I'm giving a quick update because I feel bad having only one chapter up. I hope you enjoy more of Anna's silliness in this chapter.

Thank you very much for all the comments and follows!

Chapter 2: The first official job

"I'd like to reserve room 913," Tommy spoke into the telephone. A new addition to his office, but a useful one, nonetheless. It had cost him a pretty penny, too.

"Date?" The female voice on the other end asked.

"Upcoming Monday, month-long stay," he replied.

"Any specialized luggage we are to accommodate for?" Tommy glanced down at the paper in front of him.

"A record player," he found the word, feeling a bit awkward stumbling through the ridiculous code.

"Car or horse?"

"Horse," he said. "It will require room and board, as well."

"Understood, sir," the woman replied. "If you would wait a moment while I check availability." Tommy leaned back in his chair, pushing the paper away. He'd had his contacts get him the guild guidelines and manual. Anna had also given him a nice list of codes. It was all a bit ridiculous, but he could see the perks. If anyone had been listening in on the conversation they'd have thought that Tommy was merely arranging for a month-long stay in London, bringing a new record player and boarding his horse meanwhile. While in fact, he'd been ordering a particular thief's services, number 913, for a month-long mission, giving them room and board while on mission and arranging for reconnaissance. It was all very smooth, very neat. A well-oiled machine in place for years. "Sir?" The woman was back on the line.

"I'm here," Tommy spoke.

"Room 913 is available for you, it will be cleaned and prepared on Monday at seven in the morning," she told him. "If you could provide your information details for the reservation, please. If you wish to remain anonymous until arrival, that is fine, as well, but we would require a down payment."

"Thomas Shelby," he said. "Birmingham."

"Thank you very much, that is enough for a reservation," the woman stopped him before he gave out one of his fake addresses. "It's a pleasure doing business with you again, Mr. Shelby, have a great one." And the line cut off before he could reply.

"Fucking guild," Tommy grumbled, putting the phone away. He turned to the plans in front of him. Billy Kimber. He needed everything on the man. Everything anyone could get. Which meant, reconnaissance. And who better to do it than the woman who already had a bone to pick with the man?

Tommy was in the stall, shoveling horse dung when she arrived. He didn't know how she found him, and he didn't really want to know. He'd checked out Anna's reputation with his other associates, those who worked in the black and those who didn't. She had appeared in the guild a little under a year ago, as a new fresh name. Her work was always impeccable, but sometimes late. She didn't take every job, only those she liked. And she liked high stake jobs with dangerous implications. She didn't have an address, didn't have a family, didn't have a paper trail. Anna was a ghost. Tommy didn't like that, but he had to admit that her work was amazing. With the information she'd supplied, he'd been able to fix so many problems in one go. Crash deals of his competitors left and right, without breaking a sweat. He was ahead of the game and he loved that. He loved being able to plan while knowing what cards his enemies held. He needed Anna. She was indispensable.

"Morning," Anna's voice made him whip his head around. He found her standing casually at the door of the stables, this time dressed properly. Dark dress, hair pinned neatly up under a hat. Like a proper lady. Her nose wrinkled. "You're shoveling dung."

"Honest work," Tommy shrugged, enjoying the way she huffed.

"It's dung," she was adamant.

"Can't leave my horses sitting in it, can I?" Tommy went back to work. He wiped at his forehead, but kept tossing load after load into a wheelbarrow.

"These are yours?" Anna asked, stepping inside the barn.

"Racehorses," he nodded. "Sleek Victory, Gypsy, Show Me The Money and Monaghan Boy." He heard Anna crack up.

"Show Me The Money?" she bent over in a fit of giggles. "Okay, I'm impressed. I've heard some weird horse names but this one is at the top of the list!"

"Complain to Arthur," Tommy grumbled, but she was still laughing. He stopped shoveling to turn around and look at the woman who was out of sorts. She'd taken her hat off, some of her hair escaping the bun, and she was bent over, holding onto Gypsy's stall for support as she laughed her arse off. "Come off it," Tommy growled, which only made her laugh more.

"Oh, oh, I can just imagine them at the races reporting," she managed to straighten herself up and mimicked holding a loudspeaker and made an attempt at a serious face by furrowing her brows. "Here they come, here they come around the bend and iiiiit's Show Me The Money in the lead!" She lost it again, bending over in hysterics. Tommy chuckled, shaking his head.

"You're the weirdest thief I've ever met," he told her, completely honestly. Anna looked up, her pale hair wild around her from her hysterical episode.

"Have you met many thieves?" There was something sly in her expression, the child-like laughter completely gone. Something dangerous, mature.

"I'm from fucking Birmingham," Tommy huffed which made the girl shrug and nod.

"Understandable," she walked closer to him, glancing to the left to the horses. "Shall we get to it, then?"

"Not here," he tossed the last shovel of dung into the wheelbarrow and ignored Anna's approach. It was somewhere between curiosity about the horses, which she kept glancing at, and a subtle seduction towards him. Tommy stepped aside, letting her look at Monaghan Boy in the far stall better and avoiding her attempt at brushing against him as she went. Anna gave him a sly smile, like she had been aware of his cold shoulder. "Stop it," Tommy warned. Dramatically, she pouted.

"I was just looking at the horses," she said in such an innocent manner that he knew it was a lie. Tommy shook his head, unbothered by her behavior. He found her a puzzle. On one hand, she was a child. In her amusement and her little pranks, she was a child. Her laughter was honest, true, from the belly and uncontrollable. On the other hand, she was a woman. Her eyes got sharp and she smirked in a way he knew was dangerous. She was an odd mesh of innocence and matureness which had him wanting to discover more. More about what made a girl barely into adulthood like that. What broke someone so badly. Perhaps it was his own selfish need to understand how she could be so fixed on one hand, while he only had his broken parts. "Fuck! Oh, fuck, that's disgusting!"

"Serves you right," Tommy chuckled, pulling out his cigarettes and leaving the barn. He didn't resist looking back to see Anna's face of absolute horror as she tiptoed out of the stables, her nose scrunched up and a painful look in her eyes whenever she took a step with her left foot.

"They're pretty when they race," Anna sat in Tommy's kitchen, on the wooden counter, barefoot. Her legs were swinging childishly as she sipped her tea and ate toast. "And when they walk. And when they graze out in the field," she told him, showing with her hand into the distance. "But they shit too much."

"They shit just enough," he retorted, sitting down at the table. "I didn't invite you here to discuss the quantity of my horses' shit."

"Aye, aye, sir, yessir," Anna gave a mock salute. He must've given her one of his special looks, the one that came before he pulled out his gun, because her hand fell down. "Former soldier?" She asked tentatively. He didn't reply. He just grit his teeth. She seemed to find her answer in the silence, though, because she hopped off the counter and walked over to the table, sitting opposite him. She placed her tea and toast down. "I'm sorry for disrespecting the service, I didn't know." Tommy looked up at her, shocked at the honesty of her apology. She'd done it so easily. Her hand found his tense fingers and gave them a gentle caress. "It won't happen again."

"It's not important."

"It's important to me," Anna's tone was firm, serious. He was reminded of the moment when she talked about loopholes in her contract with the guild. Not quite like that. This was coming from a raw place. "I like you fairly well, Mr. Shelby. I don't want you getting the wrong impression of me. I highly respect the sacrifices made in the War, even though I only know stories from working as a nurse." That got his attention.

"You were a combat nurse?" Anna shook her head.

"I was stationed back home, away from bloodshed. We got only the worst cases there, really. People who were deemed unfit to fight." She closed her eyes for a moment and Tommy recognized that painful expression. Too many memories. "From head injuries, severed limbs to madness and memory loss, we got it all. I wasn't really supposed to be working there, though, I was too young." She gave him a sad, but mischievous smile. "I dressed up as a nurse and went instead of my sister whenever I could. I wanted to help." There was a moment of silence. Tommy bit his tongue, keeping quiet. He wanted to share. Something about Anna's story, her calm way of recalling those memories, made him want to tell her his. But, being a nurse and being a tunneler were two things as different as night and day. So, Tommy did what Tommy knew best – he steered away from the topic.

"I need you to get me dirt on Kimber." He saw the disappointment in Anna's eyes, but she shrugged and switched topics willingly. She didn't push him.

"What do you need?"

"Has he seen your face?"

"One of them," she said with an eerie calm about her.

"Use another," Tommy ordered. "Get me everything. I want to know about his family. Wife, mistress, offspring. Mother, father, great-grandfather. Everything." Anna nodded without a word. "I want to know when he leaves his house, where he goes, who he sees, what they talk about. I want to know what he eats, who prepares it, who serves it to him. Where he goes to bed, when he goes to bed. When he takes a shit and how long it takes. All of it."

"Would that be properties of the shit, too? Or may I stay out of the water closet?" Anna cheekily asked, making Tommy slam his open palm on the table. "Alright, alright," Anna's hands flew up in defense. "Not being smart, I get it. I'll give you everything you need and more."

"Good," Tommy nodded jerkily, sucking in a deep breath. "Good." Anna drank her tea in silence, giving him a moment to collect himself. She didn't cower, didn't run, just sat there, looking out the window.

"It's gonna take a month or two," she said, finally, as Tommy pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

"As much time as you need," he agreed.

"It'll be expensive," she huffed. Tommy waved her off. "The guild will send you a proper bill for my services." Silence. "Do you want weekly progress or monthly?"

"Weekly," he said, exhaling a cloud of smoke from his lungs. Smoking calmed him down. It was a bad habit, nasty and smelly, but it calmed him down. Allowed him to think.

"I'll see you in a week then, sweetheart," Anna bid him goodbye with a cheekily blown kiss, picking up her hat and shoes, leaving out the door. He didn't want to know how she got in and out of the house so quietly. He was too busy fighting with the image of the kitchen walls closing in on him, threatening to collapse all around him. Tommy stood, grabbing his coat and heading back for the stables. He needed to be outside.

The sound of their voices was all around him. German being whispered in harsh, clipped sentences. Then, a large explosion and the smell of earth. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe and the earth was all around him. He was being buried alive. Then, a sharp pain on his cheek.

"Wake the fuck up, you idiotic gangster!" Tommy's eyes opened wide to see the blue eyes of the girl he'd recently become familiar with. He shot up so quickly, hand going for her throat, but never reaching it because Anna slapped it away. She grabbed his wrist, holding it tight, the other hand trapped under her knee. "Wake up, Thomas!"

"I'm fucking awake!" He growled back, taking a deep breath, trying to get his lungs to work. He panted, realizing that he was pinned to his own bed by the slip of a girl on top of him. She was still holding his other wrist for dear life as he panted, disoriented. "What the hell are you doing in my room?"

"I looked in the office first, to be fair," Anna gasped out. "Then came here," she looked at him, searching for lucidity in his eyes. Finally, she moved her knee away and freed both of his hands. Then, she sat back on his thighs. "You weren't breathing."

"Fuck." Tommy dragged his hands across his face. They sat in silence, both breathing hard for a long moment. Then, Anna stood up from his bed, moving towards the open window. She pulled the curtains apart, letting the cool air of the early morning in.

"Opium?" Why was she asking if she knew. "That shit will kill you," she told him accusingly, but didn't scold him or nag at him.

"What's it to you? The Shelbys will pay you regardless."

"As I've said already, Thomas, I like you," Anna sat at the edge of his bed, catching his hand. Her grip was tight, tethering him to reality. The German whispers ceased coming from the walls. "I consider you more than a client. I enjoy our little chats. I'd hate to see you off yourself so stupidly. At least do something grandiose like blowing yourself up or going down in a duel." Tommy huffed a chuckle.

"Who the fuck duels in this day and age?"

"I think it's romantic," Anna told him with a smile. She was helping him deflect. She was guiding him away from the emotional pit he'd dug for himself. "I'd like to die in a duel. Or be eaten by a shark."

"Tough luck finding sharks inland."

"I'd go swimming," she told him, grinning. "I'd go rob some Mediterranean palace where the King has his treasure hidden underwater, deep, safe and sound. I'd be clutching a crown for my very own taking when that shark gets to me."

"Which shark?"

"Hammerhead," she instantly said. "Or a great white. Gotta be something amazing. An epic death." Tommy reached for his bedside, taking his hand out of her loose grip. It felt cold grasping his cigarettes and lighter. He lit one and took a deep inhale of the familiar taste of tobacco. His hands were cold without her fingers on them.

"An epic death," he mused.

"A grandiose death for a grandiose person," she smirked. Anna reached over, taking a cigarette out of his pack. Tommy raised an eyebrow. "I smoke when I'm stressed," she told him defensively.

"And you're stressed now?"

"You stress me out."

"Good thing you're not my wife, then," Tommy chuckled.

"The horror," Anna laughed, lighting her own cigarette. "On the other hand, being Kimber's wife would be worse. That man is a true pig, you know?" And she launched into her report, while Tommy relaxed against the headboard, listening. For some reason, he felt calm and at peace, listening to her talk. He realized that he could bear listening to her voice forever.

Holy fuck was he impressed. Not only had she brought him information, but she had brought him information.

"The whole fucking house?" Tommy asked, leaned over his desk, inspecting the map.

"The whole house," Anna smiled, sitting cross-legged in the chair on the other side. She was dressed differently, again, this time like a maid. "I took the time to mark the routine of each member of his staff, including the family, on the map. It includes the old tunnels dug before the war for smuggling, as well."

"Well done," he told her with a nod. Well done wasn't enough. She was remarkable. She was top of the line, he could tell. This was more than he'd ever managed to get, despite having his own spies inside the household.

"I'll dig into the racetrack next week," Anna sighed, stretching. "I'm a bit sore from all the work, so it'll be an extension. I need a break." Tommy looked up, seeing a bruise on her arm.

"Did you fuck him?" Anna stopped mid-stretch, her dark blue eyes finding his, sparking with fury.

"You didn't pay me enough to fuck him," she said icily.

"And if I did?"

"I'd kill you if you tried." It was a promise.

"Everyone has their price," Tommy pushed. He wanted to see how far he could go. Where was the line. Where was her line.

"Not me, sweetheart," she smiled that coy smile. Like she had secrets he had no idea about. Some internal joke he wasn't a part of. "I'm the most expensive thing you'll ever lay your eyes on." Still that joke. Something he was missing. It dug at him, but Tommy kept his cool. "Getting a fuck from me would be like winning the fucking lottery."

"I can fix the lottery," Tommy smirked.

"Not for this sum," Anna looked to the side. "Not for this sum, sweetheart."

"I'm not your sweetheart," Tommy grit out through his teeth.

"It bugs you," Anna gave him a knowing look. "But you'll learn to enjoy that vexing part of me, too. I'm too good to pass on, anyways."

"You're too arrogant to keep," Tommy replied.

"And yet," Anna stood, walking over, "you keep me."

"I must be mad," he concluded.

"Or you have a discriminating eye," she cheekily said. "I'll be off then," her hat was on her head again, bum on the window sill, "sweetheart." And Anna vanished out of his office window, as always. Tommy shook his head in disbelief, laughing alone in the first morning rays of sun. God help whoever wed that woman.

"Who is she?" Polly asked, making Tommy groan. "That woman who keeps being seen around the house and shop." His aunt was relentless, for one. Get a woman after the War, cheer up. Which woman did you get. Who is this. Who is that. Every single little thing, she had to know. Are you talking to someone. You should talk to someone. You shouldn't talk to anyone. She needed to make up her mind. "Is she a whore?"

"No, Pol, she's my thief," Tommy decided to go with the truth.

"Your thief?" Polly swirled her whiskey, her cigarette in the same hand. "As in, the thief you hired, the thief who robbed you or the thief you're fucking?" Tommy would rather be anywhere else.

"The thief I hired," he said. Then, at Polly's unimpressed look, he added. "And the thief who robbed me." Her eyebrow was still raised. "I'm not fucking her."

"Yet," she added.

"Ever," Tommy told her adamantly. "She's a child, for one, and she's trouble."

"Should you keep a thief who's trouble?" Polly took a drag from her cigarette, watching him. Tommy finally gave up on reading the paper and placed it down on the kitchen table.

"She's good," he said with a sigh.

"There are other thieves who are good who aren't trouble," Polly said, drinking. If there was one member of his family who could annoy him thoroughly while also being completely right, it was Polly.

"Not this good," Tommy retorted. "She gets me what I need, efficiently."

"And expensively," Polly said. Then, she slapped his arm. "The guild, Tommy?! The fucking guild?! Do you know how much trouble they are?" Tommy sighed, leaning back in his chair as she slapped his arm again. "They don't only deal in thieves, you idiotic boy! They have assassins, murderers, mercenaries! What kind of monster are you letting into this house?! To walk in as she pleases?! She could slit our throats for a job!"

"Anna's different," Tommy said, doing his best to sound indifferent.

"How so? How so? Please, please, enlighten me?" Polly stubbed her cigarette, glaring.

"She likes working for us," Tommy replied.

"How do you know?"

"She said so herself," he sighed. Polly was asking the hard questions. Hard, because they were right. Tommy knew the guild was trouble. He had avoided them like the plague in the past. He knew what they dealt with and how they operated. At any moment, a valuable client could become a valuable payday. But, something about Anna had convinced him that he could trust her, as far as he could trust anyone. "She said she liked me."

"So, she wants to fuck you." Polly concluded. "Tommy! The guild!"

"Firstly," he leaned forward, catching Polly in a glare he knew was effective. "I did my research. She's new to the organization, and she's been well-booked ever since joining. She does reconnaissance and retrieval, only. Secondly, she's different from those other thieves I've met from the guild. She has her own mind." Polly was frowning. She shook her head then took a long sip from her glass.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she told him.

"I know exactly what I'm doing." She wanted to say more, but didn't. "Have you gotten rid of the weapons?" Another annoying topic. "Tommy! I told you to toss them!" Tommy leaned back in his chair, sighing. He pulled out another cigarette as Polly berated him. It was going to be a long day.

"Not here," Tommy growled, grabbing Anna by the elbow and dragging her out of the house before she managed to enter. He pulled her along the road, finally settling on entering the Garrison.

"Trouble at home, sweetheart? Your wife jealous of your thieving mistress?" Anna teased, making him grit his teeth. She giggled at his annoyance, obviously aware of just how vexing she was being. He pushed her into the booth he usually used for business. Then, Tommy went to the window, opening it.

"Whiskey," he ordered.

"And a soda," Anna added, appearing next to him. Her body pressed against his side, making him look down at her. But, she wasn't paying attention to him, or aiming at seduction, as far as he could see. Instead, she was curiously looking at the new blonde barmaid. "Pretty girl for a rowdy place," she commented. The barmaid didn't give any sign of having heard the observation.

"Sit down, trouble," Tommy sighed, shaking his head. He understood what she was getting at, though. The barmaid was too pretty. Unless she was willing to do some side work, she was definitely too pretty.

"Ah, you're catching on, sweetheart," Anna beamed up at him. "Trouble, I like it, as far as nicknames go."

"You're nothing but," he said.

"On the house, Mr. Shelby," the barmaid said, sliding over two empty glasses, Irish whiskey and a tall glass of soda. Anna happily took her soda, then placed the money on the counter for her drink. The barmaid looked at her curiously. "Harry said it's on the house, miss."

"I like to pay for my drinks," Anna shrugged. "Take it as a tip if you won't accept it as payment." She winked, walking away to the seats. Tommy took the whiskey and glasses only to see the barmaid looking at him for instructions.

"I'm not the boss of her," he shrugged with a smile. It seemed to surprise the blonde woman, but she didn't say anything, just accepted Anna's money.

"Have a good day, sir," she told him and closed the window. Tommy walked over to Anna, sitting down on the opposite side of the table.

"You're ruining my reputation," he told her.

"You could use getting taken down a peg or two," she cheekily replied.

"Fuck off," Tommy huffed, but couldn't help smiling. Anna always put him in a good mood. "Give it to me."

"Well, I've successfully entered the racing track," she smirked. "And boy is there drama there!" She seemed elated by the gossip she was about to relay.

Looking forward to hearing your thoughts :D