Her first impression of the area was quite underwhelming. It was just like all the other towns she had passed through. The only thing that stood out was the suited and booted man riding a horse down the narrow street. No one else seemed to look at the man with the same curiosity as Dorothy. The horse was a striking black colour and seemed completely indifferent to all the noise around it and the mystery man was stone-faced. Dorothy couldn't stop staring at them as they walked through the streets and didn't notice the young lad as he ran from a darkened alley into her path. A knock to her hip and she from the blur in front of her and she landed with a small thud on the floor, bag falling a few feet away to her side. She quickly gathered herself and as she began to stand a deep Birmingham accent spoke up over the noise of the street.

"Finn, 'elp the lady up and be on your way. I thought I'd told you about runnin' around like that."

A hand shot out in Dorothy's face and she gladly accepted the help from the boy. He couldn't have been more than 10 years old, with an ash-covered shirt on and smudges of soot all over his face. The mischievous glint in his eye made him appear much older than he actually was.

"Sorry miss. I wasn't lookin'," the boy – Finn, as the voice had identified him as – turned to face the man on the horse before continuing, "I was on ma' way home now Tommy. Honest." Finn resumed running through the street towards one of the houses across the way. Dorothy dusted herself off and moved to pick up her bag when that deep voice spoke once more.

"Sorry Miss. Our Finn hasn't learnt 'is manners yet by the looks of it."

"It's alright. Boys will be boys as they say. No bother, mister…" Dorothy trailed off hoping the gentleman would continue.

"Thomas."

"It's no bother, Thomas."

Thomas looked Dorothy up and down for several seconds before tipping the brim of his hat towards her and continuing on his way. It was only when the buzz of the street grew loud again that Dorothy even realised it had been silent during their encounter.

Dorothy pushed open the door to The Garrison tentatively.

"Hello?"

There was a silence that answered her as she stepped further into the seemingly empty pub.

"Hello? Is anyone in?"

"We're closed." A gruff voice replied. A man emerged from behind the bar with rolled-up sleeves, a stained apron around his waist and a cigarette hanging between his lips.

"Good. That's what I was hoping for. I'm not here for a drink; I'm here to be your new barmaid."

His eyes wandered up and down her body before s slight chuckled escaped his mouth. "You must have the wrong place love. The lads here would have you up against a wall on your first-day 'ere. I'm doin' you a favour when I tell you to go home."

Having thought the matter was done with, the barman simply turned around and began sweeping the wooden floors. Dorothy took a deep breath in before gently placing her hat and handbag on a nearby table and began gathering empty glasses from around the room and placing them on the bar.

"I heard that you were looking for help and I'm here for the job. I'm glad for your advice but I don't need a favour. I need a job. I'm a lot harder to break than I may look."

The man once again looked up at Dorothy as she began clearing up. She was a small little thing with auburn hair and deep brown eyes. Her clothes looked like they'd seen better days and her quiet focus was almost calming. Harry watched as she walked up to him and gently took the broom from his hands. She began sweeping and humming and Harry couldn't help but smile at the nerve of this young lady.

"Two o'clock this afternoon. We'll see 'ow it goes. Alright?"

"Thank you, mister. I'll be there."

Dorothy gathered her belongings and made her way towards the front doors.

"I'm Dorothy by the way," she said over her shoulder.

"Nice to meet you Dotty. I'm Harry. Harry Fenton."

With a nod back to Harry, she left The Garrison and went back to her small room at the inn to prepare for the evening.

Most of the men made the occasional indecent comment but they were all bark and no bite. Dorothy could feel Harry's eyes on her, watching her over the course of the afternoon.

"Is it always this busy during the day, Harry?" Dorothy questioned. Men were lining up three bodies deep to buy their next pint.

"Nah, not normally. These boys are on their way to St Andrew's." Harry replied as he poured more whiskey.

"Big game then?"

"I'll say, the blues are playing." Harry continued on to point out members of the team dotted around the pub but Dorothy's focus was elsewhere. The small window to the snug opened to reveal the gentleman from the street earlier today. His face was as unreadable as it had been earlier, but Dorothy could have sworn she saw a brief expression of shock on the Thomas' face upon seeing her.

"I need a bottle of rum," Thomas said as he pulled out a stack of notes.

"Whatever it is, it's on the house," Harry whispered in her ear.

"A whole bottle?" she questioned. Thomas simply grunted his reply at her.

"White or dark rum?" Dorothy had barely finished her question before Thomas hastily replied that he didn't care. "Must be a big celebration," Dorothy said as she handed the bottle to Thomas.

"Big fight is more like it," Thomas mumbled.

"Is your son alright? He wasn't hurt was he?"

Thomas looked curiously at her, "my son?" he questioned.

"Finn. The young lad you were with earlier…"

"He's my brother. Not my boy. He's fine, it's my other brother who's gonna' be needing this." Thomas answered gesturing to the bottle Dorothy had placed before him.

"Harry says it's on the house."

Thomas looked Dorothy up and down before bluntly asking, "Are you a whore?" Dorothy had no response to give before he continued, "'cause if you're not, you're in the wrong place."

Still trying to form a scalding reply in her mind, Thomas walked away swiftly. Lost for words and desperate to defend her honour, Dorothy found herself leaving the safety of behind the bar and following Thomas out of The Garrison. She vaguely heard Harry shout something to her as she walked away but merely waved back at him and continued marching behind Thomas.

The streets were quiet, and Thomas strode in front of her as if on a mission.

"Excuse you!" Dorothy shouted to the man walking away from her. Thomas glanced over his shoulder but continued walking towards a house. "How dare you mister Thomas. You haven't a clue who I am so don't you go accusing me of being indecent." Thomas had stopped outside of an open door where faint groaning could be heard. Dorothy's curiosity got the better of her and rather than having It out with Thomas on the doorstep she walked further through the open door. Tommy couldn't believe what he was watching as she waltzed past him into the Shelby home. He couldn't seem to recover from her brazen attitude. After the smell of her perfume had floated past him, he came to his senses and hurried to catch up to the mystery lady before she wandered too far.

"Where do you think you're-" Tommy caught up with the barmaid as she entered their den.

"Who the 'ell is that?" a bloodied man spat out at Dorothy.

"No one. Just a barmaid." Tommy said through gritted teeth as he reached out to hold Dorothy's arm before she could take another step. He gripped tighter than he should have but this newcomer had amazed him with her confidence thus far and he couldn't be sure what she'd do next.

"Dorothy," she replied bluntly to the injured man, shooting daggers back at her captor – his hand too tight around her small arm. "You need to wash the blood out of his eyes for a start." Dorothy forcefully pulled her arm from Thomas' grip, causing the stitching on the shoulder of her dress to tear. She paid the rip no mind and walked closer to the injured man.

"Told ya' John, I know what I'm talkin' about," Ada said, walking over towards John. "Go get 'er some water for Arthur."

The man with the toothpick left the room and Thomas just stood there in silence as the new girl – Dorothy – knelt next to his injured brother. When John returned, a bowl of water and rag in hand, Dorothy gave John a kind smile before refocusing on the task at hand.

"Now this will sting a bit, but it's for the best, alright?"

Before Arthur could reply Dorothy had soaked the rag with hot water and began gently rubbing the cloth in circles across his face. His fists tensed as Polly was tending to his broken thumb, "Oi. Relax your hand. It's hard enough with all the fidgeting you're doin' so keep still will ya'?" Polly snapped at Arthur. Dorothy just continued to clean Arthurs cuts and gently wash the blood and grim from him. Ada, Tommy and John all stood at the edge of the room in shock. Not many people came this close to the family at such a vulnerable time, and certainly not if they were new to the area. Yet there Dorothy was, new on the street, unknown to the family and caring for the eldest as though they were kin.

Once Dorothy was done with cleaning the blood from Arthur she turned harshly towards the head of the family.

"You planning on using the rum, Thomas, or just gonna' stand their cradling it?" Everyone in the room turned to face Tommy. No one called him by his first name like that. No one disrespected him like that. Tommy merely handed the bottle to Dorothy with a semi-amused expression on his face. The fire in her eyes and her clear lack of understanding of who he was, was quite refreshing.

"Drink some," Dorothy commanded, handing the bottle to Arthur. The eldest Shelby looked at Tommy hesitantly, unsure of whether or not to trust the bold woman in front of him. Tommy gave a silent nod to his older brother and watched as Arthur, with a shaky hand, accepted the rum from Dorothy and took a sip. Dorothy then grabbed the bottle back and poured some onto the wet rag before pressing it against the deep gash on his forehead. Arthur let out a pained breath and tensed his whole body before the numbness began to spread. Dorothy placed the bottle back in Arthurs hand for him to continue drinking.

Dorothy stood up and brushed herself off. Her dress was torn at the shoulder and had blood all over the sleeves, but she looked unfazed.

"Right, well I'll leave you all to it. Ladies. Gents." Dorothy nodded her head at the family watching her and walked out of the room before anyone had a chance to stop her.

The Shelby's were left in silence, wondering what force had just swept through their house.

"Where'd ya' find that one, Tommy?" Polly asked.

"She was at The Garrison. Just followed me in here."

Polly chuckled. She could see there was something about that girl. She had the looks, no doubt about it, but Dotty's courage was something else. "Well, I reckon we owe 'er a new dress."

A/N Hi everyone. I've just started watching Peaky Blinders and I love it so far and I just had to write! I'd appreciate any feedback so please review, follow and favourite! Let me know what you think.

-QwertyWords