Prompt: (AU). Tommy keeps receiving Grace's letters. Unsure of what to do, he comes to Lucia's new home hoping to find what he wants the most. Inspired by "Another Love" by Tom Odell. Mid-Season 2.

When he heard the news, he hardly believed it. In fact, he didn't believe it at all. No stock could be put into rumors. But as time moved by, Grace's letters arrived and were promptly burned into the nearest ashtray. Tommy longed for a simpler time. A simpler love. Only now, he put more stock into word of mouth and the risk of rumors being true began to haunt him.

After much cajoling, Polly finally wrote down the street and house number. "Don't go sticking your nose into that poor girl's life, Thomas," she'd warned before Tommy snatched the slip of paper. "You won't like what you find."

"I'll find what I find," Tommy remarked, shoving the paper into his pocket and rattling his car keys.

Determined to learn the truth for himself, Tommy Shelby drove to the Winson Green neighborhood northwest of the central city. It wasn't a long drive. Only half an hour despite the crowded streets. He was surprised how close she had been all these years.

The door was red. Its knob was worn from frequent coming ins and coming outs. She was behind there. Would she be at the sink when he knocked? Would her hands be folding laundry? Would she be laying in bed?

Tommy was frozen on the sidewalk. He wondered if he should turn around and return from whence he came. You won't like what you find , Polly had said in warning but Tommy took it as a challenge.

He knocked.

A moment that felt like forever passed as he waited for that worn doorknob to turn. Neighbors eyed him brazenly across the way, but Tommy turned his attention back and forced his legs to remain still though his heart raced.

Above his head, a window slid open and he lifted his face upward. A head popped out.

"Thomas fuckin' Shelby?" she called. "Give me a moment, I'll be right down."

He heard the rumble of her rapid steps coming down the stairs. The doorknob turned. Cool air and sweet fragrances rushed against his face as Lucia pulled the door open to him.

"Is everyone alright? Nothing bad's happened?" She ushered him inside and led him into the kitchen.

Tommy pulled the peaky cap from his skull and used his palms to smooth down any ruffled hair. The hall was neat, orderly. There were no pictures on the wall or very much decoration. It was practically empty compared to the crowded shelves and mantels in the Shelby household. "No, everyone's fine."

"That's a relief," she sighed by the table. "I just assumed since you appeared out of nowhere after all these years."

Tommy caught a glimpse of the wedding ring. She wasn't trying to hide it behind her back or in the folds of her skirt. It just sat on her finger, comfortably forgotten. Like she was used to the way it fit on her left hand as she went about her day cooking, doing dishes, selecting apples at the market.

"So, it's true."

Lucia shrugged. She wasn't following. "What's true?"

"You're married."

Her mouth formed an 'oh' that her voice couldn't carry. She nodded. "Yes, it's true."

Tommy nodded over and over, trying to face the truth of it, and took a seat at the table. A cigarette was carelessly selected and lit by a lucifer match. The case clattered onto the table top. "What's his name?" Smoke yawned from his mouth.

Lucia sat in the nearest seat. "Nicolò."

"Sicilian?"

She nodded.

Tommy scoffed, expecting as much. "And your parents approved? Your brothers?"

"They didn't disapprove. He's very kind, Tommy."

"So what do I call you now? What's your new name?" Bitterness was forming at the corners of his lips, but Lucia didn't shrink when faced down with it.

"Andolini. But, for you Shelbys, Lucia is still just fine."

He stood abruptly and made a turn around the kitchen, peeking into nearby rooms, inspecting the sparse decor, the furnishings, and the moulding against the walls. "It's a step up from Nechells."

Lucia's eyes swept across the clean, spacious house with dreamy eyes. "Aye. If there are any bad memories here, I wouldn't know about them."

As much as she loved her first flat in Nechells, it had been filled with the worst years of her life. This house her husband bought for her, there were only good memories here. Morning kisses by the front window, speckles of afternoon light falling across brown eyes turning them to honey, making love in front of the fire during winter nights. This house was filled with happy memories.

"Do you want whiskey?"

"If I said I wanted tea, would it surprise you?"

Lucia bit back a sad feeling. "I've learned not to be surprised by you."

She shut the cabinet housing the alcohol, braced one hand against the counter, and stretched up as far as she could to reach the tea tin on the top shelf. With a sheepish laugh, she muttered under her breath, "fuckin' hell. He's always putting it up here on purpose."

Lucia felt Tommy's presence close in. His arm easily reached past hers to pull the tin down. Surprised by how strong it felt being in his proximity, Lucia offered a quick smile in thanks and quickly stepped away before gravitating even closer to his arms. She had worked so hard to rebuild the broken pieces after he had chosen Grace. It would be a waste to fall into him again.

The poor bastard didn't do it on purpose, truly. He didn't know what he'd feel being so close and, by the look on Lucia's face, she didn't expect it either.

As hands worked deftly to arrange teacups and heat water and level out leaves, Lucia kept her voice as even as possible. "How's Ada and the baby? How's everyone? I miss them."

"They're all good," he answered from the kitchen table, staring into her back. "She's named him Karl. After Karl fuckin' Marx."

Turning and leaning against the counter, Lucia folded her arms across her chest with a grin. "How very appropriate for our Ada. Freddie really got to her."

Tommy's face turned sour for a brief moment and Lucia laughed.

"I don't know why you're still so raw about it. I've known for years!"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you'd react this way. With that face." There was delight in her voice, her gestures, and her eyes. "It looks like you've sucked on a lemon, Tommy."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Tommy mirrored the smile that pulled across her lips. They were all smiles together. "Out of everyone, it's hard to believe you lied to me."

"It's not lying if you're too stupid to figure it out."

A soft rush and the amber tea was poured out. There was no clink of teaspoon against the sides of the cup. Lucia set one infront of him and closed her hands around the other, feeling the heat tingle her fingertips. Neither took milk or sugar. They'd learned to drink without out as children growing up not able to afford either. Lucia remembered. Even if Tommy drank tea far and in between, Lucia remembered.

"What can I do for you, Tommy?"

He shrugged and took a small sip from his cup. It scalded his tongue. "What makes you think I want something from you?"

Lucia's brow quirked, confidently calling his bluff after all their years growing up together.

"I just wanted to see you, Luce."

"How's Grace?" She quickly changed the subject before he got too sentimental and spoiled the lovely reunion but, from his pulled expression, it seemed Lucia was the one that spoiled it.

"She's married. Moved to America. To a place called Poughkeepsie." Tommy stared down into his cup and wished he had asked for whiskey instead. Keeps sending me letters, he wanted to tack onto the end miserably.

A moment later a glass of whiskey was poured out, one for him and one for her. Lucia offered an apologetic querl of her lips. She raised her glass, "here's to the others, eh?"

"That's what Polly said." Their glasses clinked. "To the others."

"Whoever she is," Lucia warmly assured, "she ought to know what a handful you are. Send her to me so I can set it straight."

A comforting air of friendliness settled as the whiskey washed down their throats. It was almost as if Lucia had never loved him with all her heart and Tommy never let her go to chase after another woman.

"Are you happy, Tommy?"

He nodded.

"You don't look happy. You wouldn't have come here if you were."

"You make me happy."

Lucia shot him a severe look. "I'm married. You can't say things like that any more."

From down the hall, the front door swung open and heavy footsteps stepped into the house. "Apolla!"

"That's him," Lucia whispered to Tommy in warning. "Be nice." To her husband, she called out in their native tongue, "Nicolò, in the kitchen. Come meet someone."

Nicolò was a barrel-chested man with a broad nose sitting over stubbled cheeks. His eyes were lively, eyebrows as thick and dark as the wavy hair on his head. He pressed a kiss to his wife's temple and a bashful smile was on her lips before Tommy could blink. Jealousy surged through him followed by incurable sadness. She was so happy.

"Nico, this is Thomas Shelby."

If Nicolò was suspicious of Tommy's intentions, he did well at not showing signs of it. In fact, an easy greeting fell from his lips and he extended a strong hand to shake. "I've heard a lot about you, Tommy Shelby. My Apolla," his arm snaked around Lucia's waist, "speaks highly of your family."

Visibly worried, Lucia looked between the two men and gave Tommy another wordless motion to be nice.

Nicolò continued, as easy and courteous as ever, blissfully unaware of his wife's eyes dancing between him and their guest, "she said your mother raised her."

"Yes," was Tommy's weary response, "we grew up together, Lucia and me."

"Where is your brother, Arthur? Is he with you? I want to ask just how mischievous Apolla was as a girl."

"I have some stories for you," said Tommy through a graciousness that only Lucia translated as forced. "Not as many as my brother though."

Lucia blanched as the two men sat at the table to discuss her childhood. They shared and laughed and Tommy recounted his favorite memories, interrupted only by Lucia's grumbled curses in embarrassment.

"Once," Tommy swiped a hand over his mouth to suppress his laugh, "it was dead winter. There was a lamp at the end of the street. What Luces does is…"

Lucia watched her husband carefully, waiting for any sign of boredom or irritation as Tommy made an attempt to do as she asked and be kind. She was grateful and offered small smiles everytime their eyes met.

"At my grandmother's camp, she climbed up a caravan and wanted to jump into the river — "

"No! Don't tell him this story, Tom!"

Nicolò grinned and insisted the story be told for his sake. "All this climbing, Apolla. Did I marry a monkey or a woman?"

"I can't listen to this. Call me when it's over." She shot up from the table and rushed up the stairs, red in the face and sheepish.

Once the bedroom door had shut, it's click echoing down to the kitchen, the conversation was snuffed out into tense silence. Tommy and Nicolò sat staring at one another, wondering who was going to speak first.

"Her parents told me you'd come around one day," Nicolò finally said. The friendliness that was previously in his voice disappeared. Instead, his words were now flat and cold. "And her brother told me what you did."

Despite his discomfort, Tommy didn't shift in his seat or break eye contact. Evenly, he stared back. Blue eyes piercing brown.

"Lucia is happy, well cared for. I bought her this house. She does as she pleases."

"I meant no disrespect."

"If you had come with your brother or your aunt, it would be a different matter. But you came alone. And so you understand where my suspicion comes from."

"I understand."

"She has suffered too much at the hands of others. I plan to protect her from people like you."

"She's fully capable of protecting herself. It's her mother you should protect her from."

Nicolò chuckled. "You don't know my Apolla. She is stronger than you will ever know. But people - people like you - think they can put ideas into her head and lead her around on a chain. She has a good heart but she trusts family too easily, and offers those bad people too many chances. She deserves to have someone to protect her, to love her, so people like you don't take and take and take for your own selfish means."

"And you think you're that man?"

He held up his left hand. The wedding band sat comfortably on his finger. "I am that man. What do you think you could offer her?"

Tommy Shelby leaned forward in his chair, casting a shadow over the tea that had long gone cold. "Money and power."

Nicolò scoffed and barked a laugh. "Lucia has no interest in money and power."

"Doesn't she?"

"You want her to be your wife instead? With jewels and gowns and maids?"

Tommy shook his head. "No. My Lucia has no interest in jewels or gowns or maids. She has her mind. I am a powerful man with a strong foothold in this city. How much more powerful could I be with her beside me?"

"Yes, yes," Nicolò waved off Tommy's pride absentmindedly. "Everything you want from her is for yourself. You see this?" He laid his hand flat on the tabletop. The wedding band scraped across the surface in a way that made Tommy cringe. "I made her this with my bare hands. I've made her laugh in this house. I have held her while she cried in this house. We have shared meals in this house. The only thing Lucia has no interest in is you. And you know it."

Swallowing the hard lump in his throat, Tommy sat back in his chair. He broke eye contact to search the countertops. Wooden spoons sat in wooden boxes. Chipped jars of pickled eggplants were stout beside tall bottles of Sicilian olive oil. Nicolò was right to be suspicious. A faraway dream had Tommy convinced he could somehow win Lucia back for himself.

Even from the top floor Lucia could sense the tension and quickly reentered the kitchen. Her eyes found Tommy's first. "All done?"

Tommy looked away.

"All done!" Nicolò's face changed into a grin and he stood from the table, gesturing his wife foward. "Back to work, I go. Only stopped by to see you, Apolla," he pressed a long kiss to her lips and said he'd see her tonight. To Tommy, Nicolò extended a firm hand. "Nice to meet you, Shelby."

Once it was just the two of them again, Lucia and Tommy stood around the table awkwardly before she began clearing away the cold tea. "He threatened you, didn't he?"

"No." It was an honest answer. "He told me how much he loved you." The peaky cap was wrung between his sweaty hands. "I'm happy for you, Luce." He dropped his gaze to her lips and back up. "I won't come by again."

He moved towards the door but Lucia tugged him back against her body before his hand met the knob. Her arms wrapped around his neck, cheek pressed to the wool coat. If she stilled long enough, the beat of his heart would have rattled her brain.

"Give my love to Polly, Ada, and the boys."

Tommy nodded, forced a smile, and stepped out into the streets wordlessly. He felt her eyes follow him down the sidewalk until he reached the car. When he managed to look back, hoping to catch one last drink of her face, her throat, her body, her smile, all the things he had loved, all Tommy saw was the door, shut forever on whatever they could have been.

AN: Hi all! Sorry I haven't been posting over here much! I've been more active on AO3 taking advantage of the series feature. I have a whole series of short stories based on user prompts for Lucia and Tommy if you're interested! I'll add the link to my profile :D