A/N: had a few more glasses of wine than would normally be considered "appropriate" in order to edit this chapter. Let's just say, I liked it a lot more when I got done. Any errors you see are mine, but not entirely my fault. Some of it was the wine.

When Alfie pulled up to the house, he got out of the car and slammed the door. He didn't open Mabel's door as he usually did, he didn't wait for her to follow. He stalked through his entryway, turning on lights and pushing Peaches into the back garden unceremoniously. He left his hat, coat, and walking stick by the front door, then stormed into his office.

Mabel watched him, her hat and gloves clutched in her hands, her coat still on, and unsure of her footing. When he went into the office, still without looking at her, she released the breath she hadn't realised she was holding in a huff. "Damn you Alfie Solomons for being an arse just because you are frustrated. Well, I'm frustrated too, and I can play your silly game, but I refuse to because I am a bloody adult."

She'd expected the gun to be on the desktop, or in place of that, a large tumbler of alcohol. But Alfie had neither, just his hands steepled in front of his chin, an unreadable expression on his face. Mabel glared and settled in the chair in front of him. Alfie didn't move, just stared into her, with eyes so hard she thought they might cut.

"I met with Tommy because of Wilma," she blurted, then wished she'd started with the baby instead. Because it had been on her mind for a week, she hadn't seen Alfie in all that time, and it was the one thing she wanted him to hear from her lips. Instead, she'd clucked her annoyance at him, like a proper git.

She opened her mouth to say something else instead, when Alfie barked, "Why." But it wasn't a question. It was a demand.

Mabel frowned. "Well, I wanted to talk to you first, I tried to talk to you, I left a message-"

Alfie slammed a fist into his desk hard enough that Mabel jumped, her words ending in an undignified squeak.

"WHY." His voice was a disturbing amount of calm.

"Fine," Mabel gritted her teeth at him. "Wilma was spying on me and reporting to Tommy," Mabel spoke quickly, but more calmly than she felt. "She was also stealing from me. Tommy was paying her for the information, which I'm sure she was gladly accepting, but she was also being used by Billy Hill to get information on Tommy. I went to tell him that, and also to tell him he didn't need to pay anyone for information on me, since I wasn't his enemy."

"How very generous of you," Alfie commented, and there was genuine heat in his voice. Mabel blinked at him, then looked down when she noticed her fingers shaking. Curious. She felt a surge of exhaustion wash over her and she wanted this to be over, to get back to where they worked so well together. She was tired of the distinct lack of Alfie in her life, it was colourless. It would be such a relief to climb in Alfie's lap and kiss away the angry frown between his eyebrows. He looked awful, like he hadn't slept or eaten.

"And how do you know all of this?" Alfie continued, not quite glaring at her.

"Well," Mabel started slower, looking at the desk, "I figured out she was spying on me after you said Tommy told you I was pregnant." She glanced up at him, then back down, clenching her fingers in her lap. The impersonal look in his eyes was almost unbearable. "She was the only one besides Rowena that could have passed on something like that, and I don't think Rowena would do that. So I started thinking. I checked the books at the bakery, but she was shorting orders or cancelling them altogether and pocketing the money. She knew I always reviewed the books, but she'd taken over walking the floor, so she knew she wouldn't get caught unless it was slow enough that the crew could talk to me, or if I was bored enough that I went to talk to them. So she made sure the crew was plenty busy and tried to be my friend." Mabel made sure her voice didn't shake, but she thought Alfie might know her well enough anyway to see how much that had hurt her.

Mabel barreled on. "She took me dancing, and even though she didn't give me the drink, she definitely made sure I had one. The more I think about it, the cleverer I realise it was, and what a good little actress she really is." Here, Mabel met Alfie's eyes. "Something she said, something about the way she talked that night, and I realised she was in on it, whoever gave me the drink."

Alfie said nothing, his face giving away nothing.

"That club is owned by Billy Hill, isn't it?" she asked, her voice hard.

At Alfie's nod, she relaxed a little. "That's what I thought. She needed me to be distracted or out of the picture. Billy needed you to be distracted or out of the picture. They thought they could kill two birds with one stone by poisoning me." Mabel shook her head at Alfie's fists tightening on his desk, but her eyes slipped closed briefly. Whatever happened here tonight, Alfie was still Alfie, who got outraged on her behalf. She pushed aside sentiment and ploughed ahead. "When I didn't drink enough for it to be lethal, Wilma planted in my head that I might be pregnant, and then spread the rumour that I was."

Mabel licked her lips, her fingers pinching the fabric of her skirt nervously. "Alfie, before I go any further, you should know that Wilma and I spent a lot of time together... talking." A muscle in Alfie's jaw flexed.

"About... ?" Alfie prompted, his voice gravelly from disuse.

"You, mostly," Mabel answered, her voice low. "I mean," she hastened when he stiffened, "she talked about her husband Danny and I was just talking about you too, the way women do, and I was extremely careful at first, but toward the end, I might have been... less so. I didn't say your name, but it's not exactly a secret it was you..." she cringed at her own stupidity, not quite able to meet Alfie's eyes. "I think she was giving the information to Billy Hill, and he was... maybe more aware of your activities than he would have been otherwise." God, just shoot her now. The way Alfie was looking at her was fucking murder anyway.

A long silence stretched between them, and Mabel sat there feeling very stupid and vulnerable, not daring to say another word until Alfie had processed that.

Finally, Alfie breached the gulf and asked, "And how do you know she was spying on Tommy too?"

"Oh, I don't know that for sure. I just figured it was true, then spread the rumour that she was."

And it might have been wishful thinking, but Mabel was sure she saw Alfie's lips twitch at that, before settling into a grim line.

"Mabel," Alfie started, and Mabel frowned, readying herself for battle. He would yell, and rant, and rave at her, and she would yell right back because that's what they did. They pushed each other and pulled each other, and respected each other. But Alfie set his hands on the desk softly and looked at her.

"You can't be here anymore, you have to go away. We can't be together anymore."

Mabel felt the blood drain from her face. "Wait... what?" Her mouth dropped open because her body's natural response to most scenarios was to spew words, but nothing came out. She stared at Alfie's lips, which were moving like he was speaking, but the only thing she could hear was GOAWAY over and over again. The roaring in her ears drowned out all sound and thought, and she tried to focus on Alfie's lips.

… safe...

… Camden…

… parents…

… sorry.

It was the "sorry" that turned the sound back on. She'd never known Alfie to apologise, ever, and now she'd missed it because she was gaping at him like a fish.

"Wait… what?" Mabel finally croaked, blinking. "Go away? You're sorry?! You're dropping me, just like that? Because I had a meeting with Tommy Shelby?" Mabel stood, her heart beating too fast and her sweaty palms bunching at her sides. "Well fuck you very much, Alfie Solomons! I mean, what the hell!?" She glared with all her might, fury and nausea rolling through her in equal amounts. She hung on to her anger with both hands, because if she didn't, she feared she may crumple into a ball and sob.

"No," Alfie said. His voice was harsh and Mabel's spine stiffened. "This isn't about Tommy Shelby, I'm not going to discuss that with you. Even though you should bloody talk to me about things like that!" Alfie's fists tightened, his rings standing out in sharp relief. The silence left after his outburst was deafening.

Mabel huffed air out her nose and managed not to roll her eyes at the most deadly gangster in London. "Again. I tried to talk to you first. But it doesn't matter because I would have bloody told you about it. Like I just did. No yelling match needed."

Alfie scowled at her, his jaw clenching. Mabel scowled back.

"No. This isn't how this is supposed to go. I was going to fix this, not make it worse." Mabel took a breath and tried to steady herself. She put her hands on her hips and stared at the floor.

"So if this isn't about Tommy Shelby, then, I admit, Wilma was a mistake. But I was trying to fix it." She didn't dare look at him, she had no idea what her face was doing. When she came in she had been frustrated, and anxious and a tiny bit ashamed, but now she could only focus on either mending this or self-preservation. There was no middle ground.

"But… but what if he's right?" her traitorous head whispered. Mabel had put him in danger, she had fucked up his business and her own, and anyone else would have been fed a bullet already.

"I…" she started, pausing to work past the clench of her heart. She knew it was earned, but the cold stare he was pointing at her was physically painful.

His angry growl stopped her for a moment, but his hand reaching across the desk froze her in place. "Mabel, this isn't about Wilma." His hand lay open, his palm up, and she wasn't sure what he was doing. She just looked at it, confused.

"This is about the baby." He seemed to pause to collect himself, but she couldn't stop staring at his damnable hand, sitting there open, expectant, waiting patiently. Everything that Alfie was not. "I'm trying to do what's best for you both. It's safer for you outside of Camden. You could live with your parents, or if you don't want to do that, I can pay for you to stay wherever you want until the baby's born."

She switched her eyes from his hand to his face, and to her surprise, there was no anger there. His brow was furrowed, his face gaunt and drawn, but in truth, he looked like she felt. She felt a relief sweeter than any she'd known flood her bones.

"Oh, Alfie," she said, thumping into her seat again and reaching forward to take his hand. His thick fingers curled around hers, the same possessiveness that had always been there between them, and it warmed her. "There's no baby."

The reaction in Alfie was immediate. He jerked back from her like he'd been burned, hurt and horror and betrayal on his face. Then, faster than she could track, he schooled his features once more, his lips pursed, and he cleared his throat.

"Ah," he stated, then cleared his throat again, scowling at the desk. "Well, I mean, that's what I had said, so I understand that you... changed your mind about keeping it, but I just didn't realise that it could be done so soon, so I wasn't expecting-"

"Alfie," Mabel interrupted, "no, no, no, I mean there never was a baby. I was never pregnant." She watched a new flood of emotions cross Alfie's face, and she couldn't catalogue them all, but she thought she saw disappointment in there. "Did you... do you want a baby?" she asked, her voice tentative, confused.

Alfie frowned at her. "No, I... No, Mabel, I don't." It was said roughly like he was defending himself.

"Okay then. Neither do I."

Alfie's frown stayed in place. "Okay then."

"Okay."

They sat for a moment, blinking at each other, before Mabel asked, "Wait… wait a damn minute, you were going to send me away because I was pregnant with your child?"

Alfie blinked, frowned, then glared. "I was doing what was best for you. I was protecting our baby from all of this." He gestured vaguely to the office, the city, the world he lived in. Mabel glared right back.

"So if you do actually manage to get me pregnant some day, this is what I can expect? To be treated like garbage, put out on the kerb, and hope someone else picks me up?"

"No! 'Course not!" Alfie said, pushing a frustrated hand through his hair. "You pose a threat, but I'm trying to make it so you can defend yourself. You do remember how to shoot, right?"

Alfie got a sneer in response and almost a pistol in his face, but she decided at the last second that was not "mending things" and held off.

"Well, a baby can't defend itself, so I was doing it. This is no life for a child. Ever. So, yeah, if you get knocked up, plan on it. Plan on going somewhere safe, so I can keep you safe, so your child can grow up in a relatively normal household."

For a moment, Mabel didn't say anything, and Alfie sat in the tentative silence.

"Our child," Mabel said softly, her eyes never leaving his.

Alfie cocked his head, clearly confused. "What?"

"You said, 'your child'," Mabel said. "It would be our child." She met his eyes, determination in every line of her body. "If I were pregnant, it would be our child. You don't just get to push your responsibilities into another town and forget about them."

"I never said I was…" Alfie exploded, then fisted his hand into his hair again. "There IS no child!" he said. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I want to know!" Mabel yelled right back. "Because I want to know that if the "worst" thing imaginable for you actually happened, what would the fierce and terrible Alfie Solomons do about it? Huh?"

"Is that why you perpetrated this for as long as you did?" Alfie said. "You thought, "hey, what fun, let's toy with Alfie and see what he does"? And what did you decide? Hmm? Did I pass your little test?"

Mabel bristled even more. "I wasn't testing you, you selfish wanker, YOU NEVER EVEN ASKED ME!" She wished, for a moment, that she didn't have to raise her voice, that Alfie would listen and understand, and she could be the dutiful, good, wholesome woman her mother wanted her to be. Then she listened as Alfie hit the ceiling and knew she would only ever be as good as she gave. But boy, could she give it.

Alfie fumed. "Who the hell do you think you are that I need to ask you things like, "Oh, hey, Ms Ziemann, by the by, word on the street is that you're carrying my child, care to comment on that?"

Mabel fumed right back. "How about, "Hey, Mabel, executive of my branch of business and trusted college, I heard a disturbing rumour about you, but because I know you wouldn't lie to me I decided to find out from you if it's true before I jump to conclusions."

"Well who the hell talks like that?" Alfie yelled, his face red.

"Well obviously not you, you git!" Mabel yelled.

And with that, Alfie sat back, his own mouth hanging open. He blinked a few times before his lips settled into a twitch, and then he busted into a genuine grin.

Mabel was still breathing hard, so it took her a second to recognise Alfie's smile for what it was. When she finally realised, he had moved on to chuckling, and by the time he got to laughing, full-out, belly laughs, and they were contagious as hell.

Mabel couldn't help it. She felt her lips morph into a smile without her say-so, and before she knew it, she was laughing along with him. They both had tears in their eyes when they finally wound down, Mabel shaking her head at herself, at Alfie, at the whole damned situation.

"What are we doing here, Alfie?"

He just looked at her, his eyes fond and his mouth still smiling. "I don't know, Mabe."

"I missed you so damn much, I don't want to fight with you."

"Me either," Alfie admitted, his eyes crinkling with warmth, and Mabel leant forward, her hand extended over the desktop.

"Hey," she said as Alfie took her hand, "who ever said I wanted a normal household?"

Alfie sobered somewhat, his eyes searching hers. "Don't you?"

Mabel fought down a smile. "Alfie, I didn't actually think I'd need to say this, but I want you." She squeezed his fingers. "And all the things that go with that, good and bad."

The humour dropped from his face, even though he left his hand where it was. "There's more bad than good, love. What if it happens for real?"

"Then we'll deal with it together," Mabel said simply. "We are a good team. We balance each other, I think." She waited for Alfie's faint nod, before continuing. "If that ever happened, I'd hope we'd sit down and talk about what we really want, whatever that is, at that time." She shrugged and gave him a small smile. "I'm not sure I'll ever want children, to be honest, but things change. I've changed, since I met you." She squeezed his hand again. "And I like it." She smiled at him, warm and genuine. His eyes met hers, and she saw something there that she wasn't sure she'd ever seen on Alfie's face before. Hope.

"Alfie?" she asked.

"Yeah," he rasped. "Yeah, I want that too." He scraped his nails on his free hand over his beard, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Alfie?"

When he met her eyes, she leant forward. "I'm going to kiss you now, and we can work out the rest later. Okay?"

His brow crinkled, but he licked his lips. "Mmph. Yeah, okay."

"Okay," Mabel said as she moved around the desk. Alfie looked dazed, and when she reached for his hand, he gave it over easily. She grasped it, bigger and stronger than her own, running her thumb over the back, then turning it over. Mabel traced his square fingers with her own before she pressed a kiss to the centre of his palm. She curled his fingers into a fist and raised it to rest next to his heart, and then leant forward and kissed him, just the barest brush of lips, soft and slow and quiet.

Mabel felt his soft exhale more than she heard it, but her chest clenched at the way it shuddered out, like he'd been holding it for far too long. She knew how that felt, and she moved to smooth kisses over his cheeks, his forehead, and his nose. When she reached his mouth again, he pulled back abruptly, and she blinked at him in surprise.

Alfie gazed at her intently, taking her by the chin and drawing her in. She expected him to kiss her properly, but instead, she found his shaggy head tucked under her jaw, his hand cupping her cheek. His breath tickled as he breathed out, but she smiled. She stroked his back, slowly, down his arms and back up. She had missed him so. She had missed his warmth and his presence, his voice and his touches, and it seemed she wasn't the only one. Slowly, she dropped to her knee in front of him, his ancient chair creaking as he leant back.

"Alfie," she murmured, her voice soft. "Let me take care of you."

He said nothing, but his bright eyes watched her as she ran her hands over his chest, and pushed his shirt front up. When her fingers rested at the top button of his trousers, his eyes fluttered shut and Mabel watched him swallow, hard.

She caught her smile with her teeth and began to unfasten him. Button by button, she shifted cloth out of the way until she reached bare flesh. She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears and her mouth watered as she drew him out, loving the soft velvet of his skin and the heady musk of his scent. She started with the lightest of touches, skimming her fingers over his length and listening for the hitch in his breath. Then she swept her lips over him, dropping kisses and then tiny licks up and down him. When she finally fitted her lips over the crown, Alfie groaned deep in his chest and shifted. He slid down in his chair, giving her better access and spread his knees further.

Mabel met his eyes from her position on the floor and liked the heat she saw there. He watched her, his mouth open slightly, his breath coming faster as she opened her lips, little by little, keeping her tongue flat and taking in more and more of him. She rounded out her throat, sliding him just that little bit further, making her eyes water and making Alfie curse as he curled his fingers into her arms.

"Fuck," he breathed, "you are so perfect. That feels amazing."

Mabel pulled back, sucking in air and using her hand to spread the saliva over his length and when she started again, she used her hand to meet her mouth, adding a twist that made Alfie's hips buck up unintentionally. Soft curses rained down every time she switched her technique, fast to slow, deep to shallow, licks to sucks. When she pulled off completely to blow a thin stream of cool air over him, Alfie lost his mind.

"Holy God damn Mabe, you're fucking killing me," he groaned, his voice low and gravelly. Hearing his voice like that made Mabel throb and she looked up at him through her lashes. He was beautiful. He'd had one hand buried in his hair, pulling the strands until they stuck up from his head, his lip was bitten until it was swollen, his panting breath harsh in the otherwise still house. Mabel fixed him with a particularly heated look, and drew one last lick, from base to tip, drawing out a sound from Alfie she would add to her personal favourites. Then she got to work, setting up a rhythm that was brutal and unrelenting, even as Alfie came undone above her.

"God, yes..."

"Just like... ah... so good..."

"Mabe... I'm not... it's been too long..."

"Mabe..."

She slid her fist up and down his shaft, meeting her mouth and pumping him closer and closer to the edge.

"God... MABE!"

At that, she slid her hand inside his trousers to cup his bollocks as she swallowed him down until he hit the back of her throat. And then she moaned.

"Ah FUCK!" Alfie shouted at the same time the warm liquid burst across her tongue. Alfie scrambled back, still pulsing, and a final stripe landed across her cheek.

"Oh, God, Mabe... I'm... I didn't mean to make you..."

But he broke off as Mabel nudged forward, fastening her lips around him and licking him clean. When it got to be too much, he pressed on her shoulder until she leant away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes smiling at him.

"You didn't make me do anything."

Her voice was wrecked, but Alfie's eyes were wide with wonder as he leant toward her, cupping her face in his hands. He pressed an out of breath kiss to her lips and then swiped his thumb over her cheek, showing it to her before wiping it on his trouser leg. Alfie flopped, boneless, back in his chair, and said, "That was a good look on you. You should wear me more often."

"Why, Alfie Solomons!" Mabel said, grinning. "How dare you say such a thing. I am a lady." Then she tucked him away and stood, brushing the knee prints out of her skirt.

Alfie snorted, smirking. He accepted her hand up, leaning heavily on her as she groaned and made a big show of hauling him down the hall.

"Ugh, why are you so... oof! ... bloody heavy?"

"Most of it's in my trousers, love," Alfie murmured sleepily.

Mabel's lips twitched as she shifted his weight. "Well, can you lean forward then so you can prop yourself up while I let the dog in?"

"Mmph," he grunted, but she could hear his smile hidden behind his beard.

She ducked from underneath his arm and opened the door to the back garden, where Peaches was waiting not-so-patiently. She jumped and twirled and almost knocked Mabel down in her excitement, her tail thumping against everything.

"Hey, girl! Did you... oof! ... miss me?" Mabel caught her paws as Peaches tried to lick her hands, wrists, anything she could reach. "Goodness, what is it with you two, trying to knock me down? Yes, yes, I missed you too," Mabel muttered, scratching and petting the dog, who could scarcely contain herself. When she stood, she caught Alfie leaning against the wall and looking at her with an odd look on his face. "What?"

Alfie just shook his head and leant forward to grasp her elbow. "Come to bed."

"Yeah, alright," she said in mock exasperation, "I don't know what you think I was doing..."

Alfie was almost able to hide his smile, but he couldn't stop watching her. Later, she felt his eyes on her as she undressed for bed, and she stretched, loving the power his gaze lent her. When they were both under the heavy duvet, Alfie pulled her toward him, curving around behind her and taking deep breaths of her hair.

He would eventually roll away, or she would get too warm and slide to the cool section of the sheets, but that was okay. For now, it felt perfect. She whispered goodnight and he grunted, and as his breathing evened out and his arm around her waist got looser and heavier, she gave in, and let it bloom in her chest. Hope. Her head got muzzier, and even though she wanted the moment to last, just before she fell asleep in Alfie's arms, she thought, "This. This is the moment I want to live in forever."