Hi guys!

I've been fairly quiet throughout the posting of this fic and thought it was about time I said thank you for all the support I've received. Honestly, I never imagined this story getting so much attention but I am so happy with the reaction.

Now, this chapter is a little shorter but there's a lot of focus on Elsie's background and their developing feelings. This is also when things really start to kick off for the Blinders so I didn't want to go too overboard.

Please, please, please leave me some reviews, whether they're good or bad, feedback is always helpful for me and once again, thank you so much for the love you've already shown this fic!

~ crownedinvictoryx

Days passed by slowly, dragging past with what felt like a deliberate laziness. Work was as monotonous as always and so offered no escape from the waiting game Elsie had come to realise she was playing. After the night they had spent together, with the very real promise, this time, that they would see each other again, it seemed that Tommy had completely disappeared. Through the grapevine, she had heard that he was in London on business and by the grapevine, she simply meant that Arthur had given away his brother's whereabouts during a visit to the Garrison. It was unsurprising of course, that in his line of business, he would be required to travel - he seemed a very ambitious man who no doubt had business on his mind at all times and in all locations. However, she was a little disappointed that he hadn't had the decency himself to inform her of his travels and had instead left her with nothing more than confused silence. Still, she supposed he had some logical reason for keeping quiet, other than the fact they were still no more than strangers to each other. Sex could not change the reality of their situation, which was that, other than their names and their professions, they knew nothing about each other. Determination crossed her mind then and she decided that the very next time she should spend any time with Tommy Shelby, she would make a conscious effort to get to know the man behind the stories. Although for now, she had work to go to. In the past few days, there was one particular patient in her ward who was not expected to survive the week and so, Elsie had decided to pick up some flowers on her way to the hospital. As she stood in the market, studying the vast array of colourful flowers to choose from, some laying loose and some already arranged in bouquets, she was surprised to hear the voice she had so desperately wanted to hear for days.

"And here I was under the illusion that women waited for men to buy them flowers."

Afraid of reacting too quickly, she simply turned her eyes upwards to meet his but he was otherwise occupied by the flower stall before them, his cool blue eyes flicking across the colours as though he were looking for one very precise flower in particular. There was a look of lazy concentration coupled with mild curiosity held on his features and he maintained this look for a good few minutes more in the silence before he finally turned to meet her eyes.

"D'you like flowers?" he asked plainly.

"They're not for me." she responded softly, turning her eyes back to the stall.

"Then who might they be for?" he asked from beside her.

"One of my patients. She's an older woman," a pause as she reached out to pick up a white lily, "and the doctor doesn't expect her to see out the week," another pause as she picked up a pink rose, "so I thought I would take her some flowers, if for no reason other than to brighten up her room a little."

As she concluded her brief explanation, she turned her eyes back towards him to find that he was still focused intently on her, a smile hiding in his eyes despite his blank expression. Elsie was slowly learning that any emotional reaction from Tommy was conveyed through his eyes. Feeling a little awkward under his gaze, she raised the flowers she had picked up so that they settled right in front of him, as a way of silently asking for his opinion. Reaching up, he took the lily from her hand, his fingertips brushing against her knuckles as he did so before setting it back in place on the stall. When he turned back to her, he nodded lightly towards the rose she now held close to her chest.

"Buy the roses. Lillies are for funerals and that would be rude."

Laughing at the logic of his decision, Elsie turned back to the stall, picking out five more pink roses before handing them over to be wrapped into a bouquet. As she waited, she turned back to Tommy, who was now focused once more on the flowers.

"I like daffodils." she confessed, and he turned to her with a questioning expression.

"You asked if I liked flowers," she reminded him. "I like daffodils, they're my favourite. If not daffodils, any flower that's purple, particularly sweetpeas."

"I see," he nodded absently. "Why purple?" he then asked.

"It's my favourite colour."

Before he could respond, Elsie turned her attention back towards the stall just in time to receive the now beautifully wrapped roses. Holding the bouquet in one hand, she used her free hand to pull money from her coat pocket, handing it over with a smile and polite thanks. Resting the flowers in the crook of her arm, she turned back to Tommy.

"Are you particularly busy?" she asked him.

"No." was all he replied.

"Well then, would you like to walk with me on my way to work?"

A very slight smile crossed his lips and with a roll of his eyes, he turned in the direction of the hospital, glancing back at her expectantly. With a smile of her own, she fell into step beside him as they made their way through the rest of the market.

Winter had brought with it a darkness that descended upon the city without warning and a chill that could rattle the very bones of man. For this reason, Tommy had always hated the winter season - he supposed that was the gypsy in him as better weather made for much more comfortable travels. However, when the harshness of winter began to settle into the streets of Birmingham, it became much easier to take care of the more illegal aspects of business as the cloak of darkness kept prying eyes at bay. For this reason, he had always loved the winter season as the quick completion of business allowed him home at a reasonable hour. Yet, strangely enough, as he had made his way back through the market on his way home, he had come to a stop once more by the flower stall and, without really knowing why, had picked out a rather random selection of every purple flower he could find, and had them tied with purple ribbon. Afterwards, he had not gone home but rather, he had turned and made his way towards the little flat where he knew he would find her, and knocked upon her door. When she answered, she still wore her nurse's uniform, the white of it dulled by awkward little splats of blood and God only knew what else she'd attracted during the day at work. Half way through removing that stupid hat he hated so much, she had held hair pins in both hands and several between her teeth, struggling with those still tangled in her hair. Upon noticing the flowers, her eyes had widened and the pins fell from between her teeth as she gasped, clearly delighted. It had taken a moment or two before laughter overcame her and she allowed him entrance to her home. Now, Elsie busied herself behind him, organising the flowers in a large jar whilst he poured himself a glass of her vodka.

"These are beautiful." she murmured.

Catching his attention, Tommy turned so that he could face her but she was still focused on the flowers. Safe to assume she was pleased with his little gift, albeit unplanned as it was. When she eventually did turn to face him, he couldn't help but feel pride swell in his chest at the sight of her wide smile. Having removed the rest of the pins from her hair, the dark waves fell loosely down her back with the odd few, shorter strands which were not quite long enough to be caught behind her back settling across her shoulders, even shorter strands framing her face. Those dusty grey eyes were unforgivingly bright in the dim light of the room as she met his gaze and he couldn't help but think the flowers pathetic in comparison to Elsie. Moving slowly, he crossed the room and settled into what had quickly become his usual seat on her couch. When he was seated, he set his glass on her cluttered coffee table before leaning back to extend a hand to her which she took immediately, allowing him to pull her into the seat beside him.

"So," he began, moving to pick up his glass once more, "what's your book about?" he asked, glancing briefly towards the novel she had been reading the first time he'd visited.

"Oh, uhm, it's a love story, I suppose." she answered, leaning forward to pick up the book.

"I thought you said it was the saddest story ever told?" he asked, not missing the surprise in her eyes as she met his own.

"Well, yes, it is. Not every love story has a happy ending, Mr. Shelby. This book is more about how we manipulate love to get what we want, and how love manipulates us and how easily we let it." she explained, seeming excited by his interest in the story.

"How depressing, why would you want to read a story like that?" he frowned, setting down his glass before taking the book from her hands and flicking it open.

"It's the only story I've ever read." she responded with a soft laugh.

"You haven't read any other books?" he turned his eyes back to meet her's.

"No. I uhm, well, I only learned how to read when I got the nursing job during the war."

Tommy noticed the way she dropped her eyes from his at her confession, the awkward pink colour returning to her cheeks. It seemed she was embarrased by this little fact about herself, not that he understood why. Finn couldn't read, at least not very well, nor did he want to learn, no matter how many times Pol tried to force him into it. There was no shame in it, although it seemed Elsie felt differently.

"And this is the book you chose to read for the rest of your life? I'd consider that the much more shameful of the two." he spoke, his tone playfully sarcastic as he attempted to distract her from her embarrassment.

As her eyes raised once again to meet his, a gleam of amusement hiding in the grey, he was caught off guard by her speed as she grasped hold of his shirt and pulled him in, connecting their lips. Maintaining his surprise for only a few seconds more, he abandoned the book on the couch between them, moving his hands to take hold of her waist. Pulling her a little closer, he marvelled at how small she felt pressed against him and it sparked a protectiveness in him that he hadn't felt in a very long time. It was safe to say he liked this girl, or at least, he was beginning to.

"What was that for?" he asked when they eventually separated.

"For not just assuming that I'm," a pause as she shrugged her shoulders, "stupid, I suppose."

"Are you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he teased her.

"No," she laughed, pushing at his shoulder, "I just didn't go to school. My dad died when I was very young and my mother was too ill to work most of the time. I looked after her and my brother worked to keep the roof over our heads. Then I met Anthony and he was lovely, and he helped look after my mother, and we got engaged."

As her story continued, it became apparent that she talking more to herself now than to him, a sadness creeping into her tone that Tommy decided he didn't like. With her eyes now focused intently on her lap where her hands were fidgeting restlessly, he sat up a little straighter and moved a little closer to her.

"About two weeks before he enlisted, I found out I was pregnant. I knew if I told him the truth, he would never go to war and that would get him in trouble so I kept it a secret. When I found out he'd been killed, I don't really remember what happened but when I woke up I was in hospital. I lost the baby, they told me. The stress of what happened, they said."

Silence settled over the whole room as she grew quiet, trailing off. A feeling of sorrow washed over him and he couldn't help but think that perhaps Elsie's story was the saddest story ever told. Although her eyes were still trained on her hands, which were now still but shaking, he could tell she was crying. There was nothing he could say that would ease her pain, it was a pain she had lived with for much too long and yet, he wanted to try. Tommy wanted nothing more than to take away that pain because girls like her, so kind and caring and genuine, did not deserve to suffer in the way she had. Slowly, carefully, he took hold of her shaking hands but she reacted quickly, pulling her hands away from him, tossing her head back and swiping away her tears with a humourless laugh.

"I'm sorry," she spoke, her voice broken with a kind of sadness he had never heard before. "I don't know why I told you that, I really shou- "

"I'm sorry, Elsie." he interrupted her, not knowing what else to say.

Eventually, she let her eyes meet his and he could see there just how damaged she was. Having been a soldier, he knew that the war had damaged everyone in some way, himself included but it had never occured to him that soldiers like himself were not the only ones quite so severely damaged; they weren't the only ones who had experienced horrors from which they would never recover. He supposed that, although the pain she felt was different from his own, it was no less heavy to carry. Once more moving slowly, Tommy slipped one arm around her waist and the other beneath her thighs, lifting and pulling her gently to settle on his lap and almost instantly, he felt her body melt into his, one hand placed on his ribs and the other against his chest, her face burying into the crook of his neck whilst he kept one arm wrapped around her waist, stroking his free hand through her long hair in an attempt to soothe her. They stayed like that for a good fifteen to twenty minutes, in silence, Elsie content to be just held and him content to just hold her, before she pulled back from him, meeting his eyes with a tired expression.

"How about we get you to bed?" he asked, surprised by the gentleness of his own voice.

"I'd like that." she whispered.

Raincloud eyes drifting closed, Tommy allowed her to lean back against him before he moved, taking hold of her by her waist and her thighs once more as he stood, lifting her with him. For a fully grown woman, she was light as a feather and he found himself marvelling again at how small she felt pressed against him. Only when she had slipped both arms around his shoulders, holding herself tight to him, did he take her to bed, his protective streak encouraging him to stay the night.

Embarrassed was too weak a word to accurately describe how Elsie felt. Why on earth she had told him about her past like that, she couldn't understand. After all, he was nothing more than a stranger, really; not to mention an ex-soldier and so it was highly likely that her traumatic past didn't even compare to the things he'd seen in France. Yet, he stayed. All through the night, he lay in bed with her, holding her close and playing with her hair, trailing his fingertips across as much of her skin as he could reach, whispering quiet and comforting words whenever he noticed she had started to cry again. Truthfully, that night had been the first time that she'd finally felt the pain of her past begin to ease even just a little and she couldn't help but feel that maybe Tommy had something to do with that. It was slowly becoming clear to her that there was a lot more to Thomas Shelby than just his reputation as Birmingham's biggest crime boss. That was why, she supposed, when he knocked on her door and asked her, with no explanation as to why he needed her, to accompany him to his office, she had gone without question. It wasn't until she saw the blood stains on Arthur's clothes and the shaking of his hands that she understood why she was needed. This was illegal business and it seemed, whatever the aim, the Peaky Blinders had been the target. Of course, Elsie knew better than to ask questions regarding illegal business and so she had simply given Tommy his orders before settling down to clean up Arthur's hands.

"Your knuckles are burst wide open on this hand, Arthur." she spoke tentatively, having cleaned away the blood to better assess his injuries.

"I'd like to put in a few little stitches, if that's alright with you?" she asked, turning her eyes up to meet his.

Rather than reply, he slumped a little further into his chair and turned his head so that he could focus his eyes on the fire beside him. Not wanting to continue without his permission, she turned her eyes to Tommy and kinked an eyebrow, silently asking for his permission instead. A sharp nod was the only response she received but it was all she needed and for the next twenty minutes, she worked in silence, stitching the skin of Arthur's knuckles back together. Only when she was done and had set her needle aside did he turn back to meet her eyes and although he said nothing, there was thanks in his eyes. Their stare only lasted a few seconds before he turned away again, resuming his previous position. It was unusual to see him so quiet and it was clear that whatever had happened was playing heavily on his mind. With a soft sigh, she moved to press a light kiss to his cheek before getting to her feet.

"John, look after him."

Tommy's voice was filled his usual commanding tone but there was the slightest hint of worry present as well. As soon as he spoke, he turned and left the room, his heavy footsteps fading as he moved further away. Whether or not it had been intentional, he had left the door open behind him and so, albeit hesitantly, Elsie crossed the room to follow him. The betting shop was not particularly big and so it was easy enough to find him hidden away in his own office, sitting at his desk with a cigarette perched between his lips and a glass of whisky in his hand. Even as she entered, he kept his eyes trained on the glass, swirling its contents.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently.

For the briefest second, his eyes flicked up to meet her's before returning to his glass. No answer came from him but she did not miss the way he clenched his jaw, something he only ever did when he had something to say but was fighting against it. So as not to provoke him, she moved slowly, crossing the office floor and rounding the desk to stand beside him, leaning against the wood. Still, he did not move.

"Are you angry?" she asked, focusing her eyes on his stony facial expression.

Once again, he raised his eyes to meet her's but this time he did not look away, instead snubbing out his half-smoked cigarette and reaching for her. Elsie allowed him to take hold of her hand, moving with him as he lead her to sit on his lap. As soon as she was seated, she slipped one arm around his shoulders, her free hand toying absently with the buttons on his suit jacket. Tommy sat with one arm resting across her thighs, his free hand beginning to tug at the pins in her hair, pulling them loose. They remained silent but maintained eye contact until he had finished and was brushing his fingers through the dark waves he had freed.

"I love your hair like this." he mused.

"It's not very practical, I was thinking about cutti- "

"Don't," he interrupted, pausing briefly before continuing, "don't ever cut your hair."

It was clear from his tone that his words were a command rather than a suggestion and she couldn't help the smile that took hold of her lips. Normally, the very thought of a man telling her what to do would piss her off but somehow, when it came to Tommy, she only ever found herself obeying him. Perhaps because it wasn't so much that he told her to do but instead made her feel that there was no need for her to change. Regardless, any thoughts she had previously had of cutting her hair evaporated immediately as he toyed aimlessly with the long strands.

"I'm not angry at Arthur." he spoke suddenly, turning his eyes away from her.

"Then why are you angry?" she asked, attempting to keep the curiosity out of her voice.

"You don't need to know that. All you need to know is that Arthur did nothing wrong today, alright?"

Although he phrased it as a question, Elsie knew it was more of a statement. Whatever Arthur had done, as far as Tommy was concerned, he had done nothing wrong and after a moment or two, she realised that she didn't really care about what he had done - just knowing that he was alright was all she needed to know. Of course, a darker part of her wanted to know more but common sense told her not to push her luck.

"Thank you, for taking care of him."

Rather than reply, she simply smiled at him and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. When she pulled back, he leaned forward to set his whisky glass on the desk before tapping his hand against her knee and pressing his free hand against the small of her back to help balance her as he pushed them both to stand.

"Come on," he spoke abruptly, reaching for his overcoat. "I'll walk you home."

At that, he moved toward her and Elsie stood perfectly still as he mimicked his actions from that night at the Garrison, pulling his coat around her shoulders, tugging it this way and that until he was content, with her watching him in amusement all the while. When he was finally satisfied, he let one hand rest on the small of her back once more and she allowed him to lead her back toward the door.