A/N: My second story ever :) trying to fill the gap between now and the start of Season 4, when we hopefully get some more Freffy!! This will probably end up being 3 or 4 chapters, just wanted to try something a little longer than a oneshot. Can be read as a follow-on to "Exhale" but bear in mind that this is a different party!! And it will end happily, I promise :) I love Freddie and Effy together and there will be none of this Effy/Cook nonsense. x

"Fuuuck" Freddie mumbled into the back of the sofa, trying desperately to slip back into unconsciousness and away from the throbbing pain in his skull. He could feel his heartbeat in his head and his stomache felt like something heavy and filthy was resting inside it.

"Fuck." He repeated, voice muffled into the –he realised as his sense of smell kicked in – reeking couch.

Slowly he rolled and forced himself upright, testing with every movement how his head and belly were reacting. Once he was sitting he lowered his head into his hands, trying to figure out through the fog of last night where he was. And how he was going to drive himself home with the hangover of death thumping away at his guts. Where the fuck did I park my car?

Freddie spots Effy from across the grass, sitting on the steps of the college, smoke in hand and bored expression across her delicate features. Pandora chatters animatedly beside her, waving her arms as she tells her story. From this distance he can't make out what she's saying, but his eyes aren't on Panda anyway.

He smiles, willing Effy to look in his direction, but his smirk changes to confusion when she looks in his direction, meets his eyes with clear distain. Maybe her parents fucked up again? He wonders, trying to decipher her mood. She looked haughty and cool, but even from this far away he can read the anger just below her controlled expression. Freddie starts making his way toward them; skateboard tucked under one arm, shoulder bag slung over the other. He's almost in front of them when the bell rings, signalling the start of first classes for the day. Pandora leaps to her feet, teetering slightly off-balance, greeting him with a cheerful wave and enthusiastic "Whizzer party last night, Freds, weren't it? Thomas said-"

"Come on Panda," Effy cuts her off, stubbing out her cigarette and taking Pandora's hand.

She turns her back on Freddie without even a glance in his direction, and he jogs a little to catch up, shifting his board to his other side and resting his cool hand on the curve of her hip. He's expecting her to lean into him, allow him to slide his hand lower onto her arse, grin at him slyly.

But she doesn't. She drops Pandora's hand and covers his own, fingers twining with his on the smooth line of her hip. It rests there for a second, then she pulls his hand away from her, pressing it back towards him and letting it go. "Don't."

For the first time she looks up into his face, blank expression regarding his bewildered one. What the fuck am I supposed to have done now? But he doesn't get a chance to ask because before he can formulate a question she pulls away, turning her attention towards Pandora's inane chatter and walking off without a backward glance.

Freddie shakes his head, groaning internally. He can't deal with this shit right now, he's fucking hungover and he's already puked twice since he left the house. She's being all mysterious again and while Freddie normally finds this a bit charming, right now he has no idea what he's done to piss her off and trying to figure it is going to have to wait because behind one of these doors he can hear Oggi Oggi Oggi and he knows he's going to be back in the shit with his dad if he keeps showing up late to his classes.

Normally they all convene on the grass outside to eat their lunch and smoke a few, but today the grey sky is threatening to break and they decide not to risk being caught in the downpour. It meant they had to be surrounded by the rest of the chattering college students but they didn't mind so much.

Effy was glad. The extra noise meant she could get away with saying little. It meant she could just smile or nod or fix someone with the appropriate piercing stare and they'd let her because otherwise they have to almost yell over the sound all around them, and Effy didn't yell. People just shut up when she talked.

But right now she didn't want to talk. She wanted to brood and she wanted Freddie to fucking figure out what he had to say sorry for, and even though she knew it was wrong she wanted to see him make his pissed off face when she told him she wasn't going to forgive him.

Because she wasn't.

So she sat silently, pretending to watch JJ reduce Emily to a state of giggly awe with a card trick. She determinedly didn't look up when Freddie and Cook arrived at the table. Effy heard Cook guffawing loudly, knowing his head would be thrown back with mirth. She doesn't really want to see his face though. He doesn't hold any interest for her anymore, only lingering guilt when she thinks of how she hurt him, how she hurt Freddie, how she hurt JJ. He is a reminder of the pain she's caused and she doesn't care to see him.

Freddie she cares about.

But it's Freddie she wants to punish. So when he slings down his bag, haphazardly, and throws himself just as carelessly onto the table she's sitting on, looping his arm around her shoulder and pressing his face to her neck, she doesn't respond. He's still chuckling about something, but when he feels her tense lack of reaction he stops and instead kisses her neck, below her ear. Usually she would place her small hand on his leg, move it slowly towards his crotch. She'd smile at the little satisfied noises he makes as she works her way higher and he buries his face in her, sliding his hands up and down her body, giving everyone a show and making Cook fall uncharacteristically silent and JJ chatter uncomfortably.

But today she shifts away, pushing his tanned arm off her shoulders and pressing her hand against his cheek to make him stop. The same hand, the same cheek that she'd slapped the night before at the party, but he doesn't remember.

"Fuck off," she tells him simply. Her face gives nothing away, but her words are serious and he realises she's not just playing this time.

"Eff?" he asks cautiously, but a little annoyed at the same time that whatever her problem was this morning she hasn't forgiven him for yet. "What's the fucking problem now?"

She raises her eyebrows, mockingly. "The 'fucking problem' is I don't want you touching me, alright?" She shakes her head a little, a tiny movement, but it manages to convey enough. Fucking clueless tosser is what Freddie gets out of it.

Freddie rolls his eyes and scoots away from her. She's being a bitch and he doesn't know why, and maybe tomorrow he'll work it out but not right this second. Right now his head feels like someone kicked it and she's not making it any better.

"Whatever. Anyone got any spliff?" Effy makes a scoffing sound, which Freddie pointedly ignores, then she gets up gracefully from the table and starts to walk out. He watches her go, confusion and irritation written plainly across his handsome face.

Everyone else in the group turns their attention to her retreating back, before looking at Freddie for some indication of where she was going. Freddie shrugs.

"What the fuck's going on with her?" he asks no one in particular.

Cook, JJ, Thomas and Pandora look back just as blankly, and Emily and Katie look down. Ems' face is unreadable but Katie's has an unmistakable expression of glee. He gets nothing from anyone except Naomi, whose mouth opens slightly in surprise.

"Are you serious? You fucked up, mate." She laughs when she realises he has no idea what she's talking about, then continues quickly when his look of indignation turns into a scowl. "Jesus, how shitfaced were you last night? You don't remember fighting with her? You don't remember what you said?"

Freddie, utterly lost, strains to remember any pieces of last night still fragmented in his consciousness. He remembers a stinging slap, pain in his cheek, throwing up against a wall outside somewhere. He remembers Effy's mouth against his. He remembers her in his arms, dancing and grinding against him. Drinking a whole bottle of vodka, he remembers that. He remembers long blonde hair.

Wait.

Fuck.

"Naomi… I think you need to tell me what the fuck happened at that party last night. Right now."

So that's it for chapter 1. I'd like to try and hold out for a review before I go onto the next chapter but if not then it'll be up in a couple of days anyway. Feedback is greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoy!! J x