by The Paperbag Princess (c. 1997-98)

Why is the door to my apartment open?

Did I lock it? Yes... no. Maybe?

God knows I'd been distracted over the past several days. It was probably nothing.

Still, I pushed open the door slowly.

Had I left the lights on, as well? I didn't normally.

I walked down the short hallway past my loft of a bedroom slowly, trying to convince myself that everything was fine.

Where was my computer?

Hadn't I left the bag with my laptop right next to the door?

The wall looked empty without the TV sitting there.

Panic rose in my chest when I realized I was ankle deep in prints, and my filing cabinet was standing open.

They were surely after the Oasis prints. A common thief wouldn't care about my photos.

Without another thought, I ran to the open window, slipping as photos slid under my feet. Leaning out, I saw that Alex was thankfully only a few steps away. My first attempt to call him back was too quiet, so I took a deep breath and practically shrieked his name.

At the note of panic in my voice, he whirled around, looking up at me in the light from a street lamp, concern showing in his dark eyes. "What, Emmie?"

"I... I've been robbed. Could you..."

He didn't even let me finish. "Toss me the keys, I'll be right up."

The keys were still clutched in my hand, and I lobbed them out the window, watching as he caught them gracefully and moved towards the main door. Shock was setting in, and when he entered the apartment a moment later, I was still standing at the window, just surveying the damage.

"Fuck me. You didn't just get robbed, they fucking trashed the place. Are you OK?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm just stunned."

"Did you see anyone?"

It hadn't even crossed my mind that the intruder could still bein my home. Alex moved towards the bedroom, and I could hear him opening the closet and bathroom doors. No, they were surely gone by now. I shuddered, wrapping my arms around myself. Somebody had been in my home, and destroyed my things. My god, my computer was gone. I had email files going back more than two years on there, not to speak of every paper I'd ever written for school. God knows what else, I'd had the thing since undergrad. I barely used it any longer, now that I had the spiffy laptop, but my life was on that old computer...

Staring at the empty spot on my desk like I could conjure it back up, I didn't even notice that Alex had approached me. "Em?"

I screamed, immediately clapping a hand over my mouth when I realized my overreaction. "Sorry."

"It's OK, completely understandable. I think we should call the police."

I blinked at him for half a second, and then my brain finally kicked into overdrive. "I have to get to my studio. It's probably fine, but they were surely after the Oasis photos, and they wouldn't find them here."

"How do you know they were after the Oasis stuff?"

"Would a normal burglar go through all my photos?"

He nodded, surveying the damage. "Good point. Alright, let me call you a cab-"

"OK, I'm a cab." It was such a stupid joke, but it was one we'd always shared, born I don't even know when. We looked at one another and began laughing, my tension dissolving a bit with the familiar sound. Finally I caught my breath and looked at him, fighting back stray giggles.

"Better now?" A smile danced on his lips.

"Yes. Thank you." I handed him the phone. "Call me a cab. Surely you have a number memorized. I need to find the keys to my studio."

I shouldn't touch anything, right? Isn't that what they tell you on TV? Where the fuck are my keys? Alex hung up and handed me the keys I'd tossed down to him. "No, my studio keys are... oh, fuck."

"What?"

"My studio keys are in the bag with my laptop, which was stolen. Fuck... no, no, we have security, and they all know that no one's to go up to my studio without me. Where's that fucking cab?" I was thinking out loud, and Alex just let me.

"I only just called for it, Em. It'll be here. What do you want me to do?"

"Um..." I stopped searching for my keys, knowing it was fruitless. "Can you call the police, and stay here until I get back?"

"They have your keys. Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?"

"I’d rather you stay here. It’ll be fine, we have 24 hour security and all that. I’m sure the doorman will come up to my studio with me. Unless you’re scared to be here alone?"

I was teasing, and he smiled at me. "If they come back, I can take ‘em."

I had to laugh. Alex was one of the least aggressive men I’d ever met. "I’d like to see that. But I must get to the studio. Let me write down what they took."

"The TV, the computer and your laptop." He was always good with details.

"My cell phone was in the laptop bag."

"Check. Think they took any of the pictures?"

"Why? There's not much in there." Once I had gotten my studio, I stored them all there. These were just old stuff, nothing professional. Maybe a few of Duran... I couldn't remember any longer. Who knew I had taken so many pictures? Didn't look like that many when they were carefully stored in the file cabinet, but now they seemed to carpet my apartment.

Shit, my jewelry. I hadn't even been up to my bedroom. I ran up the six steps and yanked open the drawers of my dressing table, thankfully finding nothing touched. "Everything there?"

Alex was right behind me, and I smiled up at him. "I don't really have any good jewelry. Lucky for me." A horn outside cut off my thought, and I ran for the door, grabbing my keys as I went.

Alex followed me, holding open the main door after I burst through it. "Em!"

I stopped in my journey towards the cab, turning to look at him. "What?"

"Do you have money for the cab?" Did I? He pressed some money into my hand. "Go, I'll deal with the police."

"Thanks." Sliding into the backseat of the taxi, I rattled off the address of my studio, my mind racing ahead to what I needed to do. Talk to the doorman, see if anyone had tried to get into my studio. Get said doorman to let me in. Grab all traces of the Oasis stuff. Negatives in the top drawer of the case, contact sheets and prints in the main file. And on the desk. Noel and I had met this afternoon, there were a bunch on the coffeetable.

Damn, had I scanned any in? Would there be files on either computer?

No. No, I hadn't done that. They were all hard copies.

Should I grab any other pictures? Anything else important? I ran through my client list in my mind, ticking things off. Fuck, I'd just take all the negatives. Until all my locks were changed, I wasn't going to let any of my work out of my sight.

The cab pulled up to my building, and I thrust some money at the driver, running towards the door. Wonderful, Mike was on tonight, he loved me.

The moment he recognized me, he smiled and got up to let me in. "You should have thought of this before you lent your keys to your friend, Ms. Evesham."

My heart stopped. "What friend?"

"A gentleman was here earlier, said he had your keys and you'd asked him to get something out of your studio."

"Did you let him in?"

"No, I'm sorry. I tried to call you, since you said to-"

I didn't let him finish, just grabbed his shoulders and kissed his cheek. "Bless you, Mike. Bless you. Did you see what he looked like?"

"Middle aged bloke, hat, beard... not the sort you normally hang out with, Ms. Evesham."

Bless meddling security men. "I don't. My apartment was just robbed, and they stole my keys."

"Are you alright? Did they take anything important?"

"Loads of things, and the place is trashed. I need to get into my studio now, can you do that?"

"Of course, of course." He was very concerned, asking all sorts of questions on the elevator ride up, but my mind was only on seeing my studio untouched. He opened the door, insisting upon going in first, and telling me it was all clear.

Praise goddess for security men. Not a thing was out of place, everything just as I'd left it. "I'm fine now, Mike, I need to grab some things and get back to my apartment before the police think I've skipped town. There's a security camera at the main door, isn't there?"

"There is. I can't access the tapes myself, but I'll call those that can."

"Great, thank you."

He left me alone, and I locked the door after him, relief flooding through my body. At least that fucker who'd done this to me hadn't gotten what he was after.

Negatives first. Damn, did I have anything to carry these home in? Where was my briefcase? I found it near the couch, along with the old portfolio I hadn't used in months. Alex had given me that portfolio, our first Christmas together.

Alex. Oh, dear lord, Alex.

I sank into the couch, burying my face in my hands. There was nothing in my files at home, pictures I'd taken before I started doing this professionally, my family, friends, London landscapes...

And Alex. Literally hundreds of pictures of Alex, in the bottom drawer that I never opened, in every mood, light, and state of undress.

I knew with absolute certainty that naked pictures of Alex were going to be everywhere in a matter of hours. It was probably too late for today's tabs, but that asshole who'd broken into my home had gotten something nearly as good as pictures of the Gallaghers trying to kill one another.

He'd gotten Alex Blur naked. If he was really good, he'd found the ones of me and Alex having sex. Those were probably worth a mint.

My work was going to be on naughty webpages soon. Hell, I was going to be on naughty webpages soon.

I sat there for a few minutes, my head on my knees, trying to breathe, finally sitting up with a start. I didn't know anything for sure yet. That bottom drawer of the file cabinet stuck, maybe he hadn't even opened it. Or maybe he hadn't turned on the lights at all, and hadn't seen them. I'd have to go home and find out.

First, negatives. I stuffed everything I could into the briefcase and portfolio, then ran downstairs. Mike was attempting to contact the security company that could help us access the tapes, but he gave up on them to call me a cab.

I'm a cab!

My giggles were truly hysterical this time. How long had it been since I'd slept? How long would it be until I slept again? Oh, god, please let those pictures still be in my file cabinet. Lies about the Gallaghers were bad enough, but my intimate sexual secrets, splashed out on the tabloids? I wasn't sure if I could take that. Those pictures had never been meant for anyone but me and Alex. They were experiments with cameras and timers and sex.

I sat in the cab, hugging my briefcase to my chest, trying not to think too hard about those pictures. That would be emotional overload right now.

The sun was coming up. Already? Had Alex and I stayed out that late? Still, the sun meant newspapers, so I was probably safe from print, at least. Would my apartment being broken into be news?

It was official now. As the cab turned the corner to my place, I saw a police car out front. They probably thought I was a drug dealer on the run from the law or something.

I let myself in, and found two police officers sitting in my kitchen, drinking tea with Alex. Laughing. Making pleasant conversation.

He was so fucking charming when he wanted to be, my Alex. He smiled when he saw me, introducing me to the detectives, and standing up to get me a cup of tea. I tried to be pleasant to them, but all I could really think of was that all three drawers of my file cabinet stood wide open.

For more than an hour, I sat with the detectives, telling them everything I knew, and making a list of everything that was taken. But I avoided the question of whether or not any of my prints were missing, preferring not to panic until I'd looked through everything scattered around the apartment. Alex sat next to me and smoked, getting up once to make a phone call, lighting my cigarettes and refilling my tea.

The sun was fully up when they finally gathered their notes, telling me to call if I remembered anything else. Just as they were leaving, I caught sight of Kate and Jarvis approaching. She smiled when she saw me in the doorway. "Girlfriend, you are way overdressed for this hour of the morning."

I was still in clubbing clothes, wasn't I? Fuck it. I practically fell into her arms, as much as I could when she was a good six inches shorter than me, grateful for her familiar face. "Oh, Emmie, is it very bad?"

"They took all my stuff, Katie."

"Its a good excuse to buy new stuff."

Giggling a bit, I moved away from her. "You see everything as an opportunity for shopping, don't you?"

"What else is there in life?"

"Good point. Why are awake at this hour?"

Jarvis answered my question. "Alex called us."

"That was good of him. Thank you for coming. Not that I have any idea what to do next."

"We'll figure it out. We brought bagels." He offered me a paper bag hopefully, and I scowled.

"British bagels suck."

"I picked them out, babe," Kate said, in her best New York accent.

"You've been here too long. They all suck." We bickered pleasantly as we walked back up to my apartment, finding Alex in the kitchen making more tea.

"Breakfast!" he exclaimed, seeing us.

"Oh, is that why you called them?"

"Absolutely." Jarvis handed the bag to Alex, and they considered one another briefly. Now that I thought about it, this was the first time the three of us had been in the same room since the break-up. It was the first time the four of us had ever been together. If I hadn't been in the midst of a crisis, it might have been tense.

"Fuck, Em." We all turned to look at Kate, who was surveying the damage. "This is worse than I expected."

"Imagine how I felt. So what happened? You were supposed to meet me last night."

"We heard you'd already run off with Alex." She smirked at me, and Alex and I exchanged a brief look of amusement.

"I waited for an hour!"

"We got there at ten, just on time."

"We were supposed to meet at nine."

Jarvis corrected me. "Ten."

I pouted at them. "Fuck. I just can't do anything right lately."

Kate patted my arm. "It's OK. We're here now, what do you want us to do?"

I pondered for a moment, but my mind was blank. "I have no fucking idea."

"I do," Jarvis offered tentatively.

I turned to him. "I'll listen to anything right now."

"I'm practically living with Katie again now, why don't you take my flat?" I just blinked at him for a moment. "It's secure, there's a doorman, and even an alarm. The four of us can box up all of your things and move you in today."

I turned to Kate. "Is he really living with you again?"

She looked as surprised as I was. "Um... I suppose he is."

"I can find another apartment."

They looked at one another for a long moment, and I felt a bit like I was intruding, but finally she shook her head. "No. No, that's fine."

"I never really unpacked from moving out, anyway."

My mind raced with all the details, and I fell into a kitchen chair. "I hate moving."

Alex touched my arm, and I looked up at him. "Do you really want to sleep here tonight?" The panic must have shown in my eyes, because he took my hand reassuringly. "Then we'll help you pack up. All this furniture is rented, right?"

"Yeah, it came with the apartment." Which was always my excuse for the horrific yellow of the sofa.

"Then its just your books and photos and stuff, no big deal."

I bit back a hysterical giggle. "Hell, half my stuff's been stolen. That'll make it easier."

We discussed arrangements over bad bagels, and Jarvis and Alex went off to get Jarvis' car while Kate and I stayed to get started packing. "So, why is Alex here?" she wondered, the very second they were out of earshot.

"Because we stayed up half the night talking about his girlfriend. It's nothing." The last thing I wanted to do right now was speculate about my future with Alex.

"He doesn't seem to be rushing off to see her."

I'd forgotten that he was supposed to be tracking down his Kate. "Hmm. He's just being nice. When they get back, I'll tell him he can go. You and Jarvis and I can handle most of this stuff." My heart sank at the thought that Alex might be leaving. He was the only thing standing between me and a complete meltdown.

Kate considered me for a moment. "I bet you ten quid that he stays."

I laughed. "Fine, it's a bet. Even if he stays, it doesn't mean anything."

She shook her head at me. "One of these days, you and Alex will figure out that you still love one another." Shocked, I just looked at her, frozen in the act of putting our dishes in the sink, making her laugh. "Don't think you've been completely successful in hiding your heart, Emmie."

"But..."

"We'll talk about him later, I'm sure. Right now, you should get in the shower, and we'll start packing. Let me call Matthew, as well."

Matthew was her faithful assistant. "It's a Saturday, you weren't working today, were you?"

"No. But he'll help move you."

"Let the poor boy have a day off, Katie!"

"Nonsense, he'll love to do it." I doubted that, but knew better than to argue with her. The phone rang, helping me to find it, Susan's voicebarking at me the second I picked it up.

"What the fuck happened? Why is your goddamn cell phone off line, and why are you so easy to find in the telephone book?"

"Because I used to be a normal person. And my cell phone was stolen."

"Fuck, they got that, too?"

I blinked at the phone for a moment. "How did you know I've been robbed?"

"You're all over Saturday morning TV, darling."

"I am not! I'm nobody."

"You're the Oasis girl. You're a gossip mention. They're using a bad picture from the tabs, I wish we had a headshot to send around. You could not pay for this publicity, Em."

I glared at the phone. "I don't want to pay for this publicity. This sucks."

"Tell me that in a month when you get your first check."

"Right now, I'm a bit more concerned with moving into a secure apartment. So fuck my royalties."

She was quiet for a moment. "You're moving?"

"A friend's apartment is empty, and he's letting me use it."

"Good. Eric and I will be right over to help. He's working on getting you a new cell phone with the old number as we speak."

"I don't want I new cell phone." I want a new fucking life.

"You need it. You're going to be getting a lot of calls. I'll make Eric answer it for the next couple of days, how's that?"

I considered. "All right. I would appreciate the help moving..."

I could hear the smile in her voice. "We'll be there soon. Em, I'm sorry this had to happen to you. I'm sorry I said all that stuff about publicity."

"It's OK. I've been thinking of moving for a while anyway."

She laughed. "That's good, keep your chin high. You're going to come through this beautifully, you'll see."

Not if naked pictures of me and Alex make the Sunday papers tomorrow. But I didn't tell her that, hanging up, then handing the phone to Kate before getting into the shower.

The next several hours were on autopilot. Susan was right, the cell phone didn't stop ringing, and Matthew and Eric fought over who got to answer it. I needed an assistant today, it seemed.

I sat at the kitchen table sorting through my photos while Eric juggled three phones- the office's, my cell and my old line- handing them over when it was someone I might actually want to speak with. All the Durans called, and offered to help with moving, but my tiny apartment seemed crowded enough with seven people in it. Everyone associated with Oasis called me, and I hadto talk to each of them. The management, the publisher of the book, Liam, Noel. Noel was genuinely apologetic, and I was too tired to care.

"You know what you can do for me, Noel? You can fucking pay me."

"Excuse me?" he sounded a bit taken aback.

"You can wire all the money I'm making working my fucking ass off for you into my account, so that I can buy a new goddamn computer to replace the one that was fucking stolen from my home."

"How much?" Ah, I loved the business Noel.

"At least half of what I'm owed pre-royalties. And don't forget all those bonuses you promised me."

He laughed. "What were those again? Silence, and security..."

"Travel agent and combat pay. I think combat pay should be doubled."

"Definitely." His voice became serious. "Consider it done. Do you need anything else?"

"No. I'm moving today, I'll be in the studio tomorrow."

"We can push the deadline back."

"No," I insisted. "I want these fucking photos out of my life now. Have whoever is paying me call Susan, she'll deal with the details."

I was on the phone with Bayley, who'd found out via one of the Internet gossip pages, when one of the phones rang and Eric handed it to Susan. I tried not to laugh while she tried to get more money out of them.

Alex was lovely, sitting down every once in a while and giving me updates on their progress. It took a while to pack up all my things, and a few trips with only the two cars. I hadn't even seen my new home yet, but didn't really have the time to worry about that.

Finally, Alex sat across from me at the table, picking up a few prints to glance at them. "I think we're done."

I looked up from my sorting. Family, friends, London, Philadelphia, a bunch of the beach... I had a system, really. "Oh. I guess I can finish this there, then."

I looked around my empty apartment. Eric was still fielding phone calls, while Susan wrote 'junk' in large letters on a packed box near him. Oh, that will be helpful later. God, my friends had packed up my life in the last few hours. On one hand I was grateful, but on the other, I knew I'd never find anything again. I could hear voices and car doors opening outside, and Matthew and Kate were just on their way out the door with armloads of boxes.

It looked almost like it had when I first moved in, empty bookshelves, a clean desktop, the coffeetable bare of anything that had ever made it mine. "Did you get-"

"Your black bookshelves? Two carloads ago."

I smiled at him. "I'm glad you know what was mine."

He returned the smile with a nod. "So, do you think they stole any of your pictures?"

Our eyes met, and I knew immediately that he assumed what I had. "I didn't send you a bunch of naked photos of yourself at some point in the last year or so, did I?"

"Somehow, I think I would remember that." Our tone was joking, but his eyes were as serious as mine. We were quiet for a moment, considering one another.

"I'm so sorry, Alex. I should have had those in my studio."

"No. No, this is not your fault."

"It is. I should have realized that you are a famous person, and those pictures would be worth something."

"We didn't make those pictures because I'm famous. Or because you would become famous. They were taken by us for us, and I have never seen them in any other context."

I had to blink back tears. "I know," I whispered.

He took my hands in his. "It's OK. They're probably too lurid to be printed anywhere." I laughed a bit through my tears, making him smile. "It's going to be fine, Em. What's the worst that could happen?"

"They could be on the cover of every tabloid tomorrow morning."

"Nah. Never happen."

It would. I just knew it would. "Shouldn't you be trying to track down your girlfriend? She'd best hear this from you, I think."

He shook his head, still holding my hands. "When we're done here I'll find her. Hell, she's used to long periods of silence from me."

"That's not-"

As smile danced on his lips as he shook his head at me again. "Let me worry about my life right now, Emmie. You have enough going on in your own today."

"Is everyone going to the new flat? Because both the cars are filled, no room for passengers." I looked up at Matthew, taking my hands back from Alex.

"I have no idea. I'm not running this show."

Matthew turned, finding Susan, and together they arranged for cabs for the rest of us. Kate and Alex and I ended up in a cab together, and they patiently answered my "did you get..." questions. We pulled up to one of those soulless but gorgeous skyscrapers, a hotel, actually, with the top few floor converted into apartments.

"You're not serious."

Kate laughed. "It's such a pop star flat. You'll probably hate it. Jarvis does."

"Oh, great." I scowled at her, and she smirked back.

"Beggars can't be choosers. At least they've got a nice restaurant, you can order us all up dinner."

"God, is it dinner already? Is there a cash machine around, I'm completely broke."

"You can sign for dinner. Jarvis had a talk with the manager, they know you're taking over the place."

"How much is the fucking rent?"

She shrugged. "I honestly don't know."

Shaking my head, I got out of the cab, considering my new front door. The doorman approaching me to take the few stray boxes we were unloading was dressed far better than I was. Could I really afford this new life? Were they even going to let me in the lobby looking like this, in cut off jeans and my faded Duran T-shirt?

"Ms. Evesham, its good to finally see you. Should I have these sent up to the penthouse for you?"

Surely Jarvis had told them to expect me. "Yes, thank you. I’d appreciate that." He reached for my briefcase and I moved out of his way. "No, I’ll take this, thank you."

"Go on in, then, your boxes will be right up."

I thanked him again and Alex gave him a tip before throwing his arms around Kate and I and steering us towards the doors. "Nicely done, Em. It’s all about attitude."

I laughed. "How much do I owe you for that tip?"

"Don’t worry about it."

Kate leaned around Alex to grin wickedly at me. "You do owe me ten quid, dear." We both looked up at Alex and burst into giggles, making him whine "Whaaat?" at us as we walked into the lobby.

We weren't there three seconds before the manager swooped down upon me. "Ms. Evesham, welcome!" Was my face on a wanted poster or something? "We're glad to have you with us, if I could just speak to you for a moment?"

I caught Alex's eye, and he nodded. "I'll send Jarvis down."

"With my checkbook, if anyone knows where it is?"

"I packed it, I can find it."

"Thanks." I let myself be swept into the manager's office. He offered me tea, which I happily took, and helped me order dinner for my friends, which I knew was going to arrive on silver platters. OK, I could live here for a while. When Jarvis arrived, we signed the sublet papers, and I wrote them a check for rent while I had money in my account.

Finally, we were on our way up to my new home. "Thank you."

Jarvis stopped looking at which floor the elevator was on, instead turning to me with a slight smile. "You're welcome."

"No. Really. Thank you. Not only did you give me a place to live, you helped me pack up all my things and move them, and dealt with the sublet papers, everything. This has been incredibly kind of you. We've only spoken like twice in over a year, and I'm just staggered that you would do this for me."

The elevator doors opened and he motioned me inside, showing me how to use my key to get to the penthouse suite before continuing our conversation. "I wasn't using it, and you needed a safer place to live. Truth be told, I hate this fucking flat."

I laughed. "Oh, thanks."

Smiling, he wrapped one long arm around my shoulders. "Hey, its a place to live. No remarks about the black leather furniture."

"Oh, no, Jarvis, black leather furniture is irresistible! Is this your swinging bachelor pad?"

He rolled his eyes. "'Swinging' is hardly a word I'd use in conjunction with myself. No, no, I wrote lots of very sad songs about Kate in this flat."

The elevator doors opened to the most pretentiously rock star apartment I could have imagined. It was all black leather and chrome and track lighting. My sweet response about songs for Kate was lost in a fit of giggles, matched only by Kate's when she caught my eye. I stumbled over to her, punching her weakly in the arm. "You bitch! You knew this place was a monstrosity!"

She nodded at me, trying to be bitchy through her giggles. "I did."

"You and Jarvis take this one, I'll take yours."

"Get your own damn flat!"

I looked around, still giggling. "Oh, I will. Soon." After I finish the Oasis book and the Charms video, first thing on my list, new flat. This was so not me. I was into comfortable furniture and lots of books and photos on the walls. This was stark colors, a TV bigger than my old refrigerator taking up one wall, a huge grand piano near the windows. It was just one very large room, different areas sectioned off by half walls of glass brick. At least I wasn't sharing it with anyone, privacy was non-existent. Everything was controlled by remote- the lights, the stereo, even the blinds. Not the first place I would have chosen to move into, but right now I didn't care. It was a place for my stuff, and I felt safe here, with their round the clock security. After the tabloids lost interest in me, I'd move.

Susan and Eric left after dinner, letting Matthew take over phone duty. It still hadn't stopped ringing, my only saving grace was that I was now at a new number. Jarvis and Kate were bickering over the teakettle, and I found Alex sitting at the piano, playing quietly.

"That's lovely."

He looked up at me, a cigarette dangling off his lip, hair falling into his eyes, and smiled. "It's nothing." Damn, he was pretty.

I took the cigarette from him, tapping the dangerously long ash before taking a drag off of it myself. "No, it was lovely. You can come over and use the piano anytime."

"Thanks."

"Honestly, thank you. I don't know what I would have done today without you."

He shook his head, holding out a hand for his cigarette back. "You would have beenfine."

"Doubtful. I'd still be standing in my apartment in shock."

We smiled at one another for a moment as he took a drag off his cigarette, until Matthew called my name. "Your mum's on the phone."

"I should take that."

"Tell her I say hi."

Oh, yeah, that would freak her out. While I was on the phone, the others left, and when I hung up with my mother, I found Alex sprawled out on the leather sofa, flipping through TV channels. "Is that comfortable at all?"

"It's lovely." He started to sit up and I motioned him to stay.

"I've always been wary of leather furniture. Aren't you afraid you'll slide off?"

"I can barely move right now, so no."

I laughed, trying not to think about how tired I was myself. "Neither of us slept last night."

"Don't remind me. I'll leave once I get the energy to move."

"No rush. You deserve to rest."

"Hey, he's even got the video nasties! Look at the size of that guy's-"

"Alex!" I tried to swipe the remote from him, and he held it out of my reach, starting a wrestling match. I eventually won, but not before I was entangled with him on the couch. Our eyes met as I held the remote out his reach, and it would have been perfectly natural to kiss. Something we had done a million times, giggling and silly.

Instead, he laid down again, pulling me with him, so that I laid my head against his chest. It was how we'd always watched TV on the couch at his old apartment, and mine, wrapped around one another. Neither of us said a word, just accepted the comfort. I quickly switched the station from the porn flick, however.

"Hey, I was watching that..."

"You were not. And it's my big ass TV now, so I get to pick."

"Whatever," he yawned. I settled on a movie, putting the remote down, trying not to think too hard about the closeness of our bodies. It was just comfortable, right?

Carefully, he removed the elastic from my hair, combing it out with his fingers. "You have such lovely hair." His voice was quiet, and I just nodded, not trusting my voice. I was far too overtired to have Alex be sweet to me, but neither did I want to move.

Everytime I thought I was getting over him, he reappeared and reminded me how good it had been. It just wasn't fair. I didn't want to be in love with him, particularly because he was in love with someone else. The last thing Kate Charms needed was me monopolizing Alex today. I should have made him leave, to go and find her and apologize for the latest of their stupid fights.

A light snore startled me out of my guilty thoughts, and I looked up carefully. He didn't even stir. He'd always been able to sleep through anything, especially after all he'd done today. I slowly moved away from him, flicking off the TV, then looking around for a blanket. Someone had been nice enough to put all my bedding in the bedroom area, and I found the afghan that used to be draped over the back of my sofa. My mother had made it for me before I left for London. Alex had slept under this blanket more than once, I reflected as I tucked it around him. It didn't quite go with the black leather and chrome, however.

Sighing quietly, I looked around my new home. It was far too wide open to think of unpacking with Alex asleep here on the couch. Which remote controlled the lights? I should have been taking notes, because I could not figure out how to turn off the lights in the kitchen. Whatever. Better to sleep with some lights on in this new place, anyway.

Exhaustion hitting me, I contemplated the bed. It was a king size, and I didn't own any king size sheets. Were the sheets on it clean? Fuck it. Grabbing my own pillows, I peeled off my jeans and fell into it.

Two hours later, a nightmare startled me out of a restless sleep. The nightmare was more familiar than the walls that surrounded me when my eyes opened, and I sat up in a panic.

Alex sighed in his sleep, and I jumped, looking around to find him. By the time I realized where he was, I’d remembered why I was in the apartment. No wonder, really, that my old nightmare about the rape chose tonight to make an appearance. The robbery had been an invasion of my physical space, and at the end of it, nothing would ever be the same again.

I couldn’t think about that too much. I was far too tired to give in to melodrama. Stumbling into the kitchen, I paused by the couch to make sure Alex was still sleeping. I knew if he'd been in the bed with me, I'd be able to sleep. He always chased my demons away, whether he knew it or not. But he would not be here tomorrow, and the night after that, and the night after that. I was a big girl, and I could take care of my own life. I'd make myself some tea, and find the book I'd been reading, I'd be asleep soon enough.

Five minutes later, I was dialing Bayley's number. What time was it in Philadelphia? It was only 1:14 here. It felt so much later. 8:14 there. She would probably be out, or just on her way.

She answered on the second ring. "Hello, Emmie."

"What are you up to?" I asked, not questioning the fact that she knew it was me. We always did.

"Settling in for an evening with my dear friend, Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman."

"Oh, fine American TV on a Saturday night. What are you doing in?"

"Waiting for you to call." My breath caught in my throat, and I slid down the wall, settling onto the kitchen floor. Alex was not the only person in the world who knew me so well, just the only person in London. "I mean, really, we just barely talked this afternoon." Laughter loosened the knot in my throat. We'd been on the phone for 45 minutes, unable to actually end the conversation until Susan had insisted I speak to the book publisher. "And I knew you'd call to tell me precisely what Jarvis' flat looks like!"

Bayley loved Jarvis and his music, since long before they became famous. He liked her back, amused by her constant conversation and American attitude. It was she that had first suggested to me that perhaps my break-up with Alex wasn't entirely Jarvis' fault. "It's a fucking monstrosity, Bay. It's like one of those god awful apartments in bad 80s movies about obnoxiously rich pop stars."

"Do tell!"

I did, making her laugh with my descriptions. "And Alex is asleep on the-"

She interrupted me. "Alex? Alex is still there?"

"He fell asleep on the couch." I could feel her about to say something, and cut her off. "It's nothing. He worked hard all day, helping me move, and he was exhausted."

"He was with you all day? That's not nothing, Emmie."

I knew that. I just didn't want to think about it now. "He was just being nice."

"Em-"

I cut her off. "Please, Bay. I don't have the energy to analyze my every interaction with Alex right now. Perhaps later. Can I deal with just one crisis at a time?"

She laughed. "Alright. What were you going to tell me about the couch? Let me guess, its leather."

"Damn, you are good."

"I could write this stuff. The man is inside my head, of course he'd have a swinging bachelor pad. And then return to his beloved Katie."

"I gave him a good excuse to live with her again."

"Think they'll end up married or what?" We dissected their relationship for a good hour before I got maudlin.

"Bay, I hate it here. It's funny to look at, but I can't live here."

She didn't even blink at my sudden change of subject. "Sure you can. You're in your rock star phase."

"I don't want to be in a rock star phase. I want my normal life back. Maybe I should just pack it in and go back to Ohio."

Bayley laughed at me. Bitch. "Emma J, don't fall into one of your 'I'm so useless' moods on me. Ohio? O-fucking-hio? You are one of the hottest people in London right now. We spent our entire high school careers dreaming of just precisely this thing, and you're the one that made it. How can you even dream of giving that up?"

"It's not all we thought it was. I'm not living happily in a perfect home with John Taylor, for starters. I've got an ex who sorta looks like him asleep on my pretentious sofa instead." We both giggled at that, but I went on. "And the fucking tabloids are everywhere I turn."

"That's not permanent. They will leave you alone eventually, promise."

I just sighed, wiping away tears angrily. "When? They fucking trashed my old place, looking for something that wasn't there."

"That was certainly beyond the boundaries of good taste, but you're in a place with a great security system now. You're going to be, OK, Emmie."

"I don't feel very OK."

"Maybe because you haven't slept for two days." I half screamed at the unexpected deep voice near me, looking up to find Alex smiling down at me. "Is that Bayley?"

"How did you guess?"

He shrugged. "You sound more American when you talk to her. Hang up, go back to bed."

Bayley was yelling "Em! Is that Alex?" in my ear, and I moved the phone back towards my mouth. "Alex says I have to go to bed now."

"He's a smart man. Let me talk to him."

"Um..." What was she going to say to him? They used to talk all the time, in the midst of my hours long conversations with her, he'd take the line for a few minutes, usually to ask some embarrassing thing about me, or to tease her about her latest boyfriend.

"I'll be nice. Promise. I love you, Emmie, go to bed now."

"Alright. Love you, too." Shaking my head, I handed Alex the phone, who took it with some surprise.

"Bayley?" Whatever she said made him laugh. "Yes, its nice to hear your voice, as well." He gave me a shocked face and I giggled, standing up. "I'll tuck her in right now... well..." He burst into laughter.

"What? What did she say?" I demanded, but he waved me away.

"Yes, Bay. Yes... Good night." Still laughing, he clicked off the phone, turning back to me.

"What did she say?"

Shaking his head, he took my arm, steering me towards the bedroom. "She told me to see that you fall asleep."

"She said something else, I know her."

He pulled back the covers for me, motioning me into the bed. "Nothing important. Into bed, Ms. Evesham."

"You can have the bed, I'll take the couch."

"No. I'm fine on the couch. Bed."

With a sigh, I laid down, turning over onto my stomach, unable to find a comfortable position for the pillow. "I hate silk sheets."

He laughed, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "Bayley was right, you're being whiny and petulant now."

I scowled at him. "Like you were last night?"

"At least I had drink as an excuse."

"What, exhaustion doesn't count as an excuse for being whiny any longer?"

Smiling, he caressed my cheek lightly. "You have every right to be whiny right now, Emmie. Tell me how uncomfortable silk sheets are."

He took all the fun out of being difficult. Taking a deep breath, I tried to relax. "They're fine. It's... it's just been a really long day."

"That it has." He ran his fingers through my hair, knowing that always helped me to go to sleep.

"It'll be better in the morning."

"It will." We were quiet for a while, as I felt myself unwinding under his touch.

"Thank you, Alex. You were really wonderful today."

"I was glad to help."

"Let's not do it again soon."

He chuckled softly. "Good idea."

The next thing I was aware of was a muttered 'fuck,' and I opened my eyes to see Alex contemplating the closet, dressed in only a towel slung around his hips.

What a pleasant sight to wake up to, and for a moment it felt so right to just gaze at his body, his face made slightly sinister by the stubble on his chin, wet hair falling into his eyes... then everything came rushing back, and I remembered he wasn't mine any longer. "What's wrong?"

"I don't have anything to wear. My clothes from yesterday are disgusting, after all that physical labor you put me through." I laughed, and he turned to look at me, starting to say something, but didn't.

Recognizing that look all too well, I ran my fingers through the tangled mess of my hair, avoiding his eyes. That was the look that came right before he told me I was beautiful. He could not say that. He was not mine. "I'm sure I look a fright."

"Hardly."

I cut him off before he could say another word. "Don't. Just... don't." Taking a deep breath, I sat up, not meeting his eyes. "You can borrow something of mine. I'm sure I have something that fits you."

"You just want me to unpack all those damn boxes I packed yesterday, don't you?"

His tone was joking, and I relaxed, smiling at him. "I'm a terrible slave driver, I know."

"Always were."

I mock scowled at him, climbing out of bed. "Sorry." Finding a box marked 'clothes', I opened it. "God knows what the fashion mavens left me... here's a T-shirt that should fit." He took it from me as I continued to rummage through the box.

"I think the towel is a real fashion statement."

"I'm sure Kate Sutton will be showing it for spring. Hey, I think these shorts are actually yours."

He considered them carefully. "They might be, at that. When did you steal all my clothes?"

"You have a bunch of mine, I'm sure, if you didn't throw them away."

"I wouldn't do that."

I smiled at him, heading for the bathroom. "I know. Think you could order us some breakfast?"

"Sure. And I'll get the tabs."

Our eyes met, both of us more than a little nervous. I just nodded at him and retreated into the bathroom. My mind raced with all the things I needed to do today during my shower, trying not to think about Alex or what might possibly be in the tabloids this morning. Wrapped in my favorite comfortable robe, I found him standing at the door to the apartment, the groceries sitting there forgotten as he looked at the Daily Mail.

"Fuck."

He looked up at me, his eyes haunted. "I... we..." He gave up, just handing me the paper.

There he was, on the front cover, badly reproduced and with black bars over all the good bits, but, yes, that was Alex. My Alex. My photo of my Alex. The article was awful, bringing up all the rumors about me like they were true, making me sound like a sleazy pornographer for taking these pictures that were never, ever meant for anyone but Alex and myself. I tossed it across the room before I was half finished, hoping that would save me from either screaming or bursting into tears.

He looked up as my paper sailed by his head, and I realized that the one he was reading had a photo of both of us on the cover. I remembered taking it so clearly...

"What are you doing?"