Greetings, one and all. I'm sorry this took so long to update, I had an 'out of fandom' spell but I've started to rewatch Hustle again and all the ideas I had for this fic came rushing back, so hopefully that means that I'm going to finish this. I want to finish it, so after a long wait, enjoy and let me know what you think :D


Chapter 13

"There must be some mistake, I didn't make a reservation," Mickey stated down the phone line. There was a pause. "Oh, okay. No, no, no, no - thank you." The call ended and he glanced across at them, "It seems my dinner reservation for tonight has been confirmed."

"I thought you didn't make one," Ash pointed out.

"I didn't," Mickey tapped a few times on the top of the mobile, "It was made by my wife."

"Rachel?" Albert stated surprised.

"But I thought you two..." Rosalind trailed off uncertainly. It was a bit of a touchy subject, she knew, even if she didn't know all the details of their divorce. She was, after all, only a child when it happened. She remembered the woman though, abet vaguely, pretty and she smiled a lot at Rosie, but she was more aware of the fact that she disappeared from her life, the same time that Mickey went to jail for the first time. It just wouldn't make sense if this was her - after all, what would they have to talk about after all these years?

"Who's Rachel?" Sean questioned.

"His ex," Ash inclined his head.

"Rachel and I haven't spoken for six years," Mickey stated, "There's no reason for her to invite me out to dinner suddenly."

Sean smirked. "Old times sake."

Rosalind rolled her eyes and kicked at Sean's feet.

"No, how would she get this number?" he placed the phone on the coffee table and directed to it, the cogs turning in his head at the mystery that needed to be solved.

"Well, if it wasn't Rachel..."

"Eddie's mystery bird."


Rosalind didn't know what to think about the strange woman that seemed to have taken an interest in Mickey. It was clear that the boys found it amusing and Emma was irritated, although she'd never admit it was through jealousy rather than professional concern, but for her, well, she just had a bad feeling. She had yet to reveal herself, yet she seemed to know a lot about them, including Mickey's new number, which he had only gotten a few months back.

She kind of wanted to advise Mickey against the meeting but she knew she wouldn't be listened to. Mickey was...Mickey, and once his curiosity was peaked, it was difficult to get him to think on anything else. Rosalind wondered whether this woman knew that. She hadn't expected the dinner invite though, when Mickey followed Emma from the bathroom and announced that maybe they should join him.

"For back up," he stated, "Watch from a distance, try and get your own read on her."

Suits and dresses were donned. Emma was clearly there to shine, her dress slinky and long, brushing the floor, and wonderfully highlighting the sway of her hips and the curve of her neck - and it was clearly taking effect. Mickey was having trouble keeping his eyes off her.

Rosalind almost felt underdressed in comparison, although there wasn't anyone for her to impress, anything for her to prove; a bit like the black sheep in the crowd. Her dress was simple, a dark blue, with a red belt around the clinched waist. In her flats, Emma - and everyone else - seemed to tower above her. She tried not to feel self conscious about it. She tried to tell herself it didn't matter, that she liked the dress and she liked flats and her face didn't look a complete mess, and she must be doing something right because she'd felt Sean's appreciative gaze on her back. At least, she hoped it was appreciative.

She tried not to let this please her so much.

She wasn't stupid. She knew that Sean was attractive. And charming. And fun to be around. She knew that, in the world she was in, the only people she'd have a chance of getting close to would be grifters, and that Sean was so much better than some of the men she had come across. She also knew that he was a ladies' man. A womaniser at worse. She'd been with guys like that before, and it just hadn't worked out. Besides, they were supposed to be working together. Business should never be mixed with pleasure.

It was just hard to keep that philosophy in mind when Rosalind found herself half pressed into his side at the round table. When he had swooped his arm out in an exaggerated gesture to let her in first. When he had grinned at her in the back of the cab and leant forward just enough to whisper a joke about Emma and Mickey.

He really wasn't playing fair and Rosalind was almost certain that he knew it.

The bastard.

So she focused her attention on her Uncle Mickey. That was why they were there, after all. The woman had arrived late, in a Marilyn Monroe style dress. She looked familiar - the sharp point of her features, the easy smile, the power in her stance - but Rosalind just couldn't place where.

"They look like they're getting on like a house on fire," Albert mused.

"Yeah, well, she's his type, ain't she?" Ash stated through a mouthful of food.

"His type?" Emma questioned, her voice a little harder, "How would you define that exactly?"

"Leggy brunette," was her reply.

"Unlucky sis," Sean teased.

"You're not helping," Rosalind murmured at him, with a short jap in his side.

He grinned at her and leant a little closer, the scent of his aftershave - musk and leather - wafted towards her. "I'm her little brother. I don't think I'm supposed to be helpful. It's in my job description."

She arched an eyebrow, a lips twitching upwards. "Job description? I want to see this contract. I always thought siblings are supposed to help you through things and protect you."

"Well, that's partly true. The other half is just being a general pest and under no circumstances, are you allowed to let siblings crushes go," Sean shrugged, as if there was nothing he could do to help it.

"This seems like a flawed system."

"And yet it has worked for hundreds of years."

"Must have its benefits then."

"Yeah, that I get to do the same back," Emma interjected, eyebrow raised.

Rosalind startled at the unexpected voice beside her. Sean seemed unaffected, although she was sure the tips of his ears weren't that red earlier.

"I...suppose that makes it a fair system then," she commented mildly and reached towards her wine. She caught her dad's gaze over the bottom of the glass and tried to look as innocent as possible. She was sure he didn't buy it, but no comment was made so she counted it as a win.

Sean glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes and smiled slightly, something that Rosalind wasn't able to resist returning before she lowered her attention to her half eaten plate determinedly.

"Why is he taking so long?" Emma complained.

"Mickey knows what he's doing," Sean assured.

"She's had four glasses of champagne, a main course and now she's suffering her face with ice cream."

Rosalind arched an eyebrow. Smooth Emma, what were you saying about this all being professional?

"It doesn't seem to be doing her figure any harm," Ash commented.

Rosie wrinkled her nose. "Dad."

"Some girls are like that. Don't matter what they eat."

"Metabolism, ain't it?"

"Unfortunately, most girls aren't that lucky," she told them.

"I don't know about that," Sean pondered, tilting his head. He stared at her for a moment longer than necessary before looking away, "You and Emma seem to be fine to me."

"I once knew a woman who ate like a horse," Albert looked a little discontented at the memory, "Looked like a horse too. Never strayed above seven stone."

"Am I the only one taking this seriously?" Emma demanded, frustration ebbing into her voice.

"Absolutely not, no, we're ready to pounce the moment things get nasty, aren't we lads?" Ash stated.

"I've never felt safer in my life," Rosalind stated dryly, and hide her smirk behind her wine glass.

Ash chuffed and shot her a smile. Albert smiled fondly and patted her hand.

The woman moved passed them, not even glancing in their direction. "You can take him home now."

They all froze, shocked and unnerved, and Rosalind was once again hit with the notion that she knew that woman.


"Blimey, she's a piece of work," Ash stated as his eyes scanned the computer screen, reading the newspaper article that they had pulled up on their new acquaintance, "She's like a one woman wrecking ball. Look at this lot - Jamie Elvins, Kenny Bond, Stan Dyson..."

"I worked with Stan 20 years ago," Albert stated with a small fond smile.

"DCI Britford joined the ECD with a brief to clamp down on the cons which are blighting the city of London," Ash read aloud.

"You'd think she'd be busy with the banks without having to worry about us," Mickey commented.

"Ah, she a headline grabber, and you'd make quite a scalp."

"Its more than that," Rosalind shook her head, "She thinks of this as a game. She thinks its fun, a challenge that she can surpass."

"You seem to know a lot about her," Emma glanced at her curiously.

"I've met her," she responded simply.

"What?" Mickey stood up straighter, "When?"

"Five years ago. She came to Giza," Rosalind answered.

"Giza?" Sean looked confused.

"My step-father's casino. It was having some...bad press, at the time. A lot of high rollers, a low rate of cheats being caught up the house, and an apparent tip off about the casino being a front for grifters and con men on an approved list to take what they wished," she recited, "She...interviewed us - Luis, my mum and me. She...asked too personal questions, like she already knew who I was. Luis put a stop to my interview when it got too much, but yeah, I remember her. She's not someone to be messed with Mickey. Just...let it blow over, let her get bored."

"Maybe we should keep our heads down until she loses interest," Ash agreed.

"But we already have a mark set up," Emma pointed out.

"No, Ash is right. She'll move on in a month or so," Albert nodded, and rocked forward a little on his feet, "I can put Sir Richardson on ice until then."

Rosalind's eyes followed Mickey's pace across the room. She recognised the expression, the one that showed he was thinking, and she was certain there was no hope for stepping down from this. Oh no, Mickey would never let someone get a one up on him. Just as Lucy Britford liked a challenge, he did too - she just hoped he was better than she was.

"Great, so Lucy Bitchface says 'boo' and we all jump," Emma sighed.

"Well, it might be better than getting banged up," Sean reminded her.

"Mick?" Ash huffed.

Mickey paused mid step. "I've never run away from anything in my entire life. I am not about to start now. She thinks she can outsmart us, let's prove her wrong. We go tomorrow, as planned."

Rosie silently prayed that Uncle Mickey knew what he was doing.


My plan right now is to rewrite sections of each episode - the first episode and the last episode of each series are the ones I will focus on with a lot of detail, so if there's any episodes you want Rosalind inserted into, then let me know and I will try and make it happen. Other than that, I'm going to try and build up her character, write my own cons (with is a challenge, I have found) and develop a relationship between Rosalind and Sean - as well as few cute Emma and Mickey scenes :)