Sam finished walking the entire floor of Saxon’s place. He nodded over at Gordon who went off to tell the boys that the Captain didn’t appear to be at work tonight.

He settled in at his usual place at the bar and rested his elbows upon it, debating what he wanted to do next.

He hadn’t seen the ginger anywhere neither and he even had ol’ Gord on the hunt for her. Sam smirked to himself. He was better than an old bloodhound when he was obsessed with something Gordon was. A fact he had exploited to his advantage more than once in the time he had been runnin’ things. Something he had every intention to keep right on doing.

Drumming his fingers upon the bar, he debated if he should heed the Captain’s advice and keep the fellas reigned in, or let them have at it while he was away?

He was also considering the pro’s and con’s of showin’ up at his new digs with everyone, you know, out of concern... his smirk deepening. He was quite certain the Captain’s bossy little ginger would just love havin’ them all o’er for tea after all. And he was sure the boys would be real interested to see how he was livin’ compared to the rest of ‘em.

Sam was about to gather the boys to do just that when he felt a pair of eyes staring holes into the back of his head.

Honestly, Donna didn’t know why she thought things would be any different this year? This was her life after all, that would be asking too much. She didn’t even need to be at work today, but she was. It was better than the alternative.

She climbed the stairs past Harry and River’s flat up to the roof and clumsily opened the door, not noticing it remained propped open as she passed through it. In one hand she held the half empty bottle of citrus infused vodka, and in the other, her mobile.It was still light out and the sudden burst of sun temporarily blinded her as she stumbled across the threshold and onto the rooftop. Once her eyes adjusted, it sorta reminded her of her old flat, in fact, she could see it fro here, she noted.

Donna sat down in an ungraceful heap, settling her things around her before smoothing her skirt out and dangling her legs over the edge of the building. She leaned over just enough to catch sight of the street below. A wave of vertigo hit her and she gripped the building’s ledge tightly and jerked back.

Note to self, don’t do that again.

Instead, she leaned back on her elbows, the rays of the sun washing over her, and felt the tears she had been fighting before prick at her eyes even as she squeezed them shut.

It was bloody Mother’s Day... Again. she had thought that maybe this year... but no. Something kept interfering with them meeting Christina and she hadn’t heard from her so far today. Chris didn’t seem to realise what today was either. Then again, since karaoke night (which was fantastic) and his fall (which was not) he had seemed distant and she had no idea why.

James was occupied with Rose.

Peter just told her he had to quit... effective immediately.

They had a reporter snooping around the Club.

She had the awful dream again this morning where she and Chris had a little boy and she lost him... waking in a panic.

AND she walked into her office today to find a message from fucking Sylvia. A direct violation of the peace bond. It didn’t say anything, only that a Sylvia Noble had called looking for her. 

No one thought anything of the waitress who smiled as she crossed the Club’s floor, flitting from patron to patron. Her trajectory seemingly random, but far from it.

Not a soul batted an eye at the man working security stationed by the restroom as he surveyed the crowd. He came well vested from the group supplementing the Club’s normal security staff.

The well dressed man with the expensive suit and even more expensive watch? Or his companion, a hipster if there ever was one? As they mingled with the VIP’s, no one suspected they didn’t belong. Their credentials were solid, they smiled like they belonged.

They didn’t.

None of them did.

Outside, in the throngs of increasingly intoxicated holiday celebrants, well placed individuals were placed watching. Waiting.

They had a plan after all.

They had eyes and ears where they needed them to be. They had access to everything and everyone.

All they needed to do was wait for the signal.

Everyone was there for different reasons. Some for a payout. Some for revenge against either the owner, or one of the two former cops that worked inside. Or maybe the woman that promised they’d all get rich after they ran out Saxon’s but instead, scammed them all and then laughed at them as she disappeared with their money?

It didn’t matter. Their revenge was in inside that club. 

And it was theirs for the taking.

The new club was making some waves. Apparently on the weekends, they could also offer strippers in their VIP section of the club.

Whomever was spinning the PR for the club was really doing one helluva job as they were everywhere. Social media, radio, the telly... they had spent a great deal of money for their New Year’s Even Bash. Promising high end cocktails and champaign, celebrities and (Donna thought) tacky promotional give-a-ways. 

She wasn’t certain if it was going to be worth the money the were shelling out, but they were certainly making a lot of noise!

Donna flicked off the computer in her office and sighed. She needed to get back with Rose and finalize plans for New Year’s Eve. She needed to get Harry on board and find out what plans he had, but since his return, he was still hit and miss with coming round which worried her. She needed to speak with James about drinks...there had to be something special in the works for their biggest night of the year! And, so help her, she had to talk with Jack about security, especially with everything going on. Thankfully, she could have Chris there as a buffer. Then another thought flitted through her mind, she should probably contact Osgood about some online promotion...nothing tacky and over the top, just some select advertising perhaps? And, Clara... she needed to find out if Clara thought she’d be adequately staffed that night. 

Oh and the DI...Rose had mentioned maybe using him to fill in for one of her guitarist. Oi! She had her hands full!

At least she knew Owen would be on hand. Kisses were handed out freely on New Year’s Eve, he wouldn’t be missing for want of (almost) anything. She reasoned and River, well, she would of course be there. She smiled to herself, she always looked so elegant on New Year’s Eve...

“Oh GODS!” she gasped, she still had to find something to wear!

The chaos at Saxon’s Sinful apparently made the news that night.

It made the papers the next morning too.

It was of course, all over the internet. It was blogged with photos thousands upon thousands of times over.

Social media was having a field day with it.

The old adage that there was “no such thing as bad publicity,” didn’t seem to hold true in this case.

People all over London were certainly talking about the club, but for the first time ever, the talk was not good.