Diplomacy (1/1)
Title: Diplomacy
Rating: Pg
Summary: Naomi and Katie try.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
A/N: Completely unrelated to the fic; my mum was watching the Prescotts on BBLB with me, and thought Pope Meg is better looking. Like, I seriously love her for that.
This is Naomi Campbell's forte. She doesn't feel like having it as a forte today, but well, fuck. She has a job to do.
With one final roll of her eyes, wondering why on fucking Earth she's doing this, she rings the doorbell.
She knows that the girl she needs is home. She can hear her music blasting loudly, reverberating throughout the cute suburban house.
She rings the bell a few more times, growing impatient. Still no response. She doesn't have time for this.
"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, FITCH." She finally errupts, slamming a fist on the door.
She hears footsteps stumbling down the stairs shouting "All right, all right! Keep your fucking knickers on!" And when the door is wrenched open, Naomi can only offer a tight smile, before pushing her way past Katie.
"What do you want? You know Emily isn't here." She spits, following Naomi to the kitchen.
"I think we should talk." She says sounding far too unenthused.
"What about?" Katie stands in the doorway, arms crossed, and Christ, Naomi can't resist rolling her eyes.
"Just fucking sit down, Katie."
Katie scowls in response "This is my fucking house."
"Whatever. I think we should be friends." She says, her tone contradicting her words on so many levels. She even cringes slightly as she says it.
Katie blinks. Twice. Before her shoulders start to shake a bit, and a giggle escapes her lips, and it only takes one, maybe two seconds, before she's howling with laughter, doubled over.
Fucking hell. Naomi tries, and she tries, but Jesus Christ, this girl does not make it easy.
No wonder Effy hit her with a rock.
"Katie." She finally interrupts, and the red head looks up, as if only just remembering Naomi was in the room with her.
"Why in fuck's name would we be friends. I can't be seen with you. By the way, what the fuck are you wearing today?" She says through fading laughter, and lingering amusement.
It's Naomi's turn to be silent, staring at the small redhead, who still looks so amused. And it's just one of those things when she feels it bubble up inside herself as well.
They both start laughing at the same moment, finding it increasingly difficult to breathe everytime they meet eachother's eyes and find it more and more hilarious. The idea of them being friends.
Finally it dies down, and they wipe at their eyes feeling breathless.
"Okay lezza. What do you want to drink?" Katie relents, turning to the cupboards and grabbing a couple of glasses out.
--
Twenty minutes later, they both lay on the grass in the garden. It's warm, and the sun is fading behind a row of trees. It's a pretty night. Naomi almost wishes she was spending it with Emily, but when she turns and sees the older Fitch, slugging from a bottle of vodka, she remembers that this is a peace mission. For Emily's sake.
They drink the first half of the bottle in near silence, occasionally commenting on a cloud or something neither really cares about. Eventually Naomi thinks Katie's had enough drink to be able to talk somewhat seriously without trying to kill her. Or maybe it will just make her laugh harder.
"Emily loves us," Naomi starts, but Katie groans loudly, rolling away.
"Naomi, I get it okay. I don't care if she wants to bone girls or whatever."
"It's not about boning girls, it's-"
"Yeah, yeah. It's about love." she mocks, feeling slightly sick at the thought of them together, like, loving eachother, or whatever.
"Katie, let me fucking speak! It's not about me and Emily, it's about you and me!" It stops Katie dead.
"What?"
"We need to get along. For Emily's sake." It's silent for a beat before relief rushes through virtually every fibre of Katie's being.
"Oh, thank fuck, I thought you meant you and me like.... eurgh." She shudders, and begins laughing again. Naomi looks at her with good natured horror.
Her and Katie. Can you fucking imagine?
"You're fucking mental." Naomi comments, and Katie just smiles fondly upwards at the sky.
"Okay, what do you want then?" Katie finally asks, looking at Naomi with, for once, a look of, well, not pure hatred. It's nice.
"To play nicely. At least around Emily." Katie nods, and looks back up to the sky. It's darker now. She thinks she can see a few stars, but she's a bit wasted now, and it could just be her imagination.
Katie wants to ask Naomi something, but hesitates.
"What is it?" The blonde asks softly, and it sort of irritates Katie, because they're not friends yet, but whatever. She'll let it slide for now.
"Does it really bother her? You and me fighting, I mean." Katie can't look at Naomi, because, really, she's so ashamed that she doesn't know everything about her little sister anymore. She hates that she has to ask someone else, when someone else should be asking her. She knows, at least, this is what Emily wants. For Katie to let go of her, and okay, she can do that. Because she really does love Emily.
Naomi just sighs and brings her gaze back to the sky.
"I think it bothers her more than she lets on, to either of us." Katie nods, understanding.
"I think you're right." She sighs.
"So," Naomi smiles a slightly crooked smile, and Katie thinks she knows that Emily loves it.
"We'll play nicely then, yeah? At least around Ems."
"Yeah." Naomi agrees, feeling something warm up in her chest at the unexpected success she had.
They lay in silence for a few more minutes before Naomi sits up.
"I should get home." She smiles apologetically. Katie just nods.
They both stand, awkward for a moment when neither knows what to say, but Katie finally blurts out, "Thank you."
It surprises both of them a bit, but Katie clears her throat uncomfortably, and decides to elaborate; "For looking after her, I mean. Thank you." Naomi smiles silently.
"Bye, Katie."
"Yeah."
Naomi disappears into the cold of the wind-exposed street, feeling her hair stray from it's usual style.
Tucking a strand of platinum blonde behind her ear, she thinks smugly That was some fucking diplomacy.
Rating: Pg
Summary: Naomi and Katie try.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
A/N: Completely unrelated to the fic; my mum was watching the Prescotts on BBLB with me, and thought Pope Meg is better looking. Like, I seriously love her for that.
This is Naomi Campbell's forte. She doesn't feel like having it as a forte today, but well, fuck. She has a job to do.
With one final roll of her eyes, wondering why on fucking Earth she's doing this, she rings the doorbell.
She knows that the girl she needs is home. She can hear her music blasting loudly, reverberating throughout the cute suburban house.
She rings the bell a few more times, growing impatient. Still no response. She doesn't have time for this.
"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, FITCH." She finally errupts, slamming a fist on the door.
She hears footsteps stumbling down the stairs shouting "All right, all right! Keep your fucking knickers on!" And when the door is wrenched open, Naomi can only offer a tight smile, before pushing her way past Katie.
"What do you want? You know Emily isn't here." She spits, following Naomi to the kitchen.
"I think we should talk." She says sounding far too unenthused.
"What about?" Katie stands in the doorway, arms crossed, and Christ, Naomi can't resist rolling her eyes.
"Just fucking sit down, Katie."
Katie scowls in response "This is my fucking house."
"Whatever. I think we should be friends." She says, her tone contradicting her words on so many levels. She even cringes slightly as she says it.
Katie blinks. Twice. Before her shoulders start to shake a bit, and a giggle escapes her lips, and it only takes one, maybe two seconds, before she's howling with laughter, doubled over.
Fucking hell. Naomi tries, and she tries, but Jesus Christ, this girl does not make it easy.
No wonder Effy hit her with a rock.
"Katie." She finally interrupts, and the red head looks up, as if only just remembering Naomi was in the room with her.
"Why in fuck's name would we be friends. I can't be seen with you. By the way, what the fuck are you wearing today?" She says through fading laughter, and lingering amusement.
It's Naomi's turn to be silent, staring at the small redhead, who still looks so amused. And it's just one of those things when she feels it bubble up inside herself as well.
They both start laughing at the same moment, finding it increasingly difficult to breathe everytime they meet eachother's eyes and find it more and more hilarious. The idea of them being friends.
Finally it dies down, and they wipe at their eyes feeling breathless.
"Okay lezza. What do you want to drink?" Katie relents, turning to the cupboards and grabbing a couple of glasses out.
--
Twenty minutes later, they both lay on the grass in the garden. It's warm, and the sun is fading behind a row of trees. It's a pretty night. Naomi almost wishes she was spending it with Emily, but when she turns and sees the older Fitch, slugging from a bottle of vodka, she remembers that this is a peace mission. For Emily's sake.
They drink the first half of the bottle in near silence, occasionally commenting on a cloud or something neither really cares about. Eventually Naomi thinks Katie's had enough drink to be able to talk somewhat seriously without trying to kill her. Or maybe it will just make her laugh harder.
"Emily loves us," Naomi starts, but Katie groans loudly, rolling away.
"Naomi, I get it okay. I don't care if she wants to bone girls or whatever."
"It's not about boning girls, it's-"
"Yeah, yeah. It's about love." she mocks, feeling slightly sick at the thought of them together, like, loving eachother, or whatever.
"Katie, let me fucking speak! It's not about me and Emily, it's about you and me!" It stops Katie dead.
"What?"
"We need to get along. For Emily's sake." It's silent for a beat before relief rushes through virtually every fibre of Katie's being.
"Oh, thank fuck, I thought you meant you and me like.... eurgh." She shudders, and begins laughing again. Naomi looks at her with good natured horror.
Her and Katie. Can you fucking imagine?
"You're fucking mental." Naomi comments, and Katie just smiles fondly upwards at the sky.
"Okay, what do you want then?" Katie finally asks, looking at Naomi with, for once, a look of, well, not pure hatred. It's nice.
"To play nicely. At least around Emily." Katie nods, and looks back up to the sky. It's darker now. She thinks she can see a few stars, but she's a bit wasted now, and it could just be her imagination.
Katie wants to ask Naomi something, but hesitates.
"What is it?" The blonde asks softly, and it sort of irritates Katie, because they're not friends yet, but whatever. She'll let it slide for now.
"Does it really bother her? You and me fighting, I mean." Katie can't look at Naomi, because, really, she's so ashamed that she doesn't know everything about her little sister anymore. She hates that she has to ask someone else, when someone else should be asking her. She knows, at least, this is what Emily wants. For Katie to let go of her, and okay, she can do that. Because she really does love Emily.
Naomi just sighs and brings her gaze back to the sky.
"I think it bothers her more than she lets on, to either of us." Katie nods, understanding.
"I think you're right." She sighs.
"So," Naomi smiles a slightly crooked smile, and Katie thinks she knows that Emily loves it.
"We'll play nicely then, yeah? At least around Ems."
"Yeah." Naomi agrees, feeling something warm up in her chest at the unexpected success she had.
They lay in silence for a few more minutes before Naomi sits up.
"I should get home." She smiles apologetically. Katie just nods.
They both stand, awkward for a moment when neither knows what to say, but Katie finally blurts out, "Thank you."
It surprises both of them a bit, but Katie clears her throat uncomfortably, and decides to elaborate; "For looking after her, I mean. Thank you." Naomi smiles silently.
"Bye, Katie."
"Yeah."
Naomi disappears into the cold of the wind-exposed street, feeling her hair stray from it's usual style.
Tucking a strand of platinum blonde behind her ear, she thinks smugly That was some fucking diplomacy.