Ok. So I was meant to post this last night as a Valentine's day present to you guys for reading my nonsense for eight straight years but of course, my mac went loco and I lost 90% of my writing. I can get it back but its just waiting for the cloud to play ball which is surprisingly longer than you'd think. The next chapter of Green Street Rising is coming tomorrow but this...

this is something I almost wish I hadn't done because its made me realise how much I miss writing Allie and Pete was they were in Intervals. This chapter wasn't written for this purpose, I originally had this as the ending -an after credits scene if you will- and so I hope you guys enjoy it.

As proud as I am of all my writing, Intervals is probably the best thing I've put my hand to and you guys are the loves of my literary life for responding to it as you did. So here, for your consumption, 24 hours too late, I give you one last cheeky dose of Intervals... ;)

One of the earliest memories Pete Dunham had was of his mother curled up in bed with him, her eyebrow split from his father's ring and her face gleaming with the tracks of tears, stroking his hair and whispering into his ear 'The darkest nights bring about the brightest stars'.

Christ knows why it had stuck with him but it had; at the time he hadn't even been certain what she meant by it but then he had met Allie Harding and the sentiment hadn't been quite so mysterious.

Trying to remember what life was like before her as he lay out here in his colossal garden, staring up at the stars, he frowned and felt suddenly cold. As corny and shitty as it sounded, there hadn't been a life before Allie. There had been football matches, far too many hangovers, girls whose names he couldn't remember darting out of his flat the next morning leaving their numbers which he would gladly throw in the trash. There had been good memories, don't get me wrong but nothing…nothing like the life he had now.

Taking a long sip of champagne and reaching down blindly for the bottle to refill the flute, he chuckled as the moonlight caught his wedding ring, making it gleam like a halo around his finger. The party had died down hours ago, various faces he didn't know waving him goodbye until all that was left were those he loved more than life. He was, as always, the last man standing with his own daughter coming in a close second having been caught sneaking down at 3am to get more cake when Pete threw her over his shoulder and dragged her back upstairs. Not unlike her mother, she had thrown some serious pouting his way before conceding to get back into bed if he stayed with her and told her the story of how he and Allie had met. The Prince saving the Princess from the evil Goblin on the train was one that never seemed to get old.

The few floating candles that remained on the pool's surface and hadn't yet melted into nothing cast a warm, amber glow on his surroundings and he stretched, casting his eyes back up to the heavens as he tried to muster the strength to rise to his feet and head inside.

"Thank God you're out here,"

His eyes which had begun to close snapped back open and he smirked, craning his neck back to see over the head of the lounger.

Allie's arms snaked around his chest from behind, her lips finding his cheek and letting him feel the smile on her face as she drummed her long, elegant fingers against his suit clad chest.

"After the lap dance Swill gave you earlier, I thought I might have finally lost you to the other side,"

Pete laughed and scooted over, reaching up to loop an arm around her waist before pulling her down to him. She had released her hair from its plaited up-do so it was falling around her face in loose waves, the lace gown she had been wearing earlier replaced with her usual flannel pyjama shorts and a tight grey t shirt but somehow, as she always did, she looked perfect.

His girl.

"Nah, I'm biding my time with that one," he winked at her, pulling her legs across his lap and holding her to him. "Swill's the type that needs to be wined and dined, you can't just go straight in there,"

"Jesus Christ," Allie covered her eyes as Pete laughed, burying his face in her neck. "It's going to take something industrial to get that image out of my head,"

She closed her eyes for a long moment and breathed him in, grinning when upon opening them she realised that underneath his thousand pound Savile Row suit, he was wearing the West Ham socks Poppy had insisted on buying him for Christmas with her pocket money.

"I can 'ear your brain tickin' away, blondie," he growled in her ear. "And before you go givin' me grief, I'll 'ave you know one of your poncy fashion friends complimented me on those socks,"

"Jack is gay and wants to shag you," Allie tapped his nose. "It doesn't count,"

"Yeah but can you blame him?" Pete raised an eyebrow, gesturing grandly down to himself. "I might be a bit of East end rough but I scrub up well,"

"Of course I know that," Allie tossed her hair over her shoulder, inching closer to she was more or less sitting in his lap. "Your looks are give or take the only reason I married you,"

"Fuck off," Pete laughed, ruffling her hair. "What's the give or take then?"

"Oh…about eight inches," Allie winked, giggling into his chest when he threw his head back and let out a loud, hearty laugh. The one that made her stomach break out in butterflies; she remembered the first time she had heard it, the day he had found her sitting in the south bank café and after wolfing down fish and chips, they had gone to the nearest pub to play pool, her way of letting him win some of his money back. To this day she couldn't remember what she said to get that reaction from him and truth be told, it didn't matter. All that mattered was how warm she had felt when he had laughed like that, his eyes twinkling at her, sealing her fate once and for all.

"Harding!" Pete clutched his chest, feigning outrage. "That was utter filth!" he winked. "I've never been so proud,"

"Eleven years of knowing you does terrible things to a girl's moral compass," Allie nuzzled his neck, breathing him in deeply as his hands moved from her hair down to the curve of her waist, one of them sweeping up and down her bare legs soothingly.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he smirked into her hair, turning his gaze back to the stars as like a kitten, she settled against him, finding a comfortable position and nuzzling into his chest.

"D'you remember the last time we sat out 'ere like this at 3am?" Pete murmured, reaching back for his suit jacket which was draped over the back of the lounger and throwing it over her. "Suited and booted, bottle of champagne…"

"Just married and wondering what the hell we were going to do next?" Allie smiled, pulling his jacket tighter around her. "Jesus, that was eight years ago,"

"I know," Pete let out a long breath, trying to fathom how much had changed in that time.

They had gained a son and a daughter, lost Lara, seen Steve and Shannon separate and get back together, watched Dave get married and just this evening watched Matt Buckner receive a phone call from his publisher telling him that Green Street was officially a best seller on both sides of the pond.

To say things had changed would be an understatement.

"Do you regret any of it?"

Allie blinked, uncertain if she had heard him right. Straightening up so his jacket slid from her shoulders, she faced him dead on and rested her hands on his shoulders, shaking him slightly.

"The only thing I regret, Dunham is not meeting you sooner," she bit her lip and met his eyes. "How is it after this long you still don't get how much I love you?"
"I know you love me," Pete smiled warmly, his hands cupping her face and brushing her cheek bones as though she were made of glass. "But it ain't been easy, has it?"

"Fuck, how bored would we have been if it was?" she laughed and then narrowed her eyes. "Is this your way of asking for a divorce?"

"A divorce?" Pete's eyes widened. "Fuck no, I'll just put up with ya. I don't 'ave the money plus you're far too good in bed. I'd keep you around just for that,"

"See?" Allie giggled, slapping him playfully. "And to think people say romance is dead,"

Pete linked his fingers through hers, taking a moment to kiss her wedding finger and then turned his attention back to the sky, pointing upward to draw her attention.

"See that?"

Allie followed his gaze, cocking her head and leaning it against his until they were both focused on the same spot.

"Our daughter gave me a right schooling in astrology earlier when I was tryna drag her upstairs," Pete smirked at Allie's laughter and grabbed her hand, intertwining it with his before pointing back up at the stars, drawing the lines between them as Poppy had shown him. "That star there is called Lyra; there's this whole story behind it about Orpheus and Eurydice about how they fell in love but she got trapped in the underworld so he had to go down to get her."

"Uh huh," Allie pursed her lips. "I remember you telling me this on one of our early dates," she smirked. "Points for the seduction attempt but didn't Eurydice get left in the underworld after Orpheus broke his promise to Hades and looked back?"

"Poppy still hasn't gotten over the fact Mufasa gets fucked over by wildebeest in the Lion King," Pete stared at his wife as though she was insane. "You reckon I'm telling her that?"

"Point taken," she laughed, recalling her daughter's week of mourning after watching the film at a friend's birthday party.

"Anyway," he shook their still intertwined hands and brought her attention back to the stars. "I told her that was kind of like you and me but in reverse. I was the one in the dark, dangerous place and you…you walked straight into the fire to pull me out,"

Allie turned to face him, her eyes stinging as she caught the smile on his unfathomably handsome face as he continued looking upward.

"You were the brightest star,"

He turned to face her and saw the tears in her eyes, opening his mouth to tell her not to be so soft when suddenly she was against him, her hands on his chest, working their way up until she was clinging to his neck, her mouth moving on his in a way that made him forget his own name.

"How come I didn't get this reaction when I told you that story on our fifth date?" Pete mumbled, feeling her smile against him as his tongue swept over her lips.

"If memory serves, you did," Allie slapped his hand away from her behind and he laughed. "Yeah and I remember getting that reaction, too."

"Fuck me, if I'd 'ad known this is where I'd be a decade later," Pete shook his head, tucking her hair behind her ears and meeting the same emerald eyes he had woken up to for the last eleven years. Christ, he loved her. In that old black and white movie kind of way, the type of love he used to think was utter bollocks. But here he was with this imp of a girl who he could probably lift one handed and yet she had moved his entire world; stumbled into the darkness for him and one giggle, kiss, touch, look at a time, she had placed a star in the sky.

"I didn't think I'd be alive," he laughed. "Chances are I wouldn't 'ave been, to be fair."

He watched a darkness pass over Allie's eyes and tightened his arms around her; Hatcher was something they hadn't spoken about in years. Not after the incident with Eddie at the wharf. It had taken nearly a year of therapy for Poppy to be able to sleep on her own and Pete had lost count of the nights he had woken up to Allie crying in her sleep, clutching her stomach. They had both mourned the child they had lost, the child they would never know. Truth be told, it had killed him; hitting him full throttle about a month later when Benjamin had found him sobbing in his classroom and breaking everything in sight.

It had been an uphill climb to where they were now and Hatcher, the mere mention of the name, was enough to cast a shadow over what they had built.

"Oh I don't know," Allie took in a shuddering breath, trying to force the tears back from her eyes. "You could be down the abbey right now, off your arse on a school night, going home with the bar maid…" she caught the roll of his eyes and laughed, pulling on his tie playfully. "No one using your new trainers as a colouring book, no one forcing you out of bed every Sunday morning to make pancakes, no one…"

"No one," Pete interrupted her. "Is the key word there, Harding. I'd have no one. I'd be a lonely, miserable fuck." He grinned. "I fuckin' love being a dad. That girl up there…she's a demon. Smartest cookie you'll meet, I mean the shit she comes out with. Not to mention she's a chip off the old block music wise. I don't think she realises how proud I was of her for raving 'er arse off to Arctic Monkey's tonight,"

Allie giggled, recalling the moment when her eight year old daughter had cleared a dance floor full of adults the second "I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor" had started playing and more or less started her own mini mosh pit.

"And as for Alex," Pete grinned. "The lad is a legend; he's easily two years above the average for his age with his X Box skills. And he's got no fear; he's a fuckin' idiot…remember when we 'ad to yank him out of the tree last week?"

"Vividly," Allie groaned, massaging her temples as she recalled the moment Poppy had run into the kitchen to inform them they needed a camera to get a picture of Alex in his Deadpool costume jumping out of a tree and into the pool.

"Yeah but he's got a heart of gold," Pete grinned proudly and Allie felt her heart swell. "To hell with the age difference, anyone that messes with Alex Dunham's sister is gonna be in for it,"

"And then…" Pete smirked, cupping her chin and bringing her face up to his. "There's you." He shrugged. "You're alright,"

"Really?" Allie laughed.

"Yeah," he drawled. "Might keep you around for a bit, see where this goes. You've got shit taste in films but you can do that thing with your tongue that ma-…"

"Enough!" Allie shrieked and giggled, covering his mouth with her hand and feeling him laugh against her palm.

"You know my favourite part of the day is watching you get ready to go out," Pete told her, his voice earnest as he gently pulled her hand away. "I love watching you do anything but when you're getting ready, all those tiny things you do. Like the way you pull your hair up and put perfume on the back of your neck, the way you walk around in your shoes and underwear like you're trying your best to fuckin' kill me," he snorted, recalling just this morning when she had innocently strolled past him in suspenders and not much else while he was trying to pick out a suit for tonight. "The way you always put your perfume back next to the picture of your mum and even though I don't think you realise you do it, you run your finger along the picture for just a second,"

He shook his head, trying to work out if he could actually get her to realise how much he loved her.

"We're eleven years into this and I still get the same butterflies as I did when I first talked to you; not even the first kiss, literally the first time I heard your voice." He smiled softly. "It was a combination of 'fuck me, how posh is your twatty accent' and 'Jesus Christ, I have to marry this girl',"

"Are you going soppy on me, Dunham?" Allie whispered, gently kissing his nose and grinning at him.

"It has a track record for getting me laid so absolutely," he winked back, pulling her on top of him so her legs were either side of his, her body plastered to his front without an inch of space between.

"You were the best choice I ever made," he pushed her hair out of her face and smiled softly. "You, Poppy and Alex…as long as I've got the three of you, I don't need nothin' else,"

Allie smiled back at him, closing her eyes for a short moment and pressing a kiss to his chest before sitting up and feeling a chill run down her spine, one she knew was everything to do with the butterflies in her stomach and nothing to do with the temperature.

"Four, actually,"

Pete raised an eyebrow at her, his hands stilling on her thighs as he shook his head lightly, trying to make sense of what the woman was saying. There was champagne, they were alone and she was already half naked…did she honestly think he was in the mind set for riddles?

"You said the three of us were all you needed," Allie spoke slowly, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "When actually…" she took his hand and led it up to her flat stomach. "There's four."

Pete's eyes widened and he froze, his fingers twitching against the flat expanse of her belly ever so slightly. What the fuck had she just said?

"You're…you're pregnant?" he breathed out, his heart pounding.

"Mmmmhmmm," she smiled, her face then turning serious. "Best part is, this time I'm a good 89% sure it's yours,"

"Be'ave," Pete laughed, playfully slapping her behind. "Are you serious?"

"I'm serious," Allie bit her lip to keep from grinning too wide; having seen it only twice in her life she honestly wondered if there was anything better than seeing the glow in Pete Dunham's eyes when she told him she was pregnant.

"You're pregnant," he repeated though this time it wasn't a question, his face breaking out into a huge grin as he yanked her down and kissed her hard, silencing her squeal of laughter.

After what had happened with Eddie, they had made an unspoken vow that they wouldn't try again for a while; they just hadn't factored on 'a while' becoming three years. Truth be told, Allie had started to worry that perhaps it wasn't going to happen until…

"Fuckin' Bounty bars," Pete growled in her ear, before pushing her up enough to look into her face and slapping his own hand across his forehead. "I should 'ave fuckin' known!"

Allie giggled loudly, knowing deep down that her craving for one of the damn things when they went to the cinema last week was enough for her to sneakily buy a test on the way home.

"'Ang about," Pete narrowed his eyes. "How long 'ave you known?"

"Since last week," Allie cringed at his colourful response. "I know, I know but this was Matt's big week, I didn't want to stroll in with my uterus and be all 'hey everybody, you know what's better than a book? A BABY!'"

"So that's why every shot you got handed tonight somehow ended up down my throat?" Pete laughed, tickling her side. "You cheeky minx, that last tequila nearly put me in my fuckin' grave,"

"It was for a good cause," she shook her head, giggling still when he reached up and kissed her deeply, his hands moving down her body to rest on her stomach and making her heart flutter.

"Another bloody Dunham," he whispered, kissing the tip of her nose and shaking his head. "I love the fuckin' bones of you, Harding,"

He meant it with every single fibre of his being, every cell in his body; fuck, he loved her.

"You put the lights on," he told her with a shrug that made tears sting her eyes as he pressed his lips to her throat and leaned his head against her, listening to her heart beating away while he slipped one of his hands under her t-shirt and pressed his palm against her taut stomach, thanking whatever or whoever the hell was up there not for the first time for bringing Allie Harding into his life.

"I love you, too," she whispered, kissing his forehead and leaning against him until suddenly a thought brought her crashing back down to reality.

"You do realise one of us is going to have to tell the kids,"

Pete pulled back from her and stared up at her suspiciously. He knew her game.

"Your daughter asks a shit load of questions," he narrowed his eyes. "I ain't ready for that,"

"You're a teacher," Allie shot back at him, jabbing his shoulder. "You're an educator,"

"I teach 'istory," Pete squinted at her and shook his head. "Beheading, wars, crucifixions, genocide…I'll teach her any of that you want but I ain't goin' near that sex talk shit. Why not just let 'er learn on her own?"

"Her uncles are Swill, Dave, Ike, Ned, Bovver, Matt, Benjamin and Harry," Allie snorted. "They're the eight dwarves of sexual delinquency; do you seriously want that?"

"Alright, fine," Pete leaned up on his elbows and held up his fist.

"You're kidding me, Dunham," Allie laughed, shaking her head.

"Rock, paper, scissors," he shrugged with pursed lips. "It's fair,"

"It's fair when you play with someone who doesn't cheat," she countered.

"How the fuck can I cheat at-…."

"Shut up," she reached into his pocket and ignored the grin he gave her. "I'm looking for a coin, you perv,"

"A coin flip?" he frowned. "Over the sexual education of our daughter,"

"What do you suggest?" Allie held up her hands in exasperation.

Pete smirked at her, leaning forward and pushing her down onto the lounger until he was above her, pulling off his already loosened bow tie, he lightly pressed his lips against her neck and felt her shiver.

"Last one to call it quits has the conversation," he murmured, one of his hands sliding up her legs.

"You're kidding me," Allie giggled against his lips. "You actually think you can-…"

"Do yourself a favour, Harding," Pete smirked, pinning one of her hands above her head and bringing his lips down to a hairs breath from her. "Save your energy,"

Allie laughed loudly as he rolled them onto the grass, his own laughter in her ear making her heart soar and something deep inside her twinge. This was her life; this perfect, crazy little bubble was hers and hers alone. She was certain, as was he that they didn't deserve any of it, each of them believing for their own reasons that one morning they would wake up and suddenly all of this would have been a dream.

But it wasn't.

This was theirs; and as Pete lifted her gently, peeling her shirt away from her body and moving his mouth over the warmth of her skin, Allie breathed his name against his bare shoulder, peering up and seeing the stars overlooking them. They made the darkness surrounding them seem beautiful, peaceful even. As though one without the other would be something entirely less astounding.

But then that was Allie and Pete. The darkness and the light. The brightest star in the deepest midnight. Perfect and eternal, as long as they were together.