Grace and Dorothy worked side by side in an uneasy quiet, only addressing the other to say 'excuse me' as they passed. Dorothy's mind was working overtime trying to think of something to say to break the silence but Tommy's unexpected entrance was the first break from the quiet. Despite Dorothy being closer to Tommy, Grace quickly pushed past her to serve the Shelby man, giving him Irish whiskey and three glasses.

"I've decided not to go. To the races." Grace stated, "Not unless you give me another two-pound, ten shillings toward the dress."

"I've already given you three," Tommy replied, he addressed Grace but his eyes were looking past her in search of Dorothy. Dorothy was listening to the exchange intently while trying not to show her curiosity.

"How much did you pay for the suit you'll be wearing?" Grace's voice was almost melodic, her Irish accent enticing.

"Oh I don't pay for suits," Tommy said casually, "My suits are on the house, or the house burns down."

"So you want me to go looking like a flower girl?" Grace countered.

"What I want makes no difference. It's not me you're dressin' up for"

No sooner had the hatch to the snug closed when two unfamiliar men walked in. Grace seemed to remain close to the snug and float around that end of the pub for the remainder of the morning. After Tommy had ended the conversation, the two girls fell back into their wordless routine. Dorothy continued to tidy the pub and restock while Grace hovered around the snug.

"So, what does your dress look like? Must be gorgeous for five pounds." Dorothy asked, eager for the conversation to flow. She didn't have many friends in this new place and was desperate for someone to talk to. Grace didn't seem to share the same idea.

"It's red." Straight to the point, cool and detached. Dorothy would have to try and find someone else to talk to instead and with a roll of her eyes, continued to sweep The Garrison and hum.

Ten minutes after Mr Shelby had taken the whiskey, the two strangers left The Garrison singing. Tommy slowly made his way towards Dorothy. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and as he approached the bar, Grace interrupted. "I thought you only allowed singing on a Saturday."

Tommy's focus reluctantly shifted from Dorothy to the blonde woman beside her. "Whiskey is good proofing water. It tells you who's real and who isn't."

"And what did my countrymen want?" Grace inquired.

"Oh, they're nobodies. They drink at The Black Swan in Sparkbrook." Tommy stated.

Dorothy interrupted, "They're only rebels 'cause they like the songs."

Tommy smirked at her contribution and Grace looked less than impressed.

"You have sympathies with them?" Grace continued. Dorothy was getting bored with the questions and decided to leave the two to it and go check on the stock in the cellar. As she left the room she could feel two sets of eyes on her.

After Dorothy had finished her jobs for the morning she wandered over to the church. With few friends and little else to do, she thought spending time with God may help. What Dorothy hadn't expected to see was the eldest Shelby brother, halfway through a bottle of whiskey stretched out across a pew.

"Mr Shelby," Dorothy nodded her greeting at the man.

"Well if it isn't our Dotty come to save the day again…" Arthurs speech was slurred, and his face was sad. Dorothy had seen this before. Flanders blues. As she went to walk past him the man reached out and clung onto her, much like children clung to their mother's skirts.

"Mr Shelby, shall I go and get someone for you?"

"No." He replied quickly. "No. Just. Just stay." Dorothy was stunned, to say the least. "Please?" he asked. His desperation caused her to sit down beside him. They sat in silence for a few minutes until Dorothy found the courage to speak.

"Just feels hopeless doesn't it?" Arthur merely shrugged in response. "All that violence. All that bloodshed and for what? Doesn't feel all that much different. Now the dust has settled." Dorothy fidgeted in her seat, uncomfortable, but continued. "Our lives changed so much over there but here… Everything, and nothing, is all the same."

Arthur's eyes darted to face her, the 'our' catching his attention. "You were out there?"

"I was a nurse. I saw… everything."

The heaviness of what she had said wasn't lost on either of them.

"We may have come back alive, but we all died a little bit over there."

Arthur gave a sick chuckle before replying, "Ain't that the truth."

She let their shared experience speak for itself before continuing, "But. Some people didn't come back at all. We both saw it. And we owe it to all of the fallen men to at least try."

An emotional sigh was all she got back from the eldest Shelby. He passed her the whiskey and much to both their surprise, took a sip. It burned down her throat as she drank it but she was grateful to feel the warmth in her stomach.

"In God's house Arthur? You've even corrupted Doll. This must be a new low, brother." Tommy teased. Dorothy's head shot around to the intruder and she quickly stood.

"I'll be going then." One more sip of whiskey, Dorothy nodded to the brothers and left. She faintly heard Arthur's mumbled thanks as she exited the church.

On her way into work the following day, Dorothy ran into Ada Thorne nee Shelby. The woman was running frantically down the street and almost fell into Dorothy's arms.

"Ms Thorne, what's wrong?" Dorothy asked worriedly. It was only once before the two women had spoken but the crazed look on Ada's face was cause for concern.

"Have you seen Freddie Thorne?"

"No, I-"

"Or Tommy?" Ada cut of Dorothy with a groan.

The young Thorne held her stomach as she leant over in pain.

"No, I haven't seen either of them. What's wrong?" Dorothy carried Ada's weight as they stumbled into The Garrison. "Grace. Get some water." Dorothy shouted to her colleague. The blonde appeared at Ada's other side with a glass of water and together they lowered her into a chair. "Drink this, Ada."

Ada pushed the water aside and tried to stand up, "I have to find them, I think they're gonna' kill each other."

Before Dorothy could take in the scenario and consider what she was doing, the words escaped her lips, "I'll go. Just stay here Ada. Drink the water. Stay calm."

"Check the canals!" Ada exclaimed. Dorothy nodded hopefully at Ada and walked out the doors.

Tommy was knelt by the waterway with a gun pointed at his head. Dorothy couldn't hear what was being said but neither of the men looked all too pleased.

"Thorne! Shelby!" Dorothy shouted from a distance, marching up to the men. "What the hell is goin' on?"

"Doll, leave. Now." Tommy ordered. Dorothy paid him no mind and continued her approach.

"You are Freddie Thorne, right? Ada's husband."

"Who the 'ell is this?" Freddie asked, looking through Dorothy to Tommy.

"Your wife is making herself sick over this, Freddie. Just put the gun down and go home." Dorothy pleaded.

Freddie laughed, his gun wavering slightly giving Tommy enough time to jump to his feet and pull out a gun of his own. "This your big plan Tommy? Get another woman to do the job for you. If you want me out of Birmingham, Tommy, it'll have to be in a damn box."

Dorothy was stuck between the two of them holding guns aimed at the other. "Dorothy. Leave. I won't tell you again."

"Thomas. I won't leave until one of you used your godforsaken brains and puts the gun down. Don't you talk to me like a child."

"He thinks he owns us all, Love," Freddie said causing Dorothy to spin to face him.

"I'm not your Love," Dorothy said through gritted teeth.

"Your marriage will not stand," Tommy said menacingly as he lowered his gun.

"Go. She's in The Garrison. Show her you're not dead." Dorothy ordered Freddie who reluctantly backed away towards the pub.

Tommy roughly grabbed Dorothy by the shoulder and swung her around to face him.

"And what in the bleedin' hell do you think you're doin' here?" Tommy asked angrily, "When I tell you to leave, you damn well do it."

"You do not own me, Thomas Shelby," Dorothy said defiantly. She crossed her arms across her chest and stood her ground.

"That's where your wrong, Doll," Tommy's anger was rising. His volume got quieter and his language carefully chosen. Venom in each word. "I own the clothes you wear, the pot you piss in and the hook you hang your hat on. I own the streets you walk down and I own the bed you sleep in. I'm a bloody Shelby." Tommy turned to walk away as Dorothy held his arm causing him to turn back.

"You. Do. Not. Own. Me." Dorothy's eyes were ablaze and her hair wild and uncombed. Her sleeves were rolled from work and her skirt was askew from the action. She looked nothing like a lady should but commanded his attention all the same. She moved forward towards him one step, "I," one more step closer "Am," one step closer, "Not," another step, "Yours."

She was stood directly in front of Tommy, her breath grazed against his skin and the faint smell of cigarettes, whiskey and perfume surrounded her. Tommy looked down at her angered face, their eyes meeting.

Tommy's lips crashed down on hers, forcing her backwards from his sheer force. The first second Dorothy didn't know what to do but she soon felt her instincts taking over and melting into the kiss. Anger and passion poured into their connection as Tommy's hands moved from gripping her face down towards her waist. In sudden realisation, Dorothy pushed him back with all her might as her right hand caught his cheek with a resounding slap.

Tommy held his cheek for a moment and took a deep breath. The kiss had felt right, she had felt right. The perfect height and size to fit against his body. Their lips moved in sync with one another. That was until she stopped him. He fixed his collar and pulled his coat tighter. He corrected himself and looked back up towards Dorothy.

She was stood with her hand covering her mouth. Shaking. Fearful. She had just slapped Thomas Shelby.

"When I tell you to leave. You leave. Got it?"

Dorothy just nodded silently, scared to further antagonise him.

Tommy turned to walk away, "'Else next time you might end up getting shot by one of those things."

Dorothy remained rooted in her spot as she calmed her racing heart and controlled her breathing. The kiss had been perfect but unexpected. His wandering hands, however, had been unwelcome.

Tommy walked into The Garrison the following day as though nothing had happened. At the sight of him, Dorothy felt her cheeks blush and she could only stare at the floor. She was more than happy to let Grace serve him.

"Nine-o'clock tomorrow morning. Mr Shelby wants to meet us here." Grace informed her. Dorothy nodded and hesitantly walked over towards the snug as Grace served.

"Mr Shelby." Tommy nodded his head slightly, indicating she was to come in. "I'm very sorry Sir. I-"

"Well, I was clearly wrong about you bein' a whore, wasn't I," Tommy stated.

Dorothy felt her anger towards the man flare. She came in to apologise and there he sat, antagonising her. "I think it's best I don't go tomorrow, Sir."

Tommy didn't apologise often. He knew he should but taunting her was so much more interesting. "And why is that, Doll?"

Again, Dorothy took a deep calming breath before answering, "Well yesterday-"

"Yesterday never happened. Alright? It was a mistake." Tommy replied curtly.

Dorothy's heart fell slightly in her chest. "Okay, Sir."

Tommy and Dorothy couldn't bring themselves to look the other in the eye.

"Nine-o'clock. Tomorrow." Tommy finished his drink and left The Garrison.

The following morning, Dorothy bathed, cleaned her hair and put on the black, beaded dress. It looked flawless. Each bead caught the reflection of the light and sparkled delicately against her pale skin. She took care to paint her lips a subtle red and curl her hair just-so. As she walked to The Garrison, her shoes clicked against the cobbles.

As Tommy pulled up to the pub he opened the back door, "Grace," he motioned to the back seat, much to Grace's disappointment. "Doll," he said as he opened the front door, much to Dorothy's discomfort. It seemed as though neither girl was sat where they wanted to be.

The drive was quiet. Grace occasionally asked Tommy a question, she was far more interested in talking to him than she ever was talking to Dorothy. When they arrived, Tommy guided Grace through the back rooms with a hand on her back. Dorothy trailed behind, looking closely at all the goings-on. Men in brightly coloured jackets walked with urgency all around her and the faint sound of horses whinnying could be heard.

"Okay, you do the talking," Tommy whispered to Grace. The blonde looked confused as he explained further, "Tell security you are Lady Sarah Duggan of Connemara." Dorothy had caught up to them at this point and could see the concern across Grace's face. "Say you got lost when you went to look for the boy riding your horse, er, Dandy Flower."

As the three approached the red velvet rope, Grace faltered.

Swiftly, Dorothy pushed through Tommy and Grace and took over.

"Lady Sarah." Dorothy gestured behind her to Grace. "She got a tad lost when looking for the boy riding her horse, but we've found her now so she's ready to go back through." The guard looked uncertainly at Tommy. "He's Prussian, can't speak a word of English." The guard hesitated once again and panic began to rise in Dorothy's chest. "Are you really going to keep the Lady of Connemara waiting?"

The guard mumbled his apologies and pulled back the partition for the three of them to walk through. Once they were out of sight, Dorothy let out a sigh of relief.

"Extra quid for Doll," Tommy declared and turned to face Grace, "Follow her lead."

Music played loudly through the room and couples danced cheerfully. A young suited man approached the trio and asked for Grace's hand to dance. Reluctantly, she agreed.

"What do you say Doll, will you dance with me?"

Dorothy hesitated momentarily before slipping her hand into Tommy's as he escorted her to the dance floor.

"Lead me over there," Dorothy said, gesturing to the far corner, "That's got the best view of Kimber's table."

A faint smile played on Tommy's face as he admired how quickly Dorothy caught on to his plans.

"Since when do you give the orders around here?" he questioned.

She paused for a second and for the first time that day, brought her eyes up to meet his. There was a moment of meaningful silence before she spoke, "Since you nearly smiled."

A/N I hope you enjoyed it! Also, thank you to my first two reviewers, I hope this update doesn't disappoint. Please favourite and follow if you're enjoying it and leave a review!

-QwertyWords