A/N – As you'll probably guess, this takes place just around the beginning of Season 2. Just to make you aware that Grace won't feature apart from in passing comment. She won't be back as she is at the end of Season 2. I think there's plenty of Tommy/Grace fics but I'm not a fan of hers so I won't be including her. I haven't decided yet if May will feature. Hope you are enjoying this so far!

Chapter 2

He walked with purpose through Camden Town, his peaked hat slightly dipped and his coat wafting gently behind him. When he finally reached the warehouse, he was led inside by a man taller than he. He was of slim build with dark hair and attempted to intimidate him.

"Put 'im down Ollie, put 'im down mate, he's only little." The cockney voice came booming from up ahead. "You on your own?"

"Seems so." Tommy answered, looking behind him as if to check.

"You're a brave lad ain't ya." Alfie Solomons turned from him and made his way through the warehouse with Tommy wandering behind him. They finally made their way up to a room at the end of the corridor where Alfie handed him a drink.

"Not bad." Tommy answered, placing the glass to his lips.

"Not bad? Not bad?" Alfie quizzed. "Its fucking awful that stuff. Fucking brown stuff. Its horrible, its for the workers. White stuff, now that is for the bosses. Come and look."

He walked away again leaving Tommy trailing behind him. He quickly turned his head, noticing Ollie was still following.

Eventually he found himself sitting in Alfie Solomons office. A dimly lit room with furniture everywhere. After some ribbing about Tommy's Romany background, they started talking business. Tommy was determined to get Solomons on side. After the attack from Sabini, Tommy needed him. He sat there for what felt like hours before Solomons finally seemed interested in listening to what he had to say. The threat of the gun in the drawer constantly playing on his mind.

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"I don't know why you're fussing so much James. I can go myself." Sara pushed her feet into her shoes and secured the strap.

James sighed. "Sara, we've been through this. Please don't make it any more difficult than this needs to be. You are not going alone to meet this man."

Sara looked up at him, utterly deflated. They had been having this same conversation for what felt like hours. They had long since arrived in London after making the car journey from the port in Southampton. The remaining day of their voyage had gone by uneventfully and they had arrived into Southampton on a relatively pleasant April afternoon. James had arranged for a driver to meet them. He had been a plump, balding but relatively cheery man. Sara thought he looked as though he was in his late fifties and worried that he was perhaps over exerting himself when he tried to lift their multiple bags into his car. She had nudged James slightly in the arm to point it out but he had just shrugged, seemingly not caring that the man was growing redder by the second. She had offered her assistance much to James' annoyance, but the driver had rebuffed her offer, insisting he was perfectly fine.

Eventually they made it to their townhouse in central London. James had grown up close to Primrose Hill and had been insistent that they set up home around his childhood neighbourhood. Despite being only twenty six years old, Sara had a wealth of life experience and growing up in a fast paced city such as New York, she was used to living alongside those who weren't as well off as she was and she wasn't as concerned about having to live in one of the best neighbourhoods as James was. When they had arrived outside the town house, Sara had been taken aback at the sheer scale of it. She was surprised to see this spacious property based in such a heavily populated area. James had warned her against travelling to certain areas, particularly in the East End. He had told her stories of the Whitechapel murders which had happened when James was only twelve years old. They had shocked the city and what was worse was the fact the killer had never been caught. Sara's body had covered in goosebumps at that point, desperately wondering why he had brought her here. But still, she had settled in the few days they had been there. She had had a chance to explore the area, taking advantage whenever James was at the hospital or visiting someone so she was beginning to feel relatively comfortable in the area.

"James…." She tried to reason with him. "You won't be able to come to work with me every day so what difference does today make?"

"Please stop arguing Sara." His voice slightly raised, taking her by surprise. "The meeting is in Camden. Its not quite the same as it used to be. I just want to make sure it's safe before you start going there yourself. Is it such a crime for me to want to protect you?"

Sara shook her head, feeling suitably chastised. She pulled her coat on and started to walk towards their front door.

"Wait!" James called from behind her. She spun around to face him. "Take those off."

She looked around her, confused about what he meant.

"That." He confirmed, pointing to her hand.

"My rings?"

James nodded. "And the earrings. The last thing I want is you wandering around wearing items just screaming to be stolen."

Sara nodded and removed the jewellery, placing them in a drawer of the end table which was situated at the bottom of their long winding staircase. Satisfied, James placed his hat upon his thinning hair and grabbed his cane, offering his arm to her. She accepted it and followed him down the steps, closing their front door behind them.

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The noise of a door closing caused him to look up. He had been standing at the front door of his sisters house, having just paid her a visit. His peaked cap was pulled far down over his eyes and a cigarette hung precariously from his lips, smoke billowing up around his face.

His eyes darted up the street where he saw a couple emerging from one of the houses. Judging by their clothes, he could tell exactly what side of London they belonged in. The gentleman was clearly tall. Taller than him. His grey pinstriped suit visible slightly under the long black coat he wore. He walked with a purpose, with a goal. He had seen that walk before. He had that walk. It caused people to dart out of his way and tilt their hats to him as he walked past. Although he did doubt this man had that same kind of effect. His eyes eventually fell on the young woman beside him. She had a hat on which was tight to her hair but he could just about make out the hint of golden blonde from underneath. His breath hitched in his throat. No. It couldn't be. He hadn't seen that shade of blonde in two years. He willed the woman to turn around so he could get a look at her face. Her skirt flowed around her mid thighs and her coat was pulled tight around her petite waist, the fur filled collar covering most of her neck. As he watched them walk towards their car, the woman eventually turned her head, allowing him to get a look at her. He finally let go of the breath that he hadn't realised he'd been holding. Its not her. His heart finally stopped racing and he took another long drag of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground, watching the couple as their car made its way out of the street. He watched intently as it came closer to him, his eyes never leaving the young woman sitting in the front seat, as if he was determined to prove to himself that it wasn't Grace sitting there. He willed her to look at him, knowing if there was any chance it was Grace, her reaction would give her away as soon as she saw him.

The woman gently lifted the hat from her head and placed it on her lap. She seemed agitated, her eyes were all around – at the man beside her in the car, on the house they had just left, on the road, at a woman with an infant walking down the street and then finally on him. She caught his eye as she passed by the house he was standing in front of. She looked at him curiously but he could see there was no recollection there. Its definitely not her. He shook his head, watching the car pass by him before finally lighting another cigarette. He threw his match to the ground just as the door opened behind him.

"Tommy, what are you still doing 'ere? You're gonna disturb my neighbours." The young woman tapped her foot impatiently.

"Ada. I think we've passed the point for that." Tommy kept staring ahead, not turning around to face her. "Who lives in that house up there?" He asked, pointing to the one the couple had just emerged from.

"No idea." Ada huffed, lighting her own cigarette, taking a deep breath in before gently exhaling, allowing the smoke to leave her lungs.

Tommy closed his eyes, irritated. "You need to know who is on your doorstep Ada."

"I think they've only just moved in." Ada shrugged, stamping her foot on her cigarette. "Anyway, you gonna tell me who you've pissed off now?"

Tommy turned to her, his eyes narrowed. Ada pointed to the fresh cut on the side of his face.

"Hit the bottle." He answered nonchalantly.

Ada scoffed. "Where did you boys go last night?"

"Eden Club." Tommy replied, his minimal answers indicating he didn't want to go into it any further.

"Sabini's place. What are you playin' at Tommy?"

Tommy ignored her. He turned back to her and grasped her hand, placing the notes against her palm.

"I don't need your money Tommy." Ada argued, trying to force it back towards him but Tommy was already walking away from the house. She grumbled to herself, irritated by her older brothers constant need to provide protection. She was perfectly capable of looking after herself. She had Karl to think about, she wasn't going to do anything stupid, despite what Aunt Pol thought. She watched him walk down the street until he was finally out of view before glancing around the street, her eyes landing on a familiar looking figure standing across the street, slightly hidden from view. Rolling her eyes, Ada walked back into the house, closing the door behind her. She wasn't overly surprised to find that Tommy had hired someone to keep an eye on her but god it irritated her.