Sort of short chapter, but it's another 'tie-up-a-few-loose-ends' type. Thank you so much for the reviews so far. I own nothing but my own characters.

And my thumb hurts because i've cut it haha

--

The Dragon and the Rose

Chapter Eleven

Don't wanna break apart

Swill walked into the living room, Libby sat on the sofa, reading a magazine. 'Babe,' he said. 'I'm off to a match tomorrow.'

'Alright,' she replied, absent-mindedly.

'And… I might not be back till late.'

'Hmm-mm.' She flicked over a page and continued to read. Swill frowned.

'I think your mum's fat.'

'Okay.'

'And I'm wearing your underwear.'

'Yes.' Swill grinned. He could have fun with this!

'You 'ave a bucket fanny.'

'Yeah, I know.'

'You kiss like a fish?'

'Alright.'

'I wank over gay porn.'

'Yeah, okay.'

'Your dad looks like the India off YMCA.'

'Swill, you haven't even met my dad.' She looked up with raised eyebrows. 'What else were you saying?'

'Nothing,' he said quickly. 'Just that I'm off to a match tomorrow.' She nodded, checking her watch.

'Well, I'm taking Jenny to Don's. Don't get too hurt.'

'I won't,' he sighed, watching as she got off the sofa and headed up the stairs. He stood there in the silent living room, shoulders sagging slightly. What had happened to them?

They used to always have fun and now it was all fucked up. She was distant and was always with Scott or round at Don's.

The fucking baby adverts were all lies; they always showed couple together, deep in love, holding their baby and being all happy.

This was not how Pampers or Huggies showed it. It was all fucking lies and Swill hated it.

--

Pete, can I talk to you please?' asked Lucy, coming up behind him as he stepped out the Abbey. Pete turned with a frown.

'Hurry up; I've gotten catch the train for the match.'

'It's about the firm.'

'What about it?' Lucy paused for a moment.

'Well… I was thinking about us all. And… How would you feel about ending it?'

--

'I can't believe we just lost that,' Swill complained. '3 fucking 2. I can't believe it! Fucking own goal!' Swill stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking up as Leicester City's Baby Squad appeared.

'Yeah, but can they beat us here?' Pete replied with a cocky grin, looking down at the blonde leader of the firm. Paul smirked back, a brick in one hand.

'Look who it is, boys.' His lisp was as humorous as last time they had fought. Swill snickered.

'When you say boys, it sounds very feminine,' he laughed. Paul glared at him.

'I'm not gay.' He stepped forwards, the cocky smile back on his lips. 'Come on boys. Let's 'ave them!' Swill leapt forward, pinning Benny against the wall and smashing a fist in his jaw. Paul rounded around Pete, laughing, before chucking the brick. Pete ducked, though it caught his arm.

'Do you always play before you fight?' asked Pete, spinning around and grabbing his shirt. His foot came out, kicking Paul off balance, so he was being held up by the front of his shirt. Pete punched him in the chest and gut, before kicking him away and giving him a left hook in his face. Paul groaned, covering his bleeding nose with his hands. Swill kicked Benny away, darting forward to help Dave and Ike, as they got kicked into the ground by the bigger group.

'Come on then, you cunts!' yelled Swill, dancing around them and dodging a blow from a pockmarked man. His fist swung upwards, connecting with the man with a dull thud. Bov was flung to the floor, scraping his hands as he fell. Rolling onto his back, he slammed his fist into Danny's balls, before rolling out the way as the older man fell. Paul got to his feet, but Pete slammed a fist in his face once more. He fell backwards, putting out his arms. He was breathing hard, eyes shut against the hail of rain that was sweeping down on them.

There was a sudden cry from Bov and the men turned to see him curled on his side, Danny staggering backwards.

'Yeah, you fucking cunt!' he laughed. Pete got to his feet, slamming a fist in Danny's face and moving to Bov.

'What's wrong, mate?' he frowned.

'My fucking arm,' Bov hissed, rolling onto his back.

'Dave!' The dark haired man appeared. 'Get Bov up and get to the car. We'll catch you up.' Dave nodded, helping Bov to his feet, before turning on Danny.

He grabbed his shirt, head butting him with a growl. Danny slumped, blood bursting from his nose.

'Stop, stop!' he wheezed. Paul scrambled over, pulling him away.

'Another time,' he said, as Benny came to help drag him bleeding man away.

'Cunt' Pete muttered, before jogging off with the other guys towards the car.

--

'What the fuck 'appened to you?' sighed Lucy when Bov finally got in. 'The match finished ages ago- what 'appened to your arm?'

'I broke it,' he replied, glancing down at the sling. Lucy sighed, rubbing her eyes.

'Bov, please. Can't you just stop fighting?'

'What?' he frowned at her.

'You 'ave a son now! I want you and Pete to stop the firm.'

'Don't be stupid,' he muttered, moving past her and into the kitchen.

'Stupid? You think I'm being stupid?' She shook her head.

'We've 'ad this conversation!' he replied, standing over the sink. Lucy sighed, coming behind him. He turned to face her.

'Bov, I'm being serious. You 'ave to make a choice. Me or your fights.' Bov stared at her for a moment in disbelief.

'Are you kidding me?'

'No, I'm not,' Lucy replied. 'Choose. Now.'

'Of course I fucking choose you,' he said, pulling her into him. 'I can't believe you'd-'

Lucy placed a hand over his mouth. 'Please, Bov. I know how 'ard it is for you, but it 'as to end sometime. Will you still going to be running around in the firm when you're forties? Fifties?' Bov muttered something behind her hand, pushing it away gently.

'I guess… we'll stop… I'll 'ave to talk to Pete.'

'I already 'ave,' she replied, looking up at him. 'It was your say that was to finalize it. The GSE's finally over.'

'Christ…' he muttered, before resting his head against hers.

--