A/N:
In honour of reaching 1k reads, which I genuinely can't believe, I'm posting again and most likely on Sunday toooo!!! Thank you for the support and for sticking with me this far, and (hopefully) you will continue to the end, whenever that may be! ❤️❤️❤️

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Hormones. They were the reason Leah felt odd.

It was a slap in the face because she had forgotten to track them, and they were doing their absolute best altering her normal self. She didn't ask them to, and under no circumstance did she give them permission, but they functioned on their own, and now she had to deal with them with four guys.

Life really couldn't get any better than that.

Leah waited for her window of opportunity and appeared in the hallway when Tom was shrugging on his jacket. It was not the most ideal situation, but he seemed mature enough to understand, and hopefully save her from the dreaded words.

"Heyy Tom, do you think I could join you?"

He paused, midway pulling on his sleeve.

"Do you think I could ask why?"

There was never going to be a straight yes answer, much to her disappointment, so she sent him a disapproving look to get him to answer properly.

"If you've thought of something, I'll just add it to the list," he offered, having resumed the adjustment of his jacket by untucking his collar.

Leah sighed. "Look, I appreciate you wanting to keep me here, but I sort of need some...things."

"I can get them for you. It's not a big deal."

She winced at his fast paced, oblivious answers. It was becoming an anxious hassle.

"Mm, I don't think you would be comfortable."

"What do you mean?" he asked, teasing a confused, lopsided smile. "Of course I would."

She wanted to kick herself. Slap herself to just say the words, because he clearly wasn't getting it. Mentally, she was already applying the beating, but she had had faith that he would have grasped on by now.

The pitiful confusion said otherwise.

"Think Tom," Leah told him sternly. "Think."

Telepathy worked its silent magic, and his expression changed in slow-motion.

"Oh! Oh yeah uh- yeah. Yeah okay, you might wanna..." Tom was pointing between himself and her.

"Come along?" Leah guessed, raising her brows. "Yeah, I think that's best."

Grabbing her own shoes from the rack, she crouched on one knee to lace them up, well aware of the fact she might have scarred Tom with embarrassment.

"Uh-I, hang on. I won't be a second."

"What? Tom?"

Baffled at his urge to run back into the depths of the house, Leah resumed tying her laces, and stood poised for his return.

"Explain?"

Tom looked a little less embarrassed when he appeared. He even had his hands held out apologetically.

"I just wrote a note and stuck it on the fridge. Saves us having to find them outside and tell them you're with me."

Leah was stunned.

"So you thought of that fast enough but not...this?"

He shrugged at her point to the ground, long arms dangling by his sides.

"I...It doesn't matter." Leah shook her head to herself, walking to the door. "Let's go."

<>

Not even five minutes into their drive, and Tom had looked over about fifteen times.

If Leah counted, he probably stole a glance every thirty seconds which was about ten seconds less concentrating on the roads where his attention should have been.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" she asked, head resting on her palm, propped up by her elbow.

Now that she was over their communication problems, it was amusing to see how the stress was getting to him. Fidgeting his grip on the steering wheel, and the on-off bouncing of his knee. She couldn't help the smile.

"Like what?"

"Oh my goodness," Leah laughed, gently hitting her head against the window behind her. "You're so freaked out!"

"I'm not freaked out!" Tom retaliated, in the squeakiest voice she had ever heard.

"Yes you are!"

"No I'm not!"

Leah fell into laughter again, eventually hovering a hand out in front of her to reason.

"Okay, try and look me in the eye."

"I-I'm driving."

"I know, I know. Just for a second."

Tom hesitated, and Leah was already on the verge of laughing again, but when there was a safe gap on the roads, he looked over and as expected, missed horribly.

He failed before he even started.

"C'mon you must have had a girlfriend before! There's no way you're not familiar with the wonders that each month brings and the-"

Leah stopped herself as soon as she'd rubbed her eyes clear, and could see how Tom had gone completely still.

The stupid humour disappeared, the smile stretching her cheeks faded, and regret filled its place.

"Shit, I'm so so sorry." Her voice dropped to a sorrowed, normal volume. "I completely forgot. That was so inconsiderate of me."

Tom was staring hard out on the road, but forced a weak smile her way. She could see the hurt drain the spark from his eyes.

"Don't worry about it."

"No Tom, I'm so sorry. I should have thought-"

"We all left something behind," he interrupted ruefully, voice deep with reopened wounds. He took a long pause, dipping his gaze to the ring on his finger that had started wearing again. "For me, it was someone."

Leah swallowed thickly. She felt awful again. It was the second time she had made an insensitive comment towards him, and she wondered just how many more there were, waiting to catch her out.

"She'll wait for you."

"Mm, somehow, I doubt it. She's probably found some guy who won't leave her at dawn with just a note sayin' how sorry he was."

"Hey, give yourself some credit," Leah countered meaningfully. "You're tall, as in actually over six feet, you have strikingly good looks, you play bass and guitar, and you have an excellent sense of humour. What insane woman would want to trade that?"

Tom remained quiet.

"Don't write yourself off before you know for sure," she continued softly. "I think if she really loves you, she will be right there when you get home. And if she's not, then she's a crazy woman because you clearly love her, and that alone is worth waiting every second for, no matter what."

Leah's speech sounded surprisingly good for something she had just strung together on the spot.

"Thanks," Tom mumbled, visibly relaxing in his seat.

"You're welcome."

They drove on, but Leah could see the little smile Tom was just trying to hide. She had an eyebrow already raised in anticipation for when he finally decided to share what was amusing him.

"Aren't I just the perfect guy?" he boasted, and displayed a few straight teeth from the quirk of his mouth.

She rolled her eyes. "Alright, that's enough ego inflation for one day."

<>

Entering a large service station signposted off the motorway, Tom parked the distance away from the main shopping complex where there were a few other cars occupying spaces.

"Couldn't avoid the cctv completely, but I think this is far enough away," Tom said, taking the keys from the ignition. "I guess just try and act normal and not like we're being hunted or anything."

"So should I keep my hood up or down?" Leah asked, holding the fabric that bundled behind her neck.

"Oh, um, up to you but maybe keep it down because for the first time it's not raining. But you could try and find a cap to wear if you're worried about being recognised."

Leah nodded with the thought. "And I'll meet you back here?"

"Yeah, it's best we're not seen together just in case," Tom agreed. He pulled out some cash from his jacket. "Some of the finest Great British notes, Miss Devereaux."

Leah scrunched up her nose as she unclipped her seatbelt.

"Don't try that again, please."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't sound like that," she responded plainly, taking the sliver of ten and twenty pound notes from his hand, and sliding them into a pocket for safe keeping. "Not even close."

Tom pouted like a child.

Shaking her head, Leah bundled out the passenger side and started walking towards the main entrance. There were a few people here and there, but if she just kept her head down, she wouldn't have to worry when someone by chance looked in her direction.

Hopefully, she could find everything she needed and be back in the safety of the van in no time.

<>

Location: Unknown

Puffs of smoke circulated the small office space and deepened the grimy stains on the ceiling.

Four chipped plastered walls enclosed the private space with crooked vents tapered either side of the only access point, and a frosted window was concealed by dust-covered blinds.

Occupying the room though, was a man sitting in a pristine brown leather chair behind a spotless mahogany desk.

His feet were crossed at his ankles and propped on the expensive wood, the points of his polished shoes gleaming in the light. His grey two piece suit was pressed and tailored to his broad shoulders and huge frame impeccably, and his hair was styled simply with his sideburns trimmed neatly to match.

There was a rich, Cuban cigar in his mouth, responsible for the occasional thick clouds into the stale air, and his mischievous brown eyes flicked aimlessly over the photographs that he turned in his hands.

The man wasn't agitated, but he checked his Rolex with a quick snap of his wrist and a downwards glance as he awaited his company. It was still a minute early, but Matty liked being on time. Order was very important to him, and he had learned that from a very young age.

A sharp rap of knuckles made him lift his eyes once again, and he smiled joyfully when the door creaked inwards.

"Anton, my man! How are ya doin'?"

"Matty," was the gruff acknowledgement, and Anton made himself comfortable in one of the less extravagant chairs on the other side of the desk.

Not at all surprised by the dismissive behaviour, Matty sat back.

"I didn't realise gettin' the next batch in and running a coupl'a errands was such a gruelling task."

Rolling the cigar between his fingers, Matty noted the slumped figure of his partner, the hands tightly shoved in jacket pockets, and the furrowed brow pulled down over grey eyes which avoided him completely.

"What's up, mate?" he asked, and then quickly broke into a cheeky smirk. "Did you run out of hair gel again?"

Anton clamped his jaw together.

"C'mon!" Matty urged playfully. "Spit it out!"

When there was still no reply, he popped the cigar back in his mouth, and distracted himself with the photographs in hand.

"When do we get hyim?"

Matty should have known, but it didn't stop him tensing up at the thickness of his partner's accent. He pressed his eyes closed for a fleeting moment, and then dropped his feet with an accusing thud.

"This again?"

"Yes, this again," Anton retorted, sitting forward. "What would the boss say if he knew that the shitty numbers didn't add up! That the money doesn't exist because we don't hyave it in the accounts!"

"I'm your boss before him, and you do what I tell you to do," Matty warned, contradicting his usual cheery tone.

He rested the cigar in the ashtray, but dropped the intimidating scowl when he found amusement in the situation. His easy-going smile soon made its return.

"Don't worry yourself, bud! Everything is under control. It won't be long before you can 'ave yourself a nice 'oliday in the Bahamas, and you'll be wondering why you ever got yourself so worked up."

In the comfort of his chair, Matty proceeded to sigh with faux sadness at the first square photo in the pile.

"As for this little one, poor thing. Born into a mess she couldn't do nuffin' about and with no idea what her father owes..."

"So why can't we get hyim now?" Anton hounded impatiently. "There's no point making him run after us when we could be using him and his...friends for that matter."

Matty eyed him curiously. "Full of questions today aren'tcha?"

It was the Russian's turn to scowl, not that it was too dissimilar from his resting expression.

"I don't like waiting unnecessarily."

"I can tell," Matty said calmly, putting the photos down. "But until their friend, Ray Tabano, coughs up and tells the boss man where they're staying, we have to wait and do the boring stuff like counting the numbers."

Anton didn't seem too pleased at the reality, so clasping his large hands together, Matty leaned forward over the desk.

"Maybe if you hadn't pushed him away, we wouldn't be waiting."

Despite his young age, Matty knew how to lead his guys, and twisting their words against them was just an added bonus of satisfaction.

Anton was a great guy to work with and had a lot of exceptional qualities about him, but he was not the sharpest tool in the shed, and he said a lot of things without really thinking them through.

"Didn't think of that one did you?" Matty squinted, a crooked smile lifting the corner of his mouth. "Now, sling yer hook. I'm sick of the sight of you."

Picking up his abandoned cigar that required relighting, he waited for the annoyed boots of his partner to stomp away.

"And Anton buddy-" Matty coaxed him back through a rushed puff of new smoke. "Go get laid. I don't want to deal with your pissy mood when we get the call."

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Leah's little shopping trip was successful, and she returned with a navy baseball cap on her head, and five very full shopping bags straining her fingers.

"I didn't expect you to buy the whole shop," Tom commented, as she shut her door and dumped her stuff on the middle seat and her own footwell.

"It may come as a surprise to you, but I didn't have time to pack a suitcase that had my permanent needs," Leah answered, noticing the unlit cigarette that was pinched between his teeth.

"Touché," he mumbled around it, grabbing his seatbelt to clip in.

When the engine rattled to life, Leah slipped her own seatbelt across her body, looking up when she heard the window slide down.

"Are you going to smoke that?" she asked, when Tom fumbled with the flick of a lighter.

"Yeah?" When his eyes wandered across her face, he flipped the catch closed. "Do you not want me to?"

"No, it's okay." Leah turned away. "It could be worse I guess."

Resting her head back, she waited for the smoke to invade the air she breathed.

There was no conversation as Tom navigated his way out, but Leah stole a glance at him under the protection of her baseball cap, smiling to herself because he had decided against smoking.

She wouldn't hold it against him, but she just hated the smell and couldn't understand the appeal when it lingered on clothes and increased health risks. Of course, there was a small exception to her displeasure, but she would have preferred if he called it quits too.

The route back was different as planned, and the roads turned bumpier and narrower. The scenery became welcoming around quaint homes, and spring bloomed across fields of gold.

"You won't tell them will you?" Leah asked, picking at her nails. She looked over dubiously, "I'd rather not let anyone else know. "

"'Course not,'' Tom replied. "Although, if you're grouchy they might catch on..."

Retaliating, Leah leaned over, which rustled a few bags in the process, and slapped his arm. He tried to lean away and keep a steady hold of the wheel, but he just ended up swerving towards the middle of the road.

"I'm sorry! Don't attack me!" Tom pleaded through nervous laughter, flicking his eyes between her and the road, which was luckily empty.

"I was just about to offer to cook dinner for us tonight, but now I don't think I will." Leah crossed her arms in a huff.

"Granted, but you don't have to anyway." Tom recovered, and slowly increased their speed again. "I'm always happy to throw something together."

Relaxing her tensed arms, Leah was thrown into thought.

"Depends on what you've bought actually."

"What?" Tom frowned at her, "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm not trying to say anything."

"You don't like it when I cook?"

"I didn't say that," she said cleverly, holding back a smile. "And heating stuff in the microwave isn't cooking."

"I am perfectly capable of making a meal from scratch!"

Leah hummed, nodding slowly, because she was very unconvinced by this bold statement.

"You know what?" Tom tapped the steering twice. "Do cook for us tonight. A whole meal from scratch, for the five of us."

As lovely as Tom was and his futile attempt to defend his corner, it would be rude not to prove him wrong.

Leah wasn't the best cook in the world, far from it, but she had a couple of tricks up her sleeve that she could put to use. Plus, the distraction would be appreciated knowing the next few days would be out of whack, which alone made her want to curl up in a ball and hibernate until it was over.

There were other things too that she couldn't shake from her mind, of which the main contender was the events of last night.

She had since decided she would take Joe's room and it would be a new condition whether Steven liked it or not, because she could not deal with a repeat of sharing a bed with him on top of everything else her body was throwing at her.

"Alright," she agreed, with a confident raise of her chin. "Challenge accepted."

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