A/N: Apologies for the delay in posting. I'm back from holiday and still trying to get back into the swing of things. I figured this was the best story to update first. :)

Also, how brilliant was Alison King in Monday's episodes? She is playing an absolute blinder!

Peter roused from his sleep, quickly aware that the warm, naked body that had been pressed into his was now glaringly absent from his bed.

"Carla?" he whispered, his eyes blinking to adjust through the darkness around him.

"I'm here," she whispered back from across the bedroom, her hands smoothing her shirt as she walked towards the bed and perched on the mattress near him, "you seemed so peaceful I didn't have the heart to wake you."

"What time is it?" He asked, leaning himself up onto his elbow and rubbing his eyes with the heel of his free hand

"Just about 11:00," she responded back, "I figured it best to leave now before I slept the night away."

Peter let out a chuckle, "That's pretty presumptuous of you," he whispered huskily sitting up and cupping Carla's cheek with his hand, "assuming we'd do nothing more than sleep the rest of the night away..." he gently pulled her head towards his, capturing her lips in his.

She responded to his kiss, her fingers placing themselves delicately on his jaw before pulling away softly, "As tempting as that is Barlow, I really don't want to confuse Simon," she said and Peter nodded in response. She dropped her hand from his face and shifted a bit uncomfortably on the bed, before bringing her fingers up to the bridge of her nose, "look Peter," she exhaled as she closed her eyes, "I'm not stupid enough to think this was anything more than what it was. I umm, I know this was just a one off, alright?" she opened her eyes and gazed into his, now warmly looking back into hers, "I mean, I get it, okay? I know that you're just rebounding from Leanne. I know where I stand 'ere, and I'm okay with that. I wouldn't change anything that happened," she smiled crookedly at him, "I had a great time tonight; the dinner and the movie with Si, and then, ummm well, you know..." a blush graced her cheeks as she awkwardly motioned to the bed with her head.

Peter chuckled at her nervousness, and placed his hand on hers, "Carla," he whispered, "do me a favour?" at her nod he continued, "go stick the kettle on, while I get some clothes on. I'm gonna make us a quick brew; there's something I want to talk to you about before you go, and then I'll call you a cab. I don't want you walking home on your own tonight."

"Peter-" Carla began to protest,

"No, Carla. I mean it! It's either a cab, or you stay here." He watched as she twisted her lips in frustration before nodding in agreement and rising to her feet. He smirked at her, "good! Now go on, make yourself useful," he stated, playfully slapping her ass. She chuckled and shook her head at him, jokingly saluting him as she headed off out of the bedroom.

Carla took a sip of her tea, her lip darting out along her top lip as she lowered the mug onto the table and drummed her fingers on the ceramic. Her eyes came to rest on the bookie, who sat leisurely next to her, his eyes playfully scanning her as she mulled over his proposition.

"I know it sounds odd, Carla" he stated, "but you are right: I'm not ready to get into anything serious right now. But I also don't want you to feel like you're just some rebound from Leanne." He leaned forward, his fingers gently grazing her forearm, "You know you mean so much more to me than that..." he trailed off

Carla exhaled, her eyes flitting from where his finger stroked the skin of her arm, and back up to his mischievous, yet warm, eyes. She placed her elbow on the table, her chin now balancing in the palm of her hand, "I know what you mean, Pe'er, it's just," she sighed audibly, "I don't know, I mean I wouldn't really know how to even begin with something like a casual relationship." Her eyes darted up and around the room as she shrugged, "I mean, when I was in me late teens I dated lads you know, and it were purely physical and stuff but, I mean, Paul were my first serious boyfriend, you know? My first real relationship really. And after that it were Tony," she visibly winced and scratched the back of her head, "and then Trev, but I mean, I feel like I may be getting a bit long in the tooth to be starting this kind of thing, now..."

Peter sputtered his tea, "Long in the tooth? Give over Carla, I've got about a decade on you..."

Carla laughed, "yeah but it's different for men, innit? I mean, you lot could have nothing but casual sex for the rest of your lives and be content! We have hormones that play havoc with our decision making sometimes." She sighed again, offering him a lopsided smile, "can I think about it?" she asked, "just for a few days?"

Peter snickered, "Carla I'm not some ogre that is demanding an answer immediately from you," she chuckled with him, "I can wait as long as it takes, and if you say no, I don't want you to feel as though that will be the end of us," he lifted her chin with his fingers, "as friends or otherwise. I know what I'm asking isn't exactly an easy decision and I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to run for the hills rather than get involved at all with someone with my kind of baggage..."

"Oh I have my own fair share of emotional baggage Barlow," Carla snidely pointed out, "or 'ave you forgotten I were nearly barbecued in me own factory by me ex-husband?"

Peter's face became serious, "no," he whispered, "I haven't forgotten..." he responded and smiled sympathetically at her.

Carla's smile fell, suddenly feeling very vulnerable under Peter's gaze. She squirmed in her seat before rising to her feet, taking her empty mug to the sink, "Look, I'll think about it Peter. I mean, I can't deny the appeal of an arrangement with all the fun, physical stuff and none of the emotional, mushy stuff is very tempting, but I just don't want to jump into anything especially with how busy things are at work right now." She lied, ensuring she kept her back to him as she spoke, not wanting to risk him seeing her true emotions.

The truth was she was hurt that he only wanted something physical with her. She knew it was too soon for him after Leanne to get into another relationship, but she felt that if she simply gave in to a friends with benefits situation with him, then things between them would never be more than that.

She knew enough about casual relationships to know that more often than not, they did not end well. One would always fall for the other and end up getting their heart broken.

She didn't need to be in a friends with benefits situation with him to know who would stand to lose in this scenario...

...She had already fallen for Peter Barlow...

She felt his arms encircle her waist and pull her against him, his cheek coming to rest upon hers. "I understand," he murmured in her ear, "Take all the time you need." He kissed her cheek, and nudged her to turn in his arms, which she complied with. He pressed his lips softly onto hers, his hands cupping both sides of her face as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, smiling as she responded in kind. Reluctantly pulling away he pressed another gentle kiss to her lips, and a last to her forehead as he stepped back from her.

Carla smiled at him and nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear, "Oh, I almost forgot!" she exclaimed as she sidestepped him, grateful to be putting some distance between them before her body won out the internal fight it was having with her brain. Grabbing her purse and searching through it, she found the handkerchief he had given her two nights prior outside the pub in Didsbury. Turning back, she held it out for him, "Thanks for this. Don't worry, I gave it a good washing," she said as he plucked it from her fingers, "Eh, I'd never 'ave pegged you for the kind of bloke that carries hankies in his jacket pockets." She chuckled.

Peter smirked, "Ahhh well that'll be me dad rubbing off on me," he snickered humorously before reluctantly grabbing the phone and dialing Streetcars to order a cab for Carla as she slipped her coat on.

"Lloyd says he'll meet you out front," He stepped in front of her, his arms encircling her waist once more, "you sure I can't tempt you to stay the night? I promise I'll be a gentleman and let you get one or two hours of kip..."

She laughed that throaty laugh he adored, "Give over, the only gentlemanly thing I anticipate from you Barlow is to see your handkerchief make another appearance when you go off gallivanting to save some other poor cow in distress," She rested her forehead briefly against his, before pressing a kiss to it, and pulling away, pausing briefly at the door, "Tell Simon I said goodnight, hey?"

"Of course. Night, Connor."

She smiled at him, "Night, Peter."

"...so that's with delivery and VAT," Carla stated, leaning over the table and tapping the pen on the corner of the spreadsheet, "so if you're satisfied with everything Frank, I'll just need your paw print, right 'ere," she flipped the contract to the final page, and placed the pen before him.

Frank took a moment to watch her as she smoothly picked up her glass of red wine and took a sip, her long eyelashes fluttering closed as the liquid passed her lips. His arousal grew more uncomfortable and he shifted in his seat, smirking as his eyes traipsed up and down her body quickly, before her eyes blinked back open and she lowered the glass but kept it firmly in her hand, her tongue running along her lower lip to catch the drops of wine that lingered there. Her eyes met his, and she raised her eyebrow in piqued curiosity, and he smiled at her, before leaning forward and scribbled his signature on the dotted line. Sitting back he watched as a smile broke out on her face, and she placed the wine glass back on the table.

"Well, I guess that means we're in business, then?" Carla asked, taking the papers and placing them in a folder next to her, and holding her hand out to him.

"We're in business!" Frank stated, taking her hand in his and shaking it but not letting go when she went to pull it back, "I am very much looking forward to working closely with you, Carla," he stated huskily, his eyes trailing from her eyes to her lips and back up again.

Carla, for a moment, was taken aback. She was so sure he was interested in Maria, not her. After all, Maria was sweet and innocent, and very much the beautiful girl-next-door. Carla however, knew she was the complete opposite. She knew her reputation in her line of work: ballbreaker, ice queen, sexy, but an all around shrew.

So why was Frank suddenly so flirtatious with her...?

"Oh, I'm sure you would have preferred my P.A. to be sitting where I am," she teased, falling into her typical flirty banter and offering him a coy smile, "but I'm glad you're not regretting slumming it with me in the end."

"Oh, save me the false modesty," he chirped back, tugging her hand so she was forced to lean in closer to him, "there is no one that I would rather be sat here with, than you," he stated, "and that includes your P.A..." he brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the soft skin of her fingers, smirking to himself at the confusion darting across her features,

"Carla!" a voice cried out, startling her from her current predicament. Her eyes looked up in time to see Simon pounce towards her and throw himself into her arms, as Amy ran past her behind the bar, Peter a few steps behind them; his eyes flashing annoyance into the back of Frank's head.

Peter had entered the pub to drop off Amy to her dad and Becky, with Simon in tow, just in time to see Frank pull Carla closer to him and lay a kiss upon her hand.

'Who the hell is this prick?' Peter questioned himself angrily, his lips pressing together to suppress his barely contained jealousy.

"Si!" Carla exclaimed returning the hug to the young boy, "what are you doing in here?" she raised her eyes playfully to Peter, "eh, you're not trying to put him off places like this that early are ya?" Her smile fell when Peter didn't respond, instead turning his jealous gaze from Frank onto her.

"Hey, young man," Frank stated animatedly, "What's your name, then?"

"Simon," the boy responded politely, leaning his back into Carla's legs

"Well, hello there Simon, I'm Frank." Frank held his hand out to the young boy, who reached back and shook it, "ohh quite a grip you've got there," Frank stated playfully and Carla couldn't help but smile at the interaction, but it was short lived as Frank rose to his full height and turned towards the bookie, "he must get that from you, I presume?"

"One of the few positive things he's inherited from his dad," Peter responded smoothly, holding out his hand to this 'client' of Carla's. "Peter Barlow," he introduced

"Frank Foster," the man replied, placing his hand in Peter's and giving it a shake with far more aggression than needed. "Please let me buy you a drink."

Peter chuckled to himself as he released his hand. The man was obviously as envious of Peter as he was of him…

"No thanks I'm uhh I'm not staying, I just came over to drop my niece off to her dad, and Si wanted to get some game or sommit that she has," he glanced at his son, "Simon, you best go up and get it, before Liz has a go at me for bringing you in here..."

"I'm just going to head to the gents," Frank stated to Carla, then leaned down close to her face, whispering something Peter couldn't make out. The bookie's eyes narrowed into slits as Frank's hand caressed Carla's hair almost possessively as his lips hovered above her velvety smooth cheek, before heading off to the toilets.

Simon turned to Carla, "dad said we could make a dinner tomorrow night like they did in Ratatouille, from scratch!"

"Did he now," Carla smirked at Peter, who smiled back at her, sitting down in Frank's now vacant seat, "didn't take you for the Gordon Ramsay type, Barlow..."

"Dad said we could make whatever I wanted," Simon continued to ramble, "but I don't know what I want to make yet, so we have to go the grocery store tomorrow and look around. Could you come with us?"

Carla was in shock at his question, her eyes darting between Peter and his son, "oh, Si, I'm not the best person in the kitchen. I usually eat microwaved meals..."

"Oh please, Carla, please!" Simon begged, jumping up and down in anticipation, "you can come with us to the store, and I promise I'll teach you like Remy taught Linguini!"

"Without all the biting I hope," she laughed, as she ruffled his hair

"Nah, he'll leave the biting to his dad..." Peter slyly stated, and Carla shot him a look, shaking her head as he smirked and winked at her

"Please, Carla!" Simon continued on, taking no notice of the exchange between Carla and Peter.

"Okay, Si, go upstairs and wait with your cousin, and I'll talk Carla into it," Peter ordered his son.

"Okay," Simon grumbled, before throwing his arms around Carla again, "bye Carla! See you tomorrow!" he happily shouted before running off behind the bar and through the back,

"Well, it seems my decision was made for me," Carla laughed as she faced Peter again, her smile receding as his eyes bore into hers, "what?" she asked hesitantly.

Peter's eyes dropped to her lips, before he could stop himself he reached out, his thumb lazily caressing her bottom lip, delighting in the way her breath hitched, as he did so,

"breathe, Carla." he ordered her gently, a smirk tugging at his lips as she obeyed him, "I'll take that as a 'Yes' to tomorrow night then, shall I?" Peter responded smugly just as Frank walked back to the table

"Not interrupting am I?" Frank asked smoothly, his eyes lowering to blaze onto Peter's hand which continued to caress Carla's chin and lower lip.

"Not at all," Peter responded as he stood up, "My son just left a smudge on Carla's chin, and I didn't want her walking around in a state," he winked at her, "I'm just going to head out for a fag," Peter stated, before leaning down and whispering in the factory boss's ear, "excuse yourself, and meet me out back in a few minutes." At her slight nod, he rose back up, "It was nice meeting you Frank."

"Likewise," Frank responded cooly, watching as the bookie made his way out to the back of the pub, "I best be off and all, Carla," he said leaning down and placing a kiss on Carla's cheek, "I'll see you on Monday."

"See you, Frank." Carla responded. She waited a few more minutes after he left, trying to wrap her mind around the evening's events, before packing her bag with her files, and rising to her feet, making her way out back to where Peter was stood waiting for her.

She sighed as she approached him, placing her tote on the bench and crossing her arms across her chest, "Do you mind explaining why I felt like I were in the middle of a pissing contest in there?" She asked snappily.

But the bookie didn't respond, he simply continued to glare at her as he blew the cigarette smoke from his mouth, "Well?" she asked in frustration.

Peter flicked the cigarette from his fingers and rushed towards Carla, taking her by surprise as he pushed her back into the wall, and crashed his lips upon hers. His hands grabbed her face keeping her mouth pressed against his as they devoured each other's lips, their tongues dancing ferociously with one another before Peter pulled away, watching in satisfaction as she moaned in disappointment at their sudden separation. His thumbs caressed her cheeks as he held her head steadily between his hands, "if you do agree to this arrangement with me, Carla, you're mine, and mine alone." he captured her lips in another passionate kiss, pulling away again and pinning her with his determined gaze, "I won't share you, even with that pompous ponce of a client of yours..."

"What are you talking about?" she breathed out, "Frank's a client..."

"He wants you," Peter gritted out, his jealousy evident in his tone, "and I hate that he had his lips on your perfect, smooth skin, when the only ones that should be devouring every inch of your body, are mine!" he hovered his lips above hers, keeping his body pressing into hers and pinning her against the wall, grinning in triumph as she tried to kiss him only for him to pull back ever so slightly from her reach, "do you want me, Carla?" he teased her, one of his hands slipping down between them and reaching under her skirt, "right here? right now?"

Her eyes closed as his fingers brushed against her underwear through her stockings, and Peter smirked, "say it, Carla..." he moved his fingers in small circles, feeling her hips move in tandem with his ministration and her eyes becoming damp with desire.

"Peter," she groaned against him, her lips reaching for his again only for him to pull back again,

"Say it, Carla" he ordered her more forcefully

"I want you," she breathed out, "right here, right now"

His lips crashed into hers, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her away from the wall and towards the smoking hut, pushing her into the dark corner as she giggled against him...

...unaware they were both being watched...