Hi guys! So a few notes first of all: thank you for all the amazing PM's I've been getting, over 20 now! I didn't realise that many people still read my stories! Haha. Some of the one shot ideas are awesome, some are...quite frankly a little scary (for all those of you who wanted porn chapters (-a Lara/Allie/Pete threesome, REALLY?!- and for the person who actually SENT me one, whooooa. Haha). But here's a little ROGS to keep you going until I get around to updating Intervals.

As usual, please read and review, reviews keep me going and give me more of a boost than you'll ever know. With this story, it is following the WCHB arc but there will be a twist. Its going to take a few chapters to get to it but we're talking GAME CHANGING TWISTS here, people. It was actually the direction I was going to take Intervals in before I changed my mind so some of what you're reading is nearly 9 years old! Anyway, I'm rambling, I love you loads, please review and make me a happy bunny. El xx

Steve Dunham woke to the sound of thumping, the noise echoing eerily around the living room as he blinked into the ether and tried to work out what time it was. Reaching for his phone which lay on the coffee table, he flipped it open and squinted, cursing under his breath when he realised it was only 5.40pm. Here he was thinking he'd slept off the worst of his injuries and could wake up fresh as a daisy and head down to the Abbey with the boys.

Wrenching himself upright, he hissed at the pain that shot through his ribs and stood up, staggering slightly as he made his way into the hallway and down towards the front door. Through the stained glass he could see a figure leaning against the wall, one hand still pounding manically on the worn wood.

"Fucking 'ang on!" he shouted, noting from the way that the house was still in darkness that his mother hadn't come home from her little outing with Pete.

Reaching out, he yanked the door open and fought the urge to laugh, his eyes settling on the younger man in front of him, ignoring the scowl as he knew that Bovver only had one facial expression these days.

"Well Christ alive," Steve folded his arms. "If it ain't the ghost of Christmas past. If you're looking for your girlfriend, she ain't 'ere,"

"I know that," Bovver shot back. "That's why I'm here, I need to talk to you," he took one last long drag of his cigarette and then stubbed it out against the brick wall. "I need your help sorting Pete out,"

Steve raised and eyebrow and rocked back on his heels, taking pleasure in annoying the man in front of him.

"And remind me why I should give a fuck about some little tiff you and my brother have going?" he snorted. "Don't tell me you're tossing a coin over which one of you gets to be the next major, now..."

"You really think its gonna be yours forever, do you Steve?" Bovver smirked. "Nah mate, one day you're going to be an old man and who do you think is going to be running the GSE then?"

"What I think, Stuart," the blonde spat. "Is that you've taken up too much of my time already today, so be a good girl and fuck off."

Watching as Steve took a step back and prepared to slam the door, Bovver shot his hand out, wincing when he felt his wrist crack as he did his best to hold it open.

"Your brother is going all soft over some fucking bird," he spoke quickly. "And if he turns his back on this, if he gets distracted by some fancy bit of pink, then we're fucked,"

Steve stared at him for a long moment and then unable to hold it in any longer, burst out laughing. Clutching his chest as he watched Bovver's face flushing with a combination of rage and embarrassment, he laughed harder, stopping only when breath became necessary.

"Right, right, right," he shook his head. "Let me get this straight, son. You want me to help you sort out Pete because you're jealous he's found a new friend to play with?" he laughed. "Fucking do one, Bov. I've got a headache as it is without you bitching,"

"She's a journo,"

Steve's head shot up and the smile bled from his face as he watched the younger man seriously.

"Yeah, you 'eard," Bovver smirked. "Stevie Dunham's brother hanging out with a journo, telling her all the stories about what Big Brother Steve is getting up to with his friends at the weekend..." he shook his head. "And don't even fucking bother saying its bollocks because we both know what Pete's like. He thinks everyone is his mate and everyone can keep a secret,"

Pushing the door open fully, noting that Steve's hand had gone slack against it, he stepped into the house, stopping only to kick his shoes off and hand his jacket to Steve who was still staring at him dangerously.

"Now be a sweetheart and put the kettle on, because now maybe you'll agree that we've got some chatting to do,"

"Journalism?"

Hearing the disgust in Pete's voice, Allie smiled to herself, not bothering to turn around from where she was sifting through her films to find them something to watch. After an entire afternoon of handing the poor guys arse to him on the pool table, she had figured the least she could do was invited him in for a hot chocolate and some Laurel and Hardy. How the man had grown up without watching it, she would never understand.

"So did you sell your soul all in one or are they taking it in down payments?" he smirked as she turned to face him, one hip jutting to the side, arms folded defensively.

"For your information," she smirked. "I plan on working for Vogue,"

"For what?"

"Oh my God, you can't be serious," Allie stared at him wide eyed. "Vogue...Conde Nast, leader of fashion in the free world?"

Pete grinned at her and shook his head, shrugging.

"Think GQ but for women," she told him.

"Right," he pursed his lips and nodded. "Poncy shit that everyone wants but no one can actually afford,"

"Exactly," Allie winked at him, feeling her heart start to pound when she coaxed a deep laugh out of him. "So, I can't find my Laurel and Hardy boxset which means our choices are either Gangs of New York or Kill Bill."

Pete raised an eyebrow at her and smirked, knowing damn well she wouldn't have suggested either of those if she'd been watching something on her own. Catching the look on his face she laughed and shook her head.

"I'm doing you a favour here, buddy," she jerked her chin towards the shelf. "If you'd rather The OC or Mean Girls then by all means..."

"Gangs," Pete pointed at the DVD in her left hand. "Definitely gangs,"

"Thought as much," she rolled her eyes, clambering over the bed to get to her TV. "By the way, don't think I- OW!"

Pete turned to face her just as she disappeared, a loud crash following as a few more than colourful words left her mouth. Running around to the other side of the bed, he stared down at her, trying his best not to laugh as she lay on her back, DVD's all around her, her right foot caught in the bedding.

"Any chance you didn't see that?" she mumbled from where her arm was strewn across her face in a desperate attempt to hide her mortification.

Good move, Harding. You finally get the most gorgeous man you've ever laid eyes on in your room and you fall on your arse.

"I sure as shit heard it," he chuckled, crouching down next to her and holding out his hand. "Right blood liability you are, should I take life insurance out or something...?"

Choking out a laugh, she took his hand, trying her very best to ignore the electricity that shot through her as she did so and pulled herself upright, wincing suddenly when a sharp pain made itself know in her foot.

"You ok?" Pete frowned, suddenly alert.

"Yeah, I think I stubbed my toe," she yanked the sheets back and saw blood. "Or ripped it off, one or the other, oh my god!"

"Come 'ere," Pete laughed, catching her ankle and gently untangling her foot from the remainder of the linen. "Can you stand up or are you done for?"

"Sod off," Allie giggled, standing up and squeaking when he pushed her down gently onto the bed so she was sitting on the edge. He stayed where he was, kneeling on the floor and brought her foot up onto his lap, inspecting her big toe which was bleeding steadily.

"I think you tore the nail," Pete winced, looking around the room for something to stop the blood. "Where's that first aid kit you used on me?"

"You mean my SpongeBob Square Pants plaster box?" she raised an eyebrow. "Over there,"

Following the direction of her finger, Pete grabbed the small tin and then dived into the bathroom, grabbing the first towel he saw and making his way back towards her, kneeling down again and catching the worried look in her eyes as he rolled up his sleeves.

"Should I be worried that you look like you know what you're doing?" Allie asked him, a soft laugh escaping her lips and doing funny things to his stomach.

"I've 'ad to patch up worse injuries than this in my time," he snorted, taking the damp corner of the towel and squinting down at her foot, trying to work out the best way to do this without hurting her.

"Really?" she cocked her head and he cursed himself, desperately trying to think on his feet.

"Football," he explained with a shrug, hoping that would suffice. It sounded better than my-dad-used-to-beat-the-shit-out-of-me-and-so-I-had-to-work-out-how-to-patch-myself-back-together-before-my-mum-came-home-and-saw at any rate. Concentrating, he looked up at her, noticing not for the first time how gorgeous she was, her honey colour hair falling into her emerald green eyes, the small flick of gold next to the pupils making her look almost ethereal. Her fully, peachy lips were slightly darker from where she had been nibbling them nervously and her hands were clutching the bed sheets in tight fists as though she knew pain was imminent. Trying to get his brain out of the gutter, Pete shook off the thought of other ways he could get her to bite her lip or grab onto the bed sheets like that. A smirk pulled at his lips regardless but he grounded himself, focusing on the task at hand.

"You ready?"

"No."

"Tough shit," he winked at her. "One, two..."

"Th- Oh you son of a bitch!" Allie cried as he pushed down on the nail, forcing it back into its place.

"You ok?"

"No, you said count of three!"

"I didn't say shit all, I just started counting," he smirked at her, then saw the pain on her face and frowned. "Just a couple of seconds, alright? If I don't push it back in, it might get infected,"

"Lovely," she grimaced, hissing again as he applied a tiny bit more pressure. Closing her eyes tightly, she tried to get her breathing to slow down, something that wasn't help when she felt his hand on her calf, stroking it, coaxing her body into relaxing.

"You ok?"

His voice was hoarse and she opened her eyes, swallowing hard when she met his gaze and nodded mutely, not trusting herself with words right at that moment. Pete fought to keep his breathing normal as he subconsciously stroked her leg, noticing her grip on the sheets hadn't loosened any, in fact she seemed to be more wound up than before.

"Does it hurt?" he fought the urge to frown, noting that his voice sounded alien, not like him at all. It was so hoarse, so unsure. He'd been in girls rooms before and usually by this time, he'd sealed the deal and was looking for an escape route. But sat here with her, touching her leg through her fucking jeans, he was having a meltdown. What the hell was happening to him?

"Yeah," she breathed back. "It doesn't hurt anymore,"

"Good," he smiled at her. "Thought you were going to have my fucking eye out the way you kicked before,"

He picked up a plaster and peeled it, removing the towel just enough to check if her toe had stopped bleeding. He noted with pride that it had and gently wrapped the plaster around it, taking his time, not wanting to stop touching her.

"Maybe you should be a doctor," Allie told him softly. "If you can cope with me, you can cope with anyone,"

"Nah, you're not that bad," Pete teased her, still not letting go of her foot. "You should see Swill when he gets a papercut, he's like a fucking banshee,"

Laughing, Allie wriggled her toes against his palm and it took everything in him not to lean forward and kiss her knee, maybe a little further upward...

"Look at it as the first step to teacher training," she giggled. "You'll be patching up war wounds on a daily basis before you know it,"

"I doubt it," Pete scoffed, picking up the bloodied towel and throwing it onto what he hoped was her laundry hamper. Catching the lacy black bra he could see sticking out of it, he smirked and found his thoughts wandering again.

"What do you mean?"

He looked back at her and shrugged, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Its just..." he rubbed the back of his head. "They're just words, Allie. It won't actually happen,"

"What?" she half shrieked, half laughed. "Your tutor has told you you're smart enough to graduate a year early and just walk into a teaching job," she shook her head. "Do you have any idea how rare that is?"

"I'm not smart enough," Pete shrugged. "What's the point?"

"Your tutor thinks you are," she countered. "Your mum thinks you are, I think you are,"

"See already that's three people," he held up his hand and showed her. "Three people I have to worry about..."

"About what?" Allie asked him, her eyes narrowing.

"Forget it," Pete shook his head, suddenly feeling wound up. "Look, if you're alright, I might head back,"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," she laughed, standing up and snagging his elbow. "Where's all this coming from?" she spotted the forms in her bag and reached down, grabbing them and waving them in his face. "I won the game remember, so you have to fill these out and give them in. Today,"

"Allie," Pete shook his head. "Its not that simple,"

"Well you got into uni so I'm assuming you know how to write..." she pursed her lips. "Have I missed anything or has the process of filling in forms got harder since I last did it?"

Frowning at her, he felt himself ready to snap; gorgeous as she might be he'd known from the night he met her that the girl had a smartass mouth on her. And here he was on the receiving end of it for the second time in just over two weeks.

"And you think that's it, do ya?" he snapped. "Fill in a couple of forms, jump into some cushy job and what?" he laughed bitterly. "Nah, Allie things like that don't happen for blokes like me,"

"Why?" she challenged him. "Because they actually don't happen or because you won't let them?"

"Oh give me a fucking break," he snatched the forms from her and threw them into the bin next to them. "You know nothing about my life, about where I come from, about what I'm worth...because I'm not worth that. I'm not worth any of it. You know my own brother thinks I'm wasting my time here? My best mate, the miserable shit you met the other morning? He's actually taking bets on how long it'll take before I drop out, do you know what that means?"

"That you have a shitty brother and even shittier friends?" Allie shrugged.

"No," Pete shot back. "It means that they see something in me that most people don't. They know me better than anyone and they know this is a mistake. I'm not ever going to become a fucking teacher, look at me! If you knew..." he shook his head and scrubbed his face with his hands. "Just leave it, alright?"

She watched as he grabbed his jacket, slinging it on as he made his way over to her door. Rushing after him, she ignored the pain in her toe and grabbed the back of his jacket with both hands, pulling him around to face her and trying to ignore the fact that they were so close his body brushed against hers as he did so and she fought the urge to moan.

"You're right," she told him firmly. "I don't know you that well but what I've realised in the last few minutes is that I already know you better than your brother and your apparent best friend because I know you can do this and more than that, I know you want it. I know that you're smart, I know that your mum is insanely proud of you and I know that you wouldn't be here if you weren't sure this is what you wanted. I don't know jack about your family or how you grew up but what the hell does that matter? You think that defines you right now? You think the fact you got dealt a rough hand means you can't better yourself?"

He stared at her with a mixture of fury and amazement but didn't say a word. Her scent was fogging his brain and the tone of her voice was scarier than he wanted to admit. Either way, interrupting her wasn't an option.

"I know you've got 1sts on every essay you've handed in so far without picking up a single damn book and I know you're determined. So no, I don't know your history or your stats but I know you have something about you. I know that you grinned like an idiot when your mum mentioned your PGCE, I know that you give a shit and I know that you're more than capable of doing this," she shook her head. "So no, you don't have three people you're going to let down if you try, you just have one person you're going to never forgive if you don't."

Grabbing the papers out of the bin, she slammed them against his chest hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

"Grow some balls and prove them wrong," she whispered. "You're an amazing guy, Pete. Don't waste it just because its what a few stupid people expect you to do,"

"You're really fucking annoying, do you know that?" he spoke after a long moment.

"Oh my God!" she clutched her hair. "Are you seriously going to stand there and keep arguing with me?"

"No," he smirked, shaking his head.

"No?" she raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to actually fill out the forms?"

"No,"

"Then what the fuck are you going to do, Pete?" she sighed, not certain her body could keep fighting him like this.

"This,"

He pushed himself away from the door and grabbed her hips, throwing the papers to the floor and kissed her. Softly at first, gauging her reaction; the way this girl went on, he wouldn't be all that surprised if she clocked him one but instead, she reached up, one hand stroking down his face as the other clutched at his chest. After a short moment, he pulled back and met her eyes, feeling his heart pounding as she licked her lips, tasting him.

"Didn't expect that," she whispered breathlessly.

"Yeah well," he smirked. "You're actually really fucking sexy when you're angry,"

"Uh huh," she cocked her head. "You'll just have to keep pissing me off then, won't you?"

"I'll try my fucking best," Pete mumbled, silencing her giggle as he pulled her to him again, walking her backwards until she was pressed against the door of her wardrobe. His mouth worked hers like magic, his tongue swiping against hers rhythmically as his hands kneaded her hips, his thumbs pushing her camisole up just enough to make little circles on the skin underneath. She moaned softly and he kissed her harder, pushing her hair to one side and kissing down her jaw to her neck, his body tightening when she moaned his name and raked her finger nails down his back.

"Am I going too fast?" he panted against her, his eyes searching hers.

"Are you kidding me?" Allie laughed, shoving his jacket off of his shoulders and kissing him hotly, squealing when he crouched down and picked her up, walking over to her bed and then changing his mind, sitting down on the arm chair instead with her in his lap. Any other girl and he would have gone straight for it but Allie...

Feeling his breath catch as she stared down at him, all soft lips and glittering eyes, the scent of her skin unlike anything he had ever known, the feel of her hands on his skin.

With Allie, things were different. Whatever this was, he was a doomed man, he knew it and he suspected she did too. What that meant for him, he had no idea. Hissing with pleasure as she bit down softly on his neck, he realised he didn't care. He was different when he was around her, she saw things in him that no one else did. And he wouldn't let anything stand in the way of him finding out exactly what that could be. Who he could be.

He was Pete Dunham. And for the first time in his life, that wasn't a bad thing.

Things are going a little too well right? Queue Bovver and Steve...