To the reviewer who left this message: "FFS, just kill Brendan and end this nonsense." You are going to be very disappointed (and if you want to elaborate on the review, I'd very much appreciate it).

To the rest of you, thank you very much for your support with this fic and for seeing it through to the end. I know it's been a long, slow process.

I really hope you'll enjoy this last offering.

Ste stood on the balcony and looked out across La Urbanització. La Zonas were clearly visible from the balcony and Ste was struck by how obviously different they were. There was smoke rising from La Zona Blava, just like there had been on The Estate in Ireland. There were drug induced fumes rising from La Zona … erm, Greena? Okay, Ste's Catalonian wasn't exactly improving, but the majority of The Zoners had emigrated to Spain from The Irish Estate and could speak perfect English … well, they could speak English.

'Hola Ste,' a voice called from below the balcony. He recognised the man as Jaume, one of Brendan's favourite Red Zoners. Ste wondered if the man's outstanding abs were part of the attraction. It certainly didn't do him any harm. Right now, Jaume was wearing denim shorts with no shirt or shoes, which might have been why Ste's words stuck in his throat a little as he attempted a little Catalan:

'Hola.'

'Is Brady here?'

'Yeah, I'll send him down,' Ste shouted back. 'You can wait in the living room.'

'Gàcies,' Jaume replied dipping his head and disappearing from view beneath the balcony. Ste's time for sunbathing was apparently over.

'Get up!' Ste called strolling back in to his and Brendan's bedroom. He grabbed a scatter cushion which Cheryl and "kindly" donated to them at their housewarming and threw it at his head. The housewarming had been at a different house because as much as she knew her brother wasn't exactly the whitest angel in the world, she didn't quite want to see him as Lucifer presiding over and organising the continents lesser criminals.

He didn't even look capable right now. The late nights with Ste seemed to be taking their toll on the older man, or maybe it was all the sun, which he seemed to be mostly allergic to.

'I'm having a lie in.'

'Yes, but La Urbanització is awake.'

'Your pronunciation is atrocious.'

'Well, Jaume is downstairs waiting for you, maybe his pronunciation will probably meet your standards,' Ste suggested slumping back onto the bed.

It was the comfiest bed he'd ever slept on. He and Brendan had picked it out together, and then Brendan had sent a group of Blue Zoners to go in and steal it a few days later. Ste found it was wonderful being (practically) married to the (sort of) king.

Brendan jumped out of bed muttering something about a "bloody meeting" he'd forgotten about and then started asking random questions, which either didn't need an answer or Ste didn't know it: "Where's my other sock?" "Have you seen my good shirt?" "You better not have used up all my hair gel!"

Ste just grinned cheekily in response, until he thought Brendan was going to roll his eyes right out of his head.

'Hey, you know how Jaume's your right hand man … ish?'

'Mmm?' Brendan frowned halting his manic race around the room for a few seconds to look at Ste with his eyebrows raised.

'Is it because of his abs?'

'He's the most experienced of our new Catalonian recruits.'

'Raul is most experienced, surely,' Ste smirked.

'He's ancient.' Brendan shook his head fondly. Raul liked to sit just outside Brendan's house under the shade of the balcony. When La Urbanització was created, it was like he'd found his own personal heaven. He – so he said – had been a great and feared criminal in the past, or that's what the Spanish speaking boys had translated for Ste. Ste doubted Raul's credentials, but he liked him as a garden decoration. He was like a living, breathing gnome at the front of their house all wispy grey hair and leathery skin.

'Jaume is the most connected of all the new Catalan boys.'

'Aaaand he's got great abs?' Ste suggested, flirtily.

'Look,' Brendan sighed, sitting on the bed to pull his shoes on. 'I don't even notice the other guys on La Urbanització. I only have eyes for you.' He crawled across the mattress and pressed a kiss to Ste's cheek, as the younger man burst with laughter:

'Okay, whatever.'

'What?' The older man sat back on his heels.

'I'm not Macca, Bren,' Ste pointed out. 'I'm not going to freak out if you glance at another man.'

Brendan's eyes narrowed a little. He seemed to be trying to see through Ste's eyes, right into his thoughts.

'Fine,' he admitted. 'It's the abs.'

'They are great abs,' Ste chuckled as Brendan pressed their lips together, which led to kissing too vigorous to not go anywhere. It was a miracle that Ste managed to pull back when he did, especially as Brendan's hand was starting to lead there. His gaze was so intense that Ste shivered a little, which was a bit pathetic when you think about it.

'No,' Ste panted breathlessly. 'You've got work.'

Brendan swore sharply under his breath in response, and grabbed his watch before flying out of the bedroom. His meeting must have been important.

Ste walked out to balcony so he could watch Jaume and Brendan walk to Brendan's brand new Ferrari; black so that he didn't stand out. "It's a good car for Spain", Brendan had insisted, when he'd revealed the needlessly outlandish purchase. He was an idiot for thinking Ste didn't know the realreason he'd bought it. It was because Riley had bought Mitzeee that bloody Porsche 911 and now the two idiots were in competition.

Speaking of which:

'Bren!'

The Irishman looked up to the balcony, it was like his hearing was tuned specifically for Ste's voice.

'What is it Rapunzel?'

'Don't forget we're driving out to the boat tonight.'

'How could I possibly forget?' Brendan scorned, good-naturedly. 'You've reminded me every five minutes.'

'Shu'up,' he frowned. 'I'm excited.'

'Really? Who exactly are you excited about seeing?'

Ste wanted to say Cheryl, or Mitzeee, or Riley, he'd even like to be able to say Callum, but he was quite nervous about Brendan and Callum meeting for the first time, besides Brendan would see through him like a window if he lied. So he told the truth:

'The jet ski.'

'That's what I thought,' he chuckled, strolling around to the wrong side of the car, which was where most foreign people put their steering wheels (apparently). 'See you later. Are you going to be okay packing?'

'You've packed most of it,' Ste protested. 'He doesn't trust me,' he called to Jaume, who just laughed and said that the boys from La Zona Blaua could do with his help planning their pick pocketing trip to the city that night.

'There you are,' Brendan said. 'Make yourself useful.'

'You didn't complain about my usefulness last night.' Then he laughed and shouted: 'Adéu' before Jaume had chance to escape into the car.

Ste could just overhear Jaume say:

'His accent has really improved.'

And Brendan reply:

'Don't tell him, it'll go to his head.'

::

Ste packed his clothes as quickly as he could. It was actually a real challenge these days to pick out a selection of clothes. Trips to Barcelona were fortnightly, to give them both some private time away from La Urbanització, and that meant shopping trips, drinking a variety of cocktails and long lazy mornings in fancy, disgustingly expensive hotels. His wardrobe was bulging.

He eventually managed to sit on the case until it closed and jumped into his and Brendan's Audi to go to La Zona Blaua. There was some good natured jibes about the state of his car, but most of the houses around The Estate had managed to purchase a car of some kind, they just weren't as nice as the car Ste could afford.

Ste liked hanging around with The Zona Blaua Boys. It was a nice change from being around Brendan's important, criminal master minds, but his mind wasn't really in it today. He was excited about seeing his extended family again. Even Riley had managed to get a weekend off, whilst everyone went on international duty. There was outrage that he'd been left out of the England team, apparently. Ste and Brendan knew very little about the gossip surrounding the English Premier League, but Mitzeee would fill them both in when she skyped, and Cheryl would usually mention it when they spoke to her. Since Brendan's court case, Cheryl had adopted all his friends as part of her wild extended family. She liked to know exactly what was going on with them at all times.

'What are you grinning for, innit?' Spike asked, shoving Ste in the shoulder.

'That's the face of someone in a relationship, eh?' Joel smirked.

'Weird, innit,' Mickey pulled a face. 'You an' Brady.'

'Shu'up,' he laughed, but his mind was elsewhere. His mind was already on their ridiculously expensive boat and the yearly family gathering.

'Oh Ste, is you and Brendan going away?' Spike asked.

'Tonight, yeah,' he nodded.

'Right, well,' Kevin smiled a little. 'We bought you a birthday present, we were going to give it to you on your actual birthday but, as we're not going to see you.' Kevin chucked a box at Ste. It landed in his lap and was wrapped in foil.

'What is it?' he asked, shaking it a little.

'Let's just say, it'll come in very handy while you're away,' Joel winked annoyingly.

'Open it, innit,' Mickey smirked, elbowing Ste in the side, a little bit harder than was necessary.

'We thought it'd compliment Brady's gift for ya,' Spike snorted. Ste frowned, but his confusion didn't last long as he tore off the foil to reveal a shiny box of condoms. He pulled a face that was supposed to be a frown, but his unintentional smile was ruining it.

'You're welcome,' Kevin chuckled.

'We stole 'em from Bart's supply,' Joel said in a low voice. 'He's been moved over to Green Zone, we've got Lockie moving in – you know, he used to be in House 14 with the skate boarders. The New Zealander.'

'I always thought he was an Aussie,' Ste muttered, because a "thank-you" for such a ridiculous gift seemed like too much.

'Don't tell him that,' Kevin joked.

'Is Bart going to miss these and accuse me of stealing?' Ste asked suspiciously. He wouldn't put it past the boys to stitch him up like that for a poorly-thought out "joke".

'Miss 'em,' Spike laughed. 'Mate, he wishes like.'

'Spanish hookers got higher standards, innit,' Mickey agreed.

'Well, I'll put them to good use,' Ste smirked, holding up the box of condoms. It wasn't long before he had to go. Brendan would be back and then they had to get on the boat and wait for all their guests to arrive. He was so excited, he thought he might explode.

'Happy Birthday gay-boy,' sang a voice from the boat's deck. Brendan's teeth hurt at the voice, his arm hairs stood on end. He'd met the owner of the voice three times and every time he'd wanted to throttle him, or drown him, or just shoot him in the head. But Steven insisted Callum was important to him, and Steven had accepted so much of what was important to Brendan.

Brendan walked up the couple of steps to join Steven on deck. 'Gay-man,' Callum bowed in his direction. The only upside was that he'd brought his little girl with him and she was a cute kid; blonde and tough. 'Make myself at home, shall I?' he said, glancing at the little girl, whose hand he was holding. 'Come on sweetheart, let's see what Uncle Ste's got in the fridge for you.'

'Down the stairs, kitchens on the left. Help yourself to anything,' Brendan said, he'd learned his supreme hosting skills from his sister. That didn't stop him muttering in Steven's ear: 'Why is he here?'

'Because he's my friend, and it's my birthday.'

'It's your birthday tomorrow.'

'Close enough.'

'You have terrible taste in friends,' Brendan insisted.

'I've got a worse taste in boyfriends,' the boy challenged, raising his eyebrow daringly.

'Really?'

'Uh-huh,' he chuckled, and Brendan caught those sweet lips with his own. They were on the boat deck, the Spanish sun was warm and was bathing everything in gold, even Brendan's pale skin. But better than that, they owned the best boat in the harbour. It was more expensive than the others, it was bigger and screamed money. They liked to show off how much they were worth. They liked to watch the jealousy in the other people's faces.

'Erm, Ste,' Callum's voice cut through the kiss, 'that bottle on your table, wasn't expensive, was it? Lexi's made a bit of a grab for it and poured most of it on the floor.

'That better not be my …. EXPENSIVE WHISKEY!' Brendan bellowed down the stairs. He was going to have to seriously rethink his opinion of the kid.

'Mitzeee will be here soon,' Steven called after him as he marched towards the stairs. 'She'll probably bring you another bottle.'

As true as that was, Brendan wanted to see the damage for himself.

'Helloooooo,' Mitzeee called, tottering up the stairs.

'Oh, speak of the devil,' Ste smiled, walking over to hold her hand as she wobbled down the steps. Her heals looked more like circus stilts.

'You talking about me, or him,' she jerked her thumb towards Riley, who was attempting to balance their son in one hand and a suitcase in the other. ''Cause he's playing for Man United now and they're called the devils. Isn't that right, Riley, Man United are called the Devils?

'Yes, babe,' he smiled, accepting Ste's offer of help with the little boy.

'I've been learning about football,' Mitzeee said.

'But I signed for Man City.'

'It's all the same really, isn't it?' she spoke to Phoenix, who seemed more than content in his pseudo-uncle's arms. Ste didn't know when his hatred for Lexi had turned into a love for children. Maybe when the fear of having one and being tied to Rae for eternity wasn't weighing on him. Maybe now that he felt his life wouldn't end by the presents of kids within it. 'All I know is that I have to travel back to bloody Manchester in a few days' time,' she muttered. 'Hiya babe,' she smiled, pressing sticky red lips to Ste's cheek, as though she'd only just spotted him. 'Where's Bren?'

'Getting a whiskey.'

'This early? Callum must be here.'

'And Lexi.'

'Ooo, did you hear that Phoenix? Your friend is here,' she said, taking her kid back.

'I'm not really sure how much he likes her, sweetheart,' Riley said.

'It'll be good for him to have some real friends. The kids at the playschool you send him to are dead snooty.'

'Yes, but Lexi mostly just tries to poke him in the eye.'

Ste wondered how their relationship possibly worked. They were so completely different, from different worlds and different ideas, but when their eyes met it was clear they were so very, very in love. And really, how similar were he and Brendan when you got down to it. Or maybe that was a bad example. Brendan appeared at the top of the stairs with a whiskey in one hand and huge glass of red in the other.

'Oh, thank god!' He called when he saw Mitzeee. 'I need someone to head down this track with me. Here.' He shoved the wine glass into her spare hand and dragged her up to the top deck so they could catch up and see how many times they could outdo each other in their successes. They'd be drunk soon and start singing Spice Girls songs from their university years and Ste would film it on his mobile. And that would see yet another one of his smart phone's take a swim in the sea.

Ste turned to see Riley still struggling with the case.

'Hi,' he laughed.

'Hi,' Riley smiled, giving him a pat on the shoulder. 'Happy birthday for tomorrow.'

'Can I give you a hand?' he gestured to the case.

'That'd be great. Thanks.' They moved the suitcase downstairs between them. Ste introduced Callum and Riley to each other again.

Callum was about as uncool as the last time they'd met, but he was an enormous Man City fan and turned into the blubbering mess of an obsessive fan girl. It was weird. Ste thought of Riley as that annoyance idiot who used to make them play football in the streets of The Estate. Now, he thought of Riley as Mitzeee's husband. He couldn't really imagine him as a famous football player.

He directed Riley to his room and turned on Callum who was still shouting:

'See you later, mate. I'll get you a beer ready.'

'You fancy him,' Ste accused.

'Shut up,' Callum snapped. 'That's your thing, you bloody queer.'

'Well stop flirting with him then.'

'I ain't flirting.'

'Oh Riley,' Ste put on a high pitched, girly voice. 'You were so great against Arsenal. Oh, Riley, talk me through your goal last week. Oh Riley, why aren't you in the England squad when you're soooooooo talented?'

'That's not how I sound.'

'That's exactly how you sound.'

'You're a cock.'

'You want my cock.'

Callum's face dropped into a scowl. 'That's not funny,' he said, but Ste could see the joke in his eyes. 'You know how heartbroken I was when you went back to Brendan.' Then came the overdramatic clutch of the chest and prom queen-fake tears. 'I loved you Ste. I ruined my body having Lexi.' Ste crossed his arms, his friend was an idiot. 'I gave you the best years of my life and you just toss me aside like a cheap whore.' Riley appeared in the doorway, arms folded smirk across his face. He would enjoy this. It probably reminded him of the stupid games Spike and Mickey used to play around The Blue Zone.

'You wanna watch joking about like that,' Riley chuckled. 'Brendan'll probably tear your head off if he thinks you're competition.'

'He wouldn't, would he?' Callum looked nervous suddenly.

'Should have heard some of the things he did to people on The Estate,' Riley nodded.

'But those were just…' The word "rumours" was drowned out as Callum started to shout: 'It was joke.' And: 'I'm a hot blooded male. I like boobs.'

Ste just held his head in his hands. They might have been like brothers, but it didn't make Callum any less of a douchebag. Riley was apparently enjoying the display.

'Where're the beers, Ste?'

'I'll get you one,' Callum gabbled quickly.

'Boobs, yeah right,' Ste muttered under his breath. 'Unless it's dressed in a Man City shirt.' Then he noticed Lexi crawling about on the carpeted floor. 'Hey, princess, would you like to go and see Phoenix. I think we should rescue him from Uncle Brendan and Mitzeee or they'll be getting him drunk.'

'Drunk,' she repeated easily.

'Open to the idea of drinking, are you?' Ste asked, and because he couldn't resist: 'Is that something mummy taught you?'

'Ste!' Callum groaned. 'Lexi understands you now. Don't talk like that about her mummy.'

'But her mummy's a….'

'Steven, I will hit you so hard you become a street rat again.'

'I still am a street rat,' Ste protested.

'Whatever, son,' Callum shook his head. 'How much were those shoes?'

Ste avoided the question. The answer of €150 probably wouldn't have helped his case.

'Where's Phoenix, eh Lexi?' he diverted. 'Where's Phoenix?'

He took his opportunity to leave them to it. Callum would have to get over Riley sooner or later, and he imagined they'd get on once Callum stopped trying to impress him.

Ste was halfway up to top deck when he heard:

'Hiya babe,' and turned to see Cheryl, who was heavily pregnant and glowing beautifully. 'Happy birthday for tomorrow. Oh, hello darling,' she smiled towards Lexi. 'Aren't you gorgeous?'

'Are we last here?' Nate asked.

'Please don't mention the route again,' Cheryl sighed.

'The taxi driver went the wrong way,' Nate explained to Ste. 'I've never seen anything like it. If you don't know the direction, you buy a satnav, don't you?'

'Sure,' Ste nodded. He wasn't really sure. He'd never had the money to own a car, so he'd never needed to bother with a satnav. 'Bren's up here with Mitz,' he explained. 'I'm just taking Lexi up to see Phoenix.'

They'd had some drinks that night. Brendan and Mitzeee had led the way with the entertainment, telling everyone on the boat what they want, what they really, really want. And apparently they really, really, really wanted a zig-a-zig-ah. Obviously.

Cheryl looked desperate to join in, but the baby she was carrying was draining her energy and she was happy enough watching over the kids as they slept peacefully on the enormous cushions that decorated the top deck.

Nate, Riley and Callum had been attempting to play cards until a gust of sea breeze took the two of clubs into the sea and ended all the card games, but Ste just found himself watching his family as they lived and breathed and laughed around him. He'd never thought, growing up with his fist-happy dad and his hateful mum, that he would ever be loved, that he could ever be surrounded by so much happiness. That he could feel so safe and have everything so perfect by the time he was 22.

'Everything, okay?' Brendan asked, wrapping himself around Ste. Ste revelled in how well he fitted in his arms. He loved the way he smelt, even when it was tainted with the scent of whisky.

'Everything's perfect,' he said, turning in his man's arms.

'Yeah?'

'Yeah.'

'Good,' he smiled, blue eyes bright and happy. 'Good,' he pressed a chaste kiss to Ste's lips. It tasted oddly sweet, he must have been tucking into Lexi's sweets.

'Hey, look,' Brendan held Ste's watch up so that Steven could see the time: "12.01." 'Happy Birthday, Steven.'

And the stars were out above them, and the air was warm and the gentle waves lapped against the boat and the whole setting was perfect.

'This is the best birthday ever.'

'Calm down, we're only a minute in to it. Callum will find a way to ruin it later.'

'Nah, we're having Jet Ski races tomorrow, it'll be dead good.'

'Okay.'

'And you can inflate the slide from the top deck.'

'Okay.'

'And you can cook.'

'Don't push it Steven.'

Ste laughed, and lolled his head against Brendan's shoulder. He was so happy that he never wanted to leave this moment. Never wanted to leave these arms, but there was so much ahead of them. So much to look forward to, so many more trips to the boat, so many more milestones to hit together. So many more stories to create, so many more jobs, so many more police chases and so much more life to lead.

This was only the beginning, and what a beautiful beginning it was.

'So everyone's accounted for?' the sergeant asked.

'Yes,' the young Garda man groaned. This was an open and shut case. He just couldn't understand why they were still going over all of this. It seemed a bit dramatic, even Scotland Yard had got involved as though the Metropolitan Police Force were going to be any use in Dublin.

'All nine,' the sergeant insisted.

'Nine?' he frowned, putting down his coffee.

'Yes, nine.'

'We found eight.'

'Forensics said there were nine people in the van. Which seat was empty? They might be able to create a profile.' The sergeant lifted his phone and dialled a number. He was clearly expecting a quick answer. 'Kerry,' he snapped. 'Stop staring into space, which seat was empty.'

But Kerri didn't want to answer, because now that he thought about it wasn't the empty seat was the one driving the car?

How had he missed that? Maybe it was because he'd been vomiting, it had been his first experience of bodies. The smell had been sickening and the mental had been twisted like a monster and the smoke had been blinding. But that one Garda, the English one, he'd comforted him. Told him to make a few calls to the transport police. Where had he gone? He'd disappeared in the chaos, but he'd left his name and Kerri wouldn't soon forget the name of the cop who'd helped him.

'Sorry, sir,' he shook his head. 'I was a bit shaken up. You best bet would be to ask the officer at the scene.'

'And what was his name?'

'Officer Walker.'

You might notice that I'm quite terrible and endings. :S It's something I'm working on.

Thanks again for reading all the way through. Any comments, reviews and constructive criticism are what I live for (not quite literally, but I'd really appreciate it).

Sisi…xx