Big Fat Legal Disclaimer

This plot's mine. The original plot and characters belong to Guy Ritchie. I'm still holding out for 'borrowing' privileges for One Two and Bob anyway… as well as rest of the worlds female population. (sigh)

The rating has been changed to 'M' because of One Two's mouth.

A great big Thank You to Thatsaporkpie, twentywings, and Soapiefan for your wonderful reviews. They made me smile and have been a wonderful source for inspiration.

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There's Still Something About Bob

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One Two slammed his front door shut with enough force that the door threatened to come off its hinges. Of course, one malevolent look from the angry Scotsman made the door think twice about it. It was better to remain mostly intact rather than be reduced to splinters, after all.

Mr. One Two was in a bit of a bad mood.

All right, so he was downright livid.

But One Two was having a bit of a bad week.

Scratch that, he was having a bit of a bad month.

One Two made his way down his steps and began the long trek towards the Speeler. He had begun to notice earlier in the week that he was prone to copious amounts of road rage. After the third time of nearly busting a man's head over who had the proper 'right of way' (which he did, of course) he decided that it was best to skip driving altogether until he figured out how to get a leash on his anger. It would also, hopefully, give him time to cool down before he reached the Speeler and was tempted to unleash his wrath on the lads.

Well, gettin cold's a sure thing; it's the middle of January, for fuck's sake.

One Two knew he'd been a bit of a nasty bastard the last few weeks to his crew, but things were definitely not the best of times.

Their one shot of running a legitimate business was being covered with so much red tape that it was beginning to look like a bloody Christmas decoration – all it needed were the spazzy twinkle lights and a bit of holly.

It also didn't help matters that their current real estate lawyer was a bit of a yellowbellied idiot that didn't know his shoes from his arse. He hated to admit it, but the one thing that Lenny was right bloody good at was cutting through the red tape that was currently being plastered all over their slowly crumbling building. With Lenny serving a new purpose of feeding the crayfish infesting the Thames, the Wild Bunch was left with cutting through the tape the old-fashioned way. The slow, agonizingly painful, legal old-fashioned way.

Unless, they could get a bit of scratch that'd help grease the wheels of Lenny's (now Archy's) contacts.

Jobs, however, were few and far between.

Jobs were especially limited now that their driver, Bob, was M.I.A. There was only so much that he and Mumbles could pull off, and the rewards for those jobs were laughable and therefore hardly worth risking their necks over.

Bob…

One Two raked his hands through his hair angrily before shoving his hands back into his pockets. That was another thing that was pissing him off. He hadn't seen or heard from Bob since the prat had left his flat after their… moment? Intimate exchange? The Whatever-The-Fuck-That-Was event that happened at the end of the party. Not that he'd been keeping tabs on Bob or anything, but this was a bit unusual for the Brit. All of the members of the Bunch had at one time or another taken a bit of a holiday from the crew. But they usually told him about it before they shipped off to go God knows where.

Bob had not only skipped out on telling him about his unexpected trip to the unknown, but he hadn't told any of the others either. That wasn't a good sign. Bob was also the type to keep in touch with either himself or Mumbles at the very least. He hadn't received any calls or messages at all from Bob. The prat's cell was practically attached to him and he would never leave the bloody thing lying about. He even tried to call Bob several times only to hear the phone go straight to voice mail.

Hell, he even went by Bob's flat with no success.

That was a bloody fuckin' joke! One Two grimaced in memory.

One Two, in a rare bit of insanity, had paced about the front of Bob's nearly derelict building like a daft idiot for a while before actually pressing the com button in hopes of actually talking to the man. Of course, being all nerves and little brains at the time, One Two might have punched the button a bit too hard. The whole box had fallen from the side of the crummy building and was dangling from its wiry entrails, sparking contemptuously. One Two had scrambled to replace the box back into its nook only to have it pop out like an insane electrical jack-in-the-box. After three more attempts of shoving the bloody wiry beast back into its hole from whence it came, lots of desperate pleading, and several bouts of cursing that'd make a Scottish dockworker blush, One Two had finally convinced the damn thing to stay put and took off before anyone took notice of him. If any passer-bys did see him they probably thought it best to leave the infuriated Scottish Don Quixote to his duel with the wily com box and go about their own business.

That delightful incident happened about a week ago, about a couple days after the Bunch's meeting. One Two's mood had continued it's downward spiral, and there was still no sign of the suddenly elusive Handsome Bob.

All this amounted to not only pissing One Two off, it had him fucking worried. He hated being worried.

It didn't help that he was still… confused about 'whatever' happened between him and Bob at the party. He was still a bit shocked that he even let it happen - let alone enjoyed it. He never thought of himself as gay before and he sure as hell didn't think of himself as gay now. It's not as if he looked at other guys and, well, thought of them that way. He also still liked the ladies. A lot.

But still, there was something about Bob that had always affected him. He was always protective of the cheeky Brit, especially when he had been new to the Wild Bunch. Bob was in turn fiercely loyal to him. One Two didn't realize exactly how much until Mumbles had told him about how Bob had taken care of his mum in her last days while he was locked up in a cell for two years.

Bob was truly one of his best mates, but… How the hell did the bloody bastard go from 'best mate' to… whatever the hell their relationship was now? It made things worse that he couldn't feel the Brit out. Sure, over the summer Bob had made it known that he preferred the boys… but… did he want to make a go of it? After all, it was just one bloody dance, and it was just too fucking awkward for words. Did Bob plan to push for something more just because they…

Why the FUCK am I so worried about this? I just wanna know what the fuck Bob's thoughts and feelin's are about… That-Thing-That-Happened-At-The-Party…

Oh, fuck it… so ya fuckin' kissed the bastard and ya think tha' ya might of liked it. Man up and admit it, ya daft bastard. One Two ran one hand over his face before regretting taking it out of his pocket. He'd forgotten gloves… and a hat… He'd barely remembered his coat, but he was still sorely under dressed for a winter in London. One Two rolled his eyes at his absent-mindedness and continued on to the Speeler.

What does that prat do to me to make me act like this? And am I actually considering… more with Bob? One Two released a short growl of pure frustration – not noticing that his fellow pedestrians were now giving him a wide berth.

Why should I even be thinkin' about it? Bob's still shacked up w' tha' lawyer… Bertie… One Two absolutely refused to think of the lawyer that was married to Stella. He tended to see things in shades of red whenever he did. He, of course, was not jealous in any way in regards to the posh lawyer. Not one bit. Nope –

"Could you please tell me why the fuck you're walkin' instead of drivin' your cranky ass to the pub? It's cold enough to freeze your bollocks off! " One Two looked over his shoulder to see Mumbles standing by his car. His nice car that was sure to be toasty warm inside.

"What the fu- Are ya stalkin' me now?" One Two came a bit closer to the Mumbles and the oasis disguised as a vehicle but made no motion towards stepping into the car, despite it's welcoming warmth. Mumbles scoffed a bit at One Two's antics though not really in the mood to put up with them.

"I didn't need to, I heard you bellowin' all the way from the Speeler. Now, get in the car, if you please. We need to have a bit of a chat." Mumbles opened the passenger door, letting the heat rush out. One Two tried not to make a scene of relishing the escaping warmth.

"It can wait t-till I get to the pub. I'm on a bit of a walk t-ta clear my head. Lovely weather for it, t-too." Mumbles quirked an eyebrow at the sound of One Two's teeth chattering and sighed internally. He hated it when One Two got this out of sorts. The man tended to have the mentality of a stubborn toddler when he got to this point. The things I do…

"Yeah, the weather's so lovely that your lips have turned a lovely shade of violet. Now, please get your ass in the car before it gets frostbitten. I'm not the best at amputation, so I'm only looking out for your best interest." Mumbles made a welcoming gesture towards the car that would have put Vanna White to shame. Still, One Two did his best impression of a stoic, formidable statue. Mumbles sighed, audibly this time.

"Listen, mate. Times a wastin'. I'm not getting any younger, and your sure as hell not getting any prettier." One Two let out a huff of laughter before Mumbles continued, "so can we just cut this manly pissin' contest of yours short and get on with our lives?"

"I dunno… am I goin' ta be sent to my room w' out my supper?" A hint grin showed on One Two's face and his eyes sparked mischievously.

"Just get in the fucking car." Mumbles said, his voice full of exasperation.

"Yes, Mummy dear – ow - watch it!" Mumbles had finally had enough and cuffed the Scot up side the head. "Fine, ya grouchy bastard! I'm getting in the bloody car!" Mumbles gratefully got in the warm car and waited until One Two was settled before he drove off towards the Speeler.

"Good, now that you've seen a bit of reason, I can tell you the news." One Two, who was truly only focusing on the heat that was pouring out of the car's air vents, spared him a droll look.

"Ah, the news. So what was so important that it couldn't have waited till we got to the pub?"

" Well, I finally heard from your boy. Seems Bob's forgotten his phone charger." There was a brief moment of silence in the car before -

"Why the FUCK did 'e call you? What the- wait a damn minute – he's no' my boy, he's no' my anythin' do ya hear me! Mumbles wha- why the hell are ya laughin, ya bloody bastard!"

Mumbles had given up on trying to contain his laughter. Fortunately the rest of the drive was a short one as One Two continued sputtering indignantly about Bob for the rest of the trip.

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Yes, I know – a rotten place for me to leave it. But have faith! I'm working on the next chapter as I … er, type. As always reviews are welcome, feel free to let me know what you think.