Aaaand we're back! Apologies for not continuing the OCD posting yesterday, I had a bitch of a migraine so spent the entire day in bed feeling terribly sorry for myself. But one good nights sleep and about 54684321 grams of nurofen later, here I am! :) Thank you as always for your wonderfully kind words, I'm so glad people are still reading my stuff. Its pure self indulgence at this point but I apologise for nothing!

Annabelle, you star, you spotted the Intervals references. Richard's nickname of Buddy Holly was also in there. I shall think of a prize shortly ;)

Please enjoy this chapter, we have ourselves a seven year time jump midway through so yep, grown up Pete and Allie interaction. To those who PM'd, yes Matt will feature in this story as will Benjamin (I can't believe how many people love him! haha).

Any questions or comments, my PM box is always open. :) Also be warned, this story may have been sweetness and light so far but that's all about to change.

Enjoy xx

"It's in adjournment at the moment," Poppy sighed, pouring herself another cup of tea, her long fingers delicately wrapping themselves around the string of her peppermint teabag and pulling it from the water. "But once we're back on track which please God will be within the next two weeks, it's really going to hit the fan,"

Moira nodded, her own hands clasping her cup of tea which she'd barely taken a sip from; Poppy had been filling her in on the case she and her husband were working on and all she could think about was the fact she would never have enough time to clean a house this big and get back over to Newham before…

"So what do you think?" Poppy smiled at her, all white teeth and perfect lipstick.

"I think you're mental," Moira laughed. "And I thought changing IV lines was a pain, I've got no idea what you just said."

Poppy laughed, warming to the other woman more and more as they spoke.

"Well, you'll catch on, trust me," she rolled her eyes. "Law gets into your brain whether you want it to or not,"

"I'll take that as a challenge," Moira chuckled, glancing around and feeling her heart wrench knowing that the marble counter tops in the kitchen probably cost more than her entire house. "But if you wouldn't mind, I 'ave a few questions,"

"God no," Poppy shook her head. "Of course, I'd be amazed if you didn't. Mad woman who by definition was a stranger from whom your son took candy offers you a job…" she narrowed her eyes and cocked her head. "You're not police, are you?"

Moira threw her head back and let out a laugh which seemed to echo in the gigantic room; she couldn't think of any time in recent memory when she had been so relaxed. So happy to just sit here in her £12.00 blouse with her chipped nail varnish and feel accepted. Her thoughts momentarily strayed back to Michael whom she had told she was going to Pete's school for an open evening. If he knew she was here…

"Well, um…" she took a sip of tea and swallowed hard, pushing thoughts of her husband and his ever failing sobriety from her mind. "Would I have to bring my own stuff? I don't know if your last cleaner brought things and left them here…"

Poppy frowned at her and she panicked, wondering if she was pushing it too far.

"I 'ave got my own bits obviously, brooms and mops. But well, my house ain't quite as big as yours and…"

"Moira," Poppy shook her head, leaning forward and meeting her eyes. "You've lost me,"

"Cleaning products," the woman pressed, a strand of her mousy brown hair coming loose and falling into her eyes which were starting to dart about nervously. "I mean, if these counters need special stuff, I don't know if I can afford…"

"You think I brought you here to clean my house?" Poppy felt her jaw sagging, her eyes widening in horror. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!"

"It's alright, love," Moira laughed. "Don't worry about it, I…'ang on, what?"

"Moira, I don't want to hire you as a cleaner," the blonde laughed. "Not that there's anything wrong with cleaning houses but…no, God no. I wanted to see if you'd be interested in some clerk work. Secretarial."

Moira's eyes widened and she froze, unsure of whether this was a sick joke.

"I can't promise it'll be amazingly stimulating, it'll be a lot of faxing and typing and helping me with phone records but…I can start you on £20.00 an hour, more if you need and of course, transport is on me. If you're coming the whole way over…"

She trailed off, noticing the tears in Moira Dunham's eyes and felt instantly guilty. Oh shit. She'd been so careful not to come across as high handed or do anything to make Moira feel like this was a handout and somehow, she'd buggered it up.

"I'm so sorry," she reached out, clasping Moira's hand. "I didn't mean to offend you, I just…"

"I went for an interview in a pub last week and got told I didn't 'ave enough experience to clean their toilets," Moira shook her head. "And you want me to help you with a case? A legal case?"

"I would love for you to help me," Poppy nodded. "But that choice is all yours, I just need you to remember that you're working with me not for me and that this isn't a hand out."

Catching her look of disbelief, Poppy shuffled her chair closer to Moira's and kept her hands locked in her own.

"I'm not religious," she shook her head. "I've seen children being buried in shoeboxes in Africa, I've stood in court rooms with men –and women- who have done the most unspeakable things. You don't see and hear things like that and come out of it praising a man who thought socks with sandals was a good move."

Moira laughed though it sounded on the verge of becoming a sob.

"But call me crazy, I believe in fate. I believe I was meant to be the only one at a campaign march who knew first aid and had to rescue the pillock who became my husband because he gave himself concussion falling off the roof of a car. I believe I was meant to have a daughter whose taste in cake forces me to make a monthly trip across bloody London because it brought me to your son and it brought you to me."

She smiled, squeezing Moira's fingers for a moment before letting them go and reaching for the biscuit tin.

"I also believe there will come a day when my metabolism turns to shit and I will pay with my waist line for every single bite of this macaroon but balls to it." She took a bite and grinned. "Say yes, work with me on this project. Give it a try, that's all I ask,"

Moira took a deep breath and laughed to herself, unable to believe something like this was happening to someone like her. She thought of Pete and Steve, of all the things they could have if she took this opportunity which paid more than her nursing wage.

"Go on then," she smiled through her tears.

"Was that to the macaroon offer or the job?" Poppy raised an eyebrow, her mouth full. "Because if it's the macaroons you want, we may have to negotiate,"

Both women laughed before Poppy stood and pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back as she felt a tear on her shoulder. There wasn't much good left in the world, her mother had once told her, so do what you can to make some.

Seeing Moira Dunham wipe her eyes and sit down, pulling a notebook from her purse on which she'd written a list of cleaning suppliers, Poppy watched with a grin as she scribbled it out and asked her what ad infinitum meant. Yes, it was possible to create good in the world. You just had to hope it stayed that way.

Allie Harding had learned in the last fifteen minutes that Geri Halliwell's favourite dinner was macaroni cheese, that she and Emma Bunton had the same shoe size and that one or more of the Gallagher brothers had definitely shagged Kate Moss. Fifteen minutes in the same room as a boy who was Nick Carter level cute and she hadn't said a word.

But then neither had he. He'd stuttered something in her direction when she'd handed him the bowl of sticky toffee pudding but that was it. Since Harry had left for rugby…not a word.

"Bollocks,"

Strike that from the record. The beast speaks.

Her head snapped up and she saw from the screen that Pete Dunham was faring as well in Golden Eye as she did in ballet class. Ballsing it up royally was the phrase Lara often opted for.

Behind him, Pete could hear a faint giggle and didn't know whether to smile or be pissed off. She was laughing at him. Little-Miss-Give-Me-The-Googly-Eyes-And-Then-Sit-In-Silence was laughing at him. He was so caught up in pressing the buttons on the controller hard enough to gain an indent in his thumbs that he didn't notice her until she was right there next to him.

"What are you doing?" he asked her, feeling guilty at the sharpness of his voice. But she'd thrown him off dammit. He was in the zone and then there she was with her purple bra straps and her weird floral body spray.

"Saving your arse by the looks of it," Allie shrugged, reaching for Harry's abandoned controller and stepping in, blinking when she saw Natalia on the screen. "I can't be the only one who thinks its creepy that my brother insists on playing as a girl,"

Pete laughed, watching as she cocked her head and stuck her tongue out in concentration, navigating her character through the game and towards him, taking down a guard who had a gun to his head.

"You're welcome," she grinned, blowing a piece of hair out her eyes.

"I saw him there," Pete narrowed his eyes. "I was just biding my time,"

"Until he killed you?" she countered, the smile evident in her voice.

"Says the bird who thought a leather skirt was a good choice for an assassination mission," he gestured to the screen.

"Oh as if you're complaining," Allie scoffed. "Gotcha!"

Pete smirked as she took down another guard in his way and bit his lip thoughtfully wondering how he should play this. He didn't really speak to girls unless it was to shout at them to get out of the way in the playground at lunch. Especially Kim and Georgie who were always tarting about with their weird hairclips shaped like insects and glitter all over them.

"So where do you go to school?" he asked her, cringing at how high his voice went. Christ, he could just imagine Steve and Terry pissing themselves if they could hear this.

"Winchester Academy," Allie titled her controller again. "You?"

Pete stopped momentarily to stare at her, the weight of his situation becoming that little bit heavier. Whilst he didn't exactly hang out with the cream of society, even he knew the Winchester Academy in Belgravia was one of the poshest and most expensive schools in the country.

Straightening his legs out in front of him so as to make absolutely sure she couldn't see the hole in his left shoe, he cleared his throat and attempted to get some pride back into his voice.

"St Marks in Newham," he nodded.

Allie dropped her controller into her lap and turned to stare at him, her emerald eyes boring into the side of his head.

"As in..the school with the dead body in the football field?"

Pete laughed; that was definitely a new one.

"Two dead bodies," Pete told her, his eyes never leaving the screen. "Home of the Kray Twins,"

"Sod off," Allie laughed. "I didn't really believe it,"

"Whatever you say, Princess," he smirked, playfully knocking her controller out of her lap.

"Okay, as someone who grew up having to defend herself against two older brothers, believe me when I say don't start what you can't finish," she narrowed her eyes, standing and taking on a kung fu position. Or at least a Sporty Spice one.

"Oh, blondie," Pete shook his head, standing and reaching for a cushion and twirling it between his fingers before lifting it above his head. "Famous last words if ever I heard 'em,"

"I just don't get what's so amazing about it," Allie frowned staring up at the night sky, her body still warm from their play fight. It had taken three fake truces before a real one was made swearing in the name of the N64 itself that no pillow would be lifted again in anger. "It's a bunch of guys running around being paid millions to kick a ball into a net,"

"Are you out of your tree?" Pete cried, turning his head to look at her and ignoring the way the slightly damp grass brushed against his cheek. "It's an art form,"

"So is applying body glitter," the blonde grumbled. "No one gives you a million pounds for that,"

Smirking, Pete lifted his hands and clapped slowly, not entirely enjoying the weird feeling he got in his chest when she laughed. Why did he care?

"Thank you," she gave a royal wave towards the sky. "That's all I ever asked for,"

They fell into silence again as they had for the last hour and stared up at the night sky; it amazed Pete how much of it he could see out there. Granted they were still very much in London but simply not being in a built up council estate made all the difference. He could see the constellations that Mr Woolley was always rambling on about in Science. Even the air felt different, lighter somehow. And there were no sirens, no alarms going on, no shouting in the distance. All he could hear was her breathing and it made him want to fall asleep.

"Have you lived him all your life?" he asked her, not sure where the question had come from.

"I have, yeah," Allie nodded. "My parents moved here when my oldest brother Richard was four. Before that they lived all over the world. I guess they wanted to settle down, whatever that means. I don't get why you can't settle down in Paris…or Africa…"

"You don't like London?" Pete frowned.

"I love London," she answered softly. "I guess I just…wonder what else is out there." She shrugged and turned towards him, jumping slightly when she noted his bright blue eyes were already focused on her. "What about you?"

"My mansion is down the road," Pete grinned. "Makes this place look like a shed,"

"Funny," Allie elbowed him. "I meant your home,"

"My home," Pete snorted, glancing away from her and for the first time in an hour wanting nothing more than to get up and run out of there. He didn't want to go into this with her; not when they were laying in her huge garden next to a swimming pool in the shadow of a mansion. "I live with my mum obviously and my dad and my brother Steve,"

"No sisters?" she asked.

"Nah," Pete winked at her. "What would I want a girl around me all the time for?"

"Hey," Allie laughed, elbowing him again as he chuckled along with her, highlighting not for the first time the small cut on his bottom lip.

"Does that hurt?"

Pete frowned, not certain what she was on about; he watched as she lifted a finger to her own full lips and tapped her bottom one, signalling what she meant. He stiffened; fuck, he'd hoped it wasn't so noticeable now.

"Shit," he grinned but Allie noticed it didn't meet his eyes like the others had. "You can see it? And after I spent all that time putting make up on,"

"Oh well, you know your eye shadow looks amazing," she played along. "And the blush? Pffft, forget about it,"

Pete laughed, a real laugh this time, his heartbeat returning to normal as she lay back down, her beautiful eyes which had felt like a heat lamp on him returning to the sky.

"Whatever it is," she shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal of it. "If you ever wanted to tell me about it, you could." She turned back to face him and their eyes locked. "If you wanted,"

"I'll let you know, blondie," he told her, surprising himself with the fact he actually meant it. He had no idea what it was about this girl but he felt like he could talk to her; as it was their lives couldn't be more different and yet here he was laying on the grass with her talking about everything from N64 to footie to his family. What the hell was she doing to him?

Suddenly a shriek sounded from inside the house and they both sat up, staring at the huge bay windows, lit with amber from the inside where the fire crackled and kettle whistled.

"Do you reckon one of 'em killed the other?" he frowned.

"No, that was definitely a Harding shriek of happiness," Allie nudged him with her shoulder. "I think your mum took the job,"

Pete grinned; he had been astounded when Allie explained to him that her parents were lawyers and had been looking for a secretary or something to do typing and all that office crap. It was the kind of job his mum deserved; she was better than scrubbing toilets for £3.50 an hour.

"I reckon so," he nodded, turning to the blonde and grimacing. "Fuck, you don't reckon that means we have to see each other again, do ya?"

Allie stood up and grabbed one of Harry's Nerf guns from a nearby bench, loading it with one of the foam darts and turning to aim it at Pete, giggling when he gave a shout and rolled over, desperately trying to reach the other.

"In your dreams, Dunham," she smirked, her finger tightening on the trigger. "In. Your. Dreams."

Seven Years Later

"HAPPY RESULTS DAY!"

Pete Dunham left out a painful oomph as he was rudely awakened by a pillow slamming into his stomach, his bed dipping rhythmically as his eyes snapped open and he tried desperately to work out what the hell was going on.

"Get up, get up, get up!"

That voice.

His smirked, closing his eyes again and rolling onto his front before pushing his face deeper into his pillow, pretending she wasn't there and knowing it would drive her crazy.

"It's not even 8am, Harding," Pete mumbled. "Sod off and make me some toast, then we'll talk."

"She's been 'ere since bloody 7," Steve snorted as he re-entered the room, towelling off his wet hair and grinning at the blonde perched on the edge of his brother's bed. "Get up and put 'er out of 'er misery, will ya?"

"See that, that right there is why you have always been my favourite Dunham," Allie told him, her eyes twinkling as he grinned back.

Steve chuckled as he met the all too familiar ivy green eyes that had frequented this house the last seven years. Although gone was the shy, freckly girl behind them, in her place a young woman with curves in all the right places, her ridiculously short school skirt riding up that tiny bit higher as she shook Pete from his slumber. How the hell his brother was immune to it, he'd never know.

"Take that back," the sleeping blonde mumbled. "I've always been your favourite Dunham,"

"Not all that true, actually," she countered thoughtfully. "Gotta love your mum, Stevie over there is a definite second, Winston is third…"

"The fucking dog ranks higher than I do?" Pete cried, opening just one eye to glare up at the halo of blonde above him.

"To be frank, his hygiene is better than yours," Allie told him seriously, shrieking when he lunged at her, pulling her down onto the bed and hitting her with his pillow. "You just broke a seven year no pillow figh truce, you bitch!" she cried.

"The truce means piss all to me," Pete grinned, pinning her hands down in one of his. "But if you tell me I'm your favourite, I'll see what I can do about reinstating it,"

"Fuck me," Steve muttered to himself, shaking his head as he glanced over at them. He didn't know how long it would take but one day, when the sexual tension finally hit the two of them, he could only pray he was on another continent.

"Bleedin' 'ell," Moira peered into the room, her curlers still in her hair as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Should I call the old bill?"

"Call the fucking nut house," Steve cocked his head towards where Pete was still wrestling Allie, a pillow firmly over her face.

"Oh 'ello, darling," she called.

"Muuhnin Muuurh," Allie's voice came out muffled and breathless, one of her delicate hands which was still trapped in Pete's waving pathetically from its confines.

"Jesus, Pete, let the girl up, you'll kill her," Moira rolled her eyes before padding out towards the bathroom.

"She's fiiiiine," he drawled with a grin. "Come on. Magic words," Pete coaxed, leaning down to where her face was still covered and listening carefully.

"Puh tuh muuh huu guuh uh tuh wuhh"

"Once again?" he ripped the pillow from her face.

"Pete is the most handsome man in the world, my best friend and favourite Dunham," Allie shook her head at him, feigning disgust. "Happy?"

"As a fucking clown," he winked at her, trying to keep his eyes away from the gap in her shirt where he could see the tiniest bit of pale blue lace. They might be best mates but Christ, he was only human. "That cut me to the core, Harding,"

"Oh as if you have feelings that go beyond the realms of drunk, pissed off and horny," she flashed him a smile, knowing she was one of three people in the world who could get away with taunting him like this.

"Oh yeah?" Pete raised an eyebrow, he bent his head down so close to hers that the tips of their noses nearly touched and for whatever reason, Allie felt her stomach clench. "Well you forgot hungry," he smirked. "Now go make me some toast,"

"God, you're an arse," the blonde laughed, swapping him back and sliding off of the bed. She pulled at the hem of her skirt, suddenly feeling self-conscious as though Pete hadn't seen her in her school uniform a million and one times before. It was probably because Steve was there, she told herself. It had nothing to do with Pete pinning her to the bed with his shirt off. They'd been friends for seven years, so it wasn't as though it was weird to play fight. Half naked. On his bed.

"Oi, Harding," Pete chuckled, tossing a pillow at her. "Did you hear me?"

"What?" she blinked. "Oh, um, yeah sorry. Toast, coffee with two sugars,"

Pete frowned, noting the way her eyes were darting about the room and instantly felt bad. As worried as he was about getting the grades for university, he knew Allie had been torturing herself over it; it didn't help having two lawyers for parents. Not that Pete had ever seen them put any pressure on their kids. He remembered just a few nights ago Richard telling Allie that if she failed every single exam and spent her life selling cockles on the beach, he'd be proud of her and he had meant it. Unlike Pete's own father who despite showing no interest in his life whatsoever had informed him if he fucked up his exams to find a new home.

"Hey," Pete spoke softly, coming to a stop in front of her and reaching up to gently tuck her hair behind her ears. "Stop you're worrying, will ya? You'll be fine, I promise."

Allie let out a long breath, smiling when he brushed the pad of his thumb across her soft skin.

"And if I'm not?" she countered.

"Then you've got me," Pete answered her, as though it was the most simple thing in the world. She was his best friend; he didn't care what the future held for either of them or where it took them, if she needed him, he'd be there. "So you might want to keep me sweet," he teased, leaning his forehead against hers and nudging her towards the door.

"Alright, alright," she giggled. "I'll make your damn toast!"

"Pop in a slice for me, will you sweetheart?" Steve called after her as she disappeared into the hallway, laughing when a faint cry of "lazy bastards!" sounded out in return.

Glancing over at his brother as he yanked a grey hoodie from his wardrobe and pulled it on, Steve shook his head, walking over to him until there were mere inches between them and ignoring his brother's questioning look as he clicked his fingers and waved in front of his face.

"Fuck are you doing?" Pete frowned, swatting his hand away.

"Oh, so you're not blind," the older Dunham man smirked. "Guess we should get your head checked, then,"

"Are you off your tits already?" Pete exclaimed, reaching for his jeans and yanking them on. This is why he wanted to move into halls when he got his placement instead of commuting to campus every day, he wouldn't have to deal with Steve ripping him to pieces 24/7. Although what this one was about he had no idea; his boxers weren't on the floor, he'd definitely remembered to flush the toilet and he didn't owe him any money…

"What are you gonna do when she gets into uni?" Steve asked him, his tone taking on a touch of seriousness.

Where the hell did that come from?

"I dunno," Pete shrugged. "Allie's throwing a party at 'er house and we'll probably…"

"No, no, you daft prick," Steve frowned, rubbing his temples. "I mean what are you gonna do when she's off meeting blokes? Lord knows the girl ain't gonna be short of attention, Petey. Fuckin' look at her,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Pete snapped harshly.

"It means, baby brother…" Steve inhaled slowly, a low whistle making its way past his lips as he fought with the demon inside him. Pete would figure it out eventually. "It means, don't leave 'er on her jack." He pointed at him. "Look after 'er. She's a good girl,"

"She's not just a good girl, mate," Pete met his eyes seriously. "She's my girl. I won't let anyone fuck 'er about."

Steve smiled, nodding sadly as he grabbed his watch off of the battered bedside table and wrapped it around his wrist. He knew that Pete was a man of his word, that he wouldn't let anything happen to Allie Harding. But what he feared his brother didn't realise was it wasn't a question of her being in danger, it was a question of someone falling in love with her before Pete realised that he was in love with her first.

"Call me when you know, yeah?" Steve nodded, watching as Pete pulled back the seat of his old Ford escort and help Allie out. "And for fuck sake call mum before she keels over,"

"Will do, mate," Pete laughed, wincing when Allie shrieked when she noticed Lara Knight, the only friendship she had that was older than Pete's was sat with the boys around the fountain in St Mark's Park, all of them looking on the verge of vomiting as they clutched their envelopes.

"Oi, Pete," Steve called to him just before he turned away. He met his brother's eyes that were so like their mothers, the polar opposite of their father, thank fuck. "You'll do blindin', mate. You don't need a bunch of letters to tell you what a top bloke you are."

Pete blinked, startled and for the first time in their lives, unable to instantly fire something back. Steve was his big brother and he loved him but they rarely saw eye to eye, especially in the last year or so when Steve had begun joining their dad down the Abbey nearly every night.

"Fuckin' hell," Pete snorted, his voice wavering as he tried to convince himself it was the morning cold making his eyes sting. "You gonna get out and kiss me n'all?"

"Piss off," Steve laughed, shaking his head. "Go on, go get it over with." He pushed the gear into first and winked. "Give my love to Bovver and the girls,"

"Mate, why the fuck are we here?" Bovver shouted to him as he made his way over. "I'm freezing my fuckin' Jacobs off,"

"We agreed," Pete explained, ruffling Lara's hair as he walked past her and squeezed onto the fountain wall next to Allie. "Its tradition,"

"We go on one all night bender and hide in this fountain to get away from the filth and suddenly coming 'ere is tradition?" Bovver huffed, folding his arms. "Bunch of bollocks,"

"Oh my God, here!" Allie gritted her teeth and whipped Lara's fur stole from around her neck before leaning over and placing it on Bovver coaxing a loud roar of laughter from the boys. "You look gorgeous,"

"Fuck off, Harding," he grunted, wishing he could supress the grin on his face. When Pete had first started inviting Allie to spend time with them, Bovver hadn't been happy about it. In fact it had taken him the longest to warm to her; much like Pete's father, he saw her friendship as pity. He felt constantly as though she were judging them, the pretty little princess of W1 hanging out with the ruffians for a giggle. But it didn't take a genius to work out there was more to the girl than that; she had a genuinely good heart and whether Bovver liked it or not, Pete adored her. God help him, she had grown on him too.

Reaching for his cigarettes as they group around him began chatting, he fought the urge to just walk off, certain there were better things he could be doing with his time. Unlike this lot, he wasn't bothered what was in that envelope. Christ, what was the point? He wanted a job, not a career. Something that paid enough to get him out from under his folks roof and match tickets every now and then. You didn't need to go through three years of bullshit for that. Ripping the paper open nonetheless, he peered in and quickly closed his eyes, hating himself.

"Bov!"

His head snapped up, distracted from the cool, rippling opal surface of the pond next to them as Dave called his name. Glancing at his friend, he saw the huge grin on his face and felt almost guilty for not returning it.

"Come on, mate, what did you get?" he pushed.

"I've got a fuckin' headache," Bovver muttered, stubbing out his cigarette violently and clambering to his feet. "7 at yours, yeah?" he jerked his chin towards Allie who was giggling hysterically, barely able to stand up with Swill on her back singing "We are the Champions" at the top of his voice.

"Yeah," she frowned, straightening her skirt and starting towards him when Swill finally moved away from her, attempting what looked like a lap dance on Lara. "What did you…"

"I'll see you lot then," Bovver dismissed her, turning on his heel and stalking through the early morning mist which so far was broken only but their group and the odd jogger. His hunched form disappeared into the thick and Allie blinked, noticing his envelope was still on the wall growing damp as the moss beneath it pushed through the paper. As it rapidly took on a transparency with the water, Allie spotted a garish, bold letter E and winced. She had known Bovver wasn't expecting to do well, he prided himself on rarely showing up to school but that had to hurt.

"Looks like you're stuck with me, bitch," Lara grinned, throwing an arm around her shoulders and planting a loud kiss on her cheek. "Me and you at UCL and the girls over there at Regents,"

"Sod off," Dave laughed, kicking her playfully. "Imagine all the skirt we're going to get,"

"Oh please," the red head narrowed her eyes at him. "We'll be with some of England's most eligible bachelors." She winked at Allie and lowered her voice. "You might finally find someone worthy of your V card,"

"Lara!" Allie laughed, outraged as she jabbed her friend hard enough in the ribs to make her shriek. "Jesus Christ!"

"I heard that," Swill piped up, waving his half eaten sausage roll in the air. "And frankly I'm insulted that I'm not worthy,"

Allie felt her cheeks burning, turning to Pete who was looking at her strangely, a smile on his face that she hadn't seen before. He looked way too pleased.

"So I'm assuming you'll be harassing me still now you're going to be a mere mile away?" she raised an eyebrow as she sauntered over to him, tapping his cheek with her envelope.

"Only when I'm bored," he nodded. "Or hungover. Or lonely. Or in need of decent food,"

"Well just be sure to call ahead," she leaned forward and lowered her voice to a whisper, her emerald eyes glittering teasingly. "In case you know, I have a man in my room. Or five,"

Pete forced himself to laugh but for whatever reason, it was difficult. Ok, so he didn't like the idea of some posh wanker with his paws all over her. She was better than that. Fuck, he hadn't even thought about that aspect of uni. Blokes would be all over her; it's not as though Pete noticed or anything but she was gorgeous. With that soft blonde hair that always smelled of cinnamon and coconut, her smooth long legs and perfect curves. Its not that Pete noticed any of those things were there but he knew other men did. Just not him.

He let his eyes flickered over to her, noting the way the sunlight bounced off of her eyes and turned them a different shade of green.

No, he didn't notice shit like that.

"Yeah well," he sniffed, getting to his feet and stuffing his hands into his pockets. Bovver wasn't wrong about the temperature, how the hell Allie and Lara were faring in their skirts he had no idea. "You can start planning your reign as the new Hugh Hefner; I've got to go find my mum before she loses 'er loaf,"

Allie laughed, knowing Moira had been as bad as her own mother this last week.

"That reminds me because I know she'll ask." Pete glanced down, cocking his head so he could see her letter. "A, A, B." he pursed his lips and nodded, his lips turning up into a full out grin. "That's my girl,"

"My mum slept with most of the faculty and my dad donated money," Allie told him with a shrug.

"Piss off," Pete laughed, pulling her into a hug and kissing her forehead. "Proud of you, kid."

"You too," she closed her eyes, happily letting the warmth from his body sink into her own for a moment. "I'll see you tonight,"

"Vodka shots with your name on 'em, Harding," he winked. "I ain't letting you bail on me again,"

"I did not fucking bail!" Allie pointed at him. "I resigned with dignity,"

"Tell that to the poor bloke whose shoes you chundered on," Swill frowned, his eyes wide as he recalled the incident. "I didn't know puke could come out at that angle,"

"Alright, alright," Pete laughed, walking backwards and keeping his eye on them a moment longer. "I'll pick up Bov on the way, make sure the miserable fuck shows up,"

"Laters, mate!" Swill shouted to him.

"Bye handsome," Lara winked, her head on Allie's shoulder as she brought the blonde's hand to her lips and blew him a kiss.

Rolling his eyes as the excitement rose in their voices, he stepped out onto the road and pulled his jacket tighter around him. He glanced up at the sky, not needing to look where he was going as truth be told he could do this journey with his eyes closed.

1478 steps was all it took to get from St Marks' Park to the Dunham household, 17 minutes on a bad day and on a day like today it only took him 12. Just like it took him 26 seconds to walk the length of the front garden and a mere 7 to open his front door. 12 minutes and 33 seconds to walk into his house and see his mother in the kitchen with her back to him, bracing herself on the counter as the kettle boiled noisily next to her.

"Aye, aye stranger," he grinned. "I was just about to come see you at work, you'll never guess what your amazing son has added to his list of talents this ti…-"

He stopped head, his body seizing as his mother turned to face him; her left eye was cut just below the socket, deep and flowing. The trappings of a bruise marred her cheek bone and she was pale as her hands shook.

"Pete," she raised a finger to her lips, shushing him and in that moment he was six years old again, hiding with her in the pantry whilst his father smashed his way through the house,her fingers clutching painfully at his arm, his own eyes squeezed shut as his father's footsteps grew closer.

Except this time, Pete wasn't six. He wasn't wrapped in her arms, he didn't have his hands over her ears and most of all, he wasn't afraid.

"Where is he?" Pete asked her, his voice frighteningly calm. "Mum, where is he?"

She shook her head, silently pleading with him; she reached out and Pete saw the finger marks on her forearm, thick and bruised. He closed his eyes momentarily before turning on his heel and marching back out of the kitchen, stopping only when he heard the familiar creek of the last stair.

"Come home for your gold star, have you, Petey?" Michael Dunham looked his son up and down, snorting when he noted his shoulders were squared, the slight flicker of fear in his eyes the only thing belying his steadiness. "Well then," he took a step forward, his arms dropping to his side and it was only then that Pete spotted the wrench he was holding. "Let's see what we've got for you."

Please review, it means the world. Also sorry for ending this chapter on a dark note. And sorry again because there's more of that to come. :/ Don't the hate me!

El xx