felt even tighter than from that damn inhibitor collar choking him, stifling any attempt of escape from one inhumane experiment after the other. So he'd indeed not been imagining it what had formed between them in their common grief over the woman they'd both loved …

"Not the time." Scott's back stiffened defensively as he was rummaging in his cleaning cart, hopefully for something that would help Logan get out of this embarrassing situation quickly because he suddenly felt like dragging that guy into the next best empty room and kissing him senseless.

"You don't say." Logan winced and threw his head back against the resistance of the collar as the wolf of infection and poisoning bit down into his midsection once more, the cramp further ripping open the holes where a couple of organs were missing, obscenely on display thanks to the broad surgical clamps biting into inflamed flesh.

Scott had become another shade paler when he turned back to him with something carefully hidden in a new cloth but to his credit, he wasn’t looking like he was about to add a few more body fluids of his own to the mess on the ground. Which, from all Logan had found out about the guy with time, thanks to a few certain secret entries in Scott's file at Westchester, shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise. Plus, right now, there simply was no time for shock and fretting, and if there was one thing this man was really good at, it was compartmentalizing. "Hang on, we're almost done. Just can't risk them suspecting me not doing my work in here. But they won't put their hands on you again, I promise. What are they trying to do, anyway?" With just the slightest shudder, Scott regarded that mess of exposed flesh on Logan's lower stomach before visibly clenching his teeth and going back to those stains on the ground so he could finish this whole masquerade.

Logan let out a dry huff but that hurt too much, so he just dully turned his gaze back to the mirror right above his stretcher that should probably serve to drive the helplessness and humiliation home to him. Joke was on his captors, though. As little as he remembered about his life before losing most of it … The sight of lazily twitching intestines on display and torrents of red dripping from his shape wasn’t anything new thanks to his powers. In a way that Logan didn’t think he could have explained it to Scott especially, it was actually calming, seeing what these bastards were doing. As long as he was bleeding, he was alive, mostly incapacitated healing factor or not. "In general? Taking revenge for me offing Stryker, and challenging my healing factor to find out how to kill ferals. Right now? Seeing how long someone can survive without kidneys and dialysis."

"Lame," Scott judged from his crouching position, with as much strained humor as he could come up with, while some quiet clanking and clicking revealed, he was busy leaving some of said gifts on the underside of the bed, out of every camera angle. "Essex already did that study on me when I was 13. I should send them the thesis."

Logan suddenly didn’t feel a lot like joking. Knowing something in theory was a lot different than hearing details for the first time, because so far, Scott had understandably not wanted to open up to him about some aspects of his past so far. Not outside the occasional nightmare that Logan had woken him from in their nights of reminiscing and bonding at least. He found himself wishing he'd have had a chance to get a chance to get his hands on that Essex guy before Charles had sent the asshole in some mental limbo long before they'd all met. It was all the more a reason not to risk Scott ever going through something like this again. Not everyone came with a healing factor Logan's size. "You need to get the fuck out of here. If they find you out …"

"That's the job," Scott interrupted him sharply, every bit the team leader Logan had come to respect long before feelings of a whole different kind had started to emerge in him regarding this man. "Don't worry; situation's under control. I just needed to check on your condition before we strike. Guns and blades are right under your butt. Use them until your healing factor kicks in properly again. You can't afford to lose any more blood right now. I'm gonna help you off that thing in a minute but I'm afraid I'm gonna have to punch you in the face for that."

"Don't tell me you haven’t been waiting for that ever since you saved my ass from Creed back then." Logan made very sure to wait for Scott to get up again before rolling his eyes at him.

"Not since Alkali Lake," Scott replied with that strangely calm, almost gentle tone again before his expression took on an exaggerated aggressive, hateful touch for the cameras, his fist clenching around something. "Try not to swallow this. You've got enough shit in you right now that doesn’t belong there."

"What is it?" Somehow gathering what was left of his clear mind in spite of the current blood loss, Logan remembered he should better be doing his part of the show and showed his alleged enemy a vicious grin before throwing a few not-so-kind insults at Scott's head, with only his lips moving.

"Temporarily overrides the inhibitor ray. Wait till I left. You'll have five minutes." Scott's posture tensed as he prepared to deliver a blow he visibly loathed even for the show.

"Where do I pick you up?" Logan's eyes darted to the digital time display on the wall as a warning that it couldn’t be too long now before his torturers would be back. If he had anything to do with it, Scott wouldn’t be meeting these people, elaborate plan or not.

"Pantry. Gonna drop a little drug package in the water tank. By tonight, everyone here will be out of it enough for the army to sweep the place. You and I don't want to be around for that though." But Scott was still hesitating, much to Logan's dismay.

He decided to make it easier for the guy and took a deep breath before spitting a remarkable amount of thick yellow and red on Scott's shirt. The blow following was indeed harsher than expected and left him gasping for a moment but with said small device, lowly humming at the inside of his cheek a second later, Logan could almost immediately feel his powers starting to come back to life. Now they had to be quick. "Slim."

"Don't mention it." Scott hurried to pack all his tools into that cart again, with only a brief, satisfied look at these holes in Logan's body that were trying to close against the resistance of the clamps already.

"Wasn’t gonna. When we're home, we'll talk though." Logan made sure to let it sound like the order that it was.

He could see Scott smile a lot broader to himself in the reflection this time before approaching the door. "I'll take you up on that. Meet you on the other side, Claws."

An hour later, they were in the Blackbird and on their way home. And maybe for the first time since he'd come to Westchester back then, Logan was certain he wouldn’t be leaving again anytime soon.

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@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

@scoganbingo

#no.11 #captivity #x men #fic #medical torture #everything after x2 didn't happen sue me #x men original timeline movies #x men movies #fanfiction #stormys fanfics #dead dove do not eat #scott summers #cyclops #wolverine #scogan #scott x logan #scoganbingo #whumptober2023

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bxllafanficc · 3 years

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¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plizetsky x reader)

(part five)

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Masterlist

Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none

*Yuri's POV*

(One week later)

He groaned, still trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes even after breakfast. The sun was annoyingly bright today and the crowds chatting along the streets became a loud buzzing in his ears. They walk along shore at a smaller street where the typical fisherman has been standing, even years from now since Yuri saw him last. With a face mask up to his eyes and his hoodie up, it also came to be exceedingly hot underneath his disguise. Sweaty again.

In front of him walked Yuuri and Victor, sheering for him to hurry up meanwhile Victor snapped some photos behind his head on him and (Y/n). 'A selfie to remember' he said. Though the sour face of (Y/n) was far from something anyone would like to remember. Terrifying.

Right. Why? Yuri didn't exactly hit it off at its peak this morning with (Y/n) as his roommate. The cold shoulder hitting him like a slap in the face grew even larger every time he tried talk her back to normal state. A 'what's the matter with you? Stop being a drag!' Wasn't gonna get him an answer so far. Though, Yuri found himself surprised that he even made an effort into talking with her in this mood. One week with her and he's already softening up? Not great. He can't treat her as if she isn't a stranger to him, nice or not. Even if she always came at the late ending hours of his practicing at the rink and greeted him with a late snack after training. Star-shaped apple slices and a smoothie. He found it weird the first time and he still does. Every morning and every late evening because Yakov happened to mention that apples were Yuri's favorite fruit.

And this morning? Maybe he could actually admit that he screwed up. It probably could've gone better if he hadn't stolen Magnolia from her... Long story short, she was asleep with the cat in her arms and Yuri sneaked out a makeshift toy to lure him over. (Y/n) quickly noticed that Yuri was now the person cuddling the cat and she tried to call him over for his morning brush with a happy chirping sound. But Yuri had held Magnolia still when he tried to go until the cat was like 'meh whatevs' and went back to sleep in Yuri's arms. He knew now afterwards that it was already a little bit much to hold the cat back but the worst part wasn't past yet. No. The worst part was when he said 'He wants to be with me, not you, you clingy hag' and 'Maybe if you weren't so stubborn and tacky all the time he would be sprinting to you this moment instead of cuddling with his savior.' When she hadn't responded well to his words some unknown force told him to push it harder. So kept on pushing at her limits with spiteful manners and comments. He can't really understand why he'd said that now afterwards. All that came out meanwhile Yuri was still half asleep from past day's exhaustion, and he hadn't yet realized that he probably should filter the way he talk to his coach, nonetheless the,, he wouldn't say idol,, but- Nonetheless the acquaintance she is. Though he couldn't stand her. How itching and irritated he felt whenever she made her own sour looks. Isn't she supposed to be happy sunshine or what? Just get over it already, it was just an insult anyway.

But it was clear that (Y/n) took the insult to heart and has been doing so since then. At breakfast, he had received a bowl of starshaped cut apples put down harshly in front of him at the table. That along with blueberry pancakes. Why she was the one making breakfast, he didn't understand. But it had certainly not been unbearable to eat. No the opposite really. The entire Katsuki household was there along with them and everyone had been gulping it down like starved hounds. But the thing really throwing Yuri off was the fact that his appleslices were the only ones being but into starshapes. Just that she took the extra time even though or because she was upset at him?

Yuri gazed at the girl's direction as he thought of the event. 'So very unnecessary' he thought. Was it some twisted joke he didn't quite get or a revenge he didn't see coming? Because except for the apples, she had been totally snappy with him since they left for the unknown adventure Victor had described it as. And she wouldn't really have made that extra effort out of kindness judging on her mood today.

(Y/n) was very keen not to glance at him just one bit this morning since that breakfast. And when Yuri made a huge deal out of it afterwards, Victor had took him aside and whispered into his ear; 'There will come days where she won't put up with your bullshit anymore and today seems like such a situation. I don't know what you did to cause that reaction because it's quite rare. But I recommend you lay off and let her cool down on her own.' His words had been a sense of advise with a hint of bitterness in it.

Just minutes later he had gathered us four and announced that he would be taking them all somewhere to cleanse our minds and gather our thoughts. He hadn't really understood why all four would go there but that's when (Y/n) decided it was time to announce a pretty important details she almost withheld from him until now. Apparently the entire reason they chose to do this whole coaching in Japan was because she had taken Yuuri as her apprentice as well. It all seemed relevant of course. Why else would Yuri be here right now and not with her back in Russia? But it made him feel uneasy and let down for some stupid reason. Why she apparently thought it was much more important to teach Yuuri than him since they were in Japan right now. He's always gotta be the favorite even though Yuri won gold and proved himself to be better than the piglet. Victor already chose him. And clearly (Y/n) did too. But she made him believe that she came here only to coach him.

He didn't understand anything. He didn't want her coaching, didn't want to hear anything she had to say. She wasn't a real coach even. He certainly didn't want to share a room with her and he didn't want to feel relieved at the sight of her at the rink yesterday, coming to his rescue like that. He just wanted her to stop talking so much but now he couldn't stand the silence she was giving him.

Couldn't she just get her shit together?

"Ta-daaa! We're here!" Victor's shout made Yuri snap back to reality at the beat of a second. It took him a moment to understand the building the man was waving towards but soon he remembered the experiences he had there.

"No- nonono! I'm not going through that hellish session again. No damned waterfalls and no hitting me with a stick!" Yuri turned on his heels but was grabbed by the collar of his neck by a pouting Victor. (Y/n) who was clearly new to the subject gave Yuuri a hesitant look but Victor wasn't going down.

"Come on, it will be great for everyone. And I promise no hitting this time!"

'This time.' He didn't believe it one bit. He knew it was just an attempt to get him through the doors. Once in, no turning back. But if there was going to be hitting, he was secretly hoping that it would not be (Y/n) as the one doing it.

"Still no. There's no way you're getting me through those doors! Never am I ever standing under a waterfall again!"

...

The rapid flow of the water forcibly threatening to push him forwards was as cold as he remembered it. Screw the hitting with sticks, this just felt like someone rapidly slapping him across the back over and over. At least the water could've been warm. What was the deal with that anyway? He knew exactly why going here was kept a secret from him. They would never have caught him if he knew before. Now Yuri is standing in the middle, unable to escape. A quiet but intimidating (Y/n) who hasn't spoken up for hours and Yuuri who seems to actually be taking this whole thing seriously. Then there's the big question. Where is Little blondie Rasputin in the picture. The answer is right in front of him in a corner of the other side of the room. In a bubble bath taking it easy. He said that he'd be making sure we'd concentrate on opening up our minds and he'd tell us if he noticed otherwise. Yuri believed none of it. He just doesn't want to be here himself. Cause why was (Y/n) doing it if both the coaches aren't in on it. She's already in touch with herself and doesn't need it. Part of him guesses that she was participating on her own terms for some reason.

'This isn't working. I'm literally standing here thinking about everything and anything until time passes!' He thought. And...

He made the mistake of looking to his right. (Y/n) was standing close beside him with closed eyes. He was going to close his eyes as well but then he noticed how soft her skin looked. Like, all the wrinkles caused by her constant grumpy face were flattened out. Her mouth hung low and her lips were slightly parted. That made him notice her slow breathing making her chest rise and fall in a nice rhythm. Even though the water hitting his scalp shouted angrily in his ears, he was somehow able to here her melodic breathing. She was doing this the right way. And she looked completely relaxed. Almost asleep.

He kept on listening to her breathing and prayed that she wouldn't open her eyes right this moment. If so, she'd probably have realized right away how long exactly he had been staring at her.

He brushed it off and adverted his gaze, closed his eyes shut. It wasn't anything more than that. He had to get to know her at some point and her striking eyes were always too intimidating for him. He would always look away to feel less stripped of his soul in front of her. It was almost the first time he really could study her features up close, and without her knowing. (D-Did that sound weird-? anyway.)

He couldn't see her anymore but her light breath could still be heard. A part of it made Yuri think of music when he listened to it. He'll focus on that. Mach the breathing to his own.

Everything she did held a steady rhythm to it, unintentionally probably. The music was so much more than just the beautiful voice she had, but it consumed her entire being. Maybe that's why it felt so real on stage.

Does he have to let the skating consume him too? What if he loses control of what he's doing? Starts doing a different choreography or hits the wall again? What would happen if he just let go?

"I think we're done for today. Great job guys! You too Yuri!"

Well, he would never find out because he could never let that happen. Ever. If he doesn't hold control, then what does he have.

Yuuri and (Y/n) came back to reality and stepped out of the fall. Yuri followed short behind and watched the droplets of water running down the back of the girl in front of him. Her shoulders were much less tense than before they begun their session.

'If she thinks she's her to help me let go of all control and fly off the surface of the earth, then I'm sorry. For your coaching will have been in vain.'

...

Yuri was the last one out of the showers and was alone in the locker room as the piglet had already finished before him. He put one the clothes he came in since he came unprepared and set off to the main entrance. To his surprise, he found (Y/n) leaned against a nearby wall just outside the path leading the separate changing rooms apart. 'She's been waiting for me?' She still looks stern but this time Yuri's directly hit in the face by it. She's not ignoring him anymore. Her eyes are as piercing as always but not with excitement or content as usual. Yuri has to turn his head. The feeling's too much.

He walks beside her this time as well. Not a few feet behind like the way they came here.

Victor's tall back was seen outside the building through the glass doors and the two of them headed out. Yuuri was there too but they weren't alone. A large crowd of screaming teenagers as well as adults were swooning over the two skaters. Reporters and journalists were at the front struggling to ask the pair questions meanwhile guards from the center nearby held them all back. At the corner of his eye (Y/n) was turning slightly pale of the sudden screams that roared as they arrived together. As soon as Yuri was noticed the same reaction came for the second time and he joined in on the surprise. His first instinct was to run and hope none in the crowd ran faster than him. But is seemed like (Y/n) sensed his intentions before he did. A firm and calming hand was placed upon his head and as what- a warning? A threat? He looked at her and she smiled. Not to him, but to the crowd.

"Is that (Y/n) and Yuri Plisetsky?"

"Yes! But why are they in Japan? And together?"

"Aww look! They look so cute together!"

A couple pictures were taken of the two of them and Yuri was as stunned by the girl's hand as well as her warm presence towards her fans. He was even too caught up to snap her hand away.

"How long have you known each other?"

"Yuri YURI! What were you doing in there with the Aubade duchess of (nationality)?" Duchess? Right. One of her many titles created by her fan base. It's pretty funny. Why a duchess? Why not a queen or an empress? Yuri wasn't the one to complain though. He was called the Russian punk.

"(Y/n), any reason you're in Japan? Any hot news you'd like to share with us?" The woman asking leaned over the fighting arms of the guard and winked playfully at the two of them. He saw (Y/n) getting visibly uncomfortable at the suggestive question and she stuttered, trying to come up with something smooth and contained for the reporter to use in her article. Yuri was just pissed off at how rudely this woman got all up in their private life like that. He felt like it had been put upon (Y/n) as her responsibility alone to answer that and that just made him angrier.

But the back of the tall Russian male hiding him from camera views stopped the salty defensive words he almost spit out.

"Of course! It's about time to announce anyway. On the behalf of myself and Yakov Feltsman, we're proud to announce that (Y/n) (l/n) will spend her time in Japan as coach for our competing skaters; Yuri Plisetsky and Yuuri Katsuki, in their preparations for this year's Grand Prix senior division!" Victor's worlds were happily announced to the audience and the next moment all hell of a screaming mess broke loose. The reporters rushed sideways to call their firms about the news and the guards almost failed to hold the fighting fans at bay. It all was a mess already. It went from being super private and secretive to Victor dropping the act without warning and soon the whole world would know in just a couple of minutes.

Shit.

A/N; Aaand another chapter! I have so fun writing these and it's almost like therapy session for me too:') no waterfalls though. It seems like Yuri's starting to warm up to (Y/n) right? Well... Baby steps;) What do you think will happen in next chapter? Let me know what you think!

#yurio plisetsky #yuri on ice fanfiction #yuri on ice fandom #yuri katsuki #yuriart #yurianime #yuri on ice #yuri on stage #yuri plisetsky x reader #victor nikirofov #yuuri on ice #yuuri katsuki #animelove #anime fanfic #anime icons

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artificialqueens · 6 years

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Just the Game We're In - Chapter 10 (Ortega)

a/n: holy hell. this was a quick update (#triggered) and i don’t quite know how i’ve managed it, but i hope everyone enjoys it. In this chapter, three new interns arrive. They work quietly and keep themselves to themselves and nothing interesting happens.

Willam was never one to get dramatic, but she was pretty sure the last two weeks had been the worst of her life.

She’d tried phoning Courtney countless times to no answer. Texts went unread. She knew she was being a pathetic mess when she took solace in the fact that Courtney hadn’t blocked her number, as if being one level up from a random creepy guy at a bar was anything to be proud of. Still, to Willam it was the hope that maybe someday soon Courtney would text her again, or call her again, and say that she’d been thinking and the whole situation wasn’t one to lose their relationship over, and Willam would finally hold Courtney again and everything would be alright.

But it hadn’t happened yet, and it hadn’t happened at work either, and every day for the past two weeks Willam had felt as if she was walking into a chest freezer whenever she arrived at work. The icy stares from the comms girls, who of course had been told every last detail (probably over wine, Willam was guessing) compounded by the frostiness Courtney exuded from her from 8am until the day was over made Willam wonder how she hadn’t yet contracted hypothermia and died. Katya was the only one that attempted to see where Willam was coming from, one day when the entire atmosphere had become too much and Willam had had to sneak off into the kitchen - not to cry, because she wasn’t a crier, but just to compose herself in case she actually did happen to squeeze a few tears out. Katya had walked in by chance, and given Willam a sad smile and an awkward hug which had made Willam’s throat tight, and Willam had explained everything from her side of the story. Katya had listened as she’d made the office teas, and when Willam was finished she’d concluded that she saw where Willam was coming from, and she understood why she had lied to Bianca, but it didn’t excuse the fact that the actual act of the lying was a terrible fucking mistake and Willam should never have done it. Willam knew that, of course she knew that, but hearing someone else articulate what she’d already beaten herself up for about a thousand times made things seem even worse, and Willam went home at lunchtime that day. Not that Sharon cared. Not that Sharon seemed to care about much these days, even though her new policy was going well- house construction of the new communities had started already but it only seemed to serve to remind Sharon of Alaska’s good organisation in getting the contracts with the builders up and running and starting as soon as they could. Every time Sharon walked past Alaska’s empty chair in the office Willam could hear her sigh. Alaska’s bag was still there, and nothing had moved from where it had been left that fateful day. Willam found herself wondering how Alaska could afford not to come back and collect it, until she remembered the girl’s maddening habit of carrying everything important in her pockets instead of her purse, so she guessed that everything was fine for her.

She had to guess, because she didn’t really know. She’d texted Alaska, even tried phoning her countless times, but she only got left on read or sent to voicemail. Judging by the state Sharon would arrive most mornings- makeupless, hair not having even seen a brush, and wearing glasses in favour of her usual contact lenses, it made Willam think that Alaska didn’t have much time for either of them. And that was fair enough- she was obviously busy, but Willam still missed and needed her friend. Now more than ever.

Walking into work on a sunny Monday morning, it made Willam want to feel happy and upbeat. She still found herself absent-mindedly planning things for her and Courtney to do even though now they would never get to do them- After work we could get ice cream and go watch people get vertigo attacks on the Eye. Or hire Boris Bikes, cycle around Westminster and try to mow down members of the opposition. She didn’t know if it comforted her or made her feel even worse.

She arrived into the office to the radio silence of the comms girls and Courtney wearing a new baby pink trouser suit.

“Morning,” Courtney said first, her voice stony as it usually was these days.

“Morning. How are you?” Willam asked tentatively, sitting at her desk and switching her computer on. She looked up to see the tailend of Courtney rolling her eyes.

“I’m fine. I’m always fine,” Courtney said frostily, then picked up a folder from her desk and put it on Willam’s. “Bianca phoned and said she wants the figures of all new arrivals that have been granted British citizenship from 1985 to present so…here’s 1990 onwards for you to do and I’ll take the rest. I’ve got to go get Sharon from downstairs.”

Willam’s heart sank. Reduced to exchanging pleasantries that weren’t even pleasant with a girl that used to be one of her best friends, never mind her girlfriend. It was fucking depressing.

Sharon arrived mere minutes later without the spring in her step that she usually had. Willam made a mental note to check with reception if Ely, her bodyguard, had dropped her off at the door this morning and not simply the pavement outside work as he had done yesterday- which was far too careless, Willam had chastised him. Sharon seemed unbothered about the impending threat to her life, however, as she made her way to her office. Willam noticed that the black dress that she wore, which used to flatter her curves, now hung baggy in places it hadn’t before, indicating the amount of weight she had lost over the past couple of weeks through not eating. Her face was paler than usual due to the lack of makeup on it and her glasses had slid down her nose. There was one positive though- she seemed to have been to get a haircut and her hair looked neat and presentable, albeit much shorter than it had been.

“Morning, Sharon,” she smiled tightly. “Nice hair.”

Sharon turned and smiled softly. “Thanks. I had to get it sorted out, it was a nightmare. Apparently that happens if you don’t wash your hair for six days. No, I just thought- new hair for a new girlfriendless me. Sorry. That was a shit joke. Oh wait, it wasn’t really a joke. It was just me being sad. The real joke here is my love life. There, that one was funny,” she spieled, her voice deadpan. Straightening up, she cleared her throat. “Right remember, ladies, that these interns are arriving from number 10 today so make sure there’s space for them.”

“Should we, um,” Courtney asked hesitantly. “Should we clear, um.”

She gave a vague gesture at Alaska’s desk. Sharon frowned.

“Why would we need to clear Alaska’s desk, Courtney?” she asked, at once accusatory. Courtney’s mouth dropped open a little, taken-aback.

“No, I mean we don’t- I just thought-”

“Well un-think what you just thought. She’ll come back. She’ll at least have to come back for her bag, it’s got her antihistamines in it and the pollen count is through the roof today. And her special lip balm from Khiels is in it and she’ll get dry lips if she doesn’t put it on,” Sharon babbled, Willam’s heart going out to her. She was behaving a little bit as if she was bereaved, but Willam supposed that a breakup was a kind of grief. She’d not really had a chance to talk to Sharon about everything yet, too wrapped up in her own heartbreak to think much about Sharon’s. Perhaps today she should try to be there for her, Willam supposed.

“Of course, Sharon. I won’t touch anything on her desk,” Courtney reassured her, her voice soft and in turn making Sharon sigh.

“Just fuck Violet and Adore off, move them into Richmond Terrace. It’s only a week for Christ’s sake,” Sharon gave a blithe swipe of her hand as she turned and walked into her office. Willam shrugged, tuning into the figures in front of her instead. If she was being honest, she’d forgotten about the interns arriving, so much had been going on in her own life. It happened every year or so- Bianca would drop off a couple of graduate interns from Number 10 into different departments and let the ministers deal with them for a week. Sometimes they were good. Sometimes they were clearly shit and weren’t at all cut out for politics. Most of the time it was the latter. Usually Willam worked around them and didn’t really mind them being there, but this week she really could have been doing without them.

Sighing at her inability to concentrate, she looked up and briefly caught eyes with Courtney. Frozen, Willam gave a smile over to her. Courtney looked disarmed, as if she was about to smile back, then her face set into a stony glare as she looked away from Willam.

Looking back at the folder in front of her, Willam concluded she really could have done without work at all.

***

It was around 11 o’clock when Bianca finally showed up to the department, walking confidently into the department with three twentysomethings trailing behind her. The first walked with her head held high and with only a slight tremble in her step- a petite black girl with a huge mane of caramel hair and a daintily highlighted nose wearing an immaculate white pencil skirt and suit jacket combo. As Willam stood in front of Sharon’s office beside Courtney and Jinkx, she found herself becoming hopeful- this girl actually inspired some sort of confidence in her.

The second girl, not so much, Willam thought as she saw her go over on her heel slightly as she walked towards them. Her shining blonde hair was curled neatly and her navy blue shift dress with its white shirt collar made her look like a trained professional, but the anxious expression on her face and the red flush already hitting her cheeks suggested otherwise.

The third was a young man, early as opposed to late twenties, Willam guessed. He didn’t look as nervous as the girl in front of him, and appeared to be taking everything in from behind his thick-rimmed glasses. He had a sort of scruff of stubble but could get away with it in his smart grey suit and neatly-gelled dark hair. Willam had to acknowledge he was attractive, but only begrudgingly so.

As Bianca reached them, she motioned for the three to line up in front of the Dosac ladies and Willam felt momentarily as if she was on a weird TV dating show. Bianca turned to Sharon and immediately started talking.

“I’m afraid I can’t stay for long, Sharon, there’s a whole new world of piss going on at Downing Street regarding the by-election that I’m sure these three are delighted to be getting away from. But ladies, this is Blair, Vixen and Andrew. Treat them nicely, because they’re just babies really, and if they ask to go to the toilet let them go. Before they go home make sure they’ve got their jumpers and lunchboxes, and remind them when they have to bring in their PE kit,” Bianca deadpanned, the blonde girl laughing politely while the black girl beside her rolled her eyes. The man, or perhaps boy, he looked that fresh out of uni, wasn’t registering Bianca’s words, Willam noticed. Instead, he was looking at Willam. As Willam met his gaze however, she saw that he hadn’t been looking at her, but at who was beside her. Willam turned her head. Courtney. She felt her skin begin to prickle.

“I’ll be back to pick them up at the end of the day. Play nice, children,” Bianca said by way of a goodbye, as she swept out of the department and left the Dosac girls to meet the new interns. Trying to ignore the new guy, Willam made a beeline for whichever of the girls would talk to her first. Sharon had descended on Blair, so Willam introduced herself to Vixen.

“Hey. I’m Willam. It’s good to have you,” she smiled tightly, shaking the other girl’s hand. Vixen smiled back at her. Willam had noticed she hadn’t reacted well to Bianca’s words. “Don’t mind Bianca. She’s very…she’s very Bianca. You’ll get less bother from her here than you would have at Number 10.”

“I hate the bitch,” Vixen replied, her blunt tone taking Willam aback a bit. “Blair fucked up a bit of photocopying she’d made her do and the bitch went fucking crazy at her. Totally out of proportion reaction. I mean, she always seems like she has something to be mad about? I couldn’t go through life like that.”

“Well, that’s her way I guess,” Willam shrugged, torn between wanting to defend the spin doctor but also slightly agreeing with Vixen. “But as I said, you’ll see her a lot less now you’re here. And I’m sure you’ll be amazing here too.”

Vixen gave a guilty grimace. “Just to let you know…I have no interest in social affairs. I put down that I wanted to work with Shea Coulee over in Defence, but for some reason I got dumped here with that walking talking bag of smarm.”

Vixen motioned to Andrew, who was busy talking to Jinkx, his eyes darting every so often to Courtney. Willam narrowed her eyes at him.

“He seems…” Willam started, then remembered her professionalism and shut up. Vixen smirked and finished her sentence.

“Like a massive scrotum? Yep, that’s pretty much about the size of it. Oh, and the size of ‘it’ is little, by the way. Like, we’re talking pinkie toe when flaccid.”

Willam found herself exploding with laughter. She’d known Vixen for all of about one second, but she immediately warmed to her now that she knew she hated Andrew. Clearly pleased that she had Willam onside, Vixen carried on.

“Literally the only saving grace of my placement here is Blair. She’s great, you’ll love her,” she smiled over at the other girl, whose face was lit up as she spoke to Sharon. Willam did a small double-take as she looked at Vixen’s face, thinking that she could do without another workplace lesbian crush in her life. Suddenly wanting to tear herself away from the situation, Willam smiled.

“Well, I bet you’re both going to be really valuable here,” she said with an air of finality. “It was good to meet you, Vixen.”

Just then, she noticed Andrew making his way to where Courtney stood. Willam immediately launched herself towards the two of them as if she’d been physically catapulted. She instantly inserted herself between the two of them, holding out a hand that she hoped couldn’t seem accusatory.

“Willam. Nice to meet you,” she said simply, meeting the other man’s gaze. His brown eyes looked slightly surprised behind his glasses, as if he’d been met by a challenger. Despite his shock, he smiled amicably and took Willam’s hand.

“Willam? That’s an interesting one, never heard that before,” he said pleasantly, Willam’s hackles immediately rising at the fact her name was being met as if it was a new knock knock joke. “I’m Andrew, nice to meet you. And this is?”

To Willam’s dismay, he gave her hand a brief, tight shake and then shifted his gaze to Courtney, holding out his hand. Courtney was smiling in a sort of coy way, and Willam felt her heart sink. She’d never looked at her that way. Or had she? Willam couldn’t remember, and she hated herself for it.

“I’m Courtney. Good to meet you,” she smiled, her eyes widening a little as Andrew took her hand as if to shake it but instead used it to pull her in and give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Now, don’t tell me Bianca has you locked away in this office morning, noon and night? How come I’ve never seen you before?” he asked her, the light lilt of his Northern English accent only adding to the charm offensive and making Willam wonder if there was a company in existence that made personalised, face-shaped dartboards.

Courtney gave a laugh that didn’t have any hint of shyness or reservation to it. Instead it was self-assured and confident, and Willam felt as if she was in some kind of horrendous rom-com. “Because it’s probably hard to see anything with your head so far up your own arse.”

Andrew still hadn’t let go of her hand. Courtney hadn’t let go of his either. He was laughing in a mock-hurt manner. “Oh fuck, okay. A girl who gives as good as she gets, alright. I can deal with that.”

“What makes you think you’re going to have any dealings with me?” Courtney replied, flirtation dripping from every word she spoke. Andrew actually fucking winked at her.

“Because I didn’t get to where I am now without taking on a few challenges,” he replied, finally, miraculously, letting go of Courtney’s hand. For the first time since Willam had spoken to him, he looked back at her, giving her a quick up-and-down glance. “Well, I best have a chat with Sharon and see what she wants me to do here. But it was nice meeting you, Courtney. I hope I’m going to see you a lot more often while I’m here.”

Courtney gave him a cheeky smile as he turned to leave, then addressed Willam as if he’d forgotten. “Good to meet you, Willard.”

Willam actually felt as if her blood had been put inside a kettle with the switch flicked on. Courtney was smiling after him, then she gave a laugh.

“He’s confident.”

“He’s cocky,” Willam glared at his retreating back as he took Sharon’s hand and shook it. “With the emphasis on ‘cock’.”

“Hmm. Wonder why you didn’t seem to like him,” Courtney said coldly, giving her a side glance as she wandered over to Vixen to introduce herself.

***

It was only day two, and the interns were getting on Willam’s last nerve already.

Well- that was unfair. Not all of them. Vixen was great- she had already taken on every bit of advice that the girls had given her and read over her brief that Jinkx had supplied her with thoroughly, and she had taken to answering press calls and getting minor jobs done. She was clearly going to be a great success when she inevitably rose to the top.

And Blair wasn’t all that bad either, now that Willam thought about it. She was relentlessly upbeat even in the face of Willam’s horrific mood and tried her best to understand the workings of the department, even if Stevie Wonder himself could see that she hadn’t a fucking clue what was going on. Vixen would always somehow appear at her desk however, showing her how to do things and explaining things slowly and patiently, and in the short time Willam had known them both she had concluded that they surely must be together. Vixen wasn’t the only one that seemed to dote on Blair; Jinkx had taken a shine to the younger girl, almost seeing her as a sort of daughter-figure, and Blair seemed to be the only intern that had teas made for her.

No, it wasn’t Vixen or Blair that was pissing Willam off. That title went to the third intern, the one-man smarmy army himself, Andrew. She wished she knew why she’d developed such a strong dislike of him in the space of a day. It wasn’t because he seemed to spend every moment he could chatting to Courtney instead of doing work. It wasn’t even because every time she looked at Courtney, the other girl already seemed to be gazing over at Andrew on the rare occasion that he was working. It wasn’t either of those things. It was probably because he’d got her name wrong on the first day. That was definitely the reason. Every time she walked past his desk and got a whiff of the overbearing scent of Paco Rabanne that emanated from him, rage seemed to bubble under her skin and she couldn’t really pinpoint exactly why.

The rage wasn’t really going away now that they were all sat around the meeting table, ready for the interns’ first departmental meeting. Sharon sat at the helm of the table as usual, and Willam sat at her right side. Andrew filled the seat at her left, the seat that Alaska used to occupy, and Courtney sat in the chair close to his side. Vixen and Blair sat close together too on Willam’s side of the table, and Jinkx sat at the end, her notepad ready.

“So, Vixen, Blair, Andrew, I know you’ll probably have sat in on a million meetings in Number 10, but our departmentals are a bit different,” Sharon started, her face friendly and apologetic.

Willam smirked self-depreciatively. “Namely because nothing gets done, one of our advisors ran away to pursue a shit MP career in the by-election, our senior press officer is about as out the loop as you could get and-”

“- our other advisor’s an arse,” Courtney finished, giving Willam a look that she couldn’t quite read. If she squinted, she could perhaps have interpreted it as flirtatious. Or perhaps it was for Andrew’s benefit.

“Sounds a lot like Number 10 to me,” Vixen smiled lazily. Satisfied, Sharon continued.

“Okay, the main item on our agenda is policy. New communities is going well but, as Willam mentioned, there’s a by-election looming. If I can push just one more bit of policy through, it might help the party win some more voters. So, policy ideas. Let’s have them.”

“Um…pay the unemployed to drive ambulances,” Jinkx suggested, blithely waving her pen in the air. Willam glared at her then looked to Sharon, who was giving her a confused glance.

“Yes, that…I was really meaning ideas from advisors, Jinkx.”

Blair noticed that she looked put out and smiled at her. “I thought it was a good idea.”

“You once thought carrots were a fruit,” Andrew piped up, the comment blatantly designed to make himself look good. Willam could have sworn she heard a snort from Courtney, but when she turned to look at her, her face gave nothing away. Frowning at Andrew, she shrugged.

“I mean. They make juice with them, so it’s an easy mistake to make,” she said flatly, making sure to look Andrew in the eye in an attempt to assert her authority. A small gasp from Blair made Willam break the eye contact before she had a chance to suss out the expression on his face.

“That was exactly my reasoning too!” the intern smiled excitedly, Willam failing to miss the look Vixen was giving Blair which was affectionate bordering on loving.

“Policy ideas, people, come on,” Sharon sighed despairingly.

“Ringfencing of funds for primary school breakfast clubs,” Courtney suggested, Willam wincing in response.

“It’s very Phi Phi O’Hara-esque and extremely fucking questionable,” she explained, frowning and receiving a frown back from Courtney.

“Well at least I’m coming up with some actual ideas,” she muttered. Willam sighed.

“Okay, what about um…free tampons in secondary schools,” she shrugged, Courtney momentarily looking impressed.

“Something that doesn’t cost money,” Sharon raised her eyebrows and pushed her glasses up her nose.

“What about a partnership between nursing homes and maternity wards, where the elderly knit little blankets for newborn babies?” Blair suggested, an enthusiastic smile on her face.

“Christ,” Willam coughed out, looking for a moment at Vixen. She laughed.

“We always say Human Resources must have found her lost in Disneyland before she came to Downing Street,” she laughed affectionately, Blair pouting a little before Vixen took her hand and squeezed it, laughing.

“You always say that,” Blair smiled, her voice quiet as if Vixen was the only one meant to hear it.

“Free teabags,” Jinkx piped up again. Sharon pushed some hair out of her face in exasperation.

“Everyone has to carry a plastic bag? Oh fuck no, even Jinkx has to think that’s shit,” Willam exhaled noisily, surprising herself with how crap her ideas had become.

“Free bottle of wine for every new mother,” Vixen deadpanned, Willam struggling to tell if she was joking or not.

Courtney looked at the ceiling. “Free coffins to enable working-class families to-”

“The word ‘free’ is hereby banned,” Sharon put her head in her hands.

“Well, how about we go one better?” Andrew suddenly piped up, Courtney’s eyes immediately darting to him leaving Willam feeling like she’d been punched in the stomach. “Instead of something that doesn’t cost us money, how about something that’s going to make us money?”

“What do you have in mind?” Sharon questioned, her head tilting to the side in interest.

“Well, maybe something like…” Andrew paused, clearly trying to collect his words. “You’ve got all these rich buggers, right? Living in these massive houses. With all these rooms. Only there’s only ever one or two people that live there. Old fuckers that are sitting rattling about in what used to be their family homes, and they could be downsizing, but they haven’t? And there’s other families, ones that need those rooms, ones that could do with those houses, that are sitting with five kids sharing the one room. So how about we tax the people that have the spare rooms, make some money for us, and we could put it into funds for New Communities- or we could spend it on council houses or the benefit system to show the doubters of New Communities that we’re looking after our own and not just the little African kids?”

Willam frowned. It was a shit idea. It had to be. What the fuck did an intern, practically a foetus, know about policies like that? Immediately, Willam thought hard and racked her brain for holes to pick in the idea. Looking to gauge Sharon’s reaction, she was dismayed to find that she looked pretty impressed.

“That’s actually…quite good. I can see it working. And I love the idea of putting it into council housing funds, that’s fucking excellent PR for me,” she smiled at Andrew. He wasn’t looking at her though- his gaze had moved to Courtney, who had an impressed smile on her face.

“Surely that’s fucking ridiculous though, the idea that people have paid for these houses and now they’re getting taxed more for them?” Willam jumped in, the jealousy burning at her heart making her eager to find fault with the idea.

“Well if they can afford a house of that size they can afford a minute tax increase,” Courtney challenged her, Willam dismayed at the fact she was taking Andrew’s side. Her face softened as she looked at Andrew. “Which is what it would be, right? I mean we’re talking two percent, three percent? Or were you thinking of it as more of a one-off, Robin Hood type thing?”

Andrew smiled back at her. “God, I love a girl that knows her economics.”

“Well I do have a degree in it,” Courtney bit back playfully.

“Oh, she reads books too?” Andrew joked, Willam fixing him with what she hoped was a literal death stare.

“If we could steer things away from Take Me Out territory,” Sharon raised her eyebrows at the two of them, Courtney looking to the floor and blushing. “I would actually like to move forward with this, Andrew. It’s a good idea.”

“You can’t be fucking serious,” Willam’s mouth dropped open, ignoring Andrew turning in his chair and looking at her. “You’re just going to take the idea of an intern and actually make it into a policy?”

“Well, in the absence of any decent ideas from my actual advisors, it seems I don’t have much choice,” Sharon’s eyebrows shot up over the rims of her glasses as distaste coated her words.

Willam could have sworn she saw Andrew smirk.

“Right! I’m tired, heartbroken, and fucking starving, so I suggest we talk more about this after I’ve consumed a sub the size of a small child. Jinkx, can you go and get one of the girls out there to go to Subway for me? And actually get me a cookie or ten while you’re at it,” Sharon ordered, signalling the meeting was over. Willam’s heart panged at her joke-that-wasn’t-really-a-joke, and it reminded her to check her phone to see if there was anything from Alaska.

Still nothing.

As people started leaving the room, Willam felt compelled to stay and talk to Sharon, to see how she was coping. Maybe she could offer advice but it was more likely that she would just be listening to her pine. Looking out into the department, she saw Andrew leaning on Courtney’s desk as he spoke to her. All of a sudden Willam completely changed her mind, making a beeline for the desk. She could hear snippets of their conversation as she approached. Courtney was now the one speaking and Andrew was listening intently.

“…yeah, I did three years at LSE and then a postgrad at Cambridge so, as it turns out, I do read books.”

“Clearly,” Andrew smirked, then bit his lip. “This is going to seem forward, but do you want to tell me more about these millions of degrees you have over lunch?”

Before Courtney could answer, Willam had reached them both and was opening her mouth.

“Oh, shit, lunch sounds great! I’m down for lunch. Hey Vixen, Blair!” she called over, fully aware that she was behaving like a massive asshole and yet doing absolutely nothing to stop it. “You guys want to grab lunch with us?”

Twenty minutes of suffering under a permanent glare from Courtney later, Willam was standing in a busy Wagamamas with the three new interns and Courtney, waiting for a table. When approached by a waitress she asked for a table for five, which was met with a grimace.

“Ooh, I’m sorry, I won’t have one of those for another twenty minutes?” she said apologetically. Courtney immediately stepped in.

“Could you do a two and a three?”

“I could manage that for you,” the waitress shrugged, Courtney immediately grabbing Andrew’s hand and pulling him beside her.

“Great! We’ll take the two.”

Before Willam could speak, the waitress was leading the two of them away. Courtney still hadn’t let go of Andrew’s hand.

“Sheesh, what’s her fucking problem?” Vixen piped up. Willam turned to face her and noticed firstly that her face was screwed up, and secondly that she and Blair were holding hands.

“It’s…complex. I could tell you guys about it over lunch?”

Willam supposed it was character development, her opening up about everything that had happened between her and Courtney to two relative strangers that she’d known for all of two days. She found it cathartic, though, to talk through everything to two people who didn’t really know her and didn’t really know Courtney, and by the time she was finished she did admittedly feel a bit better. She’d watched with amusement as the difference between the two girls was displayed in front of her as they reacted to her story- Blair’s face like a comedy sketch as she gasped and ooh-ed and aah-ed at every new development while Vixen’s face very rarely changed.

“It probably all paints me as a total fucking idiot, but I guess if the shoe fits,” Willam shrugged, taking a sip of the iced tea which sat in front of her. With a pang she looked over to the booth that Andrew and Courtney were sharing, and the two of them were laughing loudly, Courtney tucking her hair behind her ears.

“I don’t think it’s idiotic at all. You were going after the job you wanted while trying to keep the girl you wanted. Makes sense,” Vixen shrugged. “If Courtney can’t see the situation for what it was then that’s her problem. She’s the one that’s being the idiot, not you.”

Blair had followed Willam’s eyes. “Do you think she actually likes Andrew or do you think she’s just flirting with him to make you jealous?”

“Hard to say,” Willam sighed, pulling her gaze back to the girls in front of her. “Whichever one it is, it’s making me feel like a total dick.”

“Oh, don’t feel that way,” Blair frowned, reaching forward and patting Willam’s hand.

“Remember, it’s impossible to be the biggest dick in the room when Andrew Brady is in there with you,” Vixen smirked, earning herself a scolding look from Blair.

“Vix, don’t,” she chastised her. “He has his moments, I’m sure he’s sweet underneath it all.”

“He’s a cunt is what he is.”

Willam was intrigued. Vixen’s dislike of Andrew seemed to be more than superficial. “What has he done to be so…hated? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Vixen rolled her eyes hard. “I arrived to the internship process. Got hit on by him immediately. Told him I wasn’t interested and became public enemy number one. Any opportunity to undermine me, he took.”

“Fuck. That’s shitty,” Willam’s eyes widened.

“When Blair joined, he moved on to her, although she wasn’t about to tell him to fuck off like I did, so she just politely did the smile and awkward laugh for weeks and weeks. Blair was the object of Andrew’s affections right up until he arrived at Dosac,” Vixen continued, looking protectively at Blair.

“Thank fuck,” Blair muttered, then suddenly backtracking. “I mean he was never creepy about it or inappropriate or anything. Just…fucking relentless, you know?”

“That is creepy and inappropriate. Thank Jesus he’s stopped bothering you. I was fucking exhausted from distracting him all the time so that you were safe from his advances,” Vixen said bluntly, taking a swift drink from her can of coke.

Willam smiled at the both of them. “So how long have you guys been together?”

Blair’s face blanched and Vixen very nearly did a spit-take from her coke can. Willam’s eyes widened.

“Sorry- I just assumed that-”

“Oh, no, it’s okay! But yeah we’re not…we’re not together! We’re just best friends,” Blair smiled sweetly, looking to Willam and then at Vixen, whose smile was only slightly forced.

“We’re the OG two bros sitting in a hot tub, five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay,” Vixen said dryly, Blair’s face lighting up as she laughed. Willam wasn’t completely convinced, but she moved the conversation along anyway.

“Well, never get involved with anyone from work. It didn’t go very well for me.”

“Why have you just given up?” Vixen asked her, her eyes suddenly judgemental and making Willam feel awkward. “If you liked her that much, you should try to win her back. That’s what I’d do.”

“Oh, that’s so romantic,” Blair gushed, Vixen’s cheeks going slightly pink.

“Honestly, I’ve tried,” Willam leant back in her chair and stole another look at the table that Courtney was sitting at. It appeared that she’d gone to the toilet, probably to re-apply lipgloss or something similar.

“Not hard enough,” Vixen leant forward, her face suddenly conspiratorial. “You need to really fight. Get her back. If only just so that we can see Andrew Brady’s face falling when he realises that he’s not some fucking Greek God.”

Willam bit her lip as she glanced again to Courtney’s empty seat. “She’s at the toilet now. I should go and tell her about Andrew.”

“Yes! Tell her what he’s really like, she’s bound to be put off by that,” Blair encouraged her excitedly. Willam frowned a little, nodded, and stood up, making sure to walk past Andrew and glare as she made her way to the toilets.

He was playing with his phone and didn’t see her, but Willam was buoyed by her power move nonetheless.

Just as she’d expected, she found Courtney standing at the mirror with a mascara wand, her hand raised to her eyes which darted to the door and instantly narrowed as she saw who had come in.

“Court-”

“Don’t fucking ‘Court’ me,” she snapped, putting the wand back in the tube and averting her eyes. “You’ve been behaving like a grade A dick since Andrew arrived at the department, Willam. Or should I say even more of a dick than usual?”

Willam gave a small sigh. “I guess I deserve that.”

“Yeah. You do,” Courtney said awkwardly, looking at the mirror and then finally glancing at Willam. “What do you want anyway?”

“Okay look, I know I’ve been cunty to Andrew but he’s not what you think, Court, the guy’s a total fuckhead,” she heard herself pleading in desperation. Courtney gave a smirk and folded her arms, leaning back against the wall.

“Oh, this should be good. What, he’s responsible for war crimes in the West Indes? He’s wanted for animal abuse in seven countries? He comes up with better policies than you?”

“He’s a fuckboy,” Willam interrupted her, her voice measured but angry. How could she be so defensive of him after two days? “He’s gone after Vixen and Blair, and he was a cunt to Vixen when she rejected him. He only stopped pursuing Blair once he saw you! He’s a total leech. He’d be going after Sharon if she wasn’t publically out.”

Courtney tipped her head back and laughed callously. “You are so full of shit even your eyes are brown!”

Willam frowned. “Okay one, you stole that from Gordon Ramsay and two, they’re fucking blue.”

Courtney ignored her. “First of all, that is total lies. Andrew told me all about this situation and it was Vixen that came onto him, not the other way round! When he rejected her she turned Blair against him and they both totally hate him now!”

“Well he would say that,” Willam rolled her eyes, not believing a single word. “When did he even tell you this anyway?”

“Just now, over lunch. He also told me he’s a vegan, and he’s done business with Alan Sugar,” Courtney inspected her nails. Willam couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh so that means what, he drinks soya milk instead of green label and he applied for The Apprentice but got rejected?”

Courtney gave a sarcastic laugh of her own and stepped forward, making as if to leave but ending up right in front of Willam. “Admit it- you can’t stand him because he’s shown an interest in me and I’m showing an interest back, and you can’t bear it when I’m not fawning over you.”

“No, I can’t stand him because he’s a smarmy dickhead who clearly bullshits ridiculous amounts and you’ve fallen for it all without even questioning it!” she scowled, sighing suddenly as she met Courtney’s eyes. She could feel herself starting to talk as if it was her last chance to ever get Courtney on her own. “But of course I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous, Court, I mean I still fucking…care about you. And I miss you, and I wish I’d never said all that shit to Bianca but you know that, and I just wish we could move forward and put all this crap behind us because it’s fucking killing me, Court.”

“Willam…” Courtney exhaled, looking to the ceiling and shaking her head. Sensing her moment of weakness, Willam continued.

“And I know you still care about me too. And I know for sure there’s a part of you that’s making all this effort with Andrew to make me jealous, and it’s working. I want you back, Court, and I know you want to come back, so fuck it, why don’t we just try again?”

They were so close to each other and Courtney’s eyes were lowered to the floor as if she really was reconsidering, and Willam was so caught up in the moment and truly believed she had a chance that she suddenly took Courtney’s chin, raised it and kissed her, hoping it would bring Courtney round, hoping it would make Courtney completely fall for her again, and Willam couldn’t measure the amount she’d missed Courtney’s soft lips on hers and-

The shove came out of nowhere. Although if Willam was being honest, she supposed she deserved it. Courtney’s face was thunderous as she glared at Willam, making her way to leave.

“The sooner you realise you’re not God’s fucking gift, the better,” she hissed at her, before opening the bathroom door and leaving.

Willam looked at herself in the mirror. Her pupils were blown from lust, and her face was beetroot red from the fucking embarrassment.

“Well that went well,” she muttered to herself, rubbing her neck and standing there, alone.

***

Willam arrived the next day with a renewed sense of fight. She’d spent the rest of yesterday embarrassed, not even able to touch her pad thai as she explained what had happened to Vixen and Blair, and she had gone back to the department with a red face and had quietly worked on the citizenship stats until she went home.

Not today, though, Willam resolved. Today would be different. Today was the day that she was back to bossing things at work. She had spent all night coming up with stats that showed why Andrew’s spare-bedroom tax was a fucking catastrophic idea, and she was prepared to land them on Sharon’s desk with a thud as soon as she got through the door. There was no way in hell that policy was happening, not if she could help it.

Her new-found determination didn’t just stop at work. If Courtney was allowed to flirt and make Willam jealous, then Willam was going to do it right back. She had stopped off at Oxford Street after work and bought herself a new black-and-yellow tartan jacket and miniskirt combo, taking advantage of the memory she had of when she and Courtney had watched Clueless together and Courtney had gushed about how seeing Cher Horowitz on screen for the first time had been her sexual awakening. Willam had blow-dried her hair out so that it was sleek and shining, and she’d woken up half an hour early to do her makeup. Courtney was right, she had been behaving like an asshole, but this asshole was not going down without a fight.

She strode into the office with her head held high, despite the fact she was twenty minutes late and Sharon would almost definitely already be in. If there was ever a time to be late, however, it was when Sharon was pining after Alaska and cared about very little. On her way up to the office in the lift, she checked her hair one last time before stepping out and trotting her way inside.

The first person to notice her was Katya, the only one who still took the time to say good morning to her anymore, who lifted her head from her desk and stared at her with wide eyes.

“Holy fuck, Willam! You look hot as shit today!” she cried, Willam laughing a little at her lack of subtlety.

“Thanks, Katya. Figured I needed some new outfits for work, so I just treated myself last night when I got home.”

“You look like the bitch from Clueless,” Katya continued, Willam allowing herself to cast her eyes to Courtney’s desk. She wished she had her phone out to capture what she saw- Courtney, who had obviously just been talking to Andrew, had her mouth hanging open, her jaw slack, and her eyes almost staring out of her head. It was exactly what Willam had wanted to happen. Andrew, for his part, looked mildly impressed, if a little pissed off that Courtney’s attention had been taken.

Willam calmly walked to her seat and sat down, bringing out the massive poly pocket full of statistics and articles and firing up her computer. Looking out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sharon in her office, scrolling through her phone and looking bored. She decided to strike while the iron was hot. Jumping up from her desk, she grabbed the poly pocket and knocked on the door, hardly waiting for a “come in” before she burst in. Sharon looked up from her phone and raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“You look like a 13 year old trying to get into a nightclub.”

“And good morning to you too. Jesus fuck, what is that smell?” Willam screwed up her nose, looking around the office for the offending odour.

“Most of the footlong sub from yesterday. It’s in the bin,” Sharon gestured lethargically. Willam frowned and sat in the seat in front of her.

“Sharon, you need to eat something.”

“What? I managed most of the cookies and I’m still drinking coffee. That’s like, vitamins, right?” Sharon rolled her eyes as if she was an unimpressed teenager getting nagged by a parent. “Why are you in here anyway, Willam?”

Just as she’d envisioned, Willam slapped the poly pocket onto Sharon’s desk. “That is about 26 A4 pages full of numbers and stats as to why that fucking spare room tax is the worst idea since…fuck it, it’s too early, I can’t come up with putdowns.”

“Willam, it’s too late,” Sharon laughed humourlessly. “It’s going ahead. Press conference on Friday.”

Willam had never been closer to flipping an actual table. “What the fuck, Sharon?!”

“I had my meeting with the PM this morning- not that you’d know because you were late,” Sharon gave her a stern look from across the table. “And I brought up the policy with him. He said it was exactly the kind of thing we should be doing. So it’s going ahead.”

“That is not a fucking green light, Sharon, and you know it. Should is not equivalent to yes.”

Sharon screwed up her face. “Yes it fucking is! If someone says to you, we should do this, it’s approval! It’s them saying yes!”

Willam threw herself back in the chair, irritated. Sharon’s gaze softened as she saw how annoyed she was.

“Look, Willam. Would I be launching this policy if I hadn’t spent all of last night researching it myself? I know what it entails, I know of the drawbacks. It’s a good idea. I know you’re pissed because Andrew came up with it and he’s the fucking devil incarnate to you right now, but I’m going ahead with it. Jinkx is phoning the treasury.”

Willam gave a heavy sigh. Just then, there was a knock on the door. She could see Bianca’s wide eyes staring in through the glass, and Sharon gave a call for her to come in.

“Morning, all. How are things? Please don’t tell me if anything’s gone wrong, I’m at the point where I’d rather not know,” she said, sinking into the chair beside Willam. Sharon seemed to wake up a little upon the arrival of her boss.

“Quite the opposite, actually. We’re launching a new policy on Friday. Cleared it with the PM. Treasury’s being phoned. It’s going ahead.”

Bianca raised her eyebrows, impressed. “Cleared it with the PM? Very nice. What is it?”

“It’s a spare room tax. Taxing the rich fuckers that rattle about in their big houses to raise money for less well-off families. Andrew thought of it,” Sharon shrugged. Bianca looked out at the office only to see Andrew leaning on Courtney’s desk as they both laughed.

She frowned. “Yeah, well I’m glad he manages to get some good ideas out there in between buttering up that jar of vegemite out there. Take it you two are finished whatever it was you had, then?”

Bianca had turned to Willam. Willam tried her best not to seem as if she’d just been stabbed in the stomach. “Yes, that’s done, Bianca.”

“Good,” she smiled easily. “How are the children, anyway?”

“Andrew is a fucking smartarse whose only goal is to stand about and talk to Courtney all day,” Willam immediately jumped in, feeling like a simmering pot. “Blair is pleasant but could do with some more training- she knows very little. If you don’t hire Vixen at the end of the internship then you’re an idiot. She’s far and away the most competent of the three.”

Bianca let out a laugh. “She’s also a hothead. You’ve not seen her lose the rag with anyone yet. I like her though, she’s fun. Any opinions, Sharon?”

“I don’t really have the energy to care much about three people who aren’t even going to be in the department come next week, to be honest.”

“I can see that,” Bianca said gravely. Her voice became quieter. “How are things with you, anyway?”

Sharon paused and looked at the ceiling. “Good days and bad days.”

“Are you eating enough?” Bianca then turned to Willam. “Make sure she’s eating enough.”

“I will.”

“This might cheer you up,” Bianca turned to address Sharon. “They’ve taken a man in for questioning regarding the threats. He’s being detained at Scotland Yard, so you should be safe for now. Ely is still going to shadow you at home as a precaution, but you should be able to rest easy for a while.”

“Oh! Hallelujah! Bring out the fucking confetti cannons! Thank fuck I no longer am being threatened! That’s something to really celebrate! Sorry,” Sharon sighed as she calmed down, the sarcastic tone in her voice melting away. “Just…lots of things are hard right now. But thank you for making something easier, Bianca.”

Bianca looked to the floor and coughed, as if she was embarrassed.

“Right then. I will be on my way,” Bianca said by way of a goodbye, standing up and tucking her chair in.

As Willam watched her retreat through the office door, she frowned at Sharon. “Hey. Be grateful. She’s doing as much as she can.”

“Have you actually become my mother overnight?!” Sharon snapped, scowling.

“Well if you’re not going to look after yourself, someone has to!” Willam bit back, shocked at herself over how defensive she was being. Thankfully, mercifully, Sharon had the good grace to look embarrassed before the conversation descended down a path Willam didn’t want to take.

“Sorry, Willam. You’re right, I should be happy he’s been put away. And thank you,” she sighed, finally meeting Willam’s eyes. “For looking after me.”

“Just…take care,” Willam frowned awkwardly, before a small smile spread across her face. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you. Who else would have the drive to launch a policy two weeks after a devastating breakup?”

“Anything to take my mind off the situation,” Sharon laughed dryly, suddenly staring into space. Willam looked at her, the woman that had once looked so powerful suddenly seeming so small in her chair.

“I’ll make you a cup of tea? It’s not food but it’s close,” Willam shrugged, hoping Sharon would say yes so that there would at least be something in her stomach. Sharon nodded wordlessly from behind her computer and Willam got up immediately, making her way to the kitchen.

She was just about to walk in when she stopped in her tracks as she heard a laugh she recognised as Courtney’s interspersed with another man’s- obviously Andrew’s. She could have walked straight in and made the situation awkward, but instead she paused. She didn’t know what she was expecting to hear.

“So, did you ever expect to get one of your policies launched when you turned up to intern here?”

“Well, I never expected to see someone as fit as you here, but here we are.”

Willam felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach as Courtney laughed again. “Shut up! You’re a dog. But seriously, you must be happy?”

“Yeah, I am. It’s a good policy. Shame not everyone could be convinced.”

Immediately, Willam froze. It was obvious he was talking about her and now the conversation was going to go down a road she wasn’t sure she wanted to follow. Still, she kept listening.

“Oh, don’t worry about Willam,” Courtney said, with a sigh in her voice. “She’s everyone’s biggest critic.”

“Yeah well, that’s fine if you have the knowledge to back it up. Didn’t see her coming up with many decent ideas in that meeting,” Andrew laughed scathingly. Willam felt something inside her pop- this was the first time she had ever heard anyone question how good she was at her job, and it only made her dislike of Andrew more intense. Her heart hurt as she felt sure Courtney would jump at the chance to bad mouth her.

“No, she didn’t have many,” Courtney started, her voice somewhat hesitant. “But she is a good member of the team. She was behind most of New Communities, actually. And apparently Bianca is lining her up for a job at Number 10. Say what you like about her, but she’s good at her job.”

Willam stood frozen to the spot, a little stunned. She wasn’t quite sure what to think, or say. Courtney continued, the clang of a spoon against porcelain indicating something being stirred. “I’ll probably get forgotten about when she goes there, and Alaska hasn’t messaged me once since she walked out. Like, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy being an advisor, but…it’s just shit when your friends leave you on their way up the ladder.”

“I didn’t realise you and Willam were friends,” Andrew prompted her, his tone questioning and almost a little accusatory.

“We’ve…” the stirring stopped as Courtney paused. “We’ve had a bit of a falling-out. Things are a bit weird between us at the moment. But that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring about her.”

Willam felt as if there were tiny fireworks in her blood, her pulse so fast it seemed electric. Courtney still cared.

“What, she try to steal your man or something?” Andrew laughed. “She has that look about her.”

Willam didn’t even care about the jibe. Courtney still cared about her.

“How could she steal my man when he’s right in front of me?” Willam could hear the smile in Courtney’s voice, and Andrew at once barked a laugh.

“I don’t know why you keep telling me off for flirting when you’re just as bad.”

“True. You love it though,” Courtney was still smiling. “Come on, let’s get back. I think Bianca’s gone now so she won’t tell you off for chatting to me.”

“What a way to get fired, though.”

Willam felt panic rise in her stomach as she heard movement from within the kitchen, immediately sprinting as quietly as she could manage back down the corridor, back into the department and launching herself into her seat. She was at once hurt and overjoyed, hopeful and pessimistic, and she hadn’t a clue what to think.

It was only about an hour later that she remembered that she was meant to make Sharon a tea.

***

The two days leading up to the new policy launch had been the longest of Willam’s life. Watching Andrew and Courtney’s flirting become more and more frequent and watching Vixen and Blair continue to behave like Care Bears was taking its toll big time, and Willam had been quietly preparing for the new launch alone. At times, however, she was sure she saw Courtney watching her out of the corner of her eye, or passing by her desk as if she wanted to speak to her. She wasn’t sure if she was reading the situation correctly or just going absolutely mental.

Finally, however, it was Friday, and the nightmare that had been this week would soon be over. Willam just had a press conference to get through and she could wave the interns goodbye (well, wave Vixen and Blair goodbye and all but stick her heel up Andrew’s backside), go home and sit alone trying to get her head straight.

It was lunchtime, and the press conference was due to take place in only an hour when everything started to go to shit. Willam was working on the immigration figures when she suddenly heard a massive squeal from the comms team. Looking over, she saw Courtney standing by Trixie’s desk. She seemed to be frantically trying to shush her, but she was laughing and had a massive smile on her face. Willam watched as Katya wheeled her way over to the two girls, confusion painted on her face. Listening closely, Willam’s heart dropped when she heard Trixie stage-whisper to Katya.

“He asked her on a date!”

As Katya began squealing, Willam’s eyes seemed to stare into the paper in front of her. What the fuck? Only two days ago, Courtney had seemed as if she still maybe wanted to try again with her, and she had only known Andrew for five days. Now she was going on a date with him? Willam felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. Rising slowly from her desk, she began to walk to Sharon’s office. Not bothering to knock, she instead flung the door open, the rage now showing on her face.

“Can you fucking believe that that fucking weasel-faced newborn baby prick out there is taking Courtney on a date? I mean can you fucking believe it?!” Willam immediately exploded, before stopping quickly. Sharon was on the phone, her face grave, and whatever it was didn’t seem good. Willam could only listen, and she recognised Bianca’s tinny yelling down the phone instantly.

“But it did really sound as if he wanted to…yes, I know what he said, I’m sorry….well we can’t cancel it, they’ll be here in an hour! Well I don’t know! Bianca-” Sharon looked at her phone as the other woman had clearly hung up. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.”

“What is it? What’s happened?” Willam asked, immediately anxious. Sharon shot up from her desk chair, making her way to the door. She was babbling the whole time.

“If someone says “should”, it means yes! “Should” is a positive thing, right? He said “we should be doing this”, so how the fuck was I supposed to know he didn’t actually want to do it?!” Sharon threw open the glass door and shouted out into the office. “My office, now!”

Willam could only watch as Sharon retreated back to her chair and Courtney, Andrew, Vixen, Blair and Jinkx ran in, their faces painted with identical expressions of confusion.

“What’s happening?” Blair asked nervously, brave enough to be the first one to speak.

“What’s happening is that Bianca has just phoned me telling me that the Prime Minister is absolutely livid with me, because allegedly “should” doesn’t mean yes, and when he said that he approved of my policy, he apparently didn’t approve it enough to mean actually launch it!” Sharon ranted, tearing her hands through her hair in distress. Willam exhaled loudly.

“I fucking knew we shouldn’t have gone with this policy, I fucking said-”

“Oh, shut up, Willam!” Courtney snapped, Willam immediately looking at her in shock. Courtney looked a little shocked too, as if she was surprised she’d said it herself.

“Hey,” Vixen suddenly opened her mouth, glaring at Courtney. “Don’t speak to her like that. You’re meant to be a professional, not a fucking child.”

“Says the woman who’s swearing in the workplace?” Andrew rolled his eyes, turning on Vixen. Willam saw the fire flash in Vixen’s eyes, and she seemed to be just about to bit back when Blair butted in.

“You absolute fucking hypocrite! Don’t start pretending you’re above swearing just because you want to impress Courtney!”

“Would you all just shut the fuck up and stop bickering like six year olds?!” Sharon suddenly exploded, the room immediately falling silent. “I have to completely invent a policy to launch at this press conference, which is now-” she looked at the clock. “- fifty minutes away, and my entire team of advisors are arguing?!”

Everyone looked to the floor, embarrassed. Silence fell as everyone racked their brains to come up with something to launch while Sharon paced nervously.

“Sharon,” Courtney began softly. “Weren’t you and Alaska working on a campaign at some point? The one about mental health for teenagers? It’s not a policy, but it could be the focus for the press conference?””

Sharon stopped, sitting down and appearing at once to deflate. “We were, but it’s nowhere near completion. I suppose we could have used it, but she’s got it all on her memory stick.”

Andrew frowned. “Can’t you call her and ask for it?”

Sharon narrowed her eyes. “I’ve been trying to phone her every day for the last fortnight, I somehow doubt she’ll pick up now.”

“She’s not answered any of my texts either,” Courtney sighed, her shoulders slumping. Willam took her phone out of her pocket, suddenly angry at Alaska.

“This is ridiculous. She’s going to have to pick up for one of us sometime. I’m phoning her,” she said decisively, stepping out of the crowded office and into the adjacent meeting room to give herself some privacy.

The line began to ring.

“Come on Alaska. Pick up,” Willam whispered to herself through gritted teeth, the silence only amplifying how loud her heart was pounding.

Three more rings.

“Come on you fucking son of a bitch mother fucking-”

“Willam,” Alaska’s voice came down the line, a little weary but still very much seeming like her old self. “How are you?”

“Jesus Christ, well thanks very much for answering all my other calls and texts,” Willam began, exasperated beyond belief at how Alaska could just pick up the phone and act like nothing had happened.

“So still the same old grumpy bitch I know and love.”

“Alaska, this isn’t the time to joke with me right now, we’re in serious shit. I need you to come into Dosac and bring the pen drive with the teenage mental health campaign on it, it’s urgent.”

“Oh, that’s nice, so you’re only phoning because you want something?” Alaska’s voice turned cold down the line. Willam felt as if she was about to pop with anger.

“Well if you wanted to talk about our lives then you should have picked up the other fucking twenty times I phoned you!”

A beat of silence. “I’ve been busy. The by-election’s soon.”

“Well I’ve been busy too, but believe it or not, Alaska, my life’s still been crumbling apart and I could have used a friend!” Willam barked, only realising how loud her voice was when she tuned back into the silence of the room.

“I saw your texts,” Alaska started, her voice apologetic. “I’m sorry about what happened with you and Courtney.”

Willam sighed. “Yeah, well. Me too.”

There was a small amount of time where neither of them spoke.

“I can’t go back into Dosac, Willam,” Alaska said, Willam almost able to see her shaking her head.

“Oh Alaska, come the fuck on, swallow your damn pride. We need that campaign, please.”

“Does Sharon know I’m being phoned?”

Willam wasn’t sure what the best answer would be. “Yes.”

“Fuck,” Alaska groaned quietly, and Willam’s heart sank. “Could one of you not just meet me in the lobby with it or something?”

“Alaska, we’ve got a press conference in forty-five minutes that we need this campaign for. Act like a fucking adult and just come into work.”

There was a silence on the line in which Willam was afraid Alaska would hang up. She decided to hit her where it hurt.

“If you ever cared about Sharon, you’d bring the fucking stick in.”

“Willam, that’s fucking-” Alaska began, angry, then there came a sigh down the phone. “Fine. I’ll come in. See you soon.”

Before Willam could say anything else, Alaska hung up. Immediately, she dashed back through to the office, where everyone was waiting nervously in silence.

“She’s coming in with it,” Willam said, Courtney exhaling with relief. “Didn’t say how long she’d be but I hope she’s here before we have to start.”

“Holy fuck, right, okay,” Sharon said, her eyes darting around her desk in panic. “Um, interns, get back to whatever you were doing, I need you working hard when she gets here. Courtney, I need to borrow your makeup.”

“Can I do anything?” Willam offered. Sharon tapped nervously on her desk.

“No, you just stay here. I need two people to resuscitate me if I pass out,” she said, her breathing growing heavier by the minute.

So Willam did wait, as Courtney gently applied Sharon’s makeup and Sharon fretted and worried out loud that Alaska was probably not even going to turn up, and that they’d have to cancel at the last minute, and that they only had half an hour from now and it only takes five minutes to walk from Alaska’s flat to here.

But sure enough, just as Willam was beginning to panic that Alaska wouldn’t arrive and that they were going to have twenty minutes to invent a policy, there came a soft thud of footsteps from down the corridor. Sharon shot up from her desk quicker than Willam could turn her head to see who it was, and the Minister was out of her office door as fast as she could go.

Once Sharon had left her office, Willam watched with a sort of amusement as she immediately froze in front of her ex, seemingly completely unsure of what to say. Alaska, for her part, looked momentarily shocked as if she’d forgotten that Sharon would be present at work.

Willam watched as the two of them stood and looked at each other for what seemed like forever. The interns had clearly sensed the chance in atmosphere and were watching from afar, as were the comms girls. For a moment Willam wondered if she should say something to help either of them out, but luckily Alaska spoke first. She cleared her throat gently.

“Hello, Sharon,” she said, a small, tight smile spreading quickly across her face then disappearing as if it had never been there.

“Alaska. It’s good to see you,” Sharon returned the awkward pleasantries. The way they were speaking was more like work colleagues than girlfriends, although Willam supposed that they weren’t really either any more. “How is the, um. How is the by-election prep going?”

Alaska looked to the floor, even though Sharon’s question didn’t seem to be loaded. “It’s eh, busy. Busy but good, and fun. Meeting new people, making new connections, that sort of thing.”

“Of course,” Sharon smiled briefly, then looked at the pen drive in Alaska’s hand. “Thank you for bringing the campaign in. I know it’s not perfect, but it’s something- we had to scrap this other policy that we had because-”

Sharon suddenly seemed animated, but cut her own sentence off as she caught sight of Alaska’s face, an expression on it that Willam found hard to read- perhaps sadness, perhaps annoyance. She didn’t know. Sharon had stopped speaking and was now looking to the floor as if she had embarrassed herself. “Anyway, I won’t bore you with the details. We can definitely use a lot of what’s here. You had some really good ideas when we came up with this. You’ll be great at policies when you’re an MP.”

Alaska gave what seemed to be a genuine smile at the compliment, suddenly bashful. “I won’t know that until the election.”

“The public will love you,” Sharon smiled softly. Alaska’s gaze seemed to soften as she took a step forward, and for one moment Willam’s heart leapt as she thought Alaska might have been about to give Sharon a kiss, or a hug, but instead she gave her the USB. As their hands made brief contact, a look passed between the girls that made it seem as if both of their hearts were simultaneously breaking.

“You know, Sharon,” Alaska began quietly as she took a step back. “I didn’t have to bring that campaign in. I was going to use it as one of mine if I became an MP.”

“I know,” Sharon gave the tiniest of sighs as she looked Alaska in the eye. “Thank you.”

Alaska paused as if she was about to say something else. For a moment, it seemed as if nothing and nobody in the department moved, the whole room on tenterhooks. Just as Alaska opened her mouth, Jinkx appeared seemingly out of nowhere at Sharon’s side.

“Secretary of State, I’m sorry but I’m afraid I do need to know if- oh! Alaska! There we go, I don’t need an answer now. Pen drive sorted, campaign ready to go! Good to see you, Alaska,” she breezed, disappearing as quickly as she had arrived. Willam could have strangled her- it had seemed as if something was about to be said, something had been about to happen- but instead, Alaska gave a resigned smile.

“Well, good luck with the launch. It was good to see you all. Court, Willam. Sharon,” she gave a shy wave before slowly turning on her heel and walking out of the department, not once turning back.

Courtney was the first to speak. “Are you okay, Sharon?”

“I’m fine,” Sharon said harshly, Willam not failing to notice the rough swallow the other woman gave.

“Definitely?” Willam prompted gently, stopping when Sharon turned to glare at her.

“I’m fine,” she repeated. “Let’s launch this fucker.”

***

Willam came to on a familiar sofa with a soft blanket tucked around her shoulders and a clanking of cutlery and crockery slowly making its way into her stream of consciousness. Opening her eyes and blinking, she was relieved to find she had escaped the hangover that had seemed so impending the night before. Her gaze found its way to the kitchen in the other corner of the room, where the tall, skinny girl was busy spooning something slightly orange-y into two identical chipped blue bowls. Willam sat up gingerly on the sofa, suddenly worried in case the hangover hit her square in the face. Luckily it didn’t.

She frowned as she watched the other girl in the kitchen. “Sharon?”

The girl quickly looked up, smiling to reveal a gap between her two front teeth and brushing her yellowy-blonde hair out of her face. “Oh good, you’re awake.”

“Yeah. I don’t really know how I got here last night.”

“Meh. Same way you normally get here,” Sharon shrugged, cleaning her glasses on the oversized t-shirt she used as a pyjama top which were fogged up from the steam of whatever she had been cooking.

“I don’t remember shit,” Willam sighed, leaning forward and rubbing her temples as if it would conjure up any memories. “Fuck, I’m meant to have a group meeting at 12pm for this fucking project, I’ve got 3,000 words due for tomorrow and I took so much shit that I didn’t know the name of last night. Why is my life such a mess?”

Sharon smirked, bringing the two bowls towards her and sitting them down on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. She sank into the space beside Willam, snuggling under the blanket and resting her head against her shoulder. Willam shook her head as she picked up the bowl, a clean-ish silver fork sticking out of it. “What in the fuck is this?”

“Canned ravioli,” Sharon smiled, Willam screwing her face up in response. Sharon continued before she had the chance to protest. “Hey. Listen. It’s a hug in a bowl. It can fix everything. It is the ultimate fucking comfort food. Just eat until you feel better.”

Willam allowed the flash of a memory to play through her mind before she picked up the two mugs that sat in front of her, stuck a fork in each of them, and carried them through to the department. Most people had gone home after the campaign had been launched without what seemed to be too much of a hitch- certainly Courtney had left the building, arm-in-arm with Andrew as they chatted excitedly about their date on Saturday night. Willam was hurt badly, but she supposed that she was glad that Courtney had seemed to have found someone who could make her happy. If that person wasn’t Willam, then that was that. Willam wasn’t quite at the level of acceptance yet, but she was just relieved that Courtney seemed happy.

Sharon, on the other hand, didn’t look nearly ready to accept anything yet. Since her encounter with Alaska she’d been even worse than she had been, and had spent the hours after the campaign launch sitting alone in her office. So Willam had decided to do what had always seemed to fix things for them both at Uni, and had nipped out to the shop to get the remedy. She wasn’t sure that it would work, but it was worth a try.

She gently knocked on Sharon’s door, careful not to knock any of the contents of the mugs in front of her onto the floor. Without waiting for permission to enter, Willam shouldered the door open as Sharon looked up from her desk, confused.

“Willam, I don’t need tea.”

“No, it’s food. You’re going to eat it and like it,” Willam chastised her, placing the mug in front of her and watching as her face grew astonished. “And maybe it’ll fix everything in our lives that have gone to shit.”

A small, genuine smile crept onto Sharon’s face. “Holy shit. I haven’t had this in forever. Definitely not since Uni.”

Willam smirked as she sat down. “I could have guessed that much. I don’t think there’s many politicians out there who eat canned ravioli.”

“Why is it in a mug?” Sharon snorted a small laugh as she picked up the mug and brought it towards her. Willam rolled her eyes.

“There were no clean bowls- Sharon, what does it matter, just eat the damn thing!”

Sharon gave Willam a rueful look before stabbing a fork into one of the pasta pockets then eating it. Willam couldn’t help but look expectantly at her. Noticing her looking, Sharon let out a laugh.

“Are we gonna do the whole rigmarole around it too?!”

“Aw, come on. We have to, Sharon, it’s tradition,” Willam smiled, suddenly a little embarrassed. Sharon put her mug down and sighed.

“Okay, the love of my entire life has left me and I’m too proud or maybe too stupid to make a proper attempt to get her back because I know she’s better off without me, someone out there wants to kill me, and we’re definitely going to lose seats in this by-election,” Sharon reeled her problems off one by one. Willam picked her own mug up and leaned back in the chair opposite Sharon’s desk.

“Courtney hates me and she’s about to go on a date with a fucking asshole who she’s known all of one week,” she said, stabbing a bit of ravioli. She shrugged. “You definitely win this one.”

The two girls were silent for a while as they ate their first bite, both of them having to cope with how hot the pasta was. After Willam had swallowed, she frowned at Sharon.

“Alaska’s not better off without you.”

Sharon laughed. “Come on, Willam. She was right, my life is work and nothing else. All I have to talk about is work. Who wants that?”

“That’s not true,” Willam told her, pausing before adding to her sentence. “Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Willam looked down into her ravioli to avoid seeing Sharon’s reaction.

“Hey. Why don’t we go for drinks tomorrow night?” Sharon said out of nowhere, causing Willam to look up and eye her somewhat suspiciously. Sharon shrugged by way of an explanation, then continued. “Courtney’s on her date. Alaska’s probably out having fun with all her new connections somewhere. Why don’t we go get drunk together?”

Willam hesitated. She wasn’t sure if it would bring back too many memories she didn’t want to think about, or if she’d have to talk about anything she really didn’t want to. But looking at Sharon and seeing her hopeful smile made Willam reconsider. It would probably be a decent laugh, and getting drunk really seemed tempting what with the condition her life was in right now. Willam returned the smile.

“Okay, yeah. That sounds good.”

They smiled at each other again, then ate the rest of their food in companionable silence, the worries of the day somewhat forgotten about at least for a little while.

#just the game we're in #ortega #witney #shalaska #au #courtney act #willam belli #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #jinkx monsoon #bianca del rio #katya zamolodchikova #rpdr fanfiction #jtgwi

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