A/N: Well, here I go again. It seems my attempt to cure writer's block seems to be "start writing something else that isn't what I'm stuck on", so instead of attempting to plug away at something that just isn't coming easily as I'd like it to at this point in time, I did just that, and started something else, which is why you end up with this and not another chapter of SF or GA (be thankful for the moment, because I'd much rather post something that you'd all like to read, and at the moment, where those two stories are concerned, it's taking a while, because I am trying to avoid a lot of ways those stories could go, because of a slew of differing reasons. Confused? Be thankful it's not you writing it lol)

So, I've decided to try something that may fall flat on its face, and you can call this a warning in advance, and as usual, I apologise profusely if it sucks gigantic monkey balls.

Crime/Comedy/Romance/Mystery (I hope)/BitOfEverythingReally.

If people like it, I may stick at it. Plus, I get a kick out of this whole first person POV bit.

Cheers to VioletW for half of the title... I much preferred Vanilla as opposed to Rainbow, but there's no way in hell I'm naming a fic after a digital strip club.

Disclaimer: I do not own skins. If this reads like a movie or book you have read, it's purely unintentional, and I swear this came from my own brain. Typos and all! Which I don't think there are any, but I may be proved wrong... So I'll blame the iPad, as per.

(Naomi POV)

You wouldn't know it to look at me, right this second. You wouldn't know I'm having the most fantastic dream, in which a beautiful girl is licking between my legs like it was her life's work. Because I look peaceful, you see... I've probably got a slight smile on my face, and I look calm. So, who the fuck invited that shrill ringing into my calm, and alright, rather erotic dream? I slide my hand out from under the duvet and grope around blindly for my mobile, answering it.

"What?" Ok, so I'm not the most polite when woken up at... What fucking time is it? Three am? Oh, Christ.

"Good morning, I'm sorry to call so early, am I speaking with Naomi Campbell?" Came the apologetic female voice on the other end of the line.

"Maybe." I grumbled. "Who is asking?"

The caller cleared her throat. "I'm Detective Emily Fitch with the Bristol Police. I'm calling in regards to a shooting at the Rainbow Unicorn nightclub."

"A shooting?!" I said, sitting bolt upright in bed. A shooting at my nightclub?

"That's correct. It appears one of your employees has been shot. Details are sketchy right now, but we need you to come down to the club to make a statement, and-"

"Uh, no, yes, of course... I'll... I'm on my way now. Detective ...Fitch, was it?" I said, barely able to control the panic I felt. Who was it? Were they ok? What if...

"That's correct. You can't miss me, but ask around for Emily, someone will find me." Came the reply. "I'm awfully sorry to have to drag you out of bed, Miss Campbell."

"I understand, you have a job to do. I'll not be long." I said, hanging up the phone. Fucking great. A shooting at my club, just what I need. Well, at least I had an alibi, she was lying in bed next to me... What was her name, again? I wracked my brain to think...

"Candy, wake up!" I said, nudging her awake. Ok, even I admit her name is très porn star, but whatever. She was hot, she was into me, she gave me the look, and now I was waking her up to nonchalantly boot her out of my flat. Charming, no?

Muffled mumbling came from beneath the mop of black hair splayed over the other pillow. Mumbling that was now accompanied with crawling towards me, while I was trying to crawl OUT of my bed. "Wha... Where are you going, lover? It's ...Jesus, it's-"

"Three am, I know. Look, babes... Something has come up, yeah? I need you to go."

"Oh, you're kicking me out?"

I frowned. Can't she just take the sodding hint, without getting particular? "Not intentionally. There's an emergency at work. Listen... If the police ask, you were with me all night. If the media ask, you never met me, got it?" Last thing I needed was a one-night-stand to have her name dragged through the mud...and linked to mine forever.

Candy lay on her stomach looking seductively at me. "Ooh... Are you on the run?"

I laugh. "Hardly. I'll explain some other time, now, please... As much as I love seeing you naked, you really have to go."

She huffed, but did as she was told, gathering her clothes from where they had been scattered hours before in the heat of the moment. She paused to write her number on the notepad that was on the dresser. She finished pulling on her tight t-shirt that fitted every single curve of her body, her hands resting on her belt line. She put on her jacket and stood next to me. She pulled me close and kissed me. "I'd better see you again, Campbell, that was one hell of a night,"

"I'll call you." I lied, giving her my best sincere look. She opened the door and went through it, letting it close behind her. I shook my head and finished putting on my sneakers, and grabbed my purple jacket from the coat stand, exiting my flat.

So, I own a nightclub, yeah? The Rainbow Unicorn, the brightest and best gay nightclub in Bristol. Opened it about two years ago, and doing quite well, thanks very much. Usually when I got a call at three in the morning, though, it was going to be less than sparkly news. So, when I pulled up to the Unicorn, I wasn't surprised when I found four police vehicles parked outside, and the whole corner cordoned off with police tape. Shit, this must be more serious than I thought. I picked up keys and my phone, and got out of the car, locking it securely behind me. I walked towards the entrance, and was stopped by two burly policeman who stood in front of me.

"Sorry, love, this is a crime scene. No admittance without authorisation." Said one of them.

"Actually, it's my place of business that someone has recklessly shot up." I said. "Would you mind telling me where I can find a Detective Fitch?"

"Who's looking for the detective?" The obstinate copper asked me.

"Naomi Campbell, the owner of the establishment." I sneered back.

The policeman got his hand on his radio. "Detective Fitch, constable Quigley, here. There's a Naomi Campbell here to see you, says she's the owner of this place." He said, with a smirk.

The radio crackled into life with a slightly husky response. "I'll be down in a minute, Quigley."

"I assume you heard that?" Quigley asked me, and I nodded my response. Fucking tosser. "Heard any good model jokes, lately?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, I don't know, mate... Can't sort them from all the stupid copper jokes I've heard lately, can I?" I replied. Quigley's partner gave a little snicker, and the former gave him a smack on the arm, but I was too occupied with the view that was coming down the stairs. A short, petite woman, usual police garb I suppose, but she filled it out quite well, in all the right places, as one would say. And I'm only a civilian, but I'm guessing that colour red that her hair is isn't a standard issue, either. She was beautiful, too... Definitely not the sort of person I would take for being a copper on first guess, but let me tell you, as meek as she looks, I wouldn't mind her handcuffing me to something. It's always the quiet looking ones they say you have to watch for.

"You must be Miss Campbell?" She said, extending her hand to lift the police tape, so as I could walk under it.

"Yes, that's right. Naomi." I replied, holding my hand out in greeting. She took it, and grasped it firmly. I couldn't help but feel the pleasant chill that ran up my arm, at the contact of her skin against mine. She removed her hand and smiled shyly at me, before continuing.

"I do apologise once again for having to wake you up so early, but we are required to notify the owner in the case of a crime of this magnitude." She said, leading me into the club. "Uh... Do you have an office, or somewhere private we might..."

"Oh, of course. Up this way." I said, leading the detective up the stairs at the back of the club to my office that sat well above all the action. I opened the door, and ushered her in. "Uhm, I apologise for the mess." I said, clearing a space on the desk and pulling a chair for the detective to sit down. "I'd offer a drink, but I suppose you're on duty."

The detective nodded. "You would suppose correct. Now, Miss Campbell-"

"Naomi, please." I said, waving away her officiousness. Her eyes caught mine, and I noticed that she swallowed, possibly due to nerves. I suppose it's not the sort of thing a copper likes to have to explain.

"Naomi, then." She nodded, in reply. "Naomi, about an hour and a half ago, there was an attempted robbery downstairs in your bar. Three patrons donned balaclavas and robbed the bar staff at gunpoint. One of them sprayed the crowd with bullets, and one of your staff members, uhm... A Thomas Tomone?" She said, checking her notebook. "He attempted to disarm one of the gunmen, and was shot as a result. The gunmen got away with approximately £3000 in cash, and our officers are on the lookout for them as we speak."

"Christ." I said. "How is Thomas? Is he alright?"

The detective looked at me, sadly. "I'm afraid I couldn't say. He was in a critical condition, and was taken to hospital, and we've not had an update, yet." She checked her notepad again. "Apparently, a James Cook went to the hospital with him in the ambulance, perhaps he may have some more news. We are, of course anxious ourselves as to his condition, in case we need to...upgrade charges."

I scoffed. "Charges? Can't exactly charge someone you can't find, can you? Do you have any clues? Or are you guys just a Keystone lot?"

The detective laughed, softly. And I think in that moment, I failed to be annoyed at her for a split second. "We do have leads, yeah. We've got some bystanders we are talking to, and I actually need to ask you for your CCTV footage. See if we can get a glimpse of these guys."

"Oh, right." I said, the wind having being taken out of my accusation. "Good to know my taxes are paying for someone worthwhile, then." I opened the door to the video room, and the detective followed me in. "Which areas do you need?" I asked, pointing to the equipment in front of me. The screens were labelled, according to which part of the club they covered.

"The door, the bar, both sides if you can, and the seating areas. And just for the last three hours. No other patrons reported seeing them anywhere else. Apparently according to your door security they had only been let in about ten minutes prior to the attack."

"I can assure you, I'll be grilling them to find out what went on..." I muttered. "Security isn't usually so lax around here." I explained, popping out the tapes that the detective would need. Once I was done, there was a pile of six tapes sitting not he desk in front of me. "I hope you like popcorn." I smirked.

The detective just stared at me. "You're rather flippant for someone whose club has just been shot to hell. Any reason why?"

The smirk left my face rather quickly. "No reason, I assure you. It's more of less how I deal with things of a shocking nature."

"It's a serious crime." The detective said. "And it's taken place in your club."

I waved it off. "Detective, this place has been a nightclub for about thirty years. Granted it's not the first crime it's seen, and it won't be the last. I know what sort of game I'm in here, I've been doing it since I was eighteen, and it's come to pass that I expect things like this to occur. There are always those who will have it in for you, when you are in the nightclub game... Especially those who deal in things that are slightly less legal, if you get meaning... Which, by the way, I do not."

The detective looked at me curiously. "So, you think someone might have it in for you?"

I shrugged. "I don't see who." I squared my eyes at hers, and watched her watching me. "I don't rock the boat, detective. All I offer is a good time under my roof. Come and dance here, don't come and dance here... It makes no difference to me. The only rules here, are to leave your life outside my door, and have yourself a damn good time while you're here."

The detective cleared her throat. "Well, sounds like quite the advertisement." She replied, her voice just a little lower and just a little huskier. The corners of my lips turned up in a gentle smirk.

"Well, if ever you get the night off from playing detective..." I sighed, a little seductively.

A knock came on the door, and it opened partway. "Detective Fitch? We have word from the hospital on the wounded man."

The detective stood up and excused herself, leaving me alone with the monitors. Why the hell would someone try and rob, as well as shoot up the bar of a gay club? It was beyond me. The anti-gay types liked to just spew harsh words, or carry laughably spelled placards, but they didn't resort to this kind of crime. I pulled out my phone and found that there were a few missed calls, all from Cook. Bugger. I dialled his number.

"Naomikins! 'Bout sodding time you called, yeah? Look, I'm at the hospital, and-" Cook blurted.

"Cook...slow down, mate. Take a breath, yeah? I'm at the Unicorn. Mate, what happened?" I said, trying to calm him.

Cook took a long breath to steel himself. "Naomi, there were three guys, they had guns. They held up the bar, and Panda, bless her, didn't put up a fight, but then Thomas got in the way trying to protect her once he saw they had guns, and then there were shots, and Thomas went down..." Out of breath, he stopped once more. I heard him breathing harshly on the other end of the line.

"James?" I asked, worried. And he knew I never called him by his first name unless I was being serious.

"He's gone, Naoms." He choked out. "They got him twice in the stomach, and he lost too much blood."

"Fuck." I whispered, feeling tears slipping from my eyelids. "Is Panda there with you?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna stay with her for a bit." Cook replied.

"Ok. I'm going to finish up here and see if they need a statement or something, and then I'm going to try and contact Thomas's family. Give Panda my love, yeah?"

"Will do, Naoms." Cook said, before the line went silent. I locked my phone and placed it on the desk, running my fingers through my hair and taking a deep breath.

"Miss Campbell?" The husky voice of the detective reached my ears, and I looked up to see curious eyes, that quickly changed to eyes of concern as they took in my troubled expression. She knelt in front of me and placed her hand on my knee. "I'm afraid I have some bad news."

I sighed. "If you're going to tell me my employee is dead, you're a little late." I croaked, holding up my phone. "Eyewitness news beat you to it."

"I am sorry." The detective said, softly. "We will need you to make a statement, as to your whereabouts for the evening. Purely to rule you out as a suspect, you understand."

I nodded. "I understand. If you don't mind, I'd like to call my assistant manager so there's a staff member on site."

"Of course." The detective replied, leaving the room.

I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts, and dialled. She was going to hate me for this, but too bad.

"Naoms... Do you have any idea what time it is?" Came the sleepy response.

"Eff, I don't have time for it. You have exactly ten minutes to get to the club. There's been a shooting, and I have to give a statement to the police. I need you here on site while the crime scene people finish up."

"A shooting?!" Effy exclaimed.

"Yes." I replied. "And I'm leaving here in fifteen, so you'd better be here in ten."

"Alright. I'm on my way." Effy said, before hanging up.

I placed my phone back into my pocket, and sighed. What a night. There was a short knock at the door, and the head of the detective peered around it. She gave me an apologetic smile. "Sorry, if you're ready..."

"Yes, of course. My assistant manager will be here in about ten minutes."

"Good, we can wait a little while."

"Anything you want to get out of the way first?" I asked.

The detective shook her head. "No, it's better if I take your statement at the station. For your protection, you understand."

"Oh, I see." I smirked. "Just in case you inserted something into my statement that I didn't actually say."

She smiled. "Something like that."

I nodded. "Makes sense."

"Oh, I was wondering, did you have any contact information for Mr Tomone's family?" The detective asked.

I stood up. "Yes, I do. His family lives in the Congo, but I have a number where his mother can be reached." I explained, walking over to the filing cabinet, and opening the top drawer. I flicked through the various folders and pulled out Thomas's file. I closed the cabinet again, and handed the file over. "Her contact info is on the first page." I said, as I handed the detective the file. Her fingertips brushed against mine, and I very nearly dropped the whole thing onto the floor at the sensation of her touch on my skin. If she noticed, she didn't let on, taking the file from me and tucking it under her arm.

"Thank you."

"N-no problem." I stuttered.

The detective's radio crackled into life. "Detective Fitch, there's a Miss Stonem here. Says she works here, and was asked by the manager to come down."

She looked at me and raised en eyebrow. "Someone you know?"

I nodded. "Yeah, that's my assistant manager." And she's here in record time, too.

The detective depressed the button on her radio. "Let her up, tell her to come up to the office, and mind the police tape as she goes."

"Roger." Came the reply.

A few short moments later, the door to my office swung open. "Jesus, Naoms, it looks like there was a person shot to bits down there!" Effy said, as she walked into the room, not noticing the presence of the detective.

I looked at her, seriously. "There was." I said.

Effy's eyes widened. "Oh, shit. Who?"

"Effy, this is Detective Fitch, with the Bristol Police." I said, getting the introductions out of the way.

"Hello." The detective nodded.

I sighed. "Our bar was held up this evening. Three guys in balaclavas got away with three grand. They shot Thomas."

Effy sat down. "Oh, no. Naoms... Is he..." I just shook my head in reply. "Oh god..."

"Effy, I need you to focus, we can worry about Thomas and Panda later. I need you to hold the fort here, while I go and give a statement."

"Yes, of course. Where's Cook?"

"He's at the hospital with Panda." I replied.

"Right." Effy replied. "Ok, I'll take care of things here, you go and do what you need to do."

"I'll just be downstairs waiting. Whenever you are ready." The detective said, edging her way out of the door. I watched her go, how could I not? What I was trying to ignore was the fact that I was thinking about how to get into her police pants while my employee and friend was lying dead from a gunshot wound. I sighed, shaking my head to try and clear my thoughts. Less about the fuckable detective, and more about the situation at hand, Naomi!

"Thomas is dead?" Effy said, quietly.

"Yeah, I'm just as shocked as you. Look, do me a favour? Call Cook and he can fill you in, yeah?" I said. "I'm going to see if I can get the detective to hold off calling his mother, and ask if she'll let us do it. I'd rather she hear it from his friends than some official wanker. Besides, the detective seems like a reasonable type."

Effy stood up and pulled me into a tight hug. She always knew when I needed it. "Thanks, Eff." I said. "For coming down at such short notice."

"Yeah, well... Just be thankful I don't believe in beauty sleep."

I smirked. "Not that you need it anyway."

"Ha. Now go, you have a hot copper to talk to." Effy said, playfully nudging me.

I laughed. "Yeah and I'm hardly going to get a chance at grand seduction while she's interrogating me, am I?"

"Ah, you never know... She could be a wet-celery-and-flying-helmet kind of girl." Effy smirked.

"SOMEone has been watching too many old comedies." I said, on my way out the door. I caught the end of her gleeful cackle as I started my way down the stairs. The detective was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, talking to one of her colleagues. She looked up and caught my eye as I walked down the stairs. Ok, so I wasn't looking my one hundred percent fuckable best, but I had been dragged out of bed by this. But she still looked at me like she was in awe of me, but then that could just be the questionable emergency flood lighting this place has.

"Are you ready to go?" The detective asked, as I made it to the bottom step.

"Yes. Are we going in a squad car, or would you like me to meet you there?" I asked.

"Squad car, I'm afraid." The detective said. "But I can offer you the choice of being led out casually, or kicking and screaming."

I laughed. "Oh, casually I should think. I think the neighbours got enough of a show tonight." The detective smiled and we went out to her car. "Erm... Front, or back?" I asked.

"Sorry, it'll have to be the back. Police policy." She frowned in reply.

"Oh, no offence taken, I can assure you." I winked, getting into the back seat and shutting the door. She got into the driver's seat, and shut the door behind her, buckling her seatbelt. "Erm, look... I know it might be against whatever informing-next-of-kin policy you might have... But I wondered if I might be allowed to call Thomas's mother to let her know?"

The detective turned to me. "Is there any reason why?"

"If you met the woman, detective, you would understand. She's a very gentle woman, loves her son very much, and thinks the world of him. It's going to break her heart enough to hear he is gone, and... Well, pardon me for putting it bluntly, she deserves more than to just hear it from a copper who doesn't know her family."

The detective thought for a moment, then nodded. "It is an irregular request, but I think given the circumstances, we can allow it."

"Thanks. Now, I'm sure you have something you would rather be doing, so why don't we get to the station and get this out of the way?" I said, and the detective nodded, starting the car, and pulling away from the kerb.

A/N#2: Thoughts?

I literally have sort of zero idea as to where this is going, and am not above pulling stupid plot ideas out of thin air. So, unless you'd like this to turn into one of those bizarre stories where there's a serious plot element followed by a Bollywood dance-off...

SUGGESTIONS ARE WELCOME!

As are reviews.

And chocolate.

And bacon.

(Warning: chocolate, bacon and computer peripherals may not be compatible.)

:-D

~GN~ xo