Sooo I know I promised you an intervals update before another one of these but...I can't physically bring myself to do it. There's TWO chapters left and its killing me to say goodbye so I thought I'd warm you up with this before waving goodbye to Intervals for good. :(

But this is getting exciting for me now as the story is kicking off and the mysterious arc that I promised takes the fic in a very very different direction will be starting in just a few chapters time.

I can't thank you guys enough for the lovely feedback you've given this fic so far, I wasn't sure if I was flogging a dead horse with Pete/Allie so its amazing to hear you guys love them as much as I do. They're so much fun to write and the reviews are probably my favourite part of the day *HINT HINT* :p

Read, enjoy and please leave a review. Love always, El xx

"Esdon?" Bovver snorted, squinting into the unrelenting sunlight as he fished through his pockets for a lighter. The moment Pete had text him, he had practically run to the campus, ignoring the looks from the poncy looking students as he hiked his collar high enough to cover the bruise on his jaw. "As in Lee and Sean, the skinny fucks from St Marks who always had their shoes on the wrong feet?"

"That's what Terry said," Pete laughed, taking a long sip of his coffee. "Apparently they're all grown up and running the Yids. You remember their old man, don't you?"

"Joe?" Bovver furrowed his brow, trying to remember his face. "Yeah, he knew your..."

He caught the sudden tenseness in Pete's body and the dark look in his eyes and quickly stopped himself. Michael Dunham had never been the easiest topic of discussion, even when he was alive. All the boys knew the Dunham family history, about how Michael had fallen hard into the bottle when Moira was pregnant with Pete and for some reason always favoured Steve. No one had ever asked why, especially Pete. Sometimes ignorance was bliss, it seemed.

"Yeah well," Pete sniffed, downing the dregs of his coffee and chucking the cup into the bin next to him. "Its been a while, I reckon we're long overdue a catch up,"

Winking at Bovver, he jerked his chin towards the path that led back to his building and stood, shoving his hands into his pockets and felt around for his keys, grimacing at the sweat he could feel trickling down his neck; when the hell was this heat wave going to end? They needed a good storm to clear everything. Chaos to get back to normality, his mum always said.

"Oi, 'ave you heard from Dave?" Bovver piped up. "He said you might..."

Pete stopped listening the second he heard her giggle, his chest thumping like it always did, the same grin pulling at his lips as his head snapped up and he scanned the grass for the familiar head of golden hair. He spotted her almost instantly; her tanned skin glowing under the sheer white top she wore, her long legs stretched out in front of her, the daisy chain she had made resting on her head like a halo as she giggled and leaned forward, playfully hitting the guy next to her and...

Wait. What?

Pete frowned, squinting through the sunlight and zoning in on the wet looking ponce next to her. Allie might not have been clocking the way his eyes kept running up her legs, but he sure as shit caught it.

"Bollocks to this," he grumbled, yanking his hands from his pockets and stepping onto the grass towards them.

"Oi!" Bovver shouted after him. "I thought we were going to meet up with Dave?"

"Change of plan," Pete called back, ignoring the colourful language that greeted him in return as he drew closer to Allie and the pretty boy. Not unlike a lion stalking its prey; a very hot, pissed off lion.

"I don't give a crap what they teach you in Boston," Allie was laughing. "Tom Wolfe is not better than Seamus Heaney, in fact give me the rest of your ice cream as penance, you heathen,"

"Strong words for someone who's homeland is responsible for the biggest plagiarist in history,"

Great, Pete thought with disgust. A fucking yank. A pretty boy yank who took the same course as her and was making her laugh. And still fucking eyeing up her legs.

"If you're referring to Shakespeare, you can piss off right this second," Allie shook her head, flipping one of her text books open and pretending not to listen to him as he started arguing back at her. "Blah, blah, blah, blah..."

Matt laughed as he watched her biting her lip in an attempt not to do the same; the girl was gorgeous, there was no doubting it. And he'd been thinking of asking her out the whole hour he'd spent with her. She was the first girl he'd met since moving over here that had made him feel like this. There was just something about her, an openness that made him feel like he could tell her anything, that made him wonder what it would be like to kiss her. There had to be a catch somewhere. No one was this perfect.

"Alright, stranger?"

Mat frowned at the unfamiliar voice and looked up at the intimidating man standing above them, all muscle and chiselled features; the kind of guy he could never stand a chance against. Glancing back to Allie who he noted was looking in the same direction only with a huge grin on her face and an excited twinkle in her eyes, Matt almost laughed out loud.

So this was the catch.

"Hey!" she giggled, jumping to her feel and kissing him.

Pete kissed her back, more than happy with her reaction; at least this would let the prick next to her know where he stood.

"What're you doing here?" she asked as she pulled back, wiping her hands on her jean shorts and then placing them back on his chest.

"I was just heading back to halls and spotted you," he winked at her. "Thought I'd come say hi,"

Allie smiled again and leaned in, kissing him softly, slower this time, making him want more.

"Hi," she whispered against his lips, subtly nipping on his bottom lip before rocking back on her heels and turning back to the American who was surreptitiously flicking through one of the anthologies, looking everywhere but at them.

"Matt," she smiled. "This is my boyfriend, Pete." she stepped back and allowed Matt to stand, thankfully not noticing the look on his face when he realised how much shorter he was the man in front of him. "Pete, this is Matt Buckner. The man who just saved your girlfriends arse,"

"How'd you manage that?" Pete laughed, shaking the guys hand and willing to at least give him a chance. What was the point in jumping the gun after all?

"I checked out the last anthology," Matt winced. "I should do it more often,"

Pete caught the smile he sent her and tightened his grip on Matt's hand. Fuck it. Gun officially jumped.

"Oh bugger off," Allie laughed, leaning into Pete and looking up at him. "Matt's just moved over from Boston so I invited him out this weekend, you know for Lara's birthday?"

Pete nodded and forced himself to smile; the last thing he needed was some yank following Allie around like a horny puppy. But the girl had a heart bigger than her brain. Everyone was out to be your friend in Allie-world. Casting a quick glance at the American, Pete snorted under his breath. Something told him Matt had more on the brain that braiding her hair and putting on facemasks.

"Sounds like a plan," he nodded towards Matt. "Few of us are headed down the pub tonight if you fancy a pint?"

Matt stared at him for a moment, uncertain if this was a trap; he didn't doubt someone like Pete Dunham could and happily would kill him with a single punch.

"That'd be great," he smiled, wiping his sweaty palms on the back of his jeans and clearing his throat. "Well I should probably...get going, uh..." he bent down, gathering his books and forcing himself not to look down Allie's shirt as she did the same, handing him the anthology and grinning.

"Don't go too far with that thing," she pointed at him. "My dissertation is in your hands,"

"You've got my number," Matt reminded her with a laugh. "I'll see you Tuesday," he quickly met Pete's eyes and fought the urge to gulp at the look in them. "And I'll see you soon, too, Pete. It was great meeting you,"

"You, too mate," Pete told him, half of him genuinely meaning it. He knew he had nothing to worry about with Allie, the girl had a heart of gold, he trusted her within an inch of his life. The yank on the other hand...

"Bye, Matt!" Allie called, waving at him as he made his way through the various bodies strewn about the grass, soaking up the sun.

Turning back to Pete, she wrapped her arms around his middle, resting her chin against his chest as she stared up at him with a twinkle in her eye that he knew all too well.

"You hate him,"

Pete blinked, staring down at her and opening his mouth, expecting words to flow out but alas, he had nothing. The bloody woman knew him far too well.

"Hate is a strong word," he conceded with a smirk, brushing her hair back from her face.

"Uh huh," she rolled her eyes. "He's a nice guy, you might get along, you never know you might have more in common than you think,"

Well it looks like we have the same taste in women, Pete thought with a snort.

Ignoring the nagging voice in his head, he leaned down and kissed her, much firmer than her kisses earlier had been. He reigned himself in, suddenly remembering they were in public and that not 10 feet away from them Bovver was probably glaring at them or Allie to be more precise.

"I need to shower," she mumbled against his lips; her skin was hot and itchy from laying on the grass and all she wanted as a long shower and then a nap. Smirking, she stood on her tip toes, trying in vain to get herself up to Pete's height and failing miserably. "You can consider that an invitation,"

Pete froze, staring down at her and forcing himself not to throw her over his shoulder like he wanted to and sprint back to her room. Ok, so they hadn't had sex yet and he'd promised her he'd be patient and he was all for that...but here she was, lips pressed against his, telling him she needed a shower buddy. Pete Dunham was fucked.

"If you want?" Allie bit her lip and met his eyes, slightly nervous that he hadn't said anything yet. After their conversation a few days ago in his room, she had wanted to badly to tell him then and there that she was in love with him and that she was ready. But she was petrified he would laugh at her. Or worse that she wouldn't be enough, maybe she wasn't what he wanted...

"I uh...I don.t..." Pete laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. "I'm meeting the lads and Bov is over there..."

Allie craned her neck slightly and true to his word, she spotted the dark haired man, pacing like a rabid dog in the sun, mumbling something into his phone and throwing sharp looks at anyone who walked within 2 feet of him. Turning quickly back to Pete so she didn't become one of them, Allie cleared her throat, suddenly realising that her boyfriend had more or less just knocked her back. For sex. Publicly.

"Right," she mumbled, hating the fact she could feel the blush covering her entire body. "Stupid idea," she shook her head, bending down and scooping up the rest of her belongings. "Don't worry about it,"

Pete frowned as he watched her hands shake and then it hit him. Oh fuck.

"Allie," he started, his eyes wide as she turned back to face him, her own shimmering with unshed tears. "Babe..."

"Its fine," she laughed. "Its the heat, its getting to me. Brain spazz," she laughed nervously although to him it sounded more like a sob as she hitched her purse up over her shoulder and wiping her hands on her shorts, fiddling with her hair. Doing anything that meant she didn't have to look at him. "'I'll see you later,"

Pete watched helplessly as she marched back towards their building, her pace much quicker than usual, her head down, shutting out the world.

"Fucking idiot," he muttered to himself, slamming his palm against the tree and wincing when it splintered, piercing his skin over and over.

"Oi!" Bovver shouted. "If you're done having your bitch fit against nature, we've got a match to get to,"

Ignoring him, Pete watched Allie until she disappeared from sight and leaned back against the large oak, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes and growling. Never in a million years did he think he'd ever have shot down Allie Harding. But what was he supposed to say to her? I'm so utterly fucking in love with you that I can't sleep with you? How the fuck did that work out?

"Pete!"

"I'm coming, you prick, pipe down!" he shouted back, shooting an apologetic look at a couple who were laying peacefully next to him.

Turning, he strode over to his friend and reached down, snagging one of the beers he was carrying and cracking it open with his teeth, necking it almost all in one go and ignoring the sting the bubbles caused in his throat.

"Easy son," Bovver laughed. "We've got a whole night ahead of us, and if what you were saying is true, we need to be on top form for those Esdon dickheads,"

"I'll be fine," Pete told him, taking another sip albeit a smaller one. "Lets just get to the match so we can do this,"

"What about Steve?" Bovver frowned. "Aren't we supposed to wait for him?"

"Fuck him," Pete snapped. "If we do this, we're doing it my way. And we're going to that match. Now."

"What the fuck was Curbishley thinking taking Ferdinand off in the second half?" Pete smirked as Dave went on what had to be his fourth rant since leaving the stadium. The night had cooled thank God and as they made their way towards Bank, there was at last a breeze that ran through the stale air around them.

Glancing out towards the Thames, Pete thought of Allie and checked his phone again, devastated but not all that surprised when he saw no texts or missed calls.

"Give the poor bastard a break," Swill chimed in. "If I was stepping into Roeder's fuck ugly shoes, I'd be making bullshit decisions n'all,"

"Fuck me, Simon," Dave stopped and clutched his chest. "That was damn near insightful,"

"I 'ave my moments," the younger man smirked, then as if on queue walked straight into a lamppost. "Jesus fucking Christ!"

"Smooth, mate," Pete laughed, happily accepting another beer from Dave.

Glancing down at his watch, he noted it was almost ten which meant he was due to meet Steve any minute. The streets around them seemed dark and almost too quiet, a storm was coming, that much he knew. It was just a case of when, how, where and who survived.

"Ere Dunham," Swill mumbled as he walked along next to him, his head tilted back to ease the blood flowing from his nose. "Where's that gorgeous girl of yours?"

"Probably still counting her fucking winnings," Keith laughed, rolling his eyes. "I still can't believe a posh bird cleaned the lot of us out at fucking pool of all things,"

"Could have been worse," Swill grinned. "At least we got to see her bend ov-..."

Pete laughed and smacked him hard in the back of the head, shoving him further up the road.

"Watch it, you tart," he mock warned. "I was reserving my first slap of the night for the Esdon boys but don't think you're incapable of taking that crown."

"Is that a promise?"

Pete stopped dead, turning in the direction of the voice that even after 8 years he'd know anywhere and smirked, meeting the eyes of Sean Esdon and shaking his head. The little shit had probably put on all of about 2 pounds of muscle since school. And Steve had warned him about this lot? He was more scared of his mum.

"Sean," Pete nodded, rubbing his jaw tiredly. "Well fuck me, all these years and you still haven't managed to hit puberty,"

He watched as a group of lads no older than any of the rest of them appeared around him; they were outnumbered but then they were stronger. He knew that the six of them could take out double what Esdon had. That had always been an Esdon family trait, all talk, no action.

"Ladies," Pete smiled in their direction. "Come on now, Seany. You not going to introduce us?"

"Nah mate," Sean shot back. "Unlike you, I prefer action to nervous banter,"

"Nervous?" Pete cocked his head and flexed his fingers, the adrenaline already rushing through his veins. "Mate, I'm in a gracious mood, so I'll give you one last chance to fuck off out of 'ere and go back home to mummy."

"And spare you having the shit kicked out of ya?" Sean laughed. "Nah mate, I'm good 'ere,"

"If you say so," Pete shrugged.

It took a second for him to start running, the fray around him building momentum even before he had reached Sean and ploughed into him, his shoulder connecting with the smaller man's stomach and sending them both sprawling to the ground. The roar of the building crowd around him was more addictive than the scream of the match and it urged him on, his fist raising and slamming into Sean's fist, not bothered by the spray of blood that hit him.

Something hit him hard suddenly, his body falling to the side as white spots danced before his eyes, his head spinning. Something wet dripped into his eye and he knew it was blood, even before he spotted the bottle laying broken next to him.

"Cheeky bastard," Pete mumbled, clambering to his feet and feeling slightly ill as the earth seemed to shift beneath him.

"Careful now," Sean laughed, standing up and looking straight at him. "I hear you got into big boy school, don't want to go hurting that brain of yours, do ya?"

"Its alright, mate," Pete smirked. "Unlike you I can afford to lose the odd brain cell,"

"Mikey Dunham's boy all grown up," he paced in front of the taller man, knowing damn well he was on bought time. Rumour had it that Stevie Dunham was out tonight as well and whilst there was a tiny chance he could hold his own with Pete, he knew that both Dunham brothers were a force to be reckoned with. Even Sean Esdon wasn't stupid enough to take chances like that.

"This was this is all about then, eh?" Sean pursed his lips, licking them and knowing then and there that he'd chipped his front tooth. "Trying to please daddy?"

"Don't try and play mind games, Esdon," Pete told him tiredly. "It really don't suit you, mate. Its like watching an ape tryna make a fire with a bottle of fucking water."

"So where is Stevie?" Sean continued, pretending he hadn't heard although the way his shoulders had squared and his jaw clenched let Pete know he had pissed him off. "Or does he let you out to play on your own these days?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," he countered, craning his neck to catch the eye of the other Esdon brother, Lee who despite his unfortunate parentage, Pete had never had all that much of an issue with. "Let her off the leash often, do ya?"

"Tell me something Dunham," Sean interrupted his brother, knowing the bloke was so fucking stupid he'd probably end up siding with Pete somehow. "How is it, we're a firm. They're a firm," he pointed to a group of guys walking towards them and Pete knew it had to be the Reds. "But you lot...you're some fucking after school special boy scout club. Why is it you're here exactly?"

"You answered your own question, there darling," Pete grinned. "Dunham's started the GSE, first my old man, then Steve..."

"And now you?" he snorted. "You think your big brother is going to step down and hand you the keys to the kingdom because you say please and thank you? Fucking hell, Dunham, are you honestly that desperate to prove yourself?"

"Nah mate," Pete laughed. "I'm not here to prove jack shit. This..." he sighed. "This I'm doing just for fun,"

He charged forward, stopping only when someone clocked him from the side; this time the earth really did shift as he was shoved into the wall nearest to him, his head hitting the brick and making him shout out in pain. Straightening up, he looked up at his assailant more than ready to take them down when he froze, the light blue eyes so like his own pinning him there and for whatever reason making him cold with fear.

"If I tell you to wait for me," Steve growled at him, clutching his throat hard enough to keep him from breathing properly. "You fucking wait,"

"Just getting the crowd warmed up," Pete gasped. "You're welcome, bruv,"

"Shut up." Steve snapped at him, glancing over his shoulder to where Terry was sorting things out, the GSE boys diving into the fray and levelling the Yids before most of the poor bastards had a chance to even pull their fists back.

"You went to the match,"

"Yeah, and?" Pete frowned.

"When I throw you a bone, I don't want to know if you like it or not, or whether I should go with a more upmarket brand of dog food," Steve told him, his voice low and trembling with anger. "You just fucking smile and say thank you, do you get me sweetheart? This is my firm. And you're here because I say so. Likewise, if I tell you to fuck off. You had best fucking run,"

"Fuck me, you sound just like the old man," Pete hissed at him, rubbing his throat which he knew was already close to bruising.

"Good," his brother met his eyes and looked at him with disdain. "At least he'd be proud enough of one of us to carry on the family name. You reckon he'd be impressed with you at uni, getting stickers on your homework and chasing posh pink that won't even put out?" he laughed. "Nah mate, Dad didn't have time for you because he knew what we all did. You're a fucking failure, Pete. Always have, always will be,"

Pete stared at him for a long moment, hating the fact he could feel the sting of tears in his eyes. He wanted more than anything to scream at him, tear him to pieces, tell him he'd rather be dead than end up like their father. But he couldn't. Partly because it wasn't true, all he had wanted was his father's approval and Steve was the next best thing. And he'd fucked that up now, too. Just like he fucked up everything else.

"Now do yourself a favour and go home," Steve shoved him hard. "Before this gets really out of hand," he glared at him. "And I don't mean with that lot,"

Pete felt the fight evaporate from his body and slumped back against the wall, hating himself more in that moment than he could ever recall. All he'd wanted was the chance to prove he could do it, that he could take over the GSE and be who his dad had always wanted him to be.

Snorting, he watched his brother as he walked away, grabbing one of the reds by the neck and slamming him into a phone box.

He knew damn well who his father wanted him to be. Who even the boys wanted him to be. Steve. All hail Steve fucking Dunham.

Turning, he ran down into the tube station and caught the doors just before they closed, resting his head against the glass and breathing deeply. There was only one person he had ever been good enough for, who had never asked him to be anyone but who he was. And he had hurt her so badly, he wasn't sure she would even speak to him now.

But he had to try because he needed her. He loved her. And right now, she was all he had.