A.N. Okayyyyy XD Arr, you don't even wanna know what kind of a mood im in. Theres just way too much going on atm, most of it not very nice stuff, so im taking a little break – having an outlet I guess X).

Okay, on , there are some AMAZING people who review everything you do, and let you know an honest opinion of what you have written. Some of these people go the extra mile and give you inspiration by making requests or suggestions. One of these people is the lovely Natalie XD.

Natalie has wrote for Harry Potter and Twilight (and maybe some other stuff too, im not sure) but she reads my Shameless stuff, which she is always lovely about, and had the heart to ask me to do a multi-chapter progression of the relationship between Mickey and Ian. Im not sure this is going to be exactly that, but this little idea came into my head to have each chapter as a lyric from "Make This Go On Forever" by Snow Patrol, due to the fact I bought an album with all the songs they've had up to know. You know the one I mean? Ah well. Oh… and its set, likee, now XD. With them as friends sharing the bungalow.

Speaking of which, the bungalow! If you've been reading my other stuff, you probably think im completely thick for one reason more than others – I keep putting stairs in a bungalow! Yes, I do know most bungalows don't have stairs, but I had the picture of my great grandmas old place. You walked through the door, and on your left was the living room. On your right was the kitchen. In front of you, were the stairs. There were only about two, and that's where the bedrooms/bathroom were… technically, it still classed as a bungalow… so I apologise for any confusion!

AnyyyHOO! Im going to keep the chapters of this short as its my first multi-chapter Shameless fic, and though I am usually the kind of girl to throw myself in at the deep end and take on the most ridiculous of challenges… im going to play it safe here. Theres just too much going on!

I apologise if this isn't up to scratch, but I hope you enjoy XD.

19:30. Knock knock. "Ian, please talk to me."

19:35. Knock knock. "Ian, pleaseee."

19:40. Knock knock. "You cant stay in there forever."

19:45. Knock knock. "Im sitting outside the door, Ian."

19:50. "Im not moving until you let me in or you come out and talk to me."

19:55. "Look, the only Gallagher that could stay in a bathroom all night is Frank… even he would have a job of it, I doubt he keeps beer in the bathroom."

20:00. "Mind you, it is Frank. Theres probably god knows what in there."

20:05 "Ha! Know what I just realised? Talk to Frank… ha! Maybe not, eh?"

20:10. "Oh, come on, that was supposed to be funny."

20:15. "Youre not hurt, are you? Knock against the door if youre ok. I know that you are sat there, I can hear you breathing." Knock knock. "Well thank fuck for that."

20:20. A piece of toilet paper slid under the door, with a message scrawled in eyeliner… another sign of Ians insistence not to talk to Mickey. It read: How did you know that was my breathing?

"Because I know youre breathing better than I know my own. Do you realise how many times you have fallen asleep on me when we watch a film or something in the living room? It would be so frustrating… except I love to watch you sleep. You breathe amazingly. That's sounds weird, I know… but you do. Your chest rises and falls, but not like most peoples… it has this rhythm to it, more like a rippling wave than a simple rise and fall. I know I cant see your chest now, but I can hear the noise you make. When your happy, it has this slight humming – almost like your giggling under your breath. Maybe you are, I don't know. And when your sad – and I mean, really sad like now, not sad like 'oh god, I burnt the pasta!' like last night – it sounds more hitched, like your wearing some invisible corset that's restricting your breathing. It has this surprised gasp that rings out occasionally. Like right this second."

Behind the door, Ian smiled slightly. But he was still too devastated at what Mickey had done.

20:25. "I meant what I said."


Mickey stormed into the restaurant Ian and James were currently occupying. James and Ian had been friends since primary school, and when James recently came out as gay, Ian took him out for a drink. Since then, somewhere along the line, they had become a couple. And despite being – for all intents and purposes – his best friend, Mickey Maguire was having none of it.

"Mickey, what are you doing here?"

"You cant go out with him! Ian, you just cant!"

"What, why not?"

"Because… hes a knob! And because I love you, he doesn't. he probably just wants some quick fuck and then he will cast you to one side like a used tissue. I wouldn't. Why cant it ever be me?"

"Why cant what ever be you?"

"The guy you want! The one you choose to spend your time with, the one you choose to love. Why not me?"

With that, James had left the restaurant, leaving Ian there to take everything in. and from what his temporarily frazzled mind could take in and process… Mickey had just screwed up his date. That is when he left.

20:30. Another piece of toilet paper, again with black scribblings of Ians eyeliner. This time it read: Which part?

"All of it! But mostly, that bit about him not loving you like I do. I mean, come on. You've known the guy your entire life… you've known me a matter of years. But what can he honestly tell you about yourself that I couldn't? Nothing, ill bet. And if there is anything, it would be completely insignificant. What could I tell you about yourself that he couldn't? A lot. Important stuff."

Ian smiled again.

"I know you Ian. I known everything you think, everything you dream. Everything you hope and aspire to be. Everything you've done, everything youre going to do. Everything you like and everything you hate."

The eyeliner snapped in Ians fingers. He hadn't even realised that his overwhelming emotions had him twiddling it in his palms.

" I know that sometimes you worry about Frank. Not just health wise, but about your relationship. You always say you don't care about him, but you do, youre scared he doesn't love you as much as the other kids. But he does Ian. Stellas middle name is Ianna – that was no accident. I know that every Wednesday night you dream about Sherwyn Huntley – some rich guy from flipping medieval times or something, coz Lip told you a nightmare about him when you were younger. You still wake up with cold sweats at precisely 03:16 on a Wednesday night and it always takes you exactly 12 minutes to fall asleep again. Did you ever tell me that? No. I just know."

Ian could have cried. Mickey knew him. Really knew him. He had never bothered to think that some people may know him better than he had originally planned. Most of all Mickey – the one person he tried to block out.

"I know that you hope Fiona and Steve will come back. Not the whole missing them thing – I mean you do, obviously, but that's not what it is. Its because no matter how much faith you have in Debbie and Carl and Maxine, and that small amount of trust you place in Frank, you know that Fiona would bring them all crashing back to reality. Be a mother to them again. But then you damn yourself for thinking like that. Because you know she needs a life of her own. I know that one day you want to work as an event organiser. You would adore organising Glastonbury or something similar one year. I know that when you were 11, on one windy Friday morning in March you had a fight with Robbie Simpson because he not only was the first one to tell you your mum was gay, but he also slagged off Fiona and Lip. You never like to talk about that because it was the only time you have ever displayed violence for a real reason, and the pain still stings. But I can help soothe it."

Okay, he really was crying now, the left side of his body leaned against the door as he was sat of the floor. His right hand raised and placed itself on the door, his fingers splayed our. He had a funny feeling Mickey's was doing the same thing. It was.

"I know that youre going to Birmingham next month. Spending a week with that Anna girl who ripped off our Shane. Don't worry, I wont tell him. I know youre planning to take her and her daughter – your goddaughter – to a park where youre going to give Anna some money you have saved up. So that she can buy a proper place for her and the baby instead of that squat she is staying in. I know that you like sliced pickles on chocolate – which is minging by the way, I tried it – and you hate cherry flavoured ice cream – which is also rather strange of you, its lovely. See what I mean?"

You know me. Ian involuntarily realised that he had stopped gasping. Damn Mickey, pointing that out.

"Now, come on, open the door. You can lock yourself in our bathroom if you want, just not the bloody toilets of The Jockey. Youll catch something."

Ian didn't bother to cover his loud laugh. He had forgotten where he was for a moment. He opened the door.

"Ok, ill come home, and im talking to you. But im still extremely mad at you. You have to make it up to me. And you have to phone James and set up another date for us. Or no deal."


A.N. That's longer than it was gunna be, actually! Mostly due to that ridiculously long note at the beginning! Oh well. Enjoy it so far? If you know the song, you know that things wont be worked out so quickly… oh dear. Don't you love that bit about the nightmare? Sherwyn Huntley (although you should already know this) is from All Is Not Enough by Meg Hutchinson, which is my favourite book XD Urgh, he is evil! But that nightmare thing is about me, I do have a nightmare about one person in particular always on a Wednesday night, I wake up at 03:16 and it always takes me 12 mins lolz… just in case you wondered where I got it from XD Anyway, let me know what you think!