Y'all are so sweet. Keep reading so i have a reason to bother :p
Seriously thought, appreciated.

They dropped Emily off at the church, brought the cookies to the small reception hall in the back and were about to make their way out when Emily stopped them. "It's just a small Evensong service but it would be awfully nice to…"

"Well, I'm Catholic so…" Liam began.

Carla had to choke back a cough. "You're about as Catholic as… well, me. Which is not."

"You know, church is church. Same god and…"

"We'll stay."Carla said sweetly as Emily went to say hello to a friend.

Liam went to peak out the window. "Nope…. Seems okay."

"What?"

"No pigs flying and yet somehow Carla bloody Connor said we'd stay at church. And me man int even here to force us so I dunno what's goin' on."

"I didn't want to disappoint her," She said.

"Softy."

"And I didn't want to go home."

He paused, about to reach out to her then stopped and balled his hands into fists. "You know…" Carr, I'd never make you go home. We could have…"

"What Liam? Gone back to yours."

He said nothing.

"Maybe this is a good place to be stuck. Maybe I need confession," she tried to make it sound funny but he saw the sadness and slight turbulence reflected in her eyes.

"Well now, you really do know nothing. There's no confession at this church!"

He smiled at the tactic and shrugged. "Yeah well sod off."

At that an older woman walked by clucking her tongue in disapproval.

"It's almost like we're kids again." She said smirking.

That should be cute, funny even. God knew it was true. But he didn't want to think of the past today. He felt shit enough already.

The service was simple and short. The choir, minus one tone deaf old woman, was very good. Carla doubted they turned away those eager to partake and sing but she felt, even God would understand had they turned that woman who sounded like a wounded wart hog away.

Emily said she would catch a ride with one of the older bake sale volunteers. Liam nodded as he could not speak with all the snacks he felt inhaling.

"Typical," Carla murmured, getting into the driver's seat.

"What?" He said, mouth full.

"Faced with an extremely good looking lost sheep, those church ladies went mental and could not stop feeding you."

"Lost sheep?"

"Not a church boy… not a good boy. And -"

"And apparently VERY good looking," he said, grinning and wiping his hands on his jeans.

"Is this supposed to make me embarrassed, that you caught me calling you good looking? Liam if we were young maybe but you KNOW what you look like and also…. Maybe since my face attacked your face earlier, it's a given."

He coughed and then nodded.

"Now who's shy."

"Confused. Not shy."

"Bullshit. Confusion is ours to own, but you've always been a tad…"

"Not shy Carr." He looked at her severely. "Just… struggling to hold back."

They sat in silence and she turned the car off the main road and down a side street. She pulled over, inhaled, seemed to stare at nothing and sighed. He didn't have the nerve to say another thing.

"You canNOT say something like that to me whilst I'm driving Leebugs."

The use of her daft nickname for him calmed him but she seemed so shaken and annoyed.

She turned to face him, muttering obscenities as she flung off her seatbelt. There were numerous things to say, even more she should not but distractions were not helping. No song on the radio, no stupid novel, no work project and not even church with Emily Bishop.

"What do you mean?" He let out. Same worried boyish expression he wore whenever facing something not always easy.

"You tell me you are always… struggling and that's why you seem shy sometimes. And I'm no shrinking violet, Liam. I am the kind of woman who reads into those remarks for exactly what they are. You can't tell me you struggle not to… to…"

"Fucking ravish you?"

She gasped, annoyed as hell at herself for a very regency heroine reaction. "Yes," she breathed. "You can't tell me that while I'm driving. I mean you likely should not tell me that at all. But especially when I can't even clench my thighs together."

He read the dirty remark and felt like suddenly his jeans were too tight but he also wanted to laugh. Fucking hell, how did she always manage to make him turned on and wanting to just have a laugh. That and often rip his hair out.

"Yes," she said, And she didn't even know why she'd said that affirmation again. Maybe it was, she realized, more of a request. More of a 'please.'

"Carla…." he took off his seatbelt and she bit her plump bottom lip. Hell, he'd seen her do that so many times, all of which affected him. But now… not the context wasn't cloudy. They both knew what it meant and to whom she meant it and he had no bloody idea how to not react exactly as he had earlier in his kitchen, reaching for her and panting like a desperate teenager.

His hand held her face and she held it. Not moving an inch closer. "Liam… I…"

"You need?"

She let out her throaty laugh. "Ha, I need so many things, right now especially, but not in this car and not … yet."

"I can't believe what I'm like. I should be so sorry right now, so angry… I am angry but more than we're not in my room and less about the fact I'm going straight to hell."

"You?" She squeezed his hand and let out a very sad smile. He might." He was heavy on her tongue, the name of her husband would not come out. "Me? Maybe. You, never."

"Don't be a cow," he said, rubbing her chin with his thumb and smirking. "You know no one knows better than I that while you're fucking mardy and enraging most days you're also a fucking soft touch."

"A soft touch?" she beamed, and tried to be sarcastic. "Never!"

"Take us home, please."

She bit her lip again. "Liam...I…"

"We will figure out what to say but I just want us to not end this evening like this right here."

"You know boys in school would say similar things and they always only meant one thing and -"

"Drive, woman."

She laughed and took them back to number 7.

"I don't want tea," she said, a downturned expression and annoyance in her eyes.

"But surgery…"

"It wasn't a heart transplant Liam! And it were weeks ago. I am okay to have a wee bit.. Just a dram… please."

He stood up and went to the cabinet and returned with two glasses.

"What? That easy?"

"I didn't want to hear you say 'please' again… you'll kill me."

She moved her feet up under her on the settee and moved closer to him. "Do you remember how many times we've sat and drank together like this. Even when we'd nearly have a knock down row?"

"I rather not think about it to be honest."

She frowned and nudged his arm.

"Every time, every time I felt like this only without knowing for sure if you felt the same hell as I did and maybe you did not but…"

"I did," she said then shook her head. "Well, truth be told, maybe not. Not at first. I thought it was butterflies for a hot young guy who was there. Normal like. I thought it was fun. I liked how he controlled me… bossed me about just enough to make me feel like I could for once not be the only grown up I knew."

He didn't expect all of that. He really did not and it hurt and helped.

"I was so fucking young when we met. God, how I wanted the cliche saviour… no burning bras for me I guess."

"I don't think it makes you old fashioned…"

"Still can be a feminist then?" she joked, but her smile never reached her eyes.

"Yes," he was too serious. Liam was never that serious unless he entered a sulk and she hated not knowing, for once, what he'd say next. "You were young and bloody raised yourself and you wanted a some care… simple really. Who doesn't want that?"

"You."

"I always had it Carr. Mam is annoying. Dad is … rather whipped. But I had them and Paul. And he should have taken care of you and -"

"I have a roof over me head and a life where I am not in those flats… I have a lot… but I misjudged the woman he'd want in return. Liam, I hate him. You have to love him but I don't. I can't be with someone even one more time who… who's fucking laying with some tart one minute and hurting my feelings for no fucking reason the next. I need to leave."

He nodded. "I want to kill the man who hurt you and yet why does it have to be him."

"Why does it have to be you I'm sat here with… wanting to lean in and forget the rest of my shit life?"

He wanted to say how he'd been cursing "why her" for years not but he was tired of confessions. She was right, he was not very Catholic.

So he did what felt much more natural. He wrapped his arm around her and let her snuggle up against him.

"This is mad," she said. Not he felt her smile against his chest as she snuggled even closer. She felt she damn well needed to inhale him to ground her.

"Yes," he said, kissing her head lightly. "You can take my room. I will sleep in the shit guest one."

"Liam that's not -"

"It is necessary…."

"He will wonder where I am…"

As if by magic - and the rule of awful timing - Liam heard his phone buzzing on the table. He knew who it would be.

She was quiet and then reached for his phone, her smile now one of sheer pain and irony. "He's your brother. I am not forgetting that." She handed him the phone.

He got up and paced to the kitchen, his hand running through his messy hair and answered. "Heya."

"Hey," Paul said. His voice was neutral but then why shouldn't it be. Liam shook his head, trying to ward off the knife size pain in his chest - guilt - no matter how shit his brother was being, he knew what the feeling was, guilt. Same feeling he'd pushed away since the night he met Carla and felt a pang of intense sadness and rage when Paul charmed her so easily.

He'd been little more than a boy - a daft one at that. He knew all the reasons he was where he was now and if Paul had any sense and any loyalty and any idea how lucky he'd been than Liam could maybe, just maybe, have gotten through the rest of his half life looking for others, being the good boy he'd always just about been.

"Earth to Lia,. You there?" Paul was smiling. Liam could hear it.

"Yer I am… sorry, was just… busy in the kitchen."

"Yeah well don't strain yourself," Paul said. "Let's go get some food and a pint."

"Food?"

"Yes food, Liam, that stuff we eat to survive and enjoy…listen, you alright?"

"Yeah...yer i'm fine."

Carla looked at Liam and saw the hunch in his shoulders, the tension in his hand holding the phone, heard his awkward replies. She felt like the trash Helen Connor would think she is, playing brother against brother. Never mind there was no playing, she still half agree in that moment. Liam deserved to have his brother, idiot or not.

She stood up and grabbed her coat and keys.

When he heard the shuffling Liam turned around and motioned for her not to leave. SHe paused but had made up her mind.

He hung up the phone after some mumbling and went to her. She was shaking her head with a sad and defeated smile. "Go have your tea…" she said, avoiding his gaze while she got her jacket on. "Just go and if he asks, say i'm out with Michelle or shopping - he seems to think I only like shopping and wine. I'm a desperate housewife parody to him so he will believe it all."

"Carla.."

"No, Liam. Thank you letting me hang out with you. And before you say anything, I know we're us… I know you 'ave me back. Always. Don't worry."

She barely looked at him as she left the house and he felt her sadness in his bones. Or was that his.

Liam sat down in a booth in the unicorn that was a slightly more upscale Rovers - offering more than hot pots anyway - as Paul came back to the table with his pint. "She said she'd bring over the rest. But I really needed this, fuck." he downed half his pint as Liam fidgeted with the coaster on the table.

"Something gone on?" Liam asked, not knowing if he wanted it to be good or bad.

"Can't I just want to see me own little brother?" Paul laughed when Liam raises one eyebrow.

"Hey!"

"We see each other most every day...work, pub...repeat - wow what exciting lives we lead." Liam muttered.

"Oh no," Paul let out on a breath and leaned back pushing his beer a bit away. "Don't tell me you're in one of your sulks. You don't seem the existential crisis type lil bro, but every so often there comes this dark cloud and we're all in for the Liam sulk."

"How am I sulking jus' cos I admit we live very boring lives."

"It's life innit?" Paul shrugged.

Fuck there was so much in that shrug he should have known before. Was Paul actually okay with the status quo, the humdrum, the work and hardly no play and rinse and repeat or was he okay with it because he got his taboo bad boy jollies off somewhere he should not? Or was he in a deeper and ore perpetual sulk and this was… just a front.

Liam hated himself for only started to be even remotely perceptive in his 30s. What a fucking late bloomer, he thought bitterly. No one Carla hadn't been - he stopped himself from finishing the thought and tried to smile politely at the waitress as she brought him his beer and chips and Paul his burger. But his lips barely tilted enough for her to register it.

Paul noticed and cocked his head to the side. "You sure you're feeling alright?"

"Nah, just life and a headache innit." Liam half echoed his earlier statement trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice

Paul clinked their glasses and shook his head. "Lee, you gotta buck up, you're bad company."

"I don't exist just to help you have a good time."

"Wow!" Paul scoffed and laughed at once and the sound was grating. "Now you sound exactly like your sister in law."

It was weird, he'd heard it a million times but he hit him oddly this time. He could have said "my wife" or "our Carla" as he usually did. Why sister in law this time. Because life was cruel, that's why. He'd known that for years, smiling or not.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Liam asked.

"That you're doing me head in mostly," Paul said, rolling his eyes. "Did I SAY you only exist for that reason? You exist cos mam and da drank a bit too much wine one night is likely the reason."

Liam could barely muster up the energy to pull a sickened face as usual. At this Paul actually looked concerned for half a moment.

"Okay, since you're immovable in your sour mood I'll get to the point, since apparently there is no fun to be had, can you fill in for me at the factory Friday… we have a meeting with a supplier. But I can't make it."

"Usually you don't trust me all that much."

"It's an easy client."

Wrong answer, Liam thought. But of course it was.

"Where you off to?" He asked, more concerned for Carla than for his own pride.

"I have a meeting with a potential investor down south, quick dinner and drinks meet later on Friday but may stay til Sunday."

"Because?" Liam had never been a great actor, and Paul pulled a face.

"Why the inquisition?" Paul asked.

"One question is the inquisition?"

"You really do spend too much time with our Carla."

"Someone should…" He didn't know if he'd said that by accident or on purpose.

"You have summat to say, brother?" Paul asked, leaning back and trying to read the conflicting expressions dancing across Liam's face.

"No," he shook his head and looked up. It wasn't a give away to express remote concern. Hell his mother near hated Carla and this would have her even poking and prying in disappointment. Vows were vows. "Only… is there something you want to say to me?"

"You asking if …" He shook his head. "Get yer mind out of the gutter. I flirt and laugh like you and like any other read blooded man I have eyes, I look."

"Just look?" Shut up Liam, he could hear Carla in his ear. She did not want his or anyone's interference.

"Yeah just look. Why?"

"You're acting cagey is all."

"Me?" Paul let out another half laugh. "Pot kettle kid."

Liam shrugged.

"I like that you're trying to keep me honourable. Mam would be proud."

"Funny." Liam snorted.

"Well, don't fret ok. I'll be back Sunday.

Liam texted Carla when he got back to his. No reply. No reply after his shower, a guilt ridden and confusing shower that had him first trying to relax and wash away the guilt and tension and then had him rubbing one out thinking of how she looked at him in the car only hours earlier. How she bit her lip, saying he should not say such things to her in public. The small movement that showed she was clenching her thighs. The way her eyes held his. The way she shivered when he touched her.

No reply after the shower. No reply as he got into bed.

Just before he was about to drift off his phone - usually on vibrate but now left on loud - let out an awkward bleep.

"I'm not good at ignoring you." it said.

He smiled and sat up.

"Good." he replied.

"Very bad actually."

Before he could reply she'd sent another. "Don't say summat cheesy now."

He laughed and deleted his message.

"Can you sleep?" he asked.

She replied with, "Maybe after."

"After what?" he asked, his hand already moving to his crotch.

"After I figure out a way to relax myself."

He paused, waiting for her follow up.

"Just know that. Goodnight Leebugs. Xx"

He knew that was the last message for the night, but it was enough. It was both too much and not enough actually but it would do.

TBC.