She finds it hard to concentrate after that. Daisy is aware of Tommy at all times, when she leans over to brush her breasts lightly against Oscar and whisper in his ear, she is tense because she knows he is watching. Every time she glances over at Sabini, and when he occasionally glances back with astute curiosity, she is aware of his eyes on her. Her smiles are absurdly forced, her posture so tense she's surprised Oscar hasn't picked up on it. She doesn't even pretend to watch the race.

During the races, it gets too much for her and she excuses herself with a stiff grin and a gentle hand on Oscar's face and heads for the bar.

"Another Martini, please," she sighs shakily. She is off her game… how can she expect to capture the attention of Sabini when she's so worried about what Tommy is thinking of her.

"You drink fancy drinks now, eh?" His voice is quiet, attempting to tease but his deep voice lacks the quality of warmth teasing requires. He used to tease her a lot, but evidently time has changed him. War has changed him. "I remember you used to drink whatever cheap beer I put in front of you."

She smiles to the bar in front of her, hiding her face. "I'd have drunk anything you put in front of me."

She hears his small exhalation of breath: a laugh. A Tommy-Shelby-laugh.

She thanks the bartender for her drink and stirs it gently with her finger as she smiles nostalgically. "Do you remember that time you got me so drunk I accidentally fell over onto Polly?"

He is close to her now, and she can almost feel his warmth against her back.

"You were a sight to see, Daisy Smith."

I squealed loudly as I landed abruptly onto an astonished Polly, who only raised an unamused eyebrow at me and continued smoking.

"Sorry Aunt Pol!" I shout obnoxiously, knowing that she hated me calling her Aunt Polly, as though I were family. She had accepted me into their group, but I knew that she didn't trust me at all. I was a guest, never family, to her. She made it clear, too.

"Let's get you home, Daisy Smith."

I looked up drunkenly, hiccoughing and smiling happily. "Tommy! I f-fell over!"

He smiled indulgently at me, wrapping his arm firmly around my waist and helping me up. "You're a mess." He didn't mean it, I knew. He'd just never seen me drunk before.

"I don't wanna-" I hiccough again, "-go home." I gasped as though something exciting had occurred to me, when in reality… "Joe might really do me in this time if he sees me like this."

I felt his body tense and his hand curl even tighter around my waist. "I didn't mean the orphanage Dais, I meant home with me."

I smiled and leaned wonkily into his ear and whispered, "So you can have your wicked way with me?"

He laughed freely at that, ducking his head down and nodding it a little. "Expect nothin' less."

I giggled loudly at his reply and leaned by head on his shoulder heavily. I sighed with a smile. "I love you Thomas Shelby."

As he always did whenever I told him that, he simply kissed the top of my head and tightened his grip on me. Even in my inebriated state, I found that I didn't mind that he didn't say it back. I knew he loved me; he'd just never loved anyone before. He didn't know what to make of the emotion.

When he got me home and I collapsed onto his bed with a thud, I felt him taking my shoes off and start working on my mess of curls that had been pinned up. Eyes closed, I simply moaned a little as his fingers started working through my scalp, massaging the tender parts where the pins had been. He was thoughtful like this when he didn't think anyone would notice. He'd do it in public too, standing up so I could sit down, getting me my favourite drink without me asking, rubbing my feet when he knew I'd been on them all day… Just little things that we never spoke about, but things that made me fall in love with him all the more.

I rolled over sleepily, staring at him through half-closed drunken eyes. "You love me too, you know."

I saw his smile slightly as he sat down on the edge of the bed and took his shoes off too. "Is that so?" He said it distractedly, but I knew he cared. He cared about me and my feelings too much to be indifferent to this conversation.

"Mmm," I hummed as I started unbuttoning my shirt. His half-twisted head turned fully towards me and his eyes moved from my own to the expanses of skin that were being uncovered. As always, he watched me intently, and I loved every second of it, even in my half asleep state. "You looooooove me! Love love love me—" I cut off in a scream since he decided that was a good time to launch himself at me and start kissing his way around my neck and tickling my sides. That sobered me up pretty fast, but not nearly as much as him having his wicked way with me afterwards… just as he'd promised.

She turns and looks up at him with her heart beating just a little faster as that memory slides though her mind, and as she does, she noticed he is looking at her fondly, like he used to, as though he too is lost in the memory of that night. He is so close to her, too close for acquaintances, too close for even a couple in a public space such as this. Nobody should see them together, especially not Sabini… he couldn't know that they knew each other; she may be a whore but she didn't need to give Sabini any reason to distrust her.

They were both silent for a few moments, lost in their thoughts when he spoke quietly to her. "It's strange seeing you like this. You're so different…"

She swallows shakily. "It's an act."

He nods, and her posture relaxes a little. "I know, I can tell."

"Good," she responds with a nod, feeling shy and awkward and she's not sure why. "I wouldn't want you to feel like…what we had…" She's not sure how to go on, not sure why she brought it up at all.

"I'm sorry about what I said that day, Daisy," he tells her softly, barely moving his lips. She feels like they're in their own little bubble and nothing and nobody can reach them.

"It's okay."

He simply stands right in front of me, staring deep into my eyes as though they'll give him answers that I would tell him willingly if he only asked me them. The longer he looks, the softer his face becomes, the hard lines vanishing and the coldness in his mesmerising eyes thawing out. He is looking at me like I am his lover again, like I was the only person in the world that he laughed so freely with, that he held with such tenderness and treated me like a treasure rather than the poor, dirty, uneducated little girl that everyone else saw me as.

She swallows thickly, feeling her heart melt slightly. He can't go from calling her a whore to this. Though, they have both had weeks to come to terms with being in each other's lives again. She has made the decision to fight for him, and with the way he is looking at her, she can't help but wonder if he has accepted her into his life too. "Don't look at me like that."

Another man might've teased, "Like what?" but Tommy Shelby isn't another man. He doesn't say anything, just continues to look at her like he used to. She wants to lean into him, to lay a hand on him, touch him in any way she can, she wants to kiss him senseless and laugh with him again. But war changed them, and they both made mistakes that have led them to this moment and they can't go back.

But maybe, just maybe, they'll move forwards.

But not here where anybody can see them.

"Will you—" She starts, but her nerve gives out halfway. She wants to see him later, wants him to come to her apartment and continue looking at her like he is right now some more. "Come and see me later." She turns it from a question into a statement, trying to seem braver than she feels. "We need to continue our discussion from before." Before Grace interrupted us, she doesn't add. She doesn't want to think about Grace right now. She doesn't want to think about other girls he's been with, he's loved. She could handle sex, after all who is she to talk, but the idea of him loving another woman… that hurts.

Laying on his chest, our sticky skin touching, I couldn't help but mutter, "I love you Tommy Shelby," for the second time that day. Our sex had sobered me up and right then I just wanted to be with him like that forever: quiet, peaceful, playful, loving, caring. Happy. So so happy.

I heard him swallow, and felt his deep breath. We weren't teasing anymore, and I could tell he hated not saying it back. "Daisy—"

"I know you won't say it back," I told him quickly before he could ruin this moment. He did love me and knowing that was enough. "Just… if you can't say it to me, you can't say it to any other girls, okay?"

I heard his smile and felt the relaxation in his body. Clearly grateful I hadn't pushed the subject, he wound one of his arms around me tighter and trailed his fingertips up and down my back gently with the other. "Who else is gonna love me, Daisy Smith?"

I pressed a kiss to his chest, squeezing his waist a little. "You underestimate yourself."

He laughed at that, the movement jostling me slightly and I smiled right along with him. "No one will love me like you do." He sounded almost proud of that fact, as though the love of a poor, stupid girl was something unique to treasure. "But I'll be sure to not say it to all my other girls too."

He so rarely joked that when he did it felt almost like a gift. God I loved him.

Putting on a pretence of shock, I slap his chest lightly and lightning fast, he flips us over and starts kissing his way down my neck, to my chest, saying my name over and over like a prayer.

He looks hesitant for a moment, stepping back a little as though her words bring him out of a stupor. He sighs a little, slicking his hair back in an almost nervous gesture. "If that's what you want, Daisy."

She nods twice, firmly and surely. "It is."

He nods in reply, straightening his jacket and taking yet another step back. The further back he gets from her, the more she remembers that she needs to be Fleur right now. She needs to get back to work.

So she clears her throat and puts on a flirtatious smile. "I'll see you later."

Right as she walks past him, she thinks he'll ignore her and let her go back to Oscar, but instead he grabs her wrist at the last minute and pulls her back to him so his mouth is right by her ear and nobody else can hear them. "When I saw you that day, I couldn't see a trace of you. The real you. But today-" He pauses, letting go of her and pulling out a cigarette. He doesn't finish his sentence, just inhales and exhales deeply. "I'll see you later, Daisy Smith."

Her knees wobble on the walk back to Oscar and she forgets to clock Sabini to see if he is looking at her again. Her heart is singing too wildly in her chest to notice anything. Hope, hope, it beats, it cries.

If that is not progress, she does not know what is, and she cannot wait for this evening.

Hope.

I can't thank you all enough for the lovely reviews you have been leaving. They truly make my day!