Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to say I own Sugar Rush, sadly, I don't.

This fic takes place after season two, assuming Saint allowed Sugar to live with her and Kim.


Sugar didn't mean to fall in love with her.

She swears up and down that it happened on accident. Sugar had always loved cock. Big cock, Latino cock, black cock, hell, she'd even screwed guys with little stubbles for dicks. She had always loved everything about men; the way their muscles flexed around her, inside her, the way their faces felt scratchy and uncared for when mashed against her cheeks. She liked how they felt like steel.

But Kim, Kim felt like silk.

And Sugar liked that, too.

She wasn't a rug-muncher. She wasn't. That night in London? Didn't mean anything. At least, this is what Sugar keeps telling herself as she denies her feelings for her best friend and how much she would love to see her naked again. Just once more. But Kim's found Saint and Saint is everything Sugar could never be. She knows that.

Still hurts like fuck, though.

She's not gay. She just wants Kim. Doesn't make her a ruff-diving dyke.

She doesn't know what that makes her. And she's always known who she is. Sugar's always been okay with being a slag because it's something she's always been good at. Sex. Shagging is like a goddamn sport to her.

And she's had sex with Kim. She was Kim's first time and no one - not even perfect, lovely Saint - can take that away from her. But Sugar had her opportunity and she let it slip.

While Kim and Saint wrestle in their bed, Sugar puts her hand inside her pajama pants and touches herself to the sound of Kim's whimpers and moans and everything is going okay until Kim says Saint's name. That really kills the fucking mood. So she just lays there on the couch, listening to them and wondering if they know just how loud they're being.

Sugar had tried to fuck it up for Kim and Saint and had almost succeeded before she accidentally told the truth. It wasn't fair, though, Sugar told herself furiously, over and over. Kim was hers. She had always been hers. Kim belonged to Sugar. Every part of Kim was hers to keep and at night while they make love in the next room, Sugar tries to keep homicidal thoughts from setting her brain on fire. Sugar had always been protective - possessive, even, and every moment she had to spend listening to Kim being pleased by someone else when it should be her drove her bonkers.

It was an accident. Sugar liked men, liked having sex with men, liked being with a nice, strong, steely man.

But Sugar loved Kim's body, soft and smooth, and her lips, careful and sweet. Kim touched her in all the right places, didn't only care about her own pleasure. She was confident and bold while still being slow and kind, kissing Sugar like she was the only girl in the world Kim wanted. And Sugar wasn't used to that. She was used to being a good shag. Sugar had had a lot of sex, but not once in her life before London had she made love.

She wasn't supposed to fall in love with Kim and her silk skin.


"Sugar. Shoogs. Hey. Wake up, cow."


"Slag. Come on, I made breakfast." Kim tucks Sugar's hair behind her ear before prancing off. Sugar grumbles as she opens her eyes, sitting up with a grunt. She watches Kim bounce around the kitchen, happy and bright, her shining green eyes glowing in a way that makes Sugar's cold heart swell.

Sugar finally stumbled into the kitchen and slumped at the table, grumbling about it being too early for this shit despite the clock telling her it was nearly eleven. Kim hums as she sets up a plate for her best friend, the smell of eggs and bacon filling the flat. She sits across from Sugar, crunching at her bacon as Sugar plays with her own, frowning.

"Where's Saint?"

"She's unpacking an early delivery," Kim replies, the mere mention of her girlfriend's name bringing a faint and adoring smile to her face.

Sugar rolls her eyes, taking a careful bite of her eggs. She doesn't dare admit how delicious it is.

"Shoogs? Have you started looking for a place yet?" Kim asks the question very carefully, her voice as soft as she can manage. She knows this is dangerous territory she's stepping in. Sugar hates being reminded of her situation - that being her flat burned down about two weeks ago and has yet to look in the paper for a new one.

"What? Can't stand me here?"

"That's not what I said."

"I'm sorry I'm keeping you from living your perfect little sitcom or whatever." Sugar shoves her plate away and grabs the orange juice, pouring it into the nearest glass. It's Kim's glass, but she doesn't say anything. "I'll be out of here as soon as I can."

"Sugar." Kim waits for her best friend to look up, trying to reassure her with a comforting smile. "Take as long as you need."

Sugar rolls her eyes again. She doesn't need that talk. She knows her presence is screwing things up for Saint and Kim. Maybe that's why she's staying. Kim is hers, after all. "You don't have to lie to make me feel better, Kim."

Kim sighs, her good mood spoiled. She drops her fork and crosses her arms. "I'm not lying. I like having you here."

"Pft, yeah, maybe you do, but Saint hates me."

"She does not. If she did, she would have never agreed to let you stay here."

"Bullocks, Kizza. She's only letting me stay because I'm your friend."

"Then you should be grateful," Kim snaps and the kitchen falls silent for a moment. Sugar takes a long sip of her orange juice, aware that Kim is watching her with that piercing gaze that haunts Sugar's sexually frustrated dreams. "Shoogs, I care about you, okay? You're my best friend. I want you to be happy. And, yeah, things are shit right now for you, but it will get better."

Sugar crosses her arms. "It fucking better," she grumbles, her nails rolling against her forearm. They eat in silence for a while - well, Kim eats, while Sugar gazes hopelessly at her from across the table. "Kim?"


"You said you wanted me to be happy, right?"

"'Course. I'd do anything to make you happy."

"Even if it meant -"

"Yes, Sugar." Kim grins up at her. "Even if it meant my own happiness, as it has a hundred times."

Sugar gnaws the inside of her lip for a moment. What's the worst that could happen if she blurted something else? She could blame it on a hangover. Bad weed. Or she could just blame it on her being Sugar. Sugar does these things. "Even if it meant ... leaving Saint?"

Kim freezes, her fork hovering in mid air. She throws her eyes across the table and the two stare at each other, the room seeming to grow smaller and smaller as they find their feelings in the other's eyes. Kim swallows hard and suddenly her eggs don't taste as brilliant as they did a few minutes ago.

"Shoogs," she says softly, setting her fork down on the table. "It's too late for that."

Sugar sighs, looking away. She chews on her tongue. "Yeah, I figured, thought I'd ask, though." Her chest feels heavy because she knew it was far too late for her to try and have something with Kim. But there's always that small something that says 'Maybe'.

Well, that small something was shutting up now.

"You're in love with her, aren't you, Kizz?" Sugar grins, clicking her tongue as she swigs her orange juice again. And, yeah, it hurts, but at least she tried, and at least Kim's happy. The only reason that Sugar stopped trying to sabotage things for Kim is because she finally realized that other people matter, too.

Kim grins, lovesick. "Yeah. I want to spend - I want to spend the rest of my life with her. But, Jesus, Sugar." She lifts her eyes and Sugar is startled to see that they're full of tears and spilling down her cheeks. "You should have offered me that chance ages ago."

"You offered it to me about a thousand times. I was stupid and didn't take it." Sugar shrugs as if it doesn't matter. "I'm a fucking moron, but at least you got Saint. Saint's really good for you. She's making you happier than I ever could. I'm a fuck up, but Saint can give you this - this pretty flat and she can take care of you like you deserve and -"

"Sugar," Kim chuckles, her eyes still pouring and her face in disbelief. "Are you crying?"

"Shut up, clit-sucker."

"Look, Shoogs." Kim laughs again, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. When she lowers them, Sugar is staring out the window, at the beach not too far away. Kim feels her heart start to flutter like it used to when Sugar was all she had. "Saint is amazing, I'll tell you that. She's everything I want. But, if you had - if you had taken me seriously back then ... when you were all I wanted ..." She faded for a moment, idly twirling a strand of hair. "Then I'd be just as happy with you as I am now."

"Liar. I'm a dirty whore."

"You are not. You were the woman of my dreams." Kim smiles, closing her eyes and allowing pictures of their escapade in London flash back to her.

"And now? What am I now?"

"Now, you're my best friend, and you mean more to me than anyone else." Kim leveled her gaze on her again, watching as Sugar hastily wiped away a tear trying to escape. "I'd die without you, Shoogs."

Sugar took a deep breath and stood. "You're damn right you would," she says, trying to be cocky like usual, but her voice is soft and far away.

Kim watches her in awe. She had always seen the beauty that no one else saw in Sugar. But she couldn't be with her now. She loves Saint. And it sucks to say that Sugar fucked up, but she had. She had fucked up what could have been something amazing. There wasn't a point going on about it now, though. Kim had made it a point to move forward and not look back.

"I love you, Shoogs."

"I love you too, Kizza." She wiped at her eyes again and whipped around, stalking toward the bathroom. "I've got to get my nasty arse in the shower, I fucking reek." She disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door. Surprisingly, she didn't cry. She thought she would, but actually, she felt better. Yeah, she was in love with Kim. Probably irrevocably in love with her, even. But that meant that Sugar was capable of loving, which was something she figured couldn't be done.

Falling in love with Kim was an accident and it happened too late for Sugar to do anything about it. She was okay with that, though, because Sugar knew you only lived once and, what, some old bloke said it, didn't he? It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.