Chapter Nine: Bertie
"Night Harry."
"Mr. Shelby." Thomas turns towards Harry, who is making his way around the counter. Thomas frowns slightly, Harry doesn't normally approach him. Harry clears his throat nervously. "Mr. Shelby, after your argument with Kate."
"I don't want to hear it Harry." He snaps. "My business."
"It's just…is it your business when a lady takes half a bottle of whiskey from this establishment?"
Thomas frowns. "She drinks?"
"Apparently." Harry takes a step back. "I thought you should be aware of it. The lass is all alone here, someone should look after her."
Thomas nods and shrugs. "What she does at her own places is completely up to her. Goodnight."
With that, Thomas walks out of the building. He sets his cap back on his head and turns to head down the road towards home. However, something stops him. A horrible nagging feeling that if Kate is in that place, drunk, it's his fault. He'd pushed her too hard and now she was in there alone with a bottle of whiskey.
"F**k that woman." He mutters as he turns and stomps back to the restaurant. He didn't have a heart, so she was able to guilt him in the stomach. He hates it.
As he approaches, he can hear Kate singing, rather loudly from inside. He pushes the door open and enters. He can hear her, but he can't see her, so he flips on the lights, causing her to shriek and pop up from behind the counter. Yes, she's drunk all right. The stupidly, bright blue walls make him blink. She comes around from behind the counter, her eyes glazed.
"Wellll!" Kate trips but she manages to grab onto the counter for support. "If it isn't the great…Thomas Shelby." She hiccups, dropping her glass of whiskey. "Oh." She looks down at the broken glass, a slight pout on her face. "I'll get another glass!"
"No, no. you've had enough" Kate ignores him and stumbles back towards the kitchen. He groans and goes after her. "Kate! Get back here." he trumpets. Another glass shatters and she screams loudly. Thomas runs into the kitchen, drawing his gun. Kate looks up at him, her eyes wide. "I dropped the bottle!"
Thomas groans as he puts the gun away. "What's the matter with you?"
"You!" Kate slaps the wooden counter, causing him to exhale deeply. "God! Why did I ever have to bump into you?"
"You are drunk." He comes around the corner and grabs her elbow as she sways.
"Maybe." Kate laughs as he leads her around the glass. "You're swimming."
"Spinning." He states as he guides her out of the door, glancing down at the floor where the shattered glass is. "What made you decide to drink a whole bottle f**king whiskey?"
"You…drive me insane." She whines as she stumbles and he catches her around the waist. "God, you're strong."
"You should probably, stop talking now." Thomas says, trying not to notice how Kate's fingernails are digging into his lower waist. Well, they're sharp.
"You know, I luv me an accent?" she slurs. "Yours is fine."
"Shut up Kate."
She slaps his backside, hard enough to make him jump. "Don't tell me to shut up! God, why are you so difficult?" she catches a hold of the railing and pulls on it, nearly yanking him off balance. "You could be such a nice man," she hiccupped again. "if you tried."
"God, I'm going to kill harry for giving you a bottle." He pulls her hand free from the railing and half drags her up the stairs. "You should never drink."
Kate's only response is to giggle loudly. "Why don't you get married?" Thomas stumbles on the top step and goes down, taking Kate down with him. The stupid woman laughs giddily. "I bet Grace could make you happy again."
"Enough."
"You two look good." He sits up, pulling her up to her knees. "You're, a lonely man and you take it out on everyone. You need to be happy." She runs a finger along his mouth. "Someone should make you smile." She giggles. "You should smile!"
"Kate." Inwardly, he is smiling because this woman could almost be amusing when she's intoxicated.
"Maybe you need a kiss!" Kate crows, causing him to jump as she reaches for him. "That'll make you smile. Turn you into a prince instead of a….a whatever it is you are."
"Kate." Somehow, he's not sure how, Kate manages to drunkenly kisses him on the mouth. It's a brief kiss, but to his shock, there's something behind that kiss. She looks up at him, her expression innocent and he exhales deeply.
"Did I do it wrong?" Thomas laughs at Kate's confused expression. "Show me."
Thomas laughed. "No." Her arms make their way around his neck; he grabs her elbows, restraining her arms. "Come on, I'm putting you to bed." he's not one to take advantage of a drunk woman, even if she is throwing herself at him.
As he gets her to her feet, Kate's head darts forward and she kisses him firmly on the lips. The first thing that hits him is the taste of whiskey on her lips. The second is a bolt of lightning that seems to bring his heart back to life in his chest. Thomas releases her hands and her hands instantly go for his shoulders. Thomas hesitates, knowing she's drunk, but then he decides to just go for it.
Thomas pulls Kate against him and kisses her deeply. Kate responds with a moan. This is so odd, he can't understand it. He can't even stand her; the woman was an absolute menace. But damn she knew how to kiss, even when drunk!
Kate let out a moan and her hands slowly fall from his shoulders to her side. He breaks the kiss, just as Kate's head rolls back, her legs buckle and her hands droop. He barely has time to catch her before she falls to the ground
"Kate?" no answer. He gives her a quick shake, but nothing. Kate is unconscious and snoring. He laughs lightly as he pulls her up into his arms. "Well, I guess that's one way to shut you up."
Thomas hurries up the stairs and kicks a few doors open, looking for a bed to put her on. After going through all the doors, he finally finds a room with a bundle of blankets on the floor. Thomas stares at the sight for a moment. She's been here for almost a month and she still doesn't have a bed. He sighs as he kneels and sets her down on the blankets, carefully arranging them around her. He can't stop himself from brushing a strand of dark hair back from her face. Harry was right; she really was all alone here.
A banging at the door causes him to groan. He stands, closes the door to her room and hurries down the stairs. There's a crowd of men outside the front door. He opens it. "What?"
The man swallows. "Table and chair delivery, for a Kate?"
Thomas glances upstairs. Kate's unconscious and in no state for this. He sighs as he opens the door. ""Go in and set up." He orders. "Send one of your men back tomorrow to pick up the money. She's good for it." the men nod, fortunately, not daring to argue with him.
He wasn't sure what she'd remember tomorrow, but hopefully not that kiss. He didn't want anyone to start to get under his skin yet and she was dangerously close to getting to him. Besides, he had a date with Grace at the races tomorrow. She was really more his type, gentle and quiet. With Kate, he didn't know what was going to set her off and he'd dealt with enough explosions in the war. He was not going to get involved with her, no matter what. Grace is exactly what he wants.
But is she exactly what he needs?
Shariebery: Neither can I! Normally, I try to wait a bit, but this one was just too funny to leave on hold for a bit!
