Racing from the Cut, away from cool sprinkles of water and piercing blue eyes, Greta didn't care if her parents heard the door fly open or her footsteps pounding on the stairs. She climbed into bed and pulled the covers over her head.

Kitty, having been disturbed from much needed sleep after hours squinting down at stitches, shot up and inspected the panting lump beside her. "Greta?" She put her hand on what she thought was her sister's head. "What happened?"

The blanket lifted and, with a long-suffering sigh, Kitty scooted underneath to their secret spot. Even in the darkness beneath the covers, Kitty could sense her little sister's worries.

"What's wrong?"

Greta stayed silent, chasing after her breath and trying to find the right words. "There's a boy," she finally admitted.

"All this over a boy! At this hour?" Kitty began to lift her head out to the cool pillow but was promptly pulled back. Exhausted and longing for sleep, she huffed but allowed Greta another chance to continue.

"He's kind," Greta bemoaned.

"Then what's the problem?"

The youngest Jurossi huffed, stilling under the covers while her older sister waited expectantly. "He's too nice. He's trying to trick me."

Kitty snorted in bleary-eyed amusement. Leave it to Greta to be suspicious of nice boys. "What nice things has he done?"

There was another bout of silence. "He…" Greta had already prefaced the nice part, now she had to tiptoe around the part where Tommy brought his gang to take down Antonio Erice in front of the family shop. Kitty would pitch a fit at any implication of gangsters or fighting. She would immediately dislike Tommy, and Greta was smart enough to skip to new words. "He kept someone from stealing cigarettes," was her carefully crafted response.

"He's visiting the shop?" Kitty hissed under her breath and, in a voice much like their mother's, she continued, "Margherita, you be careful with strange boys. If ma hears about this she'll — "

" Shh ! Don't be so loud!" Needing time to think of another angle to pitch Tommy to her sister, Greta's mind whizzed. "I like him." The words tumbled off her tongue and a jolt of fire sparked in her belly. She liked him.

Then why did she leave him at the Cut?

Greta didn't leave the house after that. The flame of first attraction in her chest was as debilitating as it was thrilling. She was burdened with existing in the torturous feeling for three weeks before Tommy finally showed up himself.

One minute Greta looked out into an empty street and the next minute Tommy Shelby - the blue-eyed bastard - was stepping up to the door and pushing it in. She froze mid-count in front of the racks of wine, immediately losing her place and not caring if the numbers were off when her mother verified the stock later on.

"Is this a bad time?" Tommy asked nervously at the bewildered look on her face.

Greta pointed to the wine, "I'm counting." Alarm bells rattled off in her brain. That was a stupid thing to say! Save it! Say something better, you idiot! "No, no," she stammered, "it's not a bad time."

Tommy couldn't help the way his mouth curled upwards into a smile. She was flustered to see him. It wasn't the angry kind of flustered. Tommy was very familiar with angry flustering - Polly was the best at it and did it each day he arrived home past midnight. "I brought you this."

From his back pocket he pulled out a handful of wildflowers.

Greta could hardly contain her bewilderment now. Flowers! He brought her flowers! They were ugly flowers. But he saw them and plucked them and kept them safe until he could see her. Heat rose to her cheeks as she reached out.

"It's some herbs for your dad." Tommy tried to smother the elation in his chest when her fingers brushed past his as she took the flowers. "You said he was in pain, and these will help. Just mash it into a paste." He was trying to repeat everything Birdie had instructed him but in a way that would make Greta think he knew first.

Greta stood waiting for a moment. "Mash it into a paste and then what?"

Fuck! He'd forgotten. "Erm." Tommy rubbed his neck sheepishly, throwing his attention around the little shop in hopes it would jumpstart his memory.

"It might be helpful if you remembered," she teased with a shy smile. "You came all this way."

The way she said it, in that light voice that revealed there was so much more teasing she wanted to do but didn't feel comfortable just yet, made Tommy's heart skip a beat. He wanted to lean over and kiss her, just to see her reaction. Maybe she'd get angry. Maybe she'd hide a smile in her shoulder and shoo him back into the streets. Maybe, just maybe, she'd kiss him back.

But they were standing in her father's shop in front of the wide display windows. Tommy was too nervous to make a move and Greta was too shy to expect it.

It's no trouble , his cautious brain prepared to say. What came out though was more truthful. "Anything for you."

Greta's large eyes widen in surprise. Boys didn't talk to her like this. Boys didn't talk to her at all! Suspicion began to take hold again. Instead of running away (like she did last time), Greta allowed the discomfort to take hold and fought against it a little more. If she fought back against it, she might be able to keep him around longer.

"Could you help me reach something, then?"

Tommy nodded, following close on her heels to the back corner of the shop where tall storage shelves lining the walls. Greta pointed up the top shelf.

"There. I need that packet of soaps to restock. It's too high for me to reach even with the stool."

She didn't and it wasn't.

Dutifully, and eager to please, Tommy stepped up on the stool, reached his arm out, and easily took hold of the bulging packet. He held it close, hoping her fingers would brush against his again.

Greta smiled and looked away as she took the package. This time their fingers didn't touch and both were equally disappointed by it. "Thanks."

"Margherita?"

They spun around to the steps leading up to the Jurossi's living quarters. Tommy snatched his cap from his skull, careful to keep his fingers from the razor, and wrung it between his suddenly sweaty hands. If it was her mother, he wanted to make a good first impressions.

Much to Greta's relief, it was just Kitty.

Kitty peered into the shop with shock clear on her face to see how close her sister stood to that lanky, dusty boy. With a stupid look on her face, no less!

"Kitty," Greta forced an embarrassed smile and stepped further away from Tommy. "This is Tommy. Tommy, this is my sister, Kitty."

In a split second, Tommy had shaken off the infatuated boyishness. He reached out with a firm hand and a charming smile.

"I just stopped by to give Greta some herbs," he formally explained. "She said your father was sick. Just mash the petals into a paste and mix it in with water each morning on an empty stomach. It should help with the discomfort."

That came out easier the second time around, Tommy thought in relief. Hopefully it was natural enough to impress Greta and Kitty both.

"Nice to meet you, Thomas," Kitty, prim and proper as always, shook his large hand with her significantly smaller one. She turned to her sister. "Ma wants you to close up early to help with dinner."

"I have to finish taking stock," Greta tried directing her sister's attention to the bottles of wine but her own eyes were distracted by Tommy's profile.

Kitty noticed the doe-eyed way her baby sister looked up at Tommy. It was an endearing sight. Tommy was nice, which Kitty had expected. What she hadn't expected was the way this nice boy was looking at her sister. There was no hidden intentions or vulturous stares. He didn't eye Greta up and down like a bonbon or stare at her lips like something he wanted to taste. Tommy was just admiring.

"You can do it tomorrow." Kitty gestured her up towards their living quarters. "Off you go."

Greta gave Tommy an apologetic look and walked him to the door. Her fingers fiddled with the locks. She didn't want him to go. She liked him! "I guess I'll see you later."

"Yeah. You'll see me later," Tommy said, leaning in to cheekily add, "Margherita."

Once the door was locked and Greta met her older sister on the bottom step with a blush tinting her cheeks, Kitty smiled and said,

"You're right. He is nice."