Welcome to another update! I'd like to remind everyone that this story is rated M, for the language (Tommy has a potty mouth and Anna is no better) and for the adult themes (sex is a part of life, it would be silly not to write about it, no?)

Huge thanks to all who commented, followed and favorited the story! You guys make me update quickly :)

Side note: I'm following season 1, but not retelling the action. I will add little bits of information so that you can see where in the episodes Anna and Tommy's little meetings fit, but nothing more.

I present:

Chapter 3: Partner in crime

"Anna," Tommy's raised finger made her walk back and sit on the opposite side of him yet again. She'd finished her report, drank her drink and she was ready to leave their new usual meeting spot, the Garrison. "I'll pay you double for a bit of side work."

"All the work I do must go through the proper proced-"

"No," Tommy cut her off. Anna huffed, crossing her legs. She reached over, finally taking the extra glass he always had on the table and pouring whiskey into it. He didn't comment as she downed the drink, wincing with a gasp.

"This sucks," she said to him. "Do you have vodka here?" At his raised eyebrow, she shrugged. "Fine, tell me the business."

"I want you to get me everything you can on Inspector Campbell." A moment of silence.

"Policeman?" She asked.

"Inspector," he replied.

"We don't fuck with the police, sweetheart," she shook her head. "It's a rule."

"I'm not asking you to do anything, just observe and chat with a friend," Tommy said, rolling a new cigarette around his lips before lighting it.

"Ah, friends are we, now?" Anna's eyes narrowed. "Somehow we're only friends when it's convenient, aren't we?"

"I'd like to consider our successful cooperation to have developed our previous acquaintanceship into a friendship," he shrugged. "If you don't want to do it, I have no more use for you. I'll pay you for the business you've done and find a new set of eyes and ears." She didn't seem perturbed by his veiled threat.

"You won't find better."

"I'll find more willing." She shook her head slowly at him, then laughed.

"You're one of a kind, you know that?" Tommy grinned. "I'll do your dirty work for you. But," she interrupted him before he could say anything. "If I get spotted, I'm out."

"That's reasonable," Tommy nodded. "I'm going to the races this weekend," he suddenly said. "Will I see you there?" Anna laughed.

"Are you asking me on a date, sweetheart?" She had a glint in her eye.

"I already have a date," he smugly replied.

"Tommy's got a girlfriend," Anna replied in a singsong voice, standing up. "Tommy's got a girlfrie-"

"Off with you, trouble," he waved her off, making her laughter get louder as she left the booth. He somehow knew that, she'd probably be unable to resist the idea of the races. The parties which followed them, after all, had plenty of pockets full of money ready to be picked. He chuckled, turning to the closed window. Grace would do, he figured. She was good enough bait for Billy Kimber. Besides, he was planning to show her off to the man, subtly, see if there was a way for her to be that beautiful distraction he so needed. He felt bad using the woman as a bargaining chip, but business always came first, in the end.

"The guns?" Tommy asked, sitting up in his bed, blinking owlishly. "And this couldn't wait until dawn?"

"No," Anna replied, walking around his room, touching this and that, looking at things.

"Stop rummaging," Tommy growled, seeing her pick up a picture frame. She raised her hands in defense, turning around to face him. She looked different. Her hair was dark, her lips painted red and she was wearing a dress. A nice dress. Beige and form fitting. For the first time since employing her, Tommy saw her as a woman. The dress didn't hide anything. In fact, it showed it off. "What does he want with the guns?"

"To retrieve them, as far as I've heard," Anna said, walking over to his bed. She sat on the edge. Tommy shook his head, turning on the lamp at his bedside.

"I know that much," he told her. "He came in the neighborhood a while back, roughed it up. Scared Polly enough for her to come to me."

"He works under Churchill," Anna supplied.

"I know," Tommy was getting annoyed. She'd woken him from another nightmare. He was happy for her interruption, but not for the lack of reasons for it.

"He's been sent here only for that purpose," she added. When she saw the look on his face, she continued. "He didn't fight in the war. He likes to think of himself as the herald of justice. He has a weakness for younger women. He has a spy in your quarter. He hired people to work under your banner. He likes-"

"What?" Tommy hissed.

"Which part should I go back to?"

"Spy? People under my banner?" He caught her hand, making her look up at him. "Who? Give me their names, Anna."

"As far as I got," she began, "It's Philip Woods, James Turner, Stephen Hill and Leonard Clarke. I couldn't get the name of the spy. Everything's buried pretty well, but I'll keep tailing him."

"Fuck," Tommy ran his hands over his face. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Anna patted his knee. He hadn't even noticed the infiltration. He'd thought that their rise in reputation was the reason for the recent volunteers to the Peaky Blinders.

"If I might suggest, don't dismiss them or put them on any other jobs, but just give them false information," she said. Tommy looked up, smirking.

"Better yet, give them four different pieces of information, conflicting," he added.

"See who's loyal, who ain't," Anna nodded. "Smart. You're a clever man, Thomas Shelby. It's incredibly attractive."

"Piss off," Tommy chuckled, shoving her hand off his thigh. "I need to get up."

"So, get up," Anna shrugged.

"I sleep in the nude." He raised his eyebrow at her. He wanted to vex her. He wanted to unsettle her. Something about the way she mercilessly teased him, completely brazen, had him wanting to break that calm. There was a light blush on her cheeks, but she shrugged again.

"I've seen naked men before, it doesn't bother me," she said. "Besides, there's more business to be done."

"Fine," Tommy motioned for her to turn around, but she just closed her eyes and kept giving him her report.

"On the Kimber front," she spoke, ignoring the ridiculousness and inappropriate nature of the whole situation. A proper girl would've been out of his bedroom in a second. A proper girl never would've been found in his bedroom in the first place. There really was only one Anna. "I've found out that he's got a problem with the Lees. They tend to intercept his bookies during the races, rob him blind. He doesn't like it one bit."

"Mm," Tommy hummed, still not moving from his bed. While Anna had her eyes closed, he was free to inspect the girl without interruption or awkwardness of getting caught. She was pretty, he had to say. With those full cheeks and lips. Pouty. It was a girlish, delicate kind of beauty. He wasn't for it, but he wasn't against it, either. Anna was prettier than the average girl on the street, but she wasn't his type. Physically. He couldn't deny that she was attractive, though. Still, not his type.

"Are you even getting dressed? Or is this some kink you have going on?" She suddenly asked in the middle of talking about Kimber's beef with the Lees. "I'm not against it, I mean, you're criminally good-looking, but I don't mix business and pleasure. So, if you plan on getting freaky, let's wrap up the work, first."

"Trouble," Tommy flicked her forehead, making her yelp and reach up to rub the spot. "You're trouble incarnate." He swung his legs over the side of his bed, getting up. Anna giggled.

"Cute butt, too," she commented, making Tommy whirl around, only to see her looking over her shoulder at his naked form.

"Oi, eyes to yourself," he huffed. Anna turned around obediently, continuing with her report.

"I heard that Kimber keeps all his documents in a safe," she told him in a calm tone. Tommy quickly pulled on clean underwear and some pants, then turned around. Anna was still obediently facing the wall. "He always carries the key on him, so I couldn't get it. But, there's a party after each race," she commented, shifting to lie down on his bed. "I'm thinking I'll go to one as a guest and rob him blind. I won't stop at his key, but also do a few more wallets, so it looks like a random grab. I'll memorize the important stuff from the safe and copy it for you."

"This weekend there's a race," Tommy told her, walking over to his bed. He saw that she had her eyes closed, still. "Come, do the robbery then."

"Sounds good," she said. "Is there a dress code?"

"Fancy."

"I'll get an identity ready," she opened one eye, peering out. She quickly closed it when she saw Tommy above her. Then, she opened both. "Oh, dressed already. Too bad."

"If you're in need of cock, go to the brothel," he grabbed a cigarette and lit it. Anna sat up on his bed.

"Let a girl admire the view," she pouted at him. "At least you're a good-looking client." She smiled at the way he must've looked uncomfortable by her comment. "C'mon, sweetheart, the eyes, the high cheekbones, you're the local heartthrob, I bet. Plus, a cute butt."

"Piss off," Tommy walked away from her, but she stood and followed.

"Oh, come on, my clients are usually old men," she caught up with him on the way to the kitchen. "They come onto me whenever they can. This is just a bit of harmless commenting, no?"

"It's sexual harassment, that's what it is," he blew smoke her way, making her cough. He grinned at that.

"I'm sure Miss Grace sees it as eye candy," was the cheeky answer he got. He shot her a look, but Anna was immune to it. "Heard you called her a whore."

"She still agreed to go out with me," he boasted back.

"I bet she did," Anna shook her head. She accepted the tea and toast he offered her and they sat down at the kitchen table. "What do you need from Kimber? Where do you need him vulnerable?"

"Anywhere." Anna's eyebrow rose.

"Give me something, at least," she scolded.

"Any digression he might have, I'll take it," Tommy said, glancing at the paper. "Do you know where one could stash a crate full of weapons? Marked and numbered." The girl took a deep breath then expelled it. She didn't seem fazed by his swift change of topics. He liked that about her. The way she accepted the speed at which his brain worked and jogged to keep up.

"No idea," she said, biting into her toast. "Somewhere people don't usually look for stuff like that. No warehouses, no safes, no basements." She seemed to think a moment. "Bury it somewhere, somewhere only you know where it is."

"I'm not going to go dig holes," Tommy grunted. "Nothing can get me in a hole again."

"Then have someone dig it for you," Anna shrugged.

"A secret is best kept if only one person keeps it," Tommy replied and she nodded.

"What if they don't know what they're digging the hole for? A place where holes are normally dug, but for a different purpose?" Tommy smirked. Now that, that was an idea.

He needed a drink. It was pouring outside, but he didn't care. He needed a drink. Or a bottle. Preferably the latter. He knew why he'd needed to put the horse down. He knew exactly why he'd needed to do it. Better put it down than make it suffer. Still, it would come to haunt him. Tommy entered the Garrison only to find it empty. Grace was at the bar, finishing up her day. He asked for whiskey. She gave it to him. Even sat down to keep him company. His mind was reeling, going a mile an hour. He couldn't get that image of the horse, dead in its stall, out of his head. It brought friends with it, of course. The dead horses on the battlefield. The injured ones, whining in pain that had been brought back. The mess. The blood. The explosions. The whispered German. The walls closing in on him. The smell of the earth.

Fucking singing, he didn't give a damn about singing. Still, when Grace sang, he listened. She had a nice voice. It pulled him back in time. Back to the time when the soldiers sang their last comfort songs. When they celebrated living another day only to die the next. The rain tricking down from his hair reminded him of blood. It smelled of blood. The pale hand in his, the girl in the bed dying. A broken heart. His heart had been broken before the War. His mind had been broken in the War. The scent of the earth, all around him. The suffocation of being buried alive.

The door of the Garrison opened with a loud sound. Tommy's head shot up, turning to look at the newcomer. It was Anna, drenched.

"Finally," she huffed, wiping her long hair off her forehead with a wet squelch. It was in its natural color again. She walked over, her shoes making a horrid wet sound as she did. "I'm like a drowned rat. You owe me for this," she said, waving an accusing finger. Somehow, at her lack of decorum, as per usual, Tommy was out of that earth and back in the chair he was actually sitting in. Finally, she realized that she'd interrupted. "Oh, my bad. I'll… come back another time." She nodded to Grace, still perched on the chair, and turned around with another wet sound. Tommy couldn't help it, he laughed. He was aware of the shocked look on Grace's face. "Are you laughing at me, you vile man? After what I did for you?"

"I don't know what you've done, but whatever you did, it's got you in a hilarious state," Tommy wheezed. The horse. The memories. The song. The ridiculous state of his thief. Everything was getting to him, putting him into a hysterical state.

"I swam the canal!" Anna hissed. "I swam the fucking canal for you!" Tommy lost it. He slapped his knee, shaking his head. "You don't deserve me. I swear, you don't deserve a minute of my time!"

"Let's get you dry," he shook his head, getting up. "Singing on Saturdays only," he told Grace, before picking up his cigarettes, lighter, stuffing it all into his wet suit and then placing the drenched cap back on his head. "C'mon drowned rat."

"Fuck you too!" Anna bristled, but followed after him.

Tommy's breath hitched, staying in his lungs. It was hard to breathe. He stared. He knew he was staring. Who wouldn't, after all. Who fucking wouldn't.

Anna made an entrance at the Cheltenham after party, standing at the top of the stairs, attracting almost every gaze of a living and breathing man inside the room. They looked at her with unveiled desire. The women, instead, glanced at her in distaste. She wore white. White and silver. Not the gaudy kind of dress Tommy didn't like, which was all the rage nowadays. She wore a fitted one, tight, which showed off the curve of her breasts and the gentle shape of her hips, before fluttering to the ground in a cascade of silver sparkles. Small silver sparkles. Not the gaudy kind. Her shoulders were covered by a shawl or a part of the dress, he didn't know. But, it didn't hide anything. It was see-through, embroidered something, not glittering. The dress glittered. Her hair was down in ringlets, back in its natural color. Not the new style, nothing modern. This was old fashion. Older than what was popular. It made her stand out strikingly against the other women. Like some Faerie Queene in the midst of mortals. His cigarette fell from his hold and he cursed, hopping up to brush it to the floor and put it out.

Anna descended the stairs, ignoring the attention she was getting. Instead, she headed for the bar. She spoke politely to a number of gentlemen, introducing a fake name, he would bet, before walking over, sitting a few seats down from him.

"Vodka, no ice," there was an accent in her English this time. The barman quickly served her. With grace he didn't know she possessed, she sipped the drink. When she placed the glass down, a red stain from her lipstick remained. The color of blood. She gave him a smirk and a knowing look, and Tommy realized her eyes were very blue. Not the light kind of blue him and his brothers had inherited. But a deep blue, like the ocean. "I'm certain your date would mind the look you're giving me, sir," she whispered huskily in her foreign accent. Tommy managed to gather himself.

"I'm a living man, how could I not look at a pretty lady," he smiled. Anna raised an eyebrow, but didn't reply. "Do you have a date?"

"He will be arriving momentarily," she giggled. "Seems he's been caught by some businessman outside. I don't understand the British, all business, no play."

"I'll dance with you, if you'd like?" Tommy offered. He didn't know what possessed him. Grace had gone to the ladies' room. It would just be a moment. He had a plan. A date. Everything was in order. Why was he asking Anna to dance?

"If you ask me courteously," she smirked, the red on her lips accentuating the poutiness even in that coy smile. "I'm a proper Lady, sir."

"I've never been called ungentlemanly before," Tommy smiled at her dig at him, but stood, abandoning his beer in order to offer his hand properly. "May I have the next dance, m'lady?"

"It would be my pleasure," Anna took his hand, leaving her glass, as well. She'd barely sipped it, Tommy noted. He led them to the center of the dance floor, away from Kimber.

"You look stunning," he complimented as she came close to him for the slow song.

"Thanks," her accent was gone and she sounded a little breathless. "I did my best with the resources available."

"Is that a wedding dress?" Tommy asked, peeking down to see the corset, another aging fashion trend according to Polly. It held Anna's figure perfectly, though, so he didn't understand why the womenfolk would want to get rid of it.

"Yes," she said. "I'll try to mingle later, get the stuff we need," she whispered into his ear. Tommy shivered at the sound and the feel of her breath. Gooseflesh broke out all over his arms and neck.

"I might be gone with Kimber soon," he told her. "Make it quick." A turn and then a gentle dip, then she was back next to his ear.

"Give me time," Anna sternly said. "I need him on the dance floor."

"How long?" The song was ending.

"Half an hour," she whispered.

"Done," Tommy said, letting go of their close embrace. "Thank you for the dance." He bowed in the old way, and she curtsied perfectly back. Anna had some kind of court training, Tommy realized, watching her leave. His eyes were glued on her backside and the sway of her legs as she did.

"Who was that?" Grace had found him on the dance floor. He extended his hand for a dance.

"I'm making friends," he replied evenly. He didn't understand how she hadn't recognized Anna. She'd seen the girl a few times already. Tommy checked his watch. It was almost time. He needed to extend it, for Anna.

"Excuse me," Tommy turned to see Anna standing behind him and Grace, smiling. "I was hoping for another dance, Mr…"

"Shelby," Tommy supplied. "Your partner not indulging you?"

"He's preoccupied," she motioned to the tall, dark-haired man in a suit, surrounded by men, talking passionately about something. "I'm more interesting in enjoying the party and he doesn't seem to want to give me the attention I need." She bent forwards slightly, as if telling them both a secret. "I want to make him jealous."

"How conniving of you," Tommy grinned.

"Do you mind, miss?" Anna turned to Grace with a smile. "I hope I'm not interrupting your outing."

"Not at all," Grace shook her head, though she looked somewhat annoyed to Tommy when he offered Anna his hand.

"I will steal him for one dance, then," Anna gave Grace a nod and allowed Tommy to lead her to the dance floor.

"Trouble?" He asked as soon as they were ear to mouth again.

"The key dislodged and I can't get it back up," Anna hissed into his ear. "I need help," she whispered, sounding ashamed that she was asking.

"Why not ask your partner to help?" Tommy retorted, spinning her around.

"I'll never live it down if he hears the key I'm stealing is down my corset," she whispered with a squeeze of her hand on his. "Will you help me or not?"

"Where?"

"Ladies' room." Anna moved away from him, leading him by the hand towards the opposite side of the room from the bar where Grace was sitting. Tommy managed to catch a glimpse of a man talking to the barmaid in red, but she seemed at ease. He followed Anna. She giggled, pretending to have drunk a bit more than she had. He hadn't seen her take a sip of anything alcoholic since the lick of vodka early on. Her bare hand in his led him towards the ladies' room. When they entered, there were a few girls there, touching up their makeup. They giggled when they saw Anna pull Tommy into a stall. The thief made a show of putting her finger to her mouth and shushing them. It only increased the giggling. The door shut and Tommy found himself trapped incredibly close between the toilet and the girl. She turned her back to him. "The zipper," she whispered, hearing the door open and close. Anna bent down, looking under the stall door. "We're alone," she told him in a normal volume of voice, no accent present. "Get the zipper." Tommy's fingers found the small latch on the top of the low cut dress in the back, sliding it down. His breath hitched at the sight of her pale skin and the corset bound in the back.

"Where did it slide?" He didn't know how his voice didn't break when he asked her.

"Almost all the way to my butt, just fish it out," Anna moved her hair to the side, patiently waiting, holding onto the front of her dress. Tommy undid the laces of the corset quickly, each brush of his fingers against her skin making it harder to think. Then, he slid his hand inside of it, going down. Anna had bent a little forward, to prevent the key from slipping further down, probably. Tommy's hand felt nothing but smooth skin all the way down her back. Then, he felt the top of her buttocks. "To the left a bit." Her words made him focus on the task again. He took a ragged breath, following instructions. His fingers touched the key and he pulled it out. At the loss of contact with her warm, smooth skin Tommy felt robbed himself, but he had a job to do. The key was tiny, on a single silver string.

"Is-" he cleared his throat at the break in his voice, "is this it?" He dangled it over Anna's shoulder.

"Yes," she took it. "Lace me up," she instructed, sounding rather impatient. Right. They were on a timeline. Tommy laced the corset back up, hearing her inhale sharply when he pulled a bit too much on the string.

"Too tight?" He asked, tossing a look at her barely visible profile. Her cheeks were flushed.

"It's good," she nodded. Tommy then zipped her dress back up. That was when he noticed the scar. On her left shoulder, previously hidden by her lace shawl was a scar which ran almost twice the size of his hand to the side. Where her heart was. He didn't ask, just lowered the shawl back over it, hiding it. He stepped back a little, as much as the stall allowed. He was painfully aware of how hard he was at just touching the smooth skin of her back. "Good?"

"Good," he replied breathlessly. Anna turned to him, her hands full of wallets and notes.

"I'm gonna need you to hold onto this shit for a bit," she told him. Without waiting for permission, she opened the top piece of his suit, stuffing some of the things into his inner pockets. Tommy was aware of just how fast and hard his heart was beating. He hoped that she couldn't feel it under her fingers.

"What if they search me on the way out?" Tommy raised an eyebrow, shifting so she wouldn't touch his hard cock in any way during her making him an accomplice to theft.

"I'll take it back before you leave," she said. "I can put those in my purse, but I need to get it from Sasha. Let's go." Anna looked up at him when he didn't move, her brows furrowing. "What's wrong?"

"I'm going to… stay here a moment," Tommy replied uncomfortably. There would be no way to hide what the brief touch of her skin on his hands had done to him if he left now. Anna seemed to understand quickly, looking down to his crotch.

"Well," she smirked. "You can't say I don't go lengths for you," she giggled at him. Then, she maneuvered him to the side, making him lean against the side of the stall. He gasped at the contact with the hard surface. "Just keep quiet," she instructed, collecting her hair and tossing it all down her back.

That's all for now, folks!