Chapter 1 - Tommy

'Happy Birthday'

What did that even mean? Congratulations on getting older? Congratulations on not dying? On not letting your father drag you down some twisted revenge fuelled tirade with him? Congratulations on another year disappointing everyone you ever cared about by doing the right thing? And it was the right thing wasn't it? His father was so deep in denial it was making him delusional and his brother was so full of anger he couldn't think straight. Both of them so full of hate for everyone around them and for him that they had no idea the ways in which he protected them. The lying he did to keep their shit off of the ICC radar wasn't easy. The bank job was more luck than skill and Hickman hadn't forgotten it he could see it in the way he looked at him every time his family came up in conversation, which was surprisingly often. You could take the boy from the camp but you couldn't take the camp from the boy. Maybe it was desperation or frustration or stupidity but whatever it was that pushed them they'd antagonised Lennon and he was a man as determined to see their eradication as they were to see his. Two bulls running straight for one another and who did they think was going to have to pick up the pieces? Tommy of course. He'd deliver the bad news to his mother and his sister in law and they'd spit on him and curse him out like it was his fault. Like they hadn't seen any of this coming. Tommy bent the fork in his hand.

Eva's cupcake sat innocently on the plate unaware of the tumult of thoughts circling his brain tying his stomach in knots. Even this cake came with emotional baggage though Eva would object.
"It's fine," she'd assure him with her lips "it's just a cake." But her eyes would dip for a second in disappointment.
"Just a cake my arse." Tommy grumbled. He leant against the counter staring down at the cake. It was supposed to be a cupcake but it looked more like the love child of a cake and a bloated muffin. There was nothing cup about it. Bowl cake, maybe. Perhaps he should just enjoy it while he could. This was likely his last year on earth especially if he was forced to head back to London any time soon. The bounty on his head had been a surprise but not as surprising as the hurt Tommy felt when he found out. He wasn't a child any more, he didn't harbour any illusions that he was going to be able to walk back to his family and have all forgiven but it was one thing to know your family hated you, it was another to know that the man he'd once idolised wanted him dead. There was no coming back from the grave. He'd been a dead man before and he was going to be doubly dead now because he'd been forced to commit the cardinal sin of informing on his family. He stuck the fork into the cake. He was angry. So angry that he was once again robbed of choice. Between a rock and a hard place, that's where he lived now. His father thought he got his softness from his mother but asking him to permanently alienate himself, to put himself in danger from them, for them was coldness disguised as caring. If his father thought she still wished for his safe return he could think again. She asked him to sacrifice himself for them knowing he'd never be able to refuse because even if they didn't love him he loved them. He closed his eyes feeling so tired now. So tired of all the shit he couldn't control or change. He was tired of being forced to confront the mess that was his past but never being able to untangle it and find some closure. Why couldn't life be a tv show or a book where every bad thing eventually lead to a happy ending. Hell he didn't even need a happy ending just an ending of some kind, a way to securely close the door on his past.

Happy birthday indeed. Welcome to another year of carrying the McConnel tragedies on your shoulders.

Tommy scooped some cake up and shoved it in his mouth. It tasted good. He didn't know Eva could bake. Despite the twisting inside of him he found a smile.

There was a thud then rhythmic clicks across the floor.
As if summoned by thought alone Eva appeared in the doorway.

"What are you still doing here?" she spoke impeccable English but the accent laced every word. His language sounded romantic coming out of her mouth.

Tommy swallowed and tilted the cake plate. The smile turned sheepish "Eating birthday cake."

Eva gave him a long look "I thought you didn't do birthdays?" She replied teasingly.

"I don't but you made this cake for me and Sebastian and Arabela told me that it was rude of me not to." Eva frowned at him "I appreciate the cake." he took another bite to prove it.

"That's okay." She replied uncertainly.

"I didn't mean to offend you or hurt your feelings by not eating it." he concluded.

As he expected she shrugged and said "It's fine, it's just a cake." her frown smoothed out and a gentle smile played on her full lips.
Tommy's eyes dipped to her mouth. He didn't know when it had started but his eyes looked at her lips a lot. When she talked, when she didn't, when she chewed the end of her pen, when she chewed on her lip or pursed them, especially when she pursed them. He hadn't worried about it before. She was an attractive Italian woman, he was a red blooded Irish male it was basic human instinct. But for some reason standing in this kitchen just the two of them a strange trepidation over took him.

"I didn't know you could cook."

Eva smiled coyly. Tommy watched her lips. "I'm Italian it's a required skill even for the daughter of a gangster." She joked.
He envied the ease of her joking. Tommy made smart arse remarks about his life all the time but they always sounded as bitter as he felt. When Eva joked it sounded like she was at peace with it, like she was saying 'here is something I was part of but I'm not in it anymore so I can make a joke'. Maybe he needed to take a leaf out of her book and just lighten up. He was 30 now after all perhaps it was time to act less like an angry teenager and more like an adult ICC officer.

"I had heard something to that effect." He grinned. "Do you want some?" He proffered the fork with a bit of cake on it.

"No you finish it, it is your birthday after all."

"Well not any more it's not. And to be honest if this is what birthdays are like I'd rather not in future."

Eva stepped into the kitchen and leant against the fridge "Why do you hate your birthday so much?"

Tommy looked down his gaze fixed on her shiny heeled boots. "I spent much of the afternoon locked in a cell with my da where he kicked the shite out of me. I may be Irish but that's not my idea of a party...at least not any more."

"Today was extreme," she agreed with a soft musical laugh.

"Besides around my house a birthday just meant you were one year closer to be tried as an adult for any and all offences they wanted to pin on you."

Eva had a kind empathetic heart. Best of all she wasn't shy about it. Her capacity for sympathy astounded Tommy. Instead of criminals or victims worth pity she saw people to try and understand. Sure she didn't always succeed but she found worth in trying. It was because of this soft heart forever reaching out to others that Eva's smile turned pitying. Tommy instantly loathed it. "Ah don't look at me like that," he strove to keep his tone easy, "I might not be little Tommy McConnel anymore but the whole birthday celebration thing, I just never got into it."

Eva cocked her head to the side, "That's a shame." Tommy shrugged. It was how it was. "I like birthdays."

"Oh yeah?" Tommy shoved another bit of cake in his mouth.

"Yeah. Presents and cards for one, but then plans with friends. Going out and partying."

Eva in a flirty little dress and stiletto heels made for teetering. Tommy had a hard time picturing it, and then he did, and then he wished he hadn't because it was inappropriate to imagine the bare legs of your colleague.

"You? Party? I'd never have guessed it."

She gave him a sassy look, her lips pursed and a single brow raised in daring. "I can party."

Tommy locked eyes with her. "You'll have to show me that some time." his words were loaded.

Eva blushed diverting hers to the ground. So she felt it too huh? Tommy latched onto that. Her lashes were long and dark fanning out against the pink of her cheeks. "Maybe I will." she mumbled into the floor.

Tommy put the plate down on the side half the cake still crumbling. It was good but it was too much sugar all in one go.

In a smaller voice Eva asked "Why does Lennon hate you so much?"

Tommy sighed his smile fading, the heat of potential passions cooling. Lennon. There was another reason to stay away from home, a voluntary reason not that it made him feel any better than his banishment from a home he hadn't known in decades but would never know now so long as he lived. Tommy tried not to feel fear or at least he tried to redirect it into something more active but when he thought about how alone he was now he felt an ice cold slice of terror spear him through the middle freezing every cell inside of his body. Panic gripped his heart forcing it into overdrive. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

"Because I'm Irish." he replied when he thought his voice wouldn't waver.

She gave him a skeptical look, "Is that it?"

"The Irish and the English have a complicated history."

"Because of the IRA?"

Tommy nodded. "He thinks my kind are terrorists."

"Your kind?"

"Irish travellers." Tinkers, Pikeys, Travellers. All words used to conveniently villainize a group of people who otherwise did not deserve it. Lennon was dogged in his vehement hate for the McConnels and all those he deemed like them - which was every Irish settler in and around the London borough. Hell maybe even every Irish person.

"You are not a traveller though." she replied thoughtfully.

Wasn't he? He'd grown up with them hearing his da's voice in his head, getting into trouble with his brothers. Was he truly so unlike them just because he'd chosen to take his restless spirit and make it legit? He shrugged, "I am and I'm not. It depends on who you ask."

Eva blinked at him that thoughtful expression in her big eyes. Beautiful eyes. Tommy forced himself to behave. He'd been too long without a bed partner that's all this was. Human urges getting in the way of sense. "I don't think you are like them."

"Don't you?" he hadn't meant to snap but by the look on her face his tone had been as sour as he thought. "Sorry it's been a long day."

Eva pushed off the fridge and walked away. She paused at the door, "You coming?"

Tommy frowned, "Where?"

She smiled innocently but there was mischief in her eyes, "For a drink."

He stepped away from the counter, "Normally I would love to but I think I'm going to go home." Home. That was a joke. He had a barely furnished apartment not a home.

"I'm talking about here." Tommy raised a single brow in question. She beckoned him to follow.

The desks were all quiet now, empty and tidy. The place didn't lack personality, there were knick knacks on everyone's desk, forgotten pencils, notebooks askew and one of Sebastian's mascots but everyone was neat. There were no left over case files spilling across keyboards abandoned by someone keen to get out at five on the dot. There were no perp photo's still stuck up on the whiteboard, there was no white board. This was what a base of operations looked like when the majority of your work required you to be in the field in a different country. Tommy didn't feel one way or t'other about it until now. Now it seemed eerie. They were alone but the whole place resembled the arches at Kings Cross station, handy for people to hide behind. He was being paranoid there was nothing to spy on him for. He was just following Eva, they were just talking not exchanging innuendos, or touching, or kissing. Kissing.

Eva stopped at her desk and sat down. Tommy mirrored her craning his head to see what she was searching for. With a flourish she pulled out a bottle of vodka.

"Vodka? I had you more as a wine girl." he laughed.

"What because I am Italian?" she asked sashaying to the kitchen to fetch a pair of glasses. Tommy watched her like a hawk but with none of the cold calculating feeling. He watched her with heat. An unfamiliar, not entirely unwelcome but entirely unadvisable heat. She poured two shots before sitting down. "Bottoms up." she knocked his glass and chucked the shot back.

Tommy grinned at her doing the same. "Surprises surprises Vittoria."

"I like to keep you on your toes McConnel."

"If we do shots all night it won't be my toes you'll have me on."

Eva blushed again but it could have just been the alcohol. "Why does everything you say sound dirty?"

Tommy rolled his chair towards her. His knees knocked into the side of her legs but he didn't move back, his elbow came to rest next to her hand, his level with the crook of her arm. If he moved just a fraction he could grab her arm and bring those watchable lips to his. They'd become kissable lips then. He looked down at them, they were wet where she'd licked them nervously. "It's your mind making it dirty," he repeated in a low voice, "it's the way you think about me."

Eva stared hard into her glass. "You wish." she whispered.

"Maybe." He'd said it before he could stop himself, before he could think better of it. It wasn't even the alcohol, one shot was hardly enough to fell him. Maybe it was fatigue or the empty room and the way they sat in it so close creating a cocoon around them of easy camaraderie and her unspoken understanding of him in this moment. Eva was not without a sense of humour but on a case she had unwavering concentration. She was always determined to do her best to get the bad guy before they got someone else. Her zest for justice was as passionate as his zest for trouble had been. He didn't often get to see Eva playing. He wanted to.

"Tommy." she breathed.

"I know," he replied ruefully, "I'm just playing."

"No it's not-"

"I know," his voice was softer and close this time. "It's a bad idea." but he didn't move back, instead he moved forward just enough to make her gasp.

"We have to work together." she tried to tell him firmly but her voice wavered, just a little but enough to tell him that there was doubt inside of her. Doubt sounded pretty goddamn good right about now. They needed more doubt. His eyes darted to her lips. She wetted them nervously again.

"I know." he sighed, "But you're a beautiful woman."

Eva's head snapped back her expression sharpening. Tommy blinked feeling the chill of the metaphorical ice cold water that had suddenly been dumped over them. "Is that what you think of me?"

Tommy hesitated "That you're a beautiful woman?" he asked confused.

He didn't understand why she looked so upset suddenly.

"Is that all you think of me?"

"What are you talking about? You're fucking beautiful Eva." She cringed at the curse. "Sorry."

"I should go." she capped the bottle and opened the drawer.

"Wait Eva-" Tommy grabbed her arm to stay her.

"I am not a silly little woman McConnel you can't just charm your way into my underwear." she wrested her arm back and shut the door with a smack.

Tommy let out an astounded little laugh as he watched her stand up and take her glass back into the kitchen. "Eva!" he called getting up and striding after her. "I know I can't," he dropped his voice even though they were alone, "charm my way into your knickers." She slammed the glass down into the sink in response. "Eva come on," he begged, "why are you pissed?"

"I am not pissed," she hissed turning to him, her big eyes full of something that looked like struggle and her mouth pursed into a straight lickable line. "I am embarrassed."

Tommy paused, "Why are you embarrassed?"

"Because you think me just another pretty face."

"Thinking you're attractive is a bad thing?" he repeated as bewildered as before.

"I am a police officer, a member of the ICC. I was part of the anti mafia task force back in my home country a title I worked hard to earn and I was almost in danger of-"

"Of what?" he interjected his mouth thinning his shoulders rising up, tension of an entirely different kind pulled his body together.

"Nothing forget it." she gritted with a shake of her head.

"You are confounding!" he gritted walking back to his desk to retrieve his coat. A moment later he strode past the door. "Thanks for the birthday cake!" he called slamming the door behind him.

Happy Birthday indeed.