"Enviable Sin"

Wednesday 24th December 2003

"Someone like Phil, he gets inside your head. But I wanted him there, I wanted him to be part of me. Well, you do when you think it's the One, when you think it's forever. But I didn't see it coming. I thought I knew better, I thought I knew him better - and now he's still inside my head. Only I don't want him there anymore."

"Then let him go."

"How?"

"Just let him go, Kate."

Sincere words brought on insincere and selfish action as his body bore down to cover hers, forcing deep and meaningless kisses to her neglected lips. She drank in his taste with frenzied touch, if only because she hadn't known it for so long, and she trusted it more than she trusted the betrayal of her own husband. And so, in her misery and uncertainty, to her past lover, she was lost.

~*~

Putting down my glass as Nana Moon shushes the pub, the sprig of mistletoe in her hand, I smile to myself. Even for all the panic of these last few days, the simplicity of Christmas can make me warm, like it woulda done when I was a kid. I'm not scared. I'm happy. I take Vicki's hand and scoot out of the booth, following the rest of our neighbours out onto the Square, drawn to the tranquil sound of the trumpets. Christmas is definitely in the air.

Me & Vicki huddle together over a carol sheet, our breath smoky as we join in the rendition of O Little Town Of Bethlehem, the collective tender and gentle. What is there to be scared of now? This is unity, this is family. Dad comes out of the pub, and for the first time, doesn't look angry, or panicked. Because he knows where we'll be, he knows we're safe. He comes through the crowd and wraps his arm around my back, pulling me close so he can peek at the carol sheet. Reminds me of when we used to stand around the Christmas tree in the Gardens singing carols when I was a little girl.

We hear the Christmas angels
The great, glad tidings tell
O, come to us, abide with us
Our Lord Emmanuel.

The temperature dips as we go softly through Silent Night, Away In A Manager & Once, In Royal David's City, but I don't notice for the closeness of my family. My only suffering is the way my lips dry out. I drop back on the balls of my feet, whispering in Vicki's ear; "Do you have any Vaseline darlin'?"

She frowns at me, confused until I press the pad of my thumb over the cushion of my lip.

"Aw, no, sorry, I left mine at the house."

"Oh well, I'll go back and grab it."

"What's this Princess?" Dad questions, looking round.

"I need some lip balm, Dad, gonna go back to the house."

Rolling his eyes in despair, without letting his arm drop from around me, he answers; "I'll walk back with you."

"Dad-" I sigh, half giggling. "-it's across the Square, with dozens of people around, I'll be absolutely fine. It'll take me all of three minutes." I stretch up and kiss his cheek, darting out of the crowd before he can stop me.

Alone however, I start to feel the chill, pulling my coat tighter around me as I bow my head and quicken my step towards the house.

Fumbling for my keys in my pocket, I let myself in. Toe-ing off my shoes, hating the way they're pinching around my toes, I rush up the stairs, gratefuly for the thickness of the carpet, diving into Vicki's room and rifling through her make-up bag on the side and finding no tell-tale little blue pot.

So I try the bathroom, very aware that my make-up makes its way halfway across the house. I pull back the bathroom mirror and crash around behind the bottles and lotions. Nothing.

Damn. But, tonight, I do have one other option.

"Kate?" I call out, stumbling onto the landing and not really knowing where I'm searching. 

But you stayed back too, didn't you Dennis? Wanting to make sure she's alright after the news of Phil's arrest in Portsmouth. She's lucky. That you care. Not long ago, I wouldn't have believed you had in it in you.

"Dennis? Dennis, do you know where Kate-?"

Without thinking, oh God, I should have done, I go through to your room. I don't know what I expected to find you doing if you were gonna be in here at all, but... oh!

Because you know where Kate is. You know full well. Because two seconds previous, she was underneath you. And your look of surprise, dies away into a look of indifference in a matters of seconds. Kate, the duvet pulled up to cover her obviousness nakedness, looks absolutely mortified.

"Sharon, I-"

"Oh God...." I fluster, feeling myself burn scarlet. "I'm sorry, I-"

I turn and bolt, my chest tight. I stumble down the last few stairs and fold forwards, hardly able to breathe. Why... Why can't I? Why do I feel so sick? Just the sight of... of you...

You're my brother, it shouldn't- oh God. But it does. She's my friend and you've been... touching her... like-

I start dry-coughing, terrified I'm going to retch. I drop down onto the stairs, spluttering. Like you touched me. Oh God, I'm supposed... it was never supposed to mean a thing. I wanted to forget it, it was wrong. But you... with her... and that look. You don't care.

I sit there, rocking back against my knees, just wishing I wouldn't shake so much. Oh Sharon, pull yourself together. It's the shock, the embarrassment. And anyway, they have a history don't they, Kate & Dennis? Maybe I was stupid to think it was ever resolved. Especially seeing as she's Phil Mitchell's wife. No love lost there, eh? Any chance to hurt him. And hey, what's wrong with rubbing it in my face a little along the way, after the way you made like I hurt you. You callous, selfish bastard, Dennis.

Hearing the pounding on the stairs, I leap up, breathing erratic as I press up against the wall, wishing I had the time to get away.

"Sharon?"

I lift my head level and try and force a smile as Kate creeps guiltily down the stairs, her clothes thrown on.

"Kate." I return.

"I'm really sorry..."

"What are you apologising for? Serves me right for going barging into his room!"

Kate winces, shaking her head slowly. "No. No, none of this was a good idea. I was upset-"

"Understandably."

"We were talking and... Sharon, I'm sorry. I feel like... like I've gone over your head."

I jolt, feeling sickened. "My head? I don't understand..."

"You're my friend and I swear I wasn't- What did you want?"

I frown, confused. 

"You were calling for me."

"Oh..." I flush again, embarrassed. "Been carolling with Dad and Vicki in the Square... lips are chapped. I was wondering if you had any Vaseline, can't find any in this whole damn house."

She bows her head, smiling awkwardly. She turns away silently and goes and gets her bag from the lounge, rattling it in her hands as she dips in and withdraws a little blue pot.

"It doesn't matter now."

"No, take it, keep it. I'll... uh, see you soon yeah?"

I smile awkwardly, curling my sweaty palm around the cool metal of the pot as she slinks off towards the door.

"And Dennis?"

Shuddering, Kate turns back from the door, hardly able to muster the weakest of smiles. She hunches her shoulders and surmises; "He'll get over himself."

And with that, she slides out the door. I stare at it for a few seconds, the bile of resentment rising in my throat. I like her, I really do but... how dare she? What kind of friend would...?

Oh shut up, Sharon. After all, you're the only one that know I'm thinking like this, aren't you Dennis? And you're probably loving it.

I rush back up the stairs and crash back through to your room, blasting; "What the Hell d'you think you're playing at?"

You swing round, pulling your top down over your chest. "Could ask you the same bloody question! Get out!"

"No! No, I want answers!"

"What to, darlin'?" you question, your hands pressed to your jutted hips. "The great question of life? Well, let's see..."

"Don't you dare give me all this! I don't buy it, I never have! What was Kate Mitchell doing in your bed?"

But you smirk, completely at ease with my fury it seems. "Tell me Sharon..." you almost coo, looking over at me with the shimmer of interest in your eyes. "...what d'you need, a diagram?"

"I told you-" I spit furiously, raising an accusing finger. "-quit being smart or you're really gonna get on the wrong side of me!"

You tilt your head comfortably to the side, the smirk never waivering. Softly, you tell me; "Y'know, you really shouldn't tease me like that."

And I balk, affronted and.... struggling to breathe again. I try and pull myself together, hissing; "If Phil found out you've been jumping his wife..."

"She ain't his wife." you laugh dismissively. 

I step a little stronger into the room, pointing out; "She's still wearing Phil's ring on her finger... get a kick outta that did ya?"

"So what if I did, hmmm? He ain't no bloody husband is he?"

"Oh what-" I scoff hatefully. "-so you thought you'd just step in and fill the breach did ya?"

Unfazed, you hunch your shoulders. "Why not? She weren't complaining."

I smile tightly as I move around the edge of your bed. "Maybe not. But d'you know what she said as she left here? She said "He'll get over himself." But will you, Dennis, ever?"

I see the flicker of irritation in your eyes, but credit to you darlin', you hide it well, and fast. "What the Hell are you going on about?"

"Well, what did you think this was all about huh?" I sink easily down on top your duvet, arranging my hands in my lap as I look up at you in interest. "You and Kate picking up where you left off?"

"Oh, do me a favour!" you scoff, looking away in disbelief for a moment before your fiery eyes find mine again. "It's about keeping her safe."

"Right yeah-" I retort testily. "-cos nowhere's safer than underneath you, eh?"

I look away, but I haven't done it fast enough. Because in the corner of your mouth sits a far more self satisfied smirk. You lean easily back against your wardrobe, hands stowed deep in your pockets, your gaze drifting lazily over me and never straying, putting me right on edge as you probe;

"You tell me."

And really Sharon, I'm interested. You're trying to seem indifferent, but something, somewhere darlin', has seriously affected you. Now, it's not for me to cast aspersions, but oh God, the look on your face, well, is it twisted that somewhere I'm excited by the idea of whatever you might choose to say now? I know what you're gonna do. You're gonna throw everything about Phil and the danger we're in back at me, but what do we have to care now? He's banged up in Portsmouth somewhere. The long and short of it is, I've slept with Kate.

And yeah, she's his wife but then, so you were you at one stage practically. And there's one thing I can say for the both of you right there, you were both completely wasted on the guy. And besides, it's not like Kate has to honour it all now is it eh? He was the one stupid enough to go with it all. Of course, you don't know that outright and you never will. But that don't seem to matter all that much. Your pettyness is gonna prove interesting enough on its own.

You look back at me, and you try to look angry and maybe even disgusted. After all, it's not something we've ever dared talk about, not with Daddy wandering around eh? It used to frustrate me, to some extent it still does, but humour me, my sheets are still warm after all. Let's talk about it now. Cos you know what? I'm pretty convinced that secretly that's what you're thinking. Even if you're gonna spout venom at me and still never be prepared to admit it to yourself.

"I thought she was here because... because she was frightened!" you snap. "I sat with her earlier and I... I watched her cry her eyes out! More fool me, eh?"

"Think about it, will ya? Put yourself in Kate's position.... s'not like you haven't been there."

You scowl, your eyes narrowed and already filled with venom, but oh Sharon, I'm past that. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me. Of course she's frightened. And you were too, remember? Even though you & Mitchell are supposed to have meant so much to each other once."

"Don't you dare mock me." you hiss, almost making it sound like you really hate me. "What right have you got to stand there and tell me Kate & I are interchangable? How dare you!"

"Oh get off your high horse love!" I splutter, despairing of you. "That weren't what I was saying."

"Oh well, that hardly matters does it, Dennis, what you were saying. No, cos Kate gets your own unique brand of tea and sympathy don't she?"

Drawing in a sharp breath as I look at you, I don't so much as blink. I just press my lips together as I mull it over. And you keep scowling at me, trying to put all your conviction into it and that's when I know. Certain of it.

"Well, why not? Might as well try and brighten up what would otherwise have been a bloody miserable Christmas."

You look away in disgust. Oh darlin', you're making it more and more obvious with every passing second y'know.

"In the only way you know how, yeah? Oh, I bet she's so grateful!"

And it's then, watching you get so frenzied over something that don't concern ya, that I have to say it. I can't help it.

"You oughta be careful Sharon..."

But you cut across me, already incensed. "Yeah well, look who's fucking talking!"

"What?" I question in return, nonplussed. "She's gone ain't she? You come barging in here, send her scarpering out into that. You do realise anything could happen to her out there don't you?"

"Oh shut up. You sound like Dad! Still, that'd suit you wouldn't it Dennis, nice big show of family unity against the Mitchells. Only now we know where Phil is, now there's no threat, it's all done ain't it? Or is that why she was here, huh, with you? Something else to play off against the Mitchells?"

Irritation flares. "Believe it or not Sharon, I had an opinion of Kate long before she got mixed up with the mess that is the Mitchells!"

"Oh, so that's what this is eh? Your regard. Christ, she musta been such a coup for you. Tell me, how did that work? You and Kate?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, you doing God knows what for Jack Dalton round here and her in Brighton?"

"Use your imagination." I suggest dryly.

"So you really are that empty huh? Nothing ever meaning anything beyond what you can get. Bloody Hell Dennis, when are you gonna grow up?"

I reel, straightening up, affronted and downright insulted if I'm honest. I'm practically choking on the words. Bloody Hell Sharon, you have some nerve. 

"I'm sorry... did you just tell me to grow up?"

"Nothing wrong with your hearing, I see. Just your principles I have issues with."

I scoff, burning to know, to have you tell me; "Seriously, what is your problem?"

"My problem?" you shriek angrily, giving me another one of those looks that should kill but barely touch the sides. "Where the Hell did you find your place in this ridiculous feud Dennis, answer me that!"

"Listen, if anything affects this family then I've got just as much right to-"

"Oh there we go! Rights! So does the fact that Phil's locked up halfway across the country on Christmas Eve give you the right to move in on his wife?"

"Oh, shut up making it sound like you care, Sharon, he don't deserve it!"

"Maybe not. But if he found out what you've done, he'd tear you apart and you know what, I wouldn't blame him!"

"Well good for you darlin'! Me, I couldn't give a toss! In fact, I'd like to see him try!"

"Don't tempt fate, Dennis." you warn me darkly. But honestly, it's all fuckin' laughable.

"What the Hell d'you mean "don't tempt fate"? The geezer's locked up for God's sake, he can't touch me!"

"No!" you spit, almost before you can stop yourself it seems, releasing your quick stream of venom. "Not like you touching Kate eh?"

Oh God, I need to laugh, I need to laugh so much. "Come again?" I splutter.

"I might not think much of Phil Mitchell right now Dennis, but how you could do that to a man so low he's lost everything?!"

"He deserves everything he gets!" I retort hotly.

But you look right at me, your wide eyes ablaze with warning as you tell me stiffly; "Yeah well, what goes around comes around don't it?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"You tell me." you demand, but I'm the one that's clueless here darlin', and look back at you blankly. You scoff, rolling your eyes as you look away, apparantly disgusted with my inability to go spilling my guts at your will. We've been there and done that remember? "My God Dennis, you must take me for such a fool."

"No, I don't." I mumble, in all honesty, a little hurt you believe that. I haven't wanted to be dishonest with ya. Almost everything I've done recently, I've done because I've been trying to shield you from everything. Can't you tell now that it was for the best?

"You liar. You tryin' to tell me a couple of dirty gropes two years back have made you noble enough to give a toss what happens to Kate? Don't make me laugh, it's not in ya!"

"And what would you know?" I snap, feeling the coil in the centre of my chest getting tighter and tighter.

Your burst of laughter is strained and cold. It don't sound right coming from your mouth darlin'. But then, I can take a wild guess as to what's gotten you like this, and maybe you'd give yourself the chance to admit it if you weren't so damn set on ranting at me.

"Me? Nothing! Cos you and Dad, oh you've just loved strolling round together like big men and fobbing me off like a child, haven't ya? But I'll tell ya something for nothing, Dennis, I'm not buying any of it. I might not know, but believe me, I can guess. I know my father and you... you're more like 'im everyday. It's not a good look for you. Something went down... with you two and Phil, the number of times I saw you all together like best friends when you thought I was tucked safely away like a good little girl... it don't fit, none of it does."

My mouth dries out as I listen and my hartbeat seemingly only exists in my ears, pounding away faster and faster. "What you getting at?" I press suspiciously.

"You're making up to Kate just so's you can convince yourself you're innocent."

"Innocent? Sharon, I was the one in the nick the night Phil got done, remember? I was nowhere near!"

"Oh, I remember, alright. And that's why I know play me. S'all very convienent, see? And I'm always the one here to give a damn aren't I, Dennis? Hanging round in bloody police stations, just to make sure you're OK, patching you up after a good kicking!" Your eyes flare dangerously then, your lips set thin. "And if Phil ever does decide to get hold of ya for pawing at his wife, Dennis, then not only will I be entirely unsurprised, no, this time, I'm leaving you to it!"

"Get over yourself." I scoff, hoping you don't see the way I'm shaking. It's only slight but my God, it's enough to unnerve me and that takes some soing. 

How come it's you that manages to get to me this way Sharon? How do you do it, why do you have to do it?

"The only way he's ever likely to find out is if you tell him! So off you go! Make his year, be that spiteful huh? See if he thanks you as much he will me, or Kate!" 

"He wouldn't ever hurt her, I know he wouldn't."

"Oh yeah, so you really know what prison does to a bloke's mind do ya? C'mon, think back to when the other one was in prison, y'know the brother that used to throw you about? Your husband, that one?!"

But you hardly blink, your spine stiff and seemingly straighter than straight as you sit there, your hands unmoved in your lap and your eyes cold.

"You had something to do with that robbery Dennis, and don't even think about feeding me your excuses cos I don't wanna be insulted like that! You and Dad were involved! I don't know how, I just know and if I ever find out then... well, I can only hope Kate made it all worthwhile!"

You leap up, apparantly ready to flounce out and cuddle up to your daddy, carolling away in the Square, but you know what? You ain't going. Not until it's said. I lurch for your arm as you stalk across the room and pull you back with a determined tug.

You glare at me, but it's not gonna have no effect this time darlin'.

"If I didn't know you better Sharon..."

I see the panic swell in your throat and retract, knowing the words were wrong.

"Oh what am I saying?" I sigh gently, releasing you just a little, but never completely. You have no right to throw your opinions about like this and then not stay to hear the truth. "I do know you better. That's it, isn't it? It's not Phil... it's not Den, not really. It's all Kate." 

You flinch and try and pull back with a jerk. No chance.

"What right have you got to be jealous of Kate, Sharon? You answer me that."

Your words hit me like a punch in the chest. Yes, that's exactly what it feels like. It's hard to breathe, it's even harder not to hate you for the pain it forces. Because the way you're looking at me, eyes so ablaze with challenge, daring me to come out with the words you seem so assured you'll come to hear, oh I'm going to kick out against you for all I'm worth. No way is any of this happening your way, Dennis.

So I rip my arm back with a more savage determination and hiss; "I'm not staying to listen to this."

And believe me, I'm not. I turn on my heel, determined to be gone from you and all these sickening words. I'll go back to Dad and snuggle up between him and Vicki and give O Come All Ye Faithful a whirl, leaving you here as pathetically lonely as you have ever been. If you go now, you might even catch up with Kate, and begging your way back into her bed would probably be a nice waste of the rest of your evening eh?

I fly down the stairs, grappling at the lock, well aware of the heavy sigh that left you and the commotion of you following. Why bother Dennis? You're never gonna get it out of me. I know so much better than that now.

Taking in a much needed lungful of air as I stand at the top of the stairwell, I slam the front door hurriedly shut behind myself and have just come off the kerb, daring only then to breathe even half steadily, thinking that I might make it back when I wince, hearing you pull back the front door back with an unconcerned crash.

But I don't hear your footsteps. Only you, calling my name calmly, like your summons alone will be enough to make me think turning back towards that house would be worthwhile.

"Sharon?"

I keep walking, completely disinterested. 

"Sharon!"

Oh God, shut up will you, you're gonna have half the Square turning round to look in a minute. Growling in irritation beneath my breath, I whirl round.

"What?"

But you smile, as if it was enough to have gotten my attention, and incline your head to let your gaze travel all the way down to my toes. Yes, my toes.

"Shoes." You call out, sounding highly amused at the opportunity.

And all at once, you infuriate me more. Because it's only as you point it out that I start to feel the chill of the frosty pavements against my bare toes. I think I coulda made it through a fair few more carols and not have cared to notice, so long as I'm away from you. But now I know, it'd be stupid to try wouldn't it?

Half wanting to scream and stamp my foot in frustration simultaneously, I manage to suppress it into a growl and stomp back up the stairwell, shoving deliberately past you. Even though I shiver gratefully as I move into the warmth of the hall, I'm determined to leave it as soon as I can. You step back too, closing the door and leaning against it but you do as you please Dennis, cos I'm telling you now, nothing's gonna stop me walking out again. Especially not you. 

I throw myself back against the stairs, having already snatched up my heels from the floor. As I force them onto a foot each, hardly caring for how much the savage effort seems to hurt, I spell it out to you for good measure. Hell, I think I coulda put my shoes on the wrong feet and I'd still be determined to get out of here.

"I mean it, Dennis..." I hiss out corasely. "I won't hear any of it."

But you don't move and you don't speak until I grip the banister and stand up on the stairs, ready to get gone and that unnerves me more than anything else you coulda done I reckon and the worse bit is, I don't know why. All I do know is that I can't quite make sense of the weakness in my stomach, the shallowness of my breathing.

"Why not?" you question softly, as if all you've really done is, I dunno, go on about the weather.

"Because..." I begin sharply, stepping down into the hall and trying to tell myself I move towards you without fear. "...unlike Kate, I'm not here just to pander to your ego, alright? Now for God's sake, get out my way."

"No."

And you say it that exact same level tone, just stood there against the door like the inconvenience suits you right now. You bastard.

"Get out of my way."

But you just smile, that infuriatingly calm and satisfied way you do when you know you can what, fob me off, trap me here?

Fine. You play this your own pathetic little way. But I bloody mean it - I'm getting out of here. I dart round you, tugging at the lock, but you know all you have to do is root your weight against the door and I'm helpless. And your expression is still as placid as ever, no hint of a smirk in the corner of your mouth as I might have expected. You just stand there, refusing to let me by. As determined to subject me to this as I am to escape you.

"Why won't you talk about it?"

I drop back reluctantly onto my heel then, grounded by the weight of your words. But what can I give you besides an honest answer? Besides, I'm too angry to offer anything else.

"Because the whole thing disgusts me, alright? Can I go now?"

"No." you say again, stiffer now and your whole body somehow so much more rigid to keep your weight back against the door and thereby keep me here. "I want to know what that means."

"Nothing." I hiss coldly, just hoping, praying that that holds you off. "It means nothing! That's all you can handle isn't it?"

You frown back at me, your eyes narrowed with what seems to be genuine confusion and maybe even, Dennis, really, is that pain?

"No? C'mon then. Give me whatever big speech you've prepared about all this feeling you've got bottled up for Kate. It could be true y'know and I'd still never buy a word of it!"

You bite at your lip and step heavily away from the door. And that would be my escape wouldn't it, right there. I glance at it, but you know what? You've done something. I don't know what and I'm sure you know which should make me wanna kick out against you even more and just bolt, but no. Because now, I'm feeling the needing to get this words out, to have you hurt just to hear them. Anything so long as you stop going at me. And it hardly matters that that realisation, I am suddenly as selfish as you. Because I just want you to hear it and then... leave me to be me, or at least some version of myself I can stand to recognise and exist as.

"You don't want to." you accuse me smoothly, barely even flinching.

I splutter sharply on my indignance. "My God, you flatter yourself. If you were really all that then why's Kate got up and gone eh?"

"Yeah, I really hope you can live with yourself on that one."

"You what?"

"You might not think we're... or she's in any immediate danger given that Phil's locked up, but in case you hadn't noticed he ain't the only Mitchell crawling round here and Sam and even Billy would love to rip into her and make her totally miserable!"

"Oh don't worry, I'm sure you'll be there to cheer her up when she needs it."

"Cheap shot, Sharon." you snap, glaring.

"Shut up will ya? What damage can Billy do to a woman like Kate?"

"Alright, maybe not Billy, but you tell me that Minty fuckin' Peterson's a puppy? C'mon! He might be slathering over Sam and and be trotting along at her heels, but he's rough, I know he is, and you know it too! And if Sam decides that bitchy comments and trying to pull Kate's business out from underneath her isn't enough anymore, you tell me he ain't gonna have a problem going after her with his fists, just like the Mitchell men?"

"Minty's different." I argue vehemently.

"Oh Sharon, you're so naive, it's embarrassing!"

I feel myself lurch before I even know what it means I'll do. So very nearly, I reach to strike you hard across the face. And even as I pull back, deciding against it at the last minute, my words could never be strong enough to convey how damn angry you can make me so quickly.

"Who the Hell are you to insult me?"

But it doesn't seem to affect you at all. No, you roll your eyes easily, muttering; "That's what I'm trying to find out! The guys you choose Sharon, tell me, what's with that? Every single one, it's like you took it upon yourself to see things that were never there. You tell yourself it's all good, and really it's a mess! Some of us have got the sense to get mixed up in that!"

"I am not naive! Some of us just aren't as weak as Kate!"

You smirk, straightening up with interest. I flinch. Oh no Dennis, no. It's not like that. It's not.

"What makes you think Kate's weak?" you question, tone softened by amusement, which just gets my back up even more.

"She knows you, doesn't she? She knows every dirty little thing about you working for the Firm, she knew how bad you were for sense, reason and still... still she had you back! She's weak alright, and you had to make sure you were here, playing on that weakness! You make me sick, Dennis. Is that the only way you know now?"

 But I bite quickly at my lip just in time to stop myself blurting more than I mean to say. Because I am not prepared to have this conversation. I hate you for so much as stirring up this burning rage inside of me. It's not supposed to exist there, it's not supposed to mean anything is it? I just.... I wanted to forget. But seeing you... with her... it's all I can do to remember, and somehow... I feel so wronged. But part of me believes you know that, and just like you fed off Kate's misery over the mess of her marriage, you're feeding too off the twisted assumption that this is indeed the way I feel.

I can feel tears burning behind my eyes, but my God, this is not going to happen like this. It is not going to happen at all. Enough of this! Gasping in shallow breaths, I turn around, my hands shaking too much to grasp at the lock and turn it. But somehow, I manage it, and the slither of the cool air that breezes through the crack in the door is comforting. I want to breathe it, I want to be out there where it is safe and open.

But I feel you behind me, jumping in surprise as you lean over me and press your weight through your raised arm to force the door shut. The impact of it makes me stop breathing for a moment.

"Dennis, I... I have to go."

"You mean you have to run away."

"I only came back for lip balm - Dad'll be having a fit."

I detest how it appears that I'm whimpering, that I'm frightened of you. I don't wanna sound weak, I wanna be stronger than this.

"You're not going."

"Please.... you know what he's like, he's gonna come looking for me, he watched me go!"

"Into your own house. Where's safer than that? Mind, this is Den, so you're probably right. He'll turn up and ruin it, just like last time!"

"What's there to ruin?" I demand, a little desperately, having no clue as to what's going on in your head, and maybe too confused to try and make sense of it. "I don't understand what this is, I don't understand what you want!"

I wish I could look away. But I can't. Because in the miserable gleam of your eyes is something I haven't seen, in a way that frightens me so much since... since I was lying beside you. Sincerity.

"Yes you do. You know you do, I know you do. And if you'll just admit it-"

"No." I balk determinedly, straightening up. "Why the Hell would I give you that rise after what you've just done? That is not who we are! If it was, if it ever could be then... it wouldn't be happening like this would it? None of it would be about anyone besides me. So screw all that conviction you gave me, Dennis. No doubt it'll come as easy as you screwing Kate."

You try and turn around to pull at the door again and in a split second, I can tell in the way you're holding yourself, you're determined to get away this time, whatever it takes. But that's exactly the thing, Sharon, don't you know that? You're the one that bolted from me, never even stopping to take in the idea that I might have meant what I said. But I did. And when you reacted like that, you took eith you everything I've ever had, and you didn't even seem to notice how it sucked the life from me, being left with nothing.

And I'm reading you now darlin', and suddenly, all of that seems pointless because.... because you're fighting something entirely different now. I always hoped you would. You swore you wouldn't. But you are. And you're not running again just to leave me with nothing for so much longer. I wanna hear the words come from your mouth, I have to. 

So as you reach for the door, I drop my arm quickly from against it and grab you instead. The door slams shut with the force I hold you against it. I wish I knew how I felt as I look at you. 

Because I'm angry Sharon. You don't know what any of this is about really, do you? If you digged enough, then yeah, I think you're smart enough to get there, and Kate.... she is someone I really did care about, perhaps more now that I can see the mess she's made of herself entertaining the idea of coming out of a job she loved and was good at to marry a Mitchell. Seeing her makes me wonder what it must have been like for you... with either of them. It makes me feel sick. Both of you are so much better and yet...

Still, still you can do this to me. Because even though my own stupid honesty allowed you the chance to break me without thought or care, it's you. And if the idea of Kate had left you completely unaffected, I could have gone on fine. I could. Because at least I'm sure of how Kate operates. And with you, I'm not even sure I can say it intrigues me anymore. Because it hurts. I never knew what that was like to that night Sharon, but it does. And the idea that you don't care...

Your eyes are these huge glittering pools and I see it again. Exactly what was there that night. You're scared. Why? Why of me, what have I done? Nothing. Unless, to you, Kate really was something, something to feel threatened by, jealous of. I never thought you would Sharon, I thought you were getting by pretending nothing ever happened, keeping your distances from me all the time until everything kicked off with the Mitchells.

But right now, you look exactly as you did when you stopped me moving past you that night. Except now, I'm the one reaching for you out of nothing more than the frustration of it.

Your breathing sounds worryingly shallow gasp for gasp. Your shoulder jerks a little, like you'd try and twist me away and run if you could. But you're not moving. I'm sick skirtng round this, looking over at you, never looking back at me and wondering if, when it all comes down to it, I imagined simply because you've.... driven me mad. So if you hate this Sharon, the idea that I've had another woman, a friend right in front of you, then you need to tell me now, you will tell me now.

"Let me go..."

"No." I repeat, bluntly.

And in the next second, your eyes are glassy with desperate tears. "I don't want to do this."

"Well you have to, you know that?"

"Why?" you whimper, pleading. "Why can't I just go?"

"Because I'm sick of this. I'm sick of going round it."

You turn your head away against the door, scoffing. "Oh, look to me like you got round it alright, Dennis."

"This is what I mean. Why are you being like this? Why d'you care if...?"

"I don't!" you insist, but your voice is too strained and high and it's gonna shatter at any given moment. "I don't! I just..."

"What? You just what? Cos I've been here, these last three months, and you... you haven't even noticed."

"No, that's not true. I just... I thought... with Dad and everything, he's what you really want. All... All that, you were just confused."

I laugh coldly, hating you for making everything you've made me feel for you just by being around, being you, and then turning it into nothing when you were there too to make it something, anything that night.

"Whereas it's so straight in your head right?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then what are you saying?"

I can't keep the note of irritation from my voice and by the look on your face, it stings a little, but at the moment, it's not in me to feel guilty.

You bite hard at your lip, staring at the floor for a second. I can see words you're struggling to say swelling in your throat as your gaze comes to mine again. "I don't know..."

I sigh heavily. Is it always going to be like this?

But it appears I was presumptious because you're not done, eyes brimming with tears, sounding choked against your will as you whimper; "I don't know why you had to do it...."

And then, you throw me completely. My grip around you becomes lax all on its own and you could easily turn away from me now and go. But you're heavy like lead. Just there. Miserable.

"There isn't a why." I point out thickly. "I just did."

"Well, that isn't good enough."

I flinch, narrowing my eyes in confusion.

"You said... you said you care about her. Was that enough, was that it?"

"What's it matter?"

"Oh it matters!" you insist passionately, the tip of your tongue flickering nervously out to wet your lips. "Because if you can't tell me then... why should I believe anything you told me was true?"

Ouch. That stung. And yet, the way you're talking is enough to make me realise you're not going to care so I mustn't let you know. I'll act the way you expect. I've always done that, for everyone. Because to be myself is hopeless and never, ever enough.

"You don't have to. Words are words. I just... I thought you listened."

"I heard you, that was all. And I... I shouldn't have- oh God Dennis, please just let me go."

"Why?" I press with innocent interest, raising my hands to prove I'm not the one stopping you from going now. "If we're just gonna forget it, then why do you have to be so scared? I haven't changed. I'm still me."

"Well maybe I never really knew who you were, eh?"

"What kind of excuse is that?" I demand in a fit of disgust.

You shudder. "It wasn't just words, Dennis and you know it. That night... none of it, none of it was-"

"So why does this matter, Sharon? Why does Kate matter so much to you? And don't lie to me, cos I'm sick of that too!"

Your eyes flare with indignance and yeah, alright, maybe you have that right, but you've been killing me since the second I followed you down into the club that night. And you haven't even cared to notice. And I really didn't believe you could be that cold.

"Yeah, so why don't you trade me? Tell me what you and Dad have got to do with Phil and-"

I turn my head to the side, throwing over a suspicious look through narrowed eyes that silences you. "Tell me what? Everything you've needed no words to tell me since it happened? That don't sound all that fair to me darlin'."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Admit it. Not to me, not if you don't want, but for God's sake, do yourself a favour, because if you can't get round it like you've had us both so convinced you can then-"

"It was Kate. Why did it have to be her? Some mindless little whore I coulda coped with, but... Kate? She's my friend. She's... your ex. But maybe neither of ya really get that concept eh? You always gonna be picking up where you left off with her?"

This frenzy comes up a whirl. I can't take my eyes from you, completely absorbed in what seems to be panic and... upset.

I shake my head gently. "It's not like that anymore."

"So what is it like? C'mon Dennis, I need to know because I'm not prepared to keep harking back to this if I have no place."

"Place?"

At my soft questioning, more tears fill your eyes as you bite even more determinedly into your lip. "Why d'you have to do this? I hate it! I hate that I had to see you with her, I hate that you didn't care and I hate that you've made me so cheap!"

You bow your head and sniffle loudly. I seem to go heavy and shuffle carefully forward, reaching out to case your shoulders, worrying momentarily about how you will react to my touch. You do shiver, but you don't force me away, which would be something I suppose if you weren't... well, I don't know do I?

"I don't understand."

"Yes you do." you spit tearfully, levelling your gaze. "You're playing me for this. C'mon, tell me it didn't cross your mind even for one second that I might be- "Oh I know, let's jump into bed with Kate, see if that makes Sharon anymore forthcoming"!"

"That's ridiculous."

"Is it? So if I offered it up now, you'd turn me down would ya?"

"I wouldn't need to. You've got more self respect than that."

"Self respect?" you echo, with a cold dismissive drawl of a laugh. "Yeah right, cos that's so me isn't it? Sharon Watts, spent ten years throwing herself around the Mitchell brothers, so yeah, why not give her brother a whirl while she's at it, eh?" You look at me for a second, eyebrow arched inquisitively. "Do you believe I always wanted a baby brother now? Hmmm? Now that you've got me here, feeling this sick just at the idea that you and her have.... my God Dennis, how many have their been? Since..."

My throat dries out as I wait for you to say it. But you don't. So I will.

"Since you?"

And though you look away, pained, I see the lump slide down your throat and you nod jerkily almost against your will.

"And if I told you, about all the faceless nameless nobodies, women that mean nothing.... are you really gonna be anymore inclined to realise it even happened?"

"I... don't know." you choke, pressurised, and looking a little wounded. "Were you like that with her?"

I frown.

"Did you ever tell Kate you loved her? Dennis?"

"No." I answer immediately. "No I didn't and I never woulda done."

"What so you're falling into bed with her just for the fun of it? When her marriage has broken down, when she's hit the bottom?"

"No! Look, Kate holds her own-"

"But you just wanted to give her a little pick-me-up for old time's sake?"

"There are no "old times!" She's just-"

"Just there. Just like I was." 

Do you really expect me to buy your look of indignance? You have no right and you're only gonna serve to rile me more than you'll be able to handle in the end.

"It wasn't like that." you tell me darkly. "You know that."

"Do I? How?"

"Because you stopped me! D'you know how much that haunts me? I spilled my guts that night, I told you everything. And I'd have sooner you laughed in my face, because what you did do was bloody cruel. You weren't there, you weren't there at all. You just let me lay it all out and then you trampled all over it."

I scoff coldly, snapping; "You got what you wanted di'n't ya?"

"Oh... yeah. Cos I really wanted you to spend the three months afterwards treating me like I was contagious! They're feelings Sharon, not diseases."

"Course. Cos you feel so much that you don't have to think anything of jumping into bed with Kate, hmmm?"

"Where the Hell d'you get your nerve from? You threw me back. What am I supposed to do? Sit tight for the years it takes ya to realise it happened for a reason? Why I should live like that? You rejected me, Sharon and I put everything down on the line, how can you be that cruel and then come in here, fired up like Kate's treading on your toes?"

"She's not. But it makes you worthless, makes everything you said mean nothing?"

"So what?" you press, more agitated now. "It hasn't meant anything since has it? Somehow, you got up and it was gone. How'd you do that because... really, you've never left my head and I'm going mad. How's it going for you?"

Tears prick uncomfortably in my eyes. I try and keep my gaze level as I look back at you, knowing that to break your gaze will make me appear weak and I'm not having that. But why is it so hard to look at you, Dennis, why does it hurt? I've gone completely heavy, lean like stone back against the front door.

"It... It was never supposed to happen."

"Then you tell me why, Sharon? All you had to do was say no and I'd have left off. And if that's how you feel, if it really is, then please tell me why any of this matters to you, cos I keep asking and I'm not getting an answer!"

"Well, what do you want me to say?" I demand tearfully.

"What do I want you to say?" you echo in tortured disgust. "My God... you never did listen did ya? Just forget it."

"Yeah." I hiss hatefully, nodding jerkily. "Cos it really is that easy, i'n't it eh? You... all over her, not even trying to hide it... you're proud of yourself! And alright, fine - I feel cheated! See? I've said it - happy now?"

But your mouth hangs a little agape, stunned. Relieved of the weight of such a needed outburst, my chest settles and my breathing is finally even. But what am I to do now? I never wanted to say the words, I was supposed to keep them back and defy you all the way. That's what we're good at, isn't it?

Except, that isn't only it is it? Damn you for making me face any of this Dennis, I thought I was doing fine, ignorance was bliss and all that.

"You... You really feel like that?"

"Don't bother to sound surprised." I spit, entirely unimpressed. "That's what you've been waiting for isn't it?"

You chew at your lip. "I didn't think you even noticed me anymore."

"Not like that, no. But when it's playing out in front of you... what are you expecting from me, Dennis?"

"The truth." you confess thickly, still looking a little dumbfounded. "And if that's it then-"

"It is." I admit shakily. "So can I go now? Will... Will you leave me be?"

Slowly, you nod and step closer, pressed hard against me. And you might expect me to recoil, but I can't. Something happens. It might be the mess of emotion you've forced out of me, it might be your sincerity, the way you seem frightened of the words I thought you wanted to hear, and I can't stop myself. I wish I could, I could save so much, but it's you. You were so determined to get under my skin and I've been too determined to prove you never managed it. But now you know, now we both do and there's no denying it anymore. You're there. It's as though I've been removed from all control as my mouth softly meets yours, admitting defeat in the one sensuous connection.

You drop back, still heavy and stunned, your lips budded and your breath held and strained. Panic rises in my tight chest, but I hold my tongue, already decided I can't bear to be the one that brings your rejection forward. So I keep silent and instead, wait for your words.

"I was gonna open the door..." you murmur softly.

Embarrassment writhes on the floor of my stomach, flames of heating burning through my face. I could just break and run now, save myself any further shame and yet, it's like the carefully constructed dams are all broken. I can't take my gaze from yours because... what would I do otherwise?

So I let the sickeningly tight feeling in my gut take control and question; "Do you want to?"

Your eyes shimmer hopefully for a second, but as the corners of your lips fall down into a confused sadness I guess I musta imagined it. You give me an odd look and just look at me for several silent and agonising moments. And then you shake your head, and oh, I can have just half a breath, the other half stolen from being as your mouth covers mine again. Your lips work mine slowly, softly, the tip of your tongue stroking across to encourage them to part. I pull you closer, loving the feel of your arms enveloping me, pulling me round from the door. My arms raise instinctively to the same level, clinging onto you, drawn into the depth and ferocity and sheer depth of your kiss. And the bliss of it is, there's not a single thought in my head.

I don't think there can have been that first night either. Maybe that's your talent, maybe that's why everybody wants you. You lose all control of your senses and everything feels this good. And I'm the only one with the advantage, because you say it's me you want too. Do you mean that Dennis, can you? 

You've taken too much to fight. I give in.

And yet, as I edge across the hall, pulling you gently with me, never daring to lessen our connection now that I have you here this close again, my mind's no longer blank. Because even in your intoxicating proximity, there's one thought niggling, ready to scream out and shatter it all. And believe me, I'm trying to keep it back, kissing you harder, deeper, trying to make believe that it can all be OK. I know this is not the way, but it just isn't in me to care. You taste too sweet. And for a moment, I'm lost trying to consider what might have had me running away from you the first time.

I was half-mad I suppose. You've taken everything, but momentarily, I trust you with it. My breath, my sense, my desire. Softly, I draw back from the attention of your lips, no longer able to ignore the sickening writhe of nerves on the floor of my stomach. I press my hands gently into your shoulders, preparing an anxious breath to get the words out. But what words? What can possibly vocalise this?

So I let the urge go with a soft smile and meet your lips again. Why for you is there no hesitation/ Does the fierceness of your kiss mean to tell me that for all the months I've forced this back, all the time you've been free to brood and sleep with whoever you choose; really, you'v been sat back waiting for me, waiting to wear me down? I should hate you for this. I do. Because you... you are the one that makes me weak enough that while I should scream and shout, all I can do is kiss you. And it shouldn't be this way.

I should be clinging to my every reason to deny you in the first place, because they are what will save me. But if I'm past that too...? Oh God, let's be honest, this'll never go anywhere beyond non-senscial jealousy will it? And yet, I can't stop myself, clawing into the material of your top as you inch up onto the next step, somehow figuring that this is OK.

But, I recognise with a shuddery breath of unease that maybe, maybe it isn't. I stand close against you, my knees weak, you seem to think it's OK to touch, your fingertips treading a soft path across the small of my back. And I wonder, does every woman know your touch like this? Do we all get the same treatment, the same lines, sincere in sound and never in practice?

"What?" you whisper momentarily in confusion, your warm breath caressing the slope of my neck and the side of my face.

Nibbling at my lip, I turn back to look you full in the face, and my stomach drops. What you have done, Dennis? What is it about you... being this close which means I know nothing alone? I was so much stronger than this before I knew you, before I knew what you were holding back.

Mesmerised, I press my shaking hand to your cheek, your skin perfectly warm and soft. I trace the outline of your lips tenderly, wondering if I can really dare to believe in the lies that will caress my lips when I stretch up to kiss you again. And I will. I will because that's how weak you've made me. I could have let it go, I could have pretended I don't remember how good you felt and we coulda lived something like a normal life. But that just seems too easy for you.

"I... I don't know." I murmur in reply, feeling foolish and knowing any degree of sense is lost until I know your taste again.

As I press against you, stretching up as we both knew I would, your arms tighten around and before I am aware of moving, I can feel the wall pressing uncomfortably into the ridges of my spine. But I don't care, letting only thoughts of you and our proximity fill my head. Your hands start to roam, like you couldn't bear to miss an inch. And I'm on fire. How d'you manage to affect me like this? Why does it have to be you?

I moan softly into your mouth and you see that as an invitation to move in deeper, your tongie teasing mine like I'll be your last. But you... you'll never have a last. However many times I give in to everything you have forced me to feel, I'll still just be a number on a very long list, won't I? Because this... it tells me you still want me. For all my coldness, my harsh words, you still want me. But you could want anybody. You did. I don't mean anything to you. I shouldn't. But it's all that I want to mean something.

So I let it all go, so completely absorbed in you, the perfect taste a thousand lips must know. I'll go wherever you lead me. Regrets are already trying to surface, but... I don't care.

But I'm snapped back to sense as the lock rattles. We leap apart like we're burnt. But whereas I can hardly breathe, let alone keep it level, you're just still. You might not even be breathing anymore for all I know, but you seem completely unaffected, even if neither of us can tear our gazes away from the door.

Dad's breath is still smoky on the air even as he pushes at the door and enters the warmth of the hall, Vicki traipsing in with a shiver behind him. Her whole face seems to light up as she looks up and sees us both stood there, a step apart now, I dropped so heavily down.

"Oh there you are."

I smile weakly, trying to keep my eyes cast down and hoping the guilt don't translate on my face as I hunch my shoulders in defeat and declare; "Yep. Here I am."

"You had us worried, Princess."

"Yeah." I whisper hoarsely, nodding. "I thought I might have done."

"Can't take even you this long to find lip balm can it, Sharon?" Vicki giggles.

"Well, uh, I was just.... gonna go upstairs and check the medicine cabinet!"

"What?" our little sister persists, suppressing a snigger as she leans against the banister. "And you needed Dennis to show you the way to the bathroom?"

It'd be an understatement to say then that I'm mortified. I feel like I've been worked out maybe and you, you're just stood there like nothing matters, that it's all innocent and good and you know...

But no-one really seems to notice. Vicki's grinning, so obviously teasing, but even that hardly allows the unbearable tightness in my chest to lessen. Dad sighs, stepping forward and placing his hand on her arm. "Leave off darlin'." he tells her tiredly. 

She just grins again, shaking her head in disbelief as she turns and disappears into the kitchen, flicking at the switch of the kettle.

"Alright you two-" he says in that same level tone, turning in his heel and facing the two of us with his hands perched on his hips. "-what's going on?"

I smile nervously. I've always had this feeling my dad can see right through me, so there's no use in trying to lie. It's better to say nothing because oh, what could I say? What could I possibly say to explain the truth, the every emotion you've forced inside me.

But you don't seem to be suffering with the same battle of conscience. Crisp and steady, you raise your argument from behind me, making me flinch.

"Why's anything got to be going on?"

"Cos she's-" Dad answers pointedly, looking quite deliberately at me. "-got a face on her like she's been caught with her hand in the cookie jar."

You laugh then, calm and easy, not saying a word. But then you don't need them for me to know what you mean. I think you're pleased with yourself y'know, making me suffer at least in part for the way you claim to have toiled with your apparant emotions since that night.

But Dad's uninterested by it all, shrugging it off and instead demanding; "And why'd we meet Kate halfway across the Square babbling about going home? Thought you both understood that that ain't safe right now. Specially you, Dennis."

And the percing look he gives you unnerves me for God's sake. But I see with the glance I bravely sneak across my shoulder towards you that it's doing nothing to you. Your expression is like steel, and you just blink, stating stiffly; "She makes her own choices, Den."

Yeah, I think we all knew that.

Dad sighs again, sounding rather defeated. "Alright. Well, you just keep your eye on her alright? C'mon Princess, you come with us."

"Why?" I frown, confused.

"Vicki's snaffled the carol sheets. Oh c'mon misery guts, this could be the only thing you and your old dad get to do together this Christmas, you know that?"

"I don't know Dad..." I muse, nibbling at my lip again as I try to hide the obviousness of the fact I'm looking back at you, however fleetingly. "I think I might stay..."

Unsure whether I imagined it or not, I'm certain I see a flicker of a smile in the corner of your mouth, but in panic that Dad will read something into it all, I look away quickly.

"Suit yourself. What about you, Dennis? You too good to offer your dulcite tones to the spirit of Christmas?"

"You what?" you laugh.

Dad rolls his eyes. "I give up with the both of ya. You coming or not?"

"No thanks Den, I'll hang back too. Sure you & Vicki can do the family proud without us!"

"Ha ha, very funny." Dad throws back dryly, pulling a face before leaning around the banister and calling in the direction of the kitchen; "Vicki?"

"Oh Dad! The kettle just boiled!"

"I'll buy you a hot chocolate from the caff on the way back over! Now c'mon before your gran comes tearing after us will ya?"

Stomping pointedly for the first few steps, Vicki comes back into the hall, grinning across at us as she passes. "Later guys yeah?"

"Yeah, Vicks... enjoy it if you can right?"

But as she draws the door shut after herself with a determined snap, you draw in a deep, sombre breath, thereby silenced. Just waiting. And it feels like the load's all on me. I go rigid as you drop down from behind me, making the whole surface of the step shudder beneath my feet. I turn and press up against the wall for my own stability. But as I catch your eye, my breath gets lodged in my throat.

And yet, your smile seems so easy against those perfect lips. You think nothing of coming closer, of touching me as you were. And oh, I'm burning, but there's something different amongst the desire. Something that was never going to leave the two of us alone. So even though I cannot stop your lips coming hard against mine, fitting so well and drinking away the softness as if your thirst will never end, I know, oh I know like I always did that this can't go on.

Because even though I clamour to touch you, feverish for you like I was that first time, without any sense or reason to put to the desire, what's gonna become of it?

So I pull back, whispering my protests desperately, breathless enough to wish they didn't even have to be born. But they do. I think we both know that.

"Stop... please Dennis, just stop..."

"Why?"

"It's madness." I argue sadly. "That's all this is."

"No." you answer, suspicion clouding your eyes even as you look at me. "No... we... you want this. I know you do."

"And? Where's it get me huh? I follow you up these stairs, and where d'we go, hmmm? I'm not about to fall into a bed where the sheets are still warm. I gave up being that cheap and easy a long time ago. I won't do this. No way. Not when all I'm gonna see is Kate. No."

I twist my shoulder, trying to force you back to allow me the room to slip down the stairs. But as I move forward, you reach out and jerk my hand back savagely. And though you glare at me, anger and maybe even pain alive in your eyes, it takes you several moments before you can say anything. And even when you manage that, your voice sways dangerously with the threat of emotion.

"Are you always gonna do this to me?"

I swallow down the upsurge of guilt through nothing but indignance as I pull away. "I don't know. I... gave you the truth Dennis, OK? If you need anymore tonight, then I suggest you call on someone else. Kate maybe, you know where she is."

As I pull on my coat from the banister, you scoff in disgust. Do you have the right to be disgusted? You had no qualms about leading her up into your bed, and now what, I'm supposed to take her place? No. I won't be used like that. That's never the way things are supposed to have worked between us. So yeah, I have feelings I can't understand, that I can't help but act on, but still, I never want to mean so little.

I turn away to the door, my shivering hand curled around the lock.

"What about us, Sharon?"

I shiver as I consider it momentarily. All the possibilities, and then, the cold, cold reality.

"That doesn't exist, Dennis. It's always just been something you want. Time to let it go, yeah?" I brave one last glance back in your direction as I twist the lock and open the door enough to slide out into the cold, to escape. "Just let it go."  

Just like that, you rush off into the night. The frustration rises in my tight chest and I swing to my right, ramming my fist angrily into the wall, irritated even further by the idea that my grazed knuckles have made no impact on the surface of the wall. I tilt my head back, vision swimming as I stare up at the ceiling, trying to force myself to be level headed and to breathe. But the mechanics just ain't coming. Pushing my fists down into my pockets, I pound down the stairs, almost ripping the door from its hinges, hardly caring for the fierce impact with which it slams after me. 

I'm craning desperately across the dark, dreary Square, trying to search out your exit path. And yet, the first recognisable person is Den. And something in my stomach twists. Just the sight of him does something unsavoury to me. Everything that stands wrong for me tonight is my fault I know. But only because it goes to whether or not I should have said anything about the madness you place me in through no fault of your own... don't you see you woulda killed me if I hadn't? And if... oh God, I've never stopped thinking that if he hadn't chosen that night to resurface then maybe, maybe it could all have been different and maybe it wouldn't have taken this to get you to give me a second glance.

Cos now, I know you meant to. And that is gonna drive me mad all over again if you don't give me the chance to find out why, to live it.

And I know that you're running scared and when you do that all you've got is the all consuming need to be protected. I laid myself on the line, wanting to be the one you'd run to, and still, you run to Daddy. So in finding him, I know I'm gonna have found you, knitted into the swaying circle of carollers, like you can slide so easily, so faultlessly back into the facade you have built around yourself just to keep me out.

But I go across the Square anyway, weaving through the crowds and sidling up to Vicki. She squeals when she sees me and snuggles into my side. I wrap my arms round her waist, rocking back on the balls of my feet as I hold her. She's warm, she's open... why can't you be like this? I would give everything to hold you. How the Hell can you resent me going to Kate, to anybody when you won't let me close?

"You 'kay?" Vicki murmurs contently, pushing the edge of her carol sheet into my hand. She half rests her head aginst my chest, seemingly balancing the cup of hot chocolate Den promised her for the walk over in her other hand. I reach over and take it for her and she smiles gratefully.

"I'm 'kay kid." I murmur, leaning in to kiss her crown. "God you're cold."

"It's Christmas, everything's cold, even the bloody hot chocolate."

And I can't help but laugh. Oh I love her for it, I needed it. I try my best to warm her, hardly caring for the odd look that comes from our father's eyes. I wanna take care of her. I wanna take care of you in the ways that only Vicki will let me. And as I look out past him, I can see you, cuddled up to Den like a little girl. Why do you discredit your strength like that Sharon? Why can't you believe in yourself, in what you want and need? Why can't you know?

I've known all along. But I've been spurned, again and again. And just the feel of your mouth, so perfect, so starved against my own, I know you're screaming out your mistakes void of the words you just don't have.

Your eyes are glassy but still they find mine and I don't think the cold snap in the air has anything to do with the way you flinch. You've been trying to ignore me, but I'm here now and you just can't do it anymore. 

You frown, instinctively. I just look back at you, refusing to be the one shown to be without the will to hold this eye contact. I want you to prove yourself weak. I'm waiting, Sharon.

The corners of your lips quiver as your expression hardens, as if you're trying to fight the idea I am there at all. But hey, if you want so much to cling to this facade of a family then it's your own damn fault I have to fit in here too. You can't refuse me everything, you can't resent... well, Kate. You can disapprove, sure you can, but not on the level you're so obviously denying.

And yep, there it is. You, tearing your eyes from mine. It's such a hollow, stinging victory. I knew you would, I knew it. What I don't know is what it was that had to make you so scared. I never really thought this was you. But still, you're a child, too weak on your own, cuddled pathetically into den's frame like you never saw me. But we both know you have and you hold yourself up like it's an effort, like the very idea is gonna haunt you all night.

But still, your lips, tinged with the blue of the biting air, somehow manage to move convincingly to the notion of the words that appear on Vicki's carol sheet, your own held in Den's hand. Wow, you really are determined to lose yourself in this aren't you, your pretty little family picture.

Get real, Sharon. I've had to. And I thought I was getting there. Maybe part of me should feel bad. I care about Kate, but this was never really a place I thought we'd go back to and I can't explain why we have. Because she's gone, full of a regret I never meant to create within her. And all your accusations still stand. Do you really think I'm cruel enough to have been imagining your face? Do you not think for the torture you've had me suffer since that night, I'm owed a time without you in my mind's eye? Sure, other innocent people are gonna be hurt as a result and I never meant that either but... what are you gonna have me do anyway/ What can I do without your truth?

So many times I look over at you to find you looking back at me. Just for a second, but it's enough, over and over again. Don't you know you're tearing me into pieces? I've never known selfishness to look the way you do, each and every time tearing your eyes away like it never mattered anyway.

But as the band tapers off and everyone around, especially Vicki, apparantly no longer able to draw warmth from my embrace, can't help but shiver, Den cuddles you closer, even though his wirey arms are lax around you and murmurs something in your ear that makes you go rigid. and I don't know whether to be surprised when, with a jerk, your eyes find me again, so inexplicably wide with fear as you nibble at your lip and shake your head.

"No, Dad, we really don't need to..."

"Don't be daft Princess, you & your sister are gonna go blue."

"What?" I throw out, completely out of the loop. Vicki almost loses her balance against me as I shift.

"They're freezing." Den tells me pointedly, glancing between the two of you as he squeezes your hand. "I just suggested that Sharon go grab a bottle of whiskey from the club, y'know, warm 'em up a bit before they pass out on us?"

I laugh gently in spite of myself as Vicki's teeth start to chatter. "Yeah. Yeah, it could happen I guess."

"My fingers coulda dropped off for all I know." Vicki protests. I take her hand up between both of mine, rubbing it furiously to encourage the circulation of her blood. And I'm well aware your eyes are on me all the time. Why? What's the matter Sharon?

"Nah, they're all still here sis, you're alright!"

But when I look up, I realise Den's looking right at me and all of a sudden, you're trying to look anywhere but.

"What?" I question again, a little more unnerved this time.

"You going or what?"

But you've leapt in even before I have the time to process whatever it is he's asking.

"Dad, I can go on my own!"

And I jolt with the realisation, gaze fixed on Den. "You want me to go too?" 

"Well, she ain't going on her own is she?"

"I can manage!" you protest furiously, almost stamping your foot in frustration as you step away from Den, but he gives you one of those famously witheringly uninterested looks.

"Tough." he answers flatly, pushing against the small of your back.

I step back to let you pass, well aware of how my whole body seems to be fired up with the intrigue due in these ensuing moments. But you scowl and charge past, determined to scurry off into the night unaccompanied.

Den rolls his eyes in despair, calling out to you sternly like you are still six. "Wait!" I smile tightly and watch him move off with Vicki towards the house, arms wrapped around her in my place. And you... you've juddered to a halt reluctantly, stooped by nothing but the fear of your precious father's reprimands. I quicken my own pace easily to meet you, but your expression doesn't change from one of hardness and mistrust, and your eyes are still shimmering with such misery. You glance behind you quickly and realising that Den is heading off with Vicki in the opposite direction and thereby no longer watching you, you bolt.

Sighing heavily, I let you go, counting away the minute's headstart you so desire before you know a fool like me faces no other choice but to chase right after you.

I'm searching for every step I take, knowing well that you might have veered off in any given direction, just to escape. But I never catch sight of you, finding myself at the club with nothing to show for it. But as I round the corner, I freeze.

Because there you are, slumped against the wall, your cheek turned against the rough, chilled bricks, shuddering because, the closer I tread, the more obvious it is your whole body is wracked with sobs.

I say nothing, just move up closer. I don't know what to do. Cautiously, I extend my hand with the intent of pressing it into your arm, but you shy away, almost trying to crawl into the wall itself just to avoid me.

"Don't touch me!"

"Sharon..."

"No! Just..." But words desert you and you're left to cough on another sob. "Why d'you have to do it? Why?"

I open my mouth to explain myself and suddenly find no words there to support me. "I...."

"You know. You know...."

And you whimper as you pull yourself up away from the wall, your keys shivering in your palm. You gulp in a much needed breath and stand in front of the main door, fumbling with the heavy, jangling keys and seemingly getting nowhere with the whole task. Guily beating against my ribs, I reach across your arm and take them from you. You recoil and fly down the staircase, shoving past me as soon as the door is open.

I bite into my lip as I follow you in, pausing only to take the decision to bolt the door from the inside. I think I can already feel the repercussions but I need to know, I need to take this one chance.

Heading down into the bar, you wouldn't appear to be anywhere if I couldn't hear you crashing around with the stock beneath the bar.

I lean across the bartop, thinking better this time of approaching you directly. Instead I just watch you. But you heard my footsteps. You know I'm here and that's enough to tense you entirely. But you're doing your best to ignore me altogether.

"Sharon..."

Heel clicking furiously against the floor, you leap you, wiping furiously at your eyes before you spin around almost in accusation. "...and I hate you for it." You slam the bottle of whiskey hanging from your hand down on the bar in front of me. "There it is. Now please, let's just go."

Caught by the desperation in your eyes, I shake my head.

Scoffing, you rush out from behind the bar and up the stairs, the bottle of whiskey completely forgotten. I hear you start to rattle the bolt desperately, but curl my hand protectively around where the keys lie in my jean pocket, assured you'll get nowhere. I take my time up the stairs, moving up behind you.

"Give me the keys."

"No."

"Just give me the keys!"

"Why? What you battling?"

"Don't Dennis, don't. Just..."

"No!"

You whirl round, backed up against the door itself and even in this dim light I can tell easily how streaked with tears your face is.

"What d'you want me to do? Beg? Fine! I'm begging... just let me unlock the door."

"You can't keep running."

Your eyes glaze coldly. "No?" Your gaze drops and I know you see where the keys themselves weigh down my pocket. You lurch, almost trying to tear the pocket itself from my my jeans with your clawed and desperate hands. But I've grabbed you too, and for a few mad seconds, we're completely warring with each other. And you're getting more and more into a state trying to fight me off whilst wanting nothing more than the keys. 

Or so it seems. Because as I pull you up, forcing you back against the wall, those wide eyes are locked on mine, tears prickling but not yet shed from the corners of your eyes. You're flushed, riled at having to work it all out.

"I hate her too. Kate. My God, right now, I could hurt her as much as... but why the Hell should I? Her world's fallen down around her and hey, there you are ready to jump on her... serious case of deja vu happening..."

"It weren't nothing like that and you know it."

"Bollocks." you spit hatefully. "She.... We were both vulnerable and you just fed off that - do something for you did it? And you... oh God, you were waiting. Just for that reaction. Congratulations, here it is!"

I open my mouth to say something to placate you. But there's no time, much less the words, because you steal my breath with the manner of possession at fierceness of your mouth upon mine, angry and starved and yet, determined to meet with and claim my kiss, almost daring in your fierocity, that some sincere form of passion should rise from within me for you to know and understood. And oh God, it takes me. In one great whrl, I am mad, my hands rigid and clawed, anxious just to touch you before you steal away that pleasure again too.

And yet your venemous desperation does not seem to be waning. You unnerve me. Even as you break away, breathless perhaps with disbelief, I have no desire to breathe at all, biting at my lip and just wanting for the moment to be gone, for your taste to die away from my lips for the last time. But still, I can hold you without your protest. But you seem to be grazing at the base of my neck, almost biting but somehow resisting the urge as moments later, what you are fighting to keep back as you shiver is made apparant, accusation cutting through your tone as you whisper against my ear.

"You know. And I'll never say it again but... I want you. So much. You've known it ever since! But you just had to make us all out to be desperate little whores by using Kate... but maybe that's the only type you'll ever need! That isn't what I am."

It feels like I've just been smashed in the chest. I can't even breathe. Because there it was right there. The one admission that by your own rule I will never hear again. I start to shake just like you are, trying to reel it in, not to... break.

Bowing my head, I bravely kiss just behind your ear, hoping you know now that somewhere, somehow, I understand and oh my God, I'm sorry.

"And I don't understand what gave you the right to make me this scared..."

Somehow, after a labour of trying, I find my voice, a cracked, guilty whisper. "Don't be! I..."

"Whatever I do now, whatever I could... you've ruined it! Because all I'll see is her, my friend and I'll only ever know you never really cared that... that I wanted you too."

a furious lump rises in my throat I can't seem to choke back. Shaking still, I pull back, reaching to cup your face in my hands, forcing you to look at me. And for the first time, I can really see in your filling eyes that it's not just the anger... it's the agony. I can really see it now and... I did that.

"But I do... you know I do."

"No!" you insist tearfully. "Because you chose to get this out of me that way and... all it woulda taken..."

Your palms clammy against the base of my neck, you stretch up and tenderly press my lips. And on your own, I am forced to drink in the salt of your tears.

"But now you got me too scared. I could wait a second to be in her place... I could wait a year - it don't change nothing. Yes... I wanted to be in her place, you got that out of me. But there's nothing else now because I wasn't, was I? And I could go there now, I would... if I didn't know what it makes me when we're out the other side."

I watch you swallow down a sob, utterly bewildered. "What? Sharon, it doesn't make you anything!"

"Yes, yes it does! Because even before we have to think about Dad, about Vicki... it makes me desperate. And I'm not. I won't be like that again."

"What you mean is... I can't be enough."

You half laugh, you half sob, caught between shaking and nodding your head, completely clueless as to what combination is the right one. You press a shaking, damp plam to my cheek, stroking down lightly with your thumb.

"Never know now."

My stomach lurches and I reach up anxiously to hold your hand in place, clinging to it as it shakes. "Please... don't say that."

 "It's true. We'd have to tear the sky down to even try. And I won't. Not now."

"So... you thought about it? You really thought about it?"

And somehow, even though you smile gently, shame plays across your face. So maybe I don't need your answer. It'll never help me now will it?

"Not until I... saw where I coulda been. And the really pathetic thing is... you'd have had it already if- oh, I need to be more than some long line up of whores! And... now there's never a time, there's nothing I could do that would stop me being just that. I thought it was about me Dennis, not one of many..."

"I'm sorry." I whisper guiltily, gaze cast to the floor. "I'm so sorry."

"Maybe you are. But it makes no odds really. I'm not brave enough. I'm just... angry. Angry I have to feel like this... that there's nothing I can do to get myself over it because if I do I'm somewhere I never wanted to be. You're a torture, Dennis. This is the most twisted way anyone's ever had me so willing. And yet there's nothing because there can't be. And I... Have you always been the same?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes you do." you whisper, almost tenderly as you nod. "You're mesmerising. That's what it is about you. But that's not sincerity is it? It's talent. So have they all been like this, tied up up in knots? Was it just that the rest never cared how cheap they made themselves just to have you?"

"What do any of them matter? It's you I want."

"Likewise. But you should never say things you don't mean, Dennis. This isn't love. It's lust. And this whole... madness, everything, it's why... why they call it a sin. And I should have learnt by now to leave all those alone."

Expelling a deep and heavy breath, you push forward against me to allow you the room to move.

"Now can I have the keys?"

Lip trembling, I press my hand protectively over my creased pocket. "Do you mean it?"

"Unfortunately..." you confess with a half giggle. "...yes. If Kate's taught you anything Dennis, it should be that every woman you've ever met would waste years on you. I envy her... because I know too, don't I? And maybe I hate that my time's gone but... maybe you've both saved me from myself. I don't have those years to waste anymore. Maybe that's the bit that hurts huh?"

"I don't wanna-"

"Shhhhh." you soothe quietly, pressing a fingertip to my lips. "It don't matter. It can't. I just need to go home."

I blanche my lip, nodding as I trace the outline of the keys, so reluctant to lift them out, to have you gone from me all over again, but for the last time, knowing you stand there in all your rightfulness, denying yourself something I so want to give you. Because I know, if you believed me, then you are strong enough. But you don't, because I have irreversibly tainted all my own sincerity. This is my own punishment, well earnt and yet already despised. But there's nothing I can do. I understand that now.

So I hand you the keys and you set to work at the door, a little less vigorous now in your need to escape it seems. But when at last the door opens easily, you breathe a small sigh of relief. Letting whispers of air rush in for a moment through the tiniest crack in the door, you close it again, looking almost anxiously over at me.

"What?" I murmur, hardly wanting to know.

"I don't know, I..."

Somehow, you have drifted back towards me, eyes wide now with uncertainty as you gaze up at me. How have I spurned someone so damn beautiful? I'm gonna be paying for this for the rest of my life. And as such, I cannot help myself.

"Let me kiss you."

Though you smile, your whole face colouring a little, you shake your head, sadly almost. "You shouldn't tempt me. Dennis, don't you get it... there's no line anymor-"

I heard you, Sharon, just not enough to care. There's hardly a need now is there? And I know I shall taste no resistance upon your lips. Nothing but that same starved impulse, urged on at a dizzying pace. It's instinctive that the two of us can't help but let our hands roam amourously. You force out a shallow breath of desperation as you find your fingertips dancing at the hem of my t-shirt, determined to push it up.

But sense steals you away from me that final time but a moment later and you almost wince, your hands flying up in regret. You do not look up towards me until you find a nervous giggle has overcome you and you seem to flop forward, your crown pushing against my chest as you laugh down towards the ground. And knowing the seconds are gone by, I bow my head, kissing your hair, leaving the regret to linger there.

And then, just like that, the motivation, the animation at last within you, although I'd give pretty much anything to eradicate it again, you straighten up and back away to force the door open with your weight. And there's this moment, wordless and disbelieving maybe where you just look at me, kind and gentle as you ever were and I wish more than ever that you might want to tear me limb from limb for this betrayal. But now, you say you'll get by. Your time is gone. No Sharon, believe me, your time is always, even if, as you say, this is only lust, wanting.

And I bet you think I don't hear you murmuring to yourself as you move off into the night, devoid of the whiskey that allegedly brought us here, but oh darlin', I do. I catch the way you glance back over your shoulder towards me as you say it - the last thing you'll ever allow to mean anything to the two of us as I meant us to be, the two of us now as we lie smouldering in the flames of destruction I so stupidly fanned.

"....so much..."