Chapters 25/6 are very nearly reading to go and you'll be happy to know that its all fighting..well most of it. I had to kind of kick my own arse back into the habit of writing violence without being OTT but I think I just may have managed it. Anyway this is the chapter which Becki has been waiting for...let me know what you think.

"You sure you're alright out 'ere?" Pete asked, sliding onto the bench beside Allie and handing her a large latte. "There was a few people leaving so we can go back in if you want?"

"No," she told him, shaking her head. "I'm fine, it's actually pretty nice out," taking a long sip of her coffee, she smiled realising that Pete had already added the two sugars she took, turning to say thank you, she watched as he fidgeted about with something in his pocket and then held out a pack of ginger cookies from the bakery next door. She'd fallen in love with the place when she and Pete had first started dating and being just around the corner from his house, she would more often than not sneak out before he woke up and get breakfast from there.

"Thank you," she told him earnestly, not sure if he realised how much that tiny gesture actually meant to her.

"'S'alright," he shrugged, taking the lid off of his plain black coffee and inhaling the strong smell of unfiltered caffeine. His body immediately reacted, craving the strong liquid even more; the whiskey from last night was starting to kick in and as a result, the back of his head was pounding.

"You're hung over," she told him with a slight smile and he looked up completely confused. How the hell did she know that? Unless Matt had been shooting his mouth off again…the yank never had any bloody control when it came to Allie. "You always have black coffee when you're hung over," she explained.

"I only had one beer," he told her honestly. "Its just between that and the pain killers for my head, it kinda knocked the shit outta me," he pointed to the stitches at the back of his head from Mikey's attack last week and vaguely remembered that he was due to have them removed tomorrow.

"How's the hand?" Pete asked her, breaking the short silence and nodding to her hand which was resting on the bench.

"Oh, it's alright actually," she flexed her fingers as though proving it. "Thanks for looking after it last night,"

"Looks like you did a better job than I did," he raised is eyebrows looking at the new bandage.

"Oh no, that was Lara," she explained. "I got it wet in the shower."

Apparently satisfied with that answer, Pete began swirling his coffee around, watching as the dark liquid sloshed dangerously close to the edge of the paper cup.

"So," Allie sighed, staring out across the Thames, her eyes trained on the little boats navigating its murky depths. "On a scale of one to bitch, I messed up pretty badly, didn't I?"

"Allie," Pete shook his head. "We really don't have to get into this now, alright? Let's just-…."

"What?" she interrupted. "Sit in this oh so comfortable silence for the next hour until we either end up yelling at each other again or better yet burying our heads in the sand and heading back to yours for a round of angry make up sex?"

Against his will, Pete smirked, shaking his head as he took another sip of coffee, the woman knew him far too well.

"What I said last night," she shook her head, the wind blowing at her face and sending a shiver through her. "I shouldn't have said it, Christ, I didn't even mean it," turning to look at him, she wasn't surprised when he continued to stare straight ahead. "I was there when Steve said that to you and I know how much it hurt you…I was angry, Pete. Scared shitless and I know, ok, I know that doen't excuse it, but…"

Feeling her eyes start to sting, she turned back away from him and stared down at her rapidly cooling coffee.

"You have no idea how awful I felt last night, how much I hated myself," she told him.

"I may have had a vague idea," Pete snorted, stretching his legs out in front of him. "In less than 24 hours my girlfriend told me that she doesn't want to marry me and that I'm turning into my old man," he laughed bitterly and rubbed his chin. "It wasn't exactly a barrel of laughs for me either, Allie."

"I wish I could take it back," she pressed. "But I'd never seen you like that before and I just…panicked." Allie frowned, the feeling of sickness from last night washing over her again. "You hurt me so I hurt you, hardly the best example of maturity I know, but that's what happened."

"You hurt me because I hurt you?" Pete scoffed. "Nah, Allie that right there's the fucking dictionary definition of maturity,"

"Oh so this is how it's going to go, huh?" she raised an eyebrow. "I sit here, pour my heart out and try to say sorry and you just…rip the piss out of me?"


"Yeah well if you wanted someone who would roll over and take shit like a lap dog, maybe you should've shagged the yank when you had the chance." he shot at her bitterly.

Pete Dunham had lived under the misconception most of his life that because of his background, maybe even the way he spoke he wasn't an intelligent bloke. For the past 24 years, he'd argued with every person who'd ever assumed as such, fighting with every fibre in his body to prove them wrong.

But right now, in that second, he knew that every single fucking one of them had been right.

"Ok," Allie calmly placed her coffee on the floor and shook her head in disbelief. "We're officially done here," standing up, something inside of her seemed to snap, her green eyes glowing dangerously as she stared at him. "I fucked up last night, I am more than aware of that, hence the reason I'm sat here now trying to make it up to you, but if you're idea of giving me a shot is to sit there like some smug child, responding to everything I saw with a golden nugget of oh-so-hilarious Dunham humour, then you can fuck right off, because I. Am. Done,"

Turning on her heel, Pete watched helplessly for a moment as she strode across the park, not bothering using the pavements, her heels catching in the clumps of overly dry grass which stuck up from the ground. Rubbing his face in frustration, he sighed heavily before chucking his own cup into the bin behind him and chasing after her.

"Allie!" he shouted, cursing under his breath when she continued walking. "Would you just wait for fuck sake?"

"Why?" she screamed, turning around at him. "So you can throw something else back in my face? I get that you're pissed off at me, but the Matt thing?" she shook her head. "I'd say that it's over, but we both know it never even fucking began! He had a crush on me for all of…what, a week? And you're still hung up on it to the point where you think throwing it in my face when I'm trying to apologise to you is going to give you the higher moral ground or something?" she snorted, shaking her head at him. "We'll try this again later, maybe in the mean time you could try growing up."

"Allie!" Pete shouted again as she carried on walking.

"What?" she screamed, looking at him exasperatedly.

"You just stepped in dog shit."

Staring at him for a moment as though he was crazy, Allie glanced down and there it was stuck to her £350 a pair Louboutin shoes: the biggest chunk of dog crap she could ever remember seeing.

"Great," she cried, clapping her hands down to her sides. "Just…perfect!"

Bending down to examine the shoes, she looked up, narrowing her eyes when she heard the distinct sound of Pete Dunham laughing.

"You think this is funny?" she hissed.

"I think its fucking hilarious," he told her, scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah, well that just confirms my suspicions that you're a prick," she told him with a shrug. At that, he laughed even harder; the girl had a mouth and a half on her, that much he was certain of. Raising an eyebrow as she looked around her carefully for a moment before sitting down on the grass and kicking off her heels, Pete jammed his hands into his pockets before flopping down beside her, smirking slightly when she pretended not to care.

"You weren't supposed to see it," Pete told her after a long moment, picking at a clump of dry grass and tossing it.

"See what?" Allie responded quietly, still focused on her shoes.

"The fight," Pete watched as she instantly stilled what she was doing and sat up straight again. "I wanted you to stay inside,"

"Yeah, well I didn't did I?" she snapped, tired of being spoken to like a disobedient pet. "Jesus, Pete am I supposed to be thankful for that or something?"

"No," he shook his head, his tone even, "You're just supposed to know when to back off, I mean, if you don't even trust me then…"

"Trust you?" Allie stressed. "Jesus, Pete I trust you more than anyone else in the world, I love you. You're a good man, I wouldn't be with you if you weren't and…" her throat started to tighten. "I know how close I came to throwing it all away last night and the fact that I hurt you is making me feel like I can't breathe…" she closed her eyes and felt the tears clinging to her lashes. "Christ, I can't even string together a decent apology can I?"

"I'm sorry," he told her gently. "For what I said back there," he shrugged bashfully. "Its bullshit, I know that."

"So why…"

"Because you were right," he sighed. "I'm pissed off at you and I wasn't thinking." he cast a glance at the various kids running about on the grass. "I always wanted you to be separate from the GSE. I hated the idea of you thinking that was all I was about."

"I don't," she promised him. "Pete…"

"Do you want to marry me?" he asked her, his eyes so open she felt her heart skip a beat. He wasn't just asking her for effect, this was him really asking her…giving her the chance to walk away.

"Why are you asking me this?" she whispered, shaking her head. How the hell could he not know by now?

"Because before I used to look at you and I knew exactly what was going on in your head," he told her. "I could see it in your eyes when you looked at me that I was what you wanted…"

"And now?" Allie pressed. "What you…you think that's not there anymore?"

"I don't know, Allie," he shrugged. "I honestly have no idea what you want right now,"

"I want you," she told him simply. A tear ran down her cheek and she didn't bother wiping it away. "I want to go back to how things were, I want you to know that if I could I would take back every stupid fucking thing I said you last night, I want you to look at me and know that I'm yours," she bit her lip so hard that the taste of copper filled her mouth, making her wince. "Pete, look at me, please,"

Pete met her eyes and felt his chest tighten; he'd never seen Allie look like that, so uncertain, so desperate.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I know its shit but I don't know what else to say,"

He stared at her for a long moment, frowning slightly when he noticed the slight redness of her left cheek which she had obviously tried to hide with make up.

Reaching out, he gently ran his finger down her face, her green eyes immediately shooting up to look at him, obviously shocked that he was touching her.

"What happened 'ere then?" he asked her softly.

"Huh?" she shook herself out of the little trance she was in, but the feel of his fingers on her skin… "Oh that," she rolled her eyes. "It's nothing,"

Pete gave her a knowing look and she sighed, shrugging lightly.

"Lara might have slapped me," she laughed when his eyebrows shot up.

"She did what?" he demanded angrily.

"It was nothing I didn't deserve," she told him. "Or need for that matter."

"Only one of the lads has ever hit me," Pete told her out of the blue. Allie wasn't entirely sure where this was going, but if it was a step towards forgiving her, she would happily let him ramble on all day.

"Bovver?" she asked quietly.

"Nah," he shook his head. "Dave, actually; and it wasn't just a slap either," he laughed lightly. "He kicked the absolute shit outta me,"

"What?" Allie gasped, having never been told this. "When?"

"Years back," Pete shook his head. "Dave was a very different bloke when I first met him," he snored. "That's a fucking understatement and a half actually; he was fucked in the head."

Allie's eyes widened; out of all of them, even Pete sometimes, Dave had always seemed the most grounded. She couldn't imagine him being anything but that.

"See, one night I reckon it was our first, maybe second year of Uni, we were at this party and I found a shit load of pills in his jacket. E's most of 'em, he'd been taking 'em for weeks apparently but none of us had noticed anything different." Allie blinked, completely horrified. "So I grabbed him by the neck, and I mean really fucking grabbed him, and I dragged him outside. He started shouting at me, calling me every name under the bloody sun, some of the shit he was coming out with made Swill sound like a priest."

He chuckled and felt Allie giggled slightly beside him, taking a deep breath as he continued.

"I asked him what the fuck he was doing and he didn't answer, he just kicked the absolute shit outta me," he shook his head. "Put me in hospital for two nights all because he couldn't deal with it. He told me later that his family was completely fucked up, his little sister had gone AWOL, his parents were splitting up and he just…lost it for a while. Not that I blamed him, it made my lot sound like the fuckin' Brady Bunch," turning to face Allie, he saw the sympathy in her eyes and smiled faintly. "The night I got out of hospital, he came round to my dorm room with a case of beer and a curry and we just sat outside the whole night, he told me everything that had gone on, how scared he was of what was happening to him. I sat there and I watched him cry for hours, trying to suss out what the fuck had gone wrong in his life. He didn't need to say sorry because I knew why he'd done what he did," he snorted. "After that night, he was the closest mate I had aside from Bov. He stepped in where Steve should have been the whole time he was running the firm, he had my back the whole way through Uni, still does now."

"That's horrible," Allie mumbled, still unable to believe it.

"Yeah," Pete nodded. "It was, but I knew then that that wasn't about me. He would have beaten the hell out of whoever he'd come across first that night, good thing it was me actually, anyone else would have landed the poor bastard in the nick." He shook his head. "But my point is that fear makes everyone behave like a twat,"

"You're calling me a twat?" Allie raised an eyebrow.

"You're really gonna sit there and tell me you weren't?" Pete asked her back, his tone only slightly teasing.

"Fair point," she nodded, blushing.

"You got scared because I was never straight with you," he reasoned. "And you meant what you said,"

"No, I didn't!" she protested.

"Yeah, you did," Pete shook his head. "I'm not holding it against you, alright? And the reason I know you meant it is because when you said earlier that you said it to hurt me," he snorted. "Bollocks you did. You don't have it in you to hurt me, not on purpose anyway. Just like I'd never, ever go out of my way to hurt you,"

"So," she rubbed her hands on her jeans, the sun breaking through the clouds finally and hitting her back. "Am I forgiven?"

"You're crying and covered in dog shit," Pete laughed. "I'd say you've more than paid your dues, yeah," He grinned and shook his head. "Come 'ere."

Pulling her into a tight hug, he kissed the side of her head and lay his cheek against the top of her head as she snuggled into his chest contededly for a moment.

"Ok then," Allie pulled away from his embrace and stood up, brushing the stray grass and dirt off of her jeans and holding her hand out to him. "Come on," she wiggled her fingers at him. "If I'm going to apologise, I'm going to do it right,"

"How's that?" Pete raised an eyebrow, smirking up at her.

"I'll do the bloke thing and buy you a beer," she offered, then winced, eyeing the stitches at the back of his head. "Or maybe just another coffee,"

"I'm not buying you another pair of them," Pete pointed to her shoes. "How much were they?"

"£350," she winced at his reaction.

"Fuck me!" Pete laughed, taking her hand and pulling himself up. "Do you have any idea how many beers that equates to?"

"Enough to make ugly girls look fit?" she queried.

"Precisely," Pete grinned. "And given the female standards in the Abbey," Pete grimaced. "£350 would go a long fucking way,"

"Such a gentleman," Allie rolled her eyes.

"Yeah?" he raised an eyebrow at her, catching her confused expression as he crouched down in front of her. "I'm hung over, didn't get to finish my coffee, got yelled at by my girlfriend who smells of dog shit and yet I'm still willing to give you a piggy back." He pointed at her. "Now you stand there and tell me again that I'm not a gentleman,"

"You really forgive me then?" she asked, her hands cupping his face gently.

"Do you love me?" he asked her quietly, kissing her fingers as they grazed his lips.

"Yes," she told him instantly, not even having to think about it. "I love you,"

"Then yeah," he grinned. "I forgive you," standing up, he kissed her softly at first then harder, pulling her body as close as he could get it. Something clicked in his brain and reminded him that they were still very much in public, so he pulled away, turning so his back was to her.

"Come on," he reached out for her. "Jump on before I change my mind,"

Grinning, Allie jumped up a little, wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms going around his neck as carried her through the park, knowing that as he tightened his hands protectively on her legs and he informed her of the disgrace he and Benjamin had made of themselves in the staffroom earlier in the morning that everything was going to be alright.

Pete was right about them, they weren't perfect but as far as Allie was concerned, perfect had nothing on Pete Dunham.

Pete blinked at what seemed like the sudden darkness in the room, but glancing at the clock he realised that it was already gone 9.30pm, which meant he and Allie had been asleep for at least four hours. Turning to look at the sleeping blonde next to him, he realised it wouldn't exactly do them any harm given how hard the past two days had been. The trip to his apartment had been something of a blur, especially once they got to the front door, away from public scrutiny and all bets were off; he wasn't sure who had initiated it but they'd ended up stumbling through the hallway, their lips locked, not particularly caring if Matt was in or not when they fell into the flat. Smiling as she mumbled something in her sleep and snuggled deeper into her pillow, Pete carefully reached out to brush some hair off of her face, tucking it behind her ear and running his hand lightly down her side, the skin still warm and covered in a faint sheen of sweat. Using his other arm which was trapped under her body to pull her closer, Pete sighed contentedly into her hair as her lips sleepily pressed against his chest.

"Are you awake?" she mumbled.

"No," he grinned, looking down at the top of her head. "You?"

"Uh-uh," she shook her head, laughing lightly before tilting her head up to look at him.

His fingers traced her features before burying themselves in her soft hair as she kissed her way up his chest to his mouth, their lips only millimetres apart when suddenly, Pete's phone rang.

"Fuck," he muttered angrily, lifting his head off of the pillow slightly to cast a look at the screen. "Bovver," he grumbled. "What the fuck does he want?"

"D'you want to get it?" Allie asked, pulling away slightly and reaching for the phone to hand it to him.

"No," he shook his head, grabbing her hand and instead rolling them over so that she was trapped underneath him. "Not right now," he grinned down at her. "I'm a little busy at the moment,"

Crushing his lips onto hers, he moaned as she arched her body up into his, her hands running up and down his back as he whispered 'I love you' against her mouth.

Fuck it, whatever Bov wanted could wait, it was probably just to get him down the Abbey anyway; the boys didn't know that things were fine between him and Allie now so it was more than likely them trying to get him into a 'forget-your-bird' themed drinking session. Frowning as the phone rang again, he reached out and blindly switched it off before flinging the offending object across the room and falling back down into Allie's arms.

"Shit," Bovver hissed, staring down at his phone as the all to familiar monotone voice informed him that the phone he was trying to reach was switched off. "Come on, Pete," he muttered, dialling the number of his land line and waiting patiently. By the 16th ring, he was just about ready to punch something. Hanging up, he shoved the phone back into his pocket and carefully edged around the corner, narrowing his eyes and trying to make out what was happening. His gaze landed on the tall, intimidating looking police officer who was on his phone, half leaning out of his car as he stared at the white tent pitched at the side of the road.

"The body was found on Millennium Harbour at approximately 5.47 this afternoon." He noted simply. "We've already got forensics down here, believe me serge, it wasn't pretty." He nodded and picked up a sheet of paper, his eyes narrowed as he scrutinized whatever was on it. "No, we've got ID, he was carrying it; driving license, national insurance number, everything we needed just…sat in his wallet. Yeah, let me get it,"

Standing up, the officer walked over to a small table at which another officer was stood examining something. Bovver held his breath as the officer picked up a plastic wallet and held it up in the fading sunlight, his eyes fighting to see past the blood and dirt smeared on the small card.

"Michael James Mullins," he announced, sending Bovver's stomach plummeting to his feet. "22nd December, 1980. Nah, he's local serg, says here he's a Millwall boy, born and bred." Nodding, he dropped the wallet back onto the table. "We've got it cordoned off, there's no way we can let traffic through, not until we clean this up. And judging by the looks of the poor sod, I don't know how long that's going to take, I'm just leaving it with forensics, they're the experts on murder, anyway."

Murder.

The word echoed through Bovver's brain and turned his blood to ice; his fingers started to sting and glancing down, he noticed that he'd been gripping the surface of the brick wall so hard that he'd grazed the pads of his fingers. Turning his gaze to the white tent set up on the corner of the road, he gulped knowing that behind it, lay the remains of Mikey Mullins. Blokes like him didn't just disappear and they sure as shit didn't get murdered…not randomly anyway.

Recalling what Sean had said at the fight last night, about how Mikey had been spending time with Tommy Hatcher, Bovver felt sick. You didn't need to be Einstein to work that one out. Mikey starts talking to Tommy, a few weeks later Mikey attacks Pete but doesn't finish the job, a few days later Mikey's found in a ditch with half his face missing.

Shuddering and trying to ignore the bile climbing up his throat, Bovver got back onto this motorbike and took off, not even bothering with his helmet as he rode as fast as he could towards Pete's flat. He didn't know how they were supposed to deal with this or even if they could. The only thing Bovver knew in that one moment was that as things stood at the moment, with Mikey dead and Tommy still gunning for them, the GSE were completely and utterly fucked.

To be continued very, very soon...