A/N: Set in a post- St Trinians 2 world. Zoe/Bianca because I love crazy dynamics in relationships and these are a lot of fun to write, even if it's just them bickering... which this sort of is I suppose... at least for now but I digress. Enjoy!


Broken gears

She sees her and for a moment she's so stunned at the sight of her that she stands there and just stares for way longer than is probably appropriate.
Then she remembers she's got a girlfriend or that, more relevantly, said girlfriend is pulling her towards some shop that she has no desire to step into whatsoever. She keeps looking though and just as she's about to vanish into another half an hours worth of torment, the woman looks up and straight into her eyes and her immediate response is to lift her hand and give Bianca the finger.
That nasty bitch.
Bianca scowls then she's pulled through the door…


She goes back later… alone. Her girlfriend was great but only in small doses, very small doses around the size of a thimble full. So she goes back, stalks over and drops down into the seat opposite the woman who for a long while doesn't even spare her a glance.

"Your chav-ness is infecting my work. You risk sending me into unemployment," She drones, her tone sharp and she glares flatly over at Bianca, eyeing her as if she were a stain on a pristine white shirt except Zoe doesn't wear white shirts.

"I'm a Rude Girl," Bianca corrects firmly, just like she has done too many times before and just like every other time, she knows she'll be ignored. "What you doing 'ere?"

"The same thing I was doing an hour ago."

Zoe is smirking again, that patronising smirk that she knows pushes Bianca's buttons because Bianca hates being talked to like she's stupid and Zoe's always been good at doing that. She hasn't changed much really looking at her. She looks a bit older and maybe a bit tired, like a weight has settled on her shoulders; a weight that won't shift. She's ditched the skirt in favour of black denim jeans.
Bianca's nose wrinkles then she huffs.

"I'm tryin' be friendly," She says, her irritation hardening her tone and Zoe glances away, clearly contemplating something bitchy before she looks down at the papers in front of herself and she twirls her pencil.

"I'm looking for inspiration…" She explains, choosing to be civil for two seconds like fuck, did Hell just freeze over? Bianca peers down at the sheets of paper. It's drawings, people, animals, buildings, anything really… They're not bad either. She'd call them great if they were anyone else's.

"For what?" She asks and Zoe huffs a breath.

"I'm doing a mural for a Primary school…" She returns flatly. Bianca blinks at her, unable to disguise her disbelief and Zoe scowls at her warningly. "I need money. Bills don't pay themselves nor do I photosynthesise like a fucking plant. I need food, don't I? Therefore I am doing a stupid mural for stupid, bratty kids," She growls.

"Alright… Chill…" Bianca protests. She looks down at the drawings. "They ain't bad."

"Thanks…"

"I'm bein' serious," Bianca huffs indignantly. "Can't say nowt right with you."

"Why are you bothering me?" Zoe demands and Bianca decides she's had enough of this shit already and would actually prefer listening to her girlfriend complaining about their clashing dress senses.

"Well… fucking fine," She says simply and she stands with an angry huff and walks off past the Emo with the intent of going to buy herself something alcoholic just to forget the whole irritating day.

"... Hey! Wait!"

Bianca stops walking and pauses for a moment.
She isn't obligated to pay any attention to Zoe. They only seem to be able to communicate through arguments and fist fights and that was fine at school but out in the real world there's no Matron around to clean the blood off your face.

She sighs heavily, questioning her sanity, before she turns to find Zoe leaning over the back of her chair and staring across the road before her gaze falls onto Bianca.

"I need ideas…" She says and it's as much of a request as Bianca will ever get and so she heads back, drops into the chair again and she looks down at the piles of sketches and flips through them them all curiously before sliding them out the way and resting her hands down, her fingers drumming against the wood.

"You need something… fun," She states.

Zoe stares at her with a flat look and Bianca sniffs.

"You do know what fun is, don't you?" She asks, not entirely sure if Zoe really does or not. The Emo flashes a cruel smile.

"Indeed I do… but I don't think Primary school children would get the same joy I do out of tormenting the elderly couple that live next door to me…" She returns with a disturbing level of delight and Bianca grimaces. She supposes that she probably ought to have seen that coming.

"Nah… Probably not," She agrees and so they sit there for the next hour and she's giving ideas involving ice cream vans, the park, fair grounds and the seaside. Most of which Zoe brushes aside, occasionally smacking Bianca in the face with a pen or a pencil or anything really for what she deems as a particularly stupid idea.

They part with the familiar goodbyes.

"I hate you, go shag your trackies."

"I hate you more, Bride of Chucky, go shag a corpse."

It's as polite as it can get and Bianca has no fucking idea why she's just wasted her time on Zoe of all people...


She hears a knock on her front door and is instantly suspicious.
She stares at it with narrowed eyes before making a cautious approach because people only knock on a St Trinians girl's door for one of three reasons; If they're drunk and need a place to crash, if someone is dead or they think someone is dead (terrible misunderstanding that one) and lastly, if it's the police and they're feeling courteous enough not to bash your door down without making an attempt to get your attention by other means.
None of those reasons are particularly good, especially not the last one because fucking Hell, doors aren't cheap, and so Bianca approaches with careful steps over her wooden floor, avoiding the creaking boards. She puts her ear to beside the worn paint for a moment, spending a brief moment to feel marginally pissed that somebody would paint solid oak because seriously, why the fuck would you do that?

Her contemplation is ruined by a fist smacking into it and she yelps, recoiling into a cabinet and she fumbles to catch the empty fruit-bowl sliding off it before it can hit the floor.
She scowls over at the door accusingly as she places the bowl back down with more force than strictly necessary, which is to say, a lot.

"Open up, idiot!"

"Aw fucking Hell…" Bianca growls, recognising the voice and she takes a breath to steady her jumpy nerves then wrenches the door open and instantly glowers across at Zoe who clearly does not give a shit about how irritated Bianca is. She never did give a shit so why should she now?
She's lounging against the wall opposite with her arms folded casually and she is looking at Bianca in that way that makes her feel stupid (again) and pisses her off to no end (as per usual).
"What are you doin' here? How do you know where I live?!" She demands.

"Taylor told Andrea. Andrea told me," Zoe shrugs casually.

"... What do you want then?" Bianca mutters and Zoe glares at her icily.

"Stop being such a prat and I'll tell you," She snaps and Bianca's hand clenches into a fist around the door-frame, fighting the urge to send it into Zoe's face, and she forces herself to wait. "I heard your girlfriend moved out."

"… Yeah?" Bianca deadpans. It kind of crashed and burned that one did. She isn't very broken up about it though. The girl was too demanding, too much a perfectionist... too much full stop really.

"Well, I also heard you were having trouble with the bills," Zoe continues smoothly.

"Who tells you all this shit?!"

"Taylor tells Andrea and-" Zoe starts.

"Andrea tells you. Yeah. Got it. Lesson learned. Don't tell Taylor anything," Bianca interrupts irritably, rolling her eyes. "That don't explain why you're 'ere."

"I was wondering if you wanted move in with me."

Bianca blinks. Zoe says it like it's nothing but of course it is because they were hated rivals at St T's… Well, maybe hate is a tiny bit strong but it was a powerful sense of loathing all the same and that kind of animosity doesn't just vanish.

"… Why?" Bianca questions suspiciously and Zoe huffs at the tone.

"I could do with a hand myself. I'm always a bit short and I need a room mate… You seemed logical."

"Me? Logical? After all the shit at St Ts?" Bianca says with a pointed look.

"… Well, who the fuck else am I going to ask?" Zoe returns with a shrug and Bianca could probably give her that except for one glaring point.

"Literally, anybody else on the planet. There is not a single hope in this world of me not throttlin' in ya' in your sleep if I were to live with ya'..." She says quite seriously and Zoe thinks for a moment, appearing to chew this over before she smirks.

"You could certainly try to," She returns with a challenging edge in her tone and Bianca grits her teeth.

"I'm already strugglin' not kill ya' now. Zoe, if I lived with you, there is at least... a one hundred per cent chance of you ending up dead," She replies.

"You can't get any percentage higher than one hundred, chav."

"I could get two hundred if I decided revive ya' jus' to throttle ya' again," Bianca retorts instantly and Zoe quirks a brow, a gleam of something in her eyes which might be respect but probably isn't because this is Zoe.

"Huh. Wow. You've actually developed some brains."

"Huh. Wow. You've actually lost your marbles," Bianca returns with a dark look and Zoe sighs, rolling her eyes yet again as she pushes off from the wall behind her and steps up to Bianca to stand way too close in her space for her liking. It's way too invasive and she's stood so close that Bianca can smell her.
Oddly enough, she smells of cinnamon and coffee and not even a hint of l'eau de death.
She isn't sure what's more disturbing, that Zoe doesn't smell like a morgue or the idea of Zoe actually smelling like a morgue.

The Emo pulls a business card from the top pocket of her chequered shirt then twirls it around her fingers smoothly like she's done it a million times before she tucks it neatly into the front right pocket of Bianca's Nike sweatpants.

"Probably," Zoe says and it takes Bianca a moment to figure out what her words were a response to because she's still smelling cinnamon and coffee and her leg's tingling where the card grazed her skin through the cotton.
But then she blinks out of it and looks down at the Emo, feeling a certain smugness that she's still noticeably taller than her.

She folds her arms across her chest.

Zoe looks up at her then smirks and it's dark and sly. Bianca has never and will never trust that look, it only leads to bad things.

"Call me when you're poor and desperate and maybe we can figure something out," Zoe says mockingly and Bianca's teeth are pressed together so tightly that her jaw aches as she watches Zoe take a sweeping step back from her.

She fights the urge to squirm when Zoe looks her up and down, eyeing her critically before turns on her heel and walks off without so much as a backwards glance.

"... Bitch..." Bianca spits venomously before letting her arms unfold and she stalks back into her apartment to go and pummel her punch-bag and imagine it's Zoe's smug nasty Emo face.

She spots the stack of bills piling up on the dresser and suddenly, Zoe's business card is burning a hole in her pocket and Bianca wants it gone.

She screws it up and throws it out her bedroom window before she can even begin to consider it.

She isn't going to stoop that low.

She won't let herself.

Because if she does then Zoe wins and she's never going to willingly let Zoe win anything.

Ever.


A/N: If/when I update this, it'll probably be in about a year from now because I don't write lengthy stories too well and this story is, as planned in my head, quite lengthy. Zoe and Bianca have a long way to go but maybe I'll pick this up better when I'm a more confident writer.
Anywho, let me know what you think.