A/N: Deep dive into the final episode of season 8. Scenes from the actual show plus some extra ones :)

Part Four.

2012.

The news that Mickey was looking for a retirement fund did not surprise Ash as much as it would Sean and Emma. He'd noticed his old friend getting jaded for a while, and although he'd never discussed it with Albert, he was sure the roper had seen it too. They knew Mickey best, after all. Ash was willing to follow his lead in every job, and said as much, but he couldn't deny that he was wary. Going against the mafia was one thing, but Madani Wasam was in a class of his own. Everything in him was screaming that they should steer away from such a mark, but he knew Mickey wouldn't do it. He thrived for the challenge too much. Ash just held on to his faith that the great Mickey Bricks would be his usual brilliant self.

That said, Ash was valued for his honesty, and he let Mickey know what he thought, even when the mark was due in their fake office at any moment.

His phone chirped, and he answered it. "Yeah?"

"He's here," Sean's voice said, "but he's got some bird with him."

"What bird?" Ash asked him, trying not to sigh wearily. The plan was too delicate for surprises, particularly unknown personnel.

"I dunno. Fit."

"Yeah, 'fit' doesn't 'elp, Sean. Any clues who she is, what she does?"

"She's not wearing a bloody name tag, Ash," Sean argued, starting to sound panicked. "Do I stall them?"

"No, no, it's okay. Send them up." He hung up and glanced between Mickey, Albert and Emma. "Positions."

Emma nodded and headed for the front desk. Before long, there came the sound of footsteps in the corridor, and Emma was cheerily greeting the mark and his party. Mickey started giving clear, vocal reassurances to Albert's character right on cue as she approached. They looked up and froze. At Mickey's uncharacteristic silence, Ash looked up too. His heart jolted, and he felt his coffee cup slip right out of his hand, crashing to the desk in front of him.

Stacie stood at Wasam's side, and she looked just as shocked. Ash swallowed hard, realising that her appearance wasn't by design. She had returned to London, but hadn't come to find him. And now she stood in the midst of very dangerous men. All his apprehension returned tenfold, but now he was afraid for her rather than himself.

The best thing any of them could do was stay in character, and fortunately Ash was supposed to be in William Cole's bad books. As Mickey yelled at him for the coffee spill, he retreated back to reception with Emma and Wasam's henchmen, shoving his personal thoughts aside in order to concentrate on spinning his tale of job dissatisfaction to Wasam's right-hand man, Barir.

After Mickey had successfully pissed off one of the most volatile marks they'd ever had, Stacie left with Wasam's party, shooting them an alarmed look as Wasam spat threats. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Ash watched her get in the car, barely listening as Mickey quickly filled Emma in on who Stacie was. His phone vibrated, and he tugged it out of his pocket, reading the text.

Play it vague, I'll explain everything later – S.

He closed his eyes briefly, troubled, and sighed.

You'd better have a good explanation, Stace, he thought to himself.

Stacie tapped her foot, impatiently staring at the door. She'd hurried to Eddie's as soon as she could, and had been greeted with genuine affection by the long-suffering barman. After a hug and a quick update, she'd settled into a booth to wait for the others. It was proving to be a long, painful interval.

Finally, however, the familiar figures appeared in the door, and Mickey headed over wearing a grin. She leapt up to hug him, immediately teasing him about the look on his face, and kissed his cheek. She'd been pretty single-minded in her thoughts while planning her return, but she couldn't deny that she'd missed him too.

Ash was right behind him, and she threw herself into his arms without over-analysing anything. There would be time to talk privately later. For now, she had to act natural.

"Hello, darling," he greeted her, and she felt her cheeks flush. "Long time."

Stacie just laughed, embarrassed by her schoolgirl reaction, and hurried over to greet Albert, who peered at her knowingly before wrapping her in a hug.

"You look magnificent and you feel even better," Albert teased her, and she sent him a mildly scolding look.

"Stacie, this is Emma and Sean Kennedy," Mickey introduced.

"Hi," Emma said, offering her a hand to shake.

Stacie smiled at her, trying to tell her in a glance that her guarded tone was unnecessary.

"Hello," she said, shaking Sean's hand. "Ash has told me all about you."

Ash's smile widened as she risked sending him a glance, and she quickly turned her attention to Mickey.

"He called occasionally," Stacie said pointedly, even if 'occasionally' was rather an understatement.

"Yeah, well," Mickey said, uncomfortable. "I'm not good with small talk."

"Yes, so I noticed," she replied, her light tone letting him know that there were no hard feelings.

"Where's Danny?" Ash asked, even though he knew damned well. She'd updated him a mere month before.

Still, for the benefit of the others, she relayed the story of Danny and the cocktail waitress…and the cocktail waitress's husband. Ash raised his eyebrows at her as she told it, smirking at hearing her tell a story he'd already heard, no doubt.

"Last I heard they were heading for Vegas," she wrapped up. "Apparently Danny had a plan."

"Yeah, I'll bet he did," Mickey said.

"Okay," Ash spoke up, drawing her attention, "so how long you been back, why didn't you tell us you were coming, and how long are you staying?"

She nearly faltered in the face of his justified questions. She deserved to be in the firing line, and she didn't blame him, but still…she needed to deal with those topics privately.

"A girl can't answer that many questions without a drink," she bluffed, stepping towards the bar.

He smiled but said nothing, perhaps feeling that he'd punished her enough.

The six of them lined up at the bar, catching each other up on everything they knew about Wasam. Stacie gave her honest opinions, which sounded an awful lot like warnings. When she'd approached him to work as a broker, she hadn't known exactly what she was getting herself into. If she hadn't run into Ash and Mickey when she had, she'd probably have considered walking away. But now…she wanted to hear the plan, particularly which part of it included getting Wasam so furious he'd barely spoken a word to anyone for a full ten minutes after leaving William Cole's office.

After he and Mickey explained the basics of the scam, Ash received a phone call, revealing his role in the convincer. He was playing the dissatisfied PA who would leak the boss's secrets. It was a role that had been used time and time again, but Stacie felt a jolt of fear, unsure what Wasam would do to persuade him to part with his information. Spending time at the unpredictable man's side had given her a healthy wariness for what he was capable of.

"He wants to meet in an hour," Ash reported, hanging up.

"Good," Mickey said with a nod. "We'll get a car, I'll drive you. Best get changed."

Ash nodded back to him, shooting Stacie a glance before leaving the bar.

"Be careful," she said to him, knowing he'd hear the edge of worry in her voice.

He actually winked at her. "Promise."

She tempered her smile, sipping her drink, reminding herself yet again that there would be time to talk later, when he got back.

While Mickey and Ash were gone, the others took Stacie back to the penthouse, where she spent most of her time getting to know Sean and Emma. She was curious about them, not just because of Mickey's admiration for Emma, but because she knew Ash had come to care deeply about both of them. Emma still seemed cautious of her, although her manner was friendly. Sean casually flirted, but it was nothing compared to some of the remarks she'd received from Danny over the years, and she brushed them off easily. He seemed nice enough, but she'd never liked younger men.

Despite the small talk, there was an air of tension over the room. They were all simply waiting for Ash and Mickey to return. When they did, it was with a disgruntled Mickey, and a bruised and bloodied Ash.

"Oh my god, Ash!" Stacie leapt to her feet at the same time as the others, and hurried across to ease his battered form onto one of the barstools. "Do you have an ice pack?" she asked Sean, who responded by fishing it out of the freezer and handing it to her.

Emma quickly poured out a generous scotch, offering it with a supportive hand to Ash's shoulder. Stacie wrapped the ice pack in a tea towel and pressed it to the lump swelling on his brow.

Ash glanced between Emma on his right and Stacie on his left, and huffed a small laugh. "Blimey, I could get used to this."

"Don't joke," Stacie scolded him. "What happened?"

"Nothing we didn't expect," Ash reported. "Couldn't make it too easy for him, could I?"

"Yes, you could," Mickey put in, pacing with an intensely thoughtful look on his face. "We knew he was a bully."

"We're exactly where we wanted to be," Ash argued calmly, accepting the scotch from Emma. "And I'll be fine. I've 'ad worse." He took a sip, hissing as the liquid hit his split lip. But he nodded his thanks to her, and she retreated with a pat to his shoulder.

Stacie felt her phone vibrate, and she tugged it out of her pocket, reading the text.

"Wasam's car will pick me up at eight-thirty," she reported. "So I think we can be pretty sure that he'll be at your office as early as possible."

"Good," Mickey said. "So tomorrow he blackmails me. I cave and tell him we can set up for the following day. Then it's all over."

"You make it sound so simple," Emma said with a sigh.

"With enough planning, it will be."

While Emma went on to question his confidence, Stacie turned her attention back to Ash, gently lifting the ice pack to peer at the wound underneath it.

"Swelling's going down," she told him.

He looked up at her, meeting her gaze. "I'll be fine," he said quietly.

She managed a brief imitation of a smile, struck by the gravity of the situation. A few years ago she'd have been teasing him once her initial worry passed, but she didn't have the stomach for it. The thought of them messing with Wasam scared her, plain and simple. Stacie wasn't used to that. She'd been scared by very little in her life. Perhaps it was just a side effect of getting older, grifting too long.

"Ash…" she began, voice barely above a whisper.

"Stacie?"

Mickey caught her attention, and she accepted the lesson in patience. The group spent the evening chatting, with Mickey and Albert demanding all the gossip they'd missed, and then catching her up on things that Ash's phone calls hadn't covered. It was a pleasant evening, but Stacie found her attention divided; half of it focused on the conversation, half of it painfully aware of Ash on the other side of the room, and the very loud silence between them. Finally, however, Albert retired to bed, which kick-started everyone else's movements.

"Did you want to crash here?" Mickey asked her. "You could take my room if you want it."

Stacie had her hotel room to go to, but the thought of going back there while everyone else was at the penthouse made her feel strangely lonely.

"I'll stay," she told him, "but don't give up your room. The sofa's comfy, and I'm going to have to sneak out early anyway to get ready for Wasam."

Mickey was a gentleman, but also someone who knew better than to argue with her stubbornness. "If you're sure."

"I am, thanks. Good night."

A chorus of good nights floated back at her, and she watched Emma and Sean file out, followed by Mickey, who paused and turned.

"I'll get you a blanket."

"I'll get it," Ash spoke up, getting to his feet. "I need a glass of water and some painkillers anyway."

Mickey handed over blanket responsibility with a nod, disappearing around the corner. There came the click of three doors closing, and she and Ash were finally alone.

"Be right back," Ash said before heading off.

Stacie settled into the sofa cushions, then changed her mind and stood up, moving across the room on her socked feet to fetch two glasses of water. The group had shared a few bottles of wine over a takeaway, but she wanted to avoid further alcohol. They'd all need clear heads in the days to come.

When Ash returned with an armful of fabric, she smiled her thanks, carrying the glasses over to the lounge section of the penthouse's open-plan living area. He didn't set the blanket down on the sofa, however, but carried it out to the glass-enclosed balcony that lined one side of the room. Curious, she followed him out, and he slid the door closed behind them, shutting them into the long, narrow room.

"Privacy," he explained succinctly.

"Oh."

Ash gestured her to a small sofa and she took a seat, taking in the impressive view of London at night. He joined her and threw the blanket across their knees, countering the chill that seeped in through the windows. Stacie smiled, handing him one of the glasses.

"Did you find painkillers?"

"I'll take 'em later. They make me drowsy."

"Are you very sore?"

"Sore enough," he said matter-of-factly. "I couldn't wear padding, they'd 'ave seen right through that."

"Oh, Ash."

"It's the risks of the job, innit?"

She couldn't argue with that, although she hated it. She took a sip of her drink before setting it down on the floor, and studied him in the glow of London's lights. He sensed her gaze at once, turning to meet it.

"Seeing you again didn't quite go as I planned," she admitted.

"I figured. You looked just as surprised as we were."

"I was. I suppose it's a testament to your work that I didn't spot that William Cole wasn't real."

"You would 'ave if you'd seen the magazine we mocked up for Wasam."

She chuckled faintly. "Did Mickey do his poster-boy smile?"

"Yeah, all teeth."

She laughed, then sobered, playing back their reunion in her mind. Mickey and Albert, masking their startled expressions superbly…Ash's look of shock, the coffee slipping from his grasp…

When you see me again, know that I'm coming back for you.

Her own words mocked her as she saw Ash take in her surprise at seeing him, saw the comprehension as he realised she hadn't intended to. The well-hidden confusion and hurt that followed. And he'd had to wait most of a day for an explanation.

"Ash, I…I didn't intend to see you again like this, but that doesn't mean I didn't intend to eventually. I meant what I said on the phone."

His face relaxed a touch, but he hadn't let his guard down entirely. "I wondered if you'd changed your mind." The words were carefully casual.

"No," she said at once. "No, definitely not. I just…wanted to get a feel for London again before I found you, maybe make some extra money in the process. It was my way of acclimatising. I only landed four days ago."

Ash exhaled, seeming to expel some of the tension that he'd carried since they'd been reunited. "Well, you picked one 'ell of a boss."

"I know. If I'd had more time, I could've done more research, but as it is…" She shrugged. "I think it was meant to happen this way. You need someone on the inside. The man's mood swings are completely unpredictable."

"I don't like it, Stace," he stated. "You with 'im and no back-up."

"I can handle it. Besides, I don't like what he did to you. I need to help you take him just for that."

"It's just bruises."

"It's the principle," she argued. "You helped me get Jake, remember?"

He was silent for a while, face seemingly caught between puzzlement and laughter. "How is that the same?" he asked her, the amusement colouring his voice. "I would never 'ave married Wasam. Unless I was very, very drunk."

"It's not the marriage part that matters," she retorted, playfully nudging his arm with hers. "It's the 'paying someone back for something bad they did' part."

He didn't argue with her, but she sensed he didn't see it in the same way she did.

"I know neither of our marriages turned out how we expected," she said, contemplating, "but at least yours was amicable."

"June and I were lucky," Ash commented, setting his glass on the floor then settling back with a brief wince of pain. "We got married at exactly the right time, and we got divorced at exactly the right time. Let us stay good friends."

"She's lucky to have you."

"And you."

She peered at him curiously, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Well," he explained, "without you lot, I'd never be able to pay her hospital bills."

"Oh. I hadn't thought of it that way," she admitted. "But you know we'd all chip in if need be."

He assured her with a gentle smile. "I do know that. Thank you."

"I got married too quickly," Stacie confessed to him. "I suppose I deserved the consequences of making such a huge decision so impulsively."

"No," Ash stated firmly. "You didn't deserve what he did. Nobody would."

"At least I got revenge. It helps. Does that make me a bad person?"

"No." It was a short answer, but filled with conviction. If anyone could be said to truly believe in her, it was Ash.

"Conning Jake…that's when I first suspected," she added softly.

"Suspected what?"

"That you cared for me. That maybe…there was something more in that caring than there used to be."

His reply was quiet, but spoken without hesitation or fanfare. "You'd be right."

Stacie reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his. He didn't pull away.

"I always hated him for what he did to you," Ash went on. "You deserved better."

She shook her head, remembering everything he was pulling off behind the scenes while the rest of them were engrossed in the poker game. "You worked so hard on that one."

"I 'ad to."

"At first I wondered whether you'd all made a pact or something behind my back, but…I don't know… Everyone did their best to help me get Jake, but you…it seemed more personal, somehow. Just something between you and me."

"It was personal for Mickey too," Ash started to say.

"Yeah, but that was between him and Jake. They never did like each other."

"Butting heads," he finished for her, then sighed. "Yeah, that one was just between you and me."

"You were the only one who actually spoke to me about your doubts, too," she added. "I appreciated you speaking up, even though I knew you didn't believe me when I said I had my emotions under control. I don't blame you for that."

"Proved me wrong, though, didn't you?" he said with a brief grin. He sobered again, saying, "I, uh…saw your wedding ring. I accidentally knocked your bag off the table and the box fell out. I couldn't 'elp wondering if you'd kept it for sentimental reasons."

"No," she assured him. "That's not why I kept it. I kept it as a reminder…not to let myself fall into that trap again. Not to let my head get turned." She squeezed his hand gently. "I don't need it anymore. I got rid of it a long time ago."

"Bottom of the river?" he guessed.

"No. I sold it and donated the money to a shelter that helps women who've suffered domestic abuse. I know that's not the same as what Jake did to me, but it made me feel better knowing that his money went to other wives who needed it."

Ash chuckled, resting his head on his hand as he glanced down at the view. They were silent for a while. Stacie stared out at the lights, considering her next words.

"You're the only one who…" She halted, starting again. "It's weird, really. They're all so similar. Jake, Mickey, Danny."

"How d'you mean?"

"Well, we could only get to Jake because we set me up as a prize to be won. Mickey and Danny are great, they really are, but…sometimes, I think they used to see me that way too. Maybe not as…vindictively or blatantly as Jake, but still. You're the only one who didn't. I used to think it was because you didn't feel the same way about me."

In the window's reflection, she saw him frown slightly, and turned to look, trying to get a read on his expression.

"I don't blame you for thinking that," he said, eyes facing forward as he answered her truthfully. "Although, I gotta say, you're doing me a disservice."

"I know. I was an idiot."

"No, no, no," he protested, turning to meet her gaze. "Come on, Stace. You're gorgeous, it's only natural that people are gonna notice. The problem is when that's all they notice. Because there's so much more to you than that. You're intimidatingly sharp, you don't suffer fools at all, let alone gladly, and I've always been privileged to call you a friend."

She smiled at his words, the simple, heartfelt truths reminding her that what she valued about him, he also valued about her.

"When I'd see you having to flaunt your beauty for mark after mark," Ash went on earnestly, "I wanted to spare you being fawned over during your free time too."

"I appreciate that," Stacie told him. "Although…I don't mind if it's you."

He smiled at her, although it soon gave way to a hint of concern. "It doesn't bother you? That I'm so much older?"

She shook her head at once. "Fourteen years is nothing when two people connect. I've never cared, you should know that." He opened his mouth to speak, and she hurriedly shut him down. "I won't hear that as an argument against us."

He chuckled, squeezing her hand. "I wasn't gonna argue. I'm done arguing with you."

"Glad to hear it."

"And truthfully…maybe I'm a selfish bastard, but…I don't want to try changing your mind."

"Oh, don't worry. You wouldn't have succeeded."

"I know," he said, shooting her a smile. "So…if…this is definitely what you want…"

"You know it is," Stacie stated firmly. "But I want it to be what you want too. You told me to ask you if you were sure, so…I'm asking. Are you?"

He nodded. "I'm sure. I can't pretend to understand why you'd want me, but I'm bloody grateful that you do."

"You really don't understand, do you?" she said, feeling a twinge of sadness. "I have a counter question: why wouldn't I want someone caring and loyal, someone fiercely intelligent but modest, someone I can have a debate with, who makes me laugh, who has always looked out for me. Someone who looks damn good in a suit, who happens to have the prettiest eyes–"

"Pretty?" he interrupted incredulously.

Stacie laughed, but continued. "–that I've ever seen. Yes, why on earth would I possibly want that guy?"

"Okay, okay," he said, holding up a hand to stop her even as he joined in her laughter. "I believe you."

"About time."

"Come here."

He let go of her hand and lifted his arm. She immediately scooted closer, tucking herself up to his side, relishing the comforting weight of his arm around her. He brushed her hair back with his free hand, cupping her cheek, and she lifted her chin to press her lips to his, a feather-light kiss, mindful of his split lip.

"Do I need to list all the reasons why I want you?" Ash asked her when they drew apart.

"No, but if you want to, I won't stop you," she responded cheekily.

He chuckled. Stacie pulled her feet up onto the sofa cushions, gently resting her head on his chest.

"Is this okay?" she asked. "Not pressing on any bruises?"

"It's perfect," he replied, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

The next thing she knew, daylight was poking at her eyelids, and she squinted at the rude beam of sunlight that had interrupted her sleep. She was disoriented for a split second, then it all came flooding back, and she carefully moved her head to peer up at Ash. He glanced down at her with a groggy smile, and she shifted into a sitting position, wincing at her stiff limbs.

"Ow," she muttered, stretching. "I don't think this thing was designed for sleeping on."

"No," he agreed, pulling a pained face as he moved.

"I'm sorry, are you really sore? I shouldn't have fallen asleep on you."

"I'm fine," he assured her. "I've got an easy day anyway. My character's off sick, remember?"

"Right. What time is it?"

"6:40," Ash reported, glancing at his watch. "Plenty of time for you to sneak out."

She smiled. "Yes, you should change your clothes or you'll get a reputation."

"I wouldn't mind," he said at once, making her laugh. "Who wouldn't be proud of getting a reputation for lounging about with you?"

"Lounging about, is it?"

"So far," he said, raising his eyebrows and shooting her a brazen smile.

Stacie felt her cheeks grow warm, and searched for a way to get even. She settled on a sultry tone, saying, "I'll hold you to that, Ash Morgan."

He cleared his throat a touch awkwardly, and she smirked at her success. They both got to their feet, stretching, and Stacie turned to him with a more serious look.

"Let's just keep this between us. Until the business with Wasam is over."

He nodded at once. "Agreed."

"I'll see you after work, then."

"Be safe."

"I will."

Stacie sat in the back seat of one of Wasam's cars, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. She stared at the back of Barir's head, reassured by the fact that he seemed to have no idea she'd pickpocketed him. Twice, technically. Barir was the perfect right-hand man: slightly more approachable than the boss, but having no qualms about carrying out violent orders. He'd been nothing but courteous to her, but he hadn't seemed at all phased when given the task of calling a new enforcer for Wasam.

Stacie knew what he meant by 'enforcer', of course. A more family-friendly term for hitman. That would have alarmed her in its own right, but knowing Wasam planned to use him on her friends, her family…it had turned her blood to ice. So, she'd picked Barir's pocket, amended the phone number on the scrap of paper he'd been given, and replaced it, all in less than a minute.

Settling back in her seat, she tugged her phone out of her handbag and sent a quick text.

You'll be called by an unknown number. You're a Ukrainian mercenary. Agree to the London job, I'll explain everything later. Call me when you can – S.

Cradling her phone between her palms, she watched the scenery slip by, breathing deeply and evenly until her heartrate slowed to a more normal rate. Finally, the car pulled to a stop outside her hotel, and she unclicked her seatbelt.

"We will pick you up at eight-thirty tomorrow morning," Barir informed her before she opened the door.

"Fine," she said, pitching her tone the right balance between wary and resigned. "See you then."

He nodded to her in the rear-view mirror. Stacie tugged the door handle and stepped out onto the pavement. She walked towards the hotel, waiting until the car had been swallowed by the traffic. When she could no longer see it, she switched direction, starting the fifteen minute walk to the penthouse. The call came in as she was crossing the lobby, and she ducked into the nearest lift for privacy.

"Danny?"

"Why the bleedin' 'ell am I suddenly getting on a plane to England as a Ukrainian 'itman?"

Despite everything, she had to smile at his way with words. "I need your help. Mickey's got himself in a bit of a situation."

"Course he 'as. Can't leave him alone for five minutes. Typical." She heard him sigh, then held the phone away from her ear as he bellowed, "Taxi!" After some shuffling and a muffled, "Airport, mate, quick as you can," he was back. "Right. Catch me up."

Stacie grinned. For all his complaining, he was on his way without knowing any details. Danny and Mickey may have been rivals, but there was no denying the deep respect and affection that lay beneath all that. She explained the situation as succinctly as possible, and by the time she'd reached the top floor, he was up to date and on board with the plan.

"Right," he finished up. "I'll let you know when I land, then."

"Okay."

"Wish me luck. Never tried to con me way onto a plane with no passport or ticket before."

"I'm sure you'll think of something," she said with certainty. "Thanks, Danny."

"You don't have to thank me. It's what we do, innit?"

"Yeah, it is. Have a good flight." She hung up and returned her phone to her bag.

She made her way to the tiny, private lift up to the penthouse, letting out a long, tired breath. When she got there, the group was waiting for her in the lounge, with the exception of Sean.

"Okay," she announced, walking into the room. "Time to bail out."

She wanted to gauge their responses before revealing her back-up plan. Just that morning she'd seen Mickey endure threats and physical violence from Wasam without blinking an eye, and she needed to know that he wasn't being foolhardy.

"You what?" Ash said with a frown.

"He wants me to learn how to program the machine so that he can have you killed."

"Well, that's kind of what we expected," Mickey said, and she frowned.

"He told Barir to call the enforcer, and whatever you do, he's not going to let you out of his sight."

Mickey nodded in acknowledgement. "I know."

Stacie placed a hand on her hip, concerned with his cavalier attitude. "From tomorrow morning he'll have two of his guards on you full time."

Ash glanced up at her, seeming to sense that there was more behind her words. Thankfully, he said nothing.

"Even if you pull this off, you'll never get away clean," she finished.

Before Mickey could answer, Sean emerged from his room, talking enthusiastically. "This. Is. Wicked! Without a doubt, this is one of the coolest things I've ever tried on."

Stacie pivoted to look at him, taking in the peculiar one-piece suit he was wearing. It fit skin-tight, and resembled a wetsuit. She immediately grasped what it meant, and part of her concern dissipated.

"I actually look like I could swim faster than a shark!" Sean declared happily before looking up and seeing her there. "All right, Stace?" he said with forced casualness.

"Hi," she said coolly, maintaining her poker face.

"Just for the record," he told her solemnly, "this isn't an accurate representation of my underwear."

She looked him up and down before bestowing a faint, "Hmph." Turning away, she shot Ash an amused glance. "Pleased to hear it," she said, looking back at the embarrassed young man.

He backed away and retreated, and she huffed a laugh.

"He's got issues from when he was a baby," Emma informed her in a stage-whisper.

"I do not have issues!" Sean yelled in defence, shutting his door.

The light moment ended with his exit, and Stacey walked over to take a seat. "Mickey," she said gravely, picking up the topic, "I don't like it. It feels wrong."

"What about the money?" Mickey asked her.

Dutifully, she answered the question. "He's having it transferred first thing tomorrow morning before the markets open. He's also bringing five-hundred thousand in cash, which is your commission if you double him up."

Mickey nodded, but his focus was on something he was writing. He glanced up only to say, "Okay."

Stacie felt her patience waver. "I tell you someone's planning to have you killed and all you say is 'okay'?"

Emma met her gaze briefly, and Stacie got the impression that part of her was in agreement. She kept her silence, however. Ash did likewise, although she could feel his glances.

"You're taking ten million from this man, Mickey," Stacie added. "He's not just going to put it down to experience and walk away."

Sean joined them, silent and fully dressed, sitting down next to his sister.

"I know Wasam won't just walk away," Mickey said to them all. "Which is why it's a good reason for us all to…lay low for a bit."

The group exchanged glances. No one looked pleased by the idea.

"So I was thinking," Mickey went on, "when this job is done we should…take a break. Go our separate ways for a while."

"How long's a while?" Emma asked him at once.

"Who knows? I thought it best not to make plans."

Emma stared at him, and Stacie felt a pang of sympathy as she took in the blonde's worried face.

"I was gonna…talk to you about this when the job was done," Mickey admitted, "but seems now is as good a time as any."

"So that's why we're taking this job," Emma clarified, "it's walking away money."

"If you want to call it that."

"So that's it then?" Sean spoke up, sounding upset. "One last job and we're finished, huh?"

Stacie exchanged a glance with Ash. He looked pensive, but not as concerned as the others. He always had been sharper than people gave him credit for.

"I've always thought it was a good idea to quit while you're ahead," he commented. "I think ten million qualifies as being ahead."

"This is the question," said Albert, whose silences and words were always significant. "If you didn't take this break would you still do the job?"

Mickey took his time in replying, getting to his feet and pacing a little. "If I'm honest," he said at length, "no I wouldn't. And I wouldn't blame any one of you who wanted to walk away right now. But come on!" A smile graced his face. "The money comes in tomorrow. Our play is that the city of London police have had us under surveillance. Ash has already lined up a dozen grifters and all the vehicles. We get ourselves arrested, but we let Wasam get away. He'll run straight to the airport, desperate to leave the country. He'll think the money's been impounded, there's nothing to keep him here, whereas we, on the other hand, will cash in and be long gone by the time the dust settles."

Stacie rested her head on her hand, finally understanding his angle. It was his big speech, where he tested their loyalty. She'd seen them before, she even knew why he did it, but still…she'd have been happier if he shared his entire plan from the word go.

Everyone exchanged looks again, and she saw that some of the anxiety had lifted, but not all.

"It will work," Mickey insisted, meeting her gaze. "Trust me."

"I trust you, Mickey," she told him honestly. "We all do."

"None of us would be here if we didn't," Albert added.

Stacie nodded, but she had more to say. "But this isn't one of those times when you can hold back information on us. It's not like the diamond heist where the risks were the same whether we were grifting or stealing. This is our lives that we could potentially lose."

"Not yours, Stace," Sean put in helpfully. "Wasam thinks you're working for him, so you'd survive."

"Yes, thank you, Sean," Emma muttered.

"What's your point, Stace?" Ash prompted her gently.

"My point is, you obviously have a plan B," she said, looking directly at Mickey. "You're suiting up in…whatever that was that Sean was modelling, so you're clearly planning on being shot with blanks. But frankly I have no idea what your plan B is, and I wasn't prepared to place all my faith in the unknown, not this time."

Mickey looked a touch chastened by her words, but didn't interrupt.

"So, I put a back-up plan of my own in place."

Ash let out a quiet chuckle, and she looked at him.

"Of course you did," he said, the phrase underlined with warmth and pride.

"What back-up plan?" Mickey asked her, and she spotted a tiny frown creasing his brow. He wasn't a fan of having control taken from him, she knew that. Still, it had definitely been necessary.

"When Barir was ordered to call the enforcer, I altered the details a little bit."

"What details?" Emma asked.

"The number."

Emma's face took on a smile, and she heard Ash and Albert laugh.

"Wait, so who's he called instead?" Sean asked.

Stacie met Mickey's gaze and smiled reassuringly at him. "Danny."

"Who's Danny?" said Sean.

Mickey shook his head, but he was smiling. "That's brilliant," he admitted after a moment's pause.

"So what was your plan?" Stacie asked him, folding her arms.

"We were going to get shot by the police, but having Wasam see his enforcer do it will work so much better. He'll definitely believe we're dead if he thinks he orchestrated it himself."

"You're welcome," she said emphatically. She looked over at Ash. "Told you being on the inside would be beneficial."

His smile widened. "Remind me never to doubt you again."

"Okay," Mickey spoke up, demanding their attention. "New plan."