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sl-newsie · 11 months ago
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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Masterlist
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Summary: (Begins at season 1) A young American woman accidently gets lost and left behind during her family trip in England. Now she's left alone in the sketchy town of Birmingham. What will happen when she meets a family rumored to be full of notorious and dangerous gangsters? Warnings: swearing, inappropriate language, guns, suggested sexual content, spoilers
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setbw4u · 1 year ago
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Discover Serenity and Relief: Charelton's Healing with Massage Therapy in Winnipeg
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jdelarroz · 5 years ago
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Changing Comic Culture One Step At A Time
I’m a fan of the classic pulps, having studied what made our American culture so great in the first half of the 20th century, which then declined as the entertainment industry became weaponized as a political tool. Normal people, consequently, exited culture, which led to its slow spiral which started in the 60s, but reached its apex in poor quality in the 90s-2000s, where the culture collapsed and never recovered.
Books went from selling millions to selling thousands. People stopped seeing movies. People stopped reading comics and they became a niche market. You know the drill if you’ve read along.
Both the content and the business models have been failures from the mainstream industry, and it’s why I’ve spent time on my last several projects doing something different.
My work on Dynamite Thor was a study of a golden age character, redoing a hero as an actual hero, adding humor to comics, making comics fun again. It highlighted that 1950s Americana which we lost as a culture.  It may have seemed an esoteric concept to pursue, but it was a great work and test as a writer to learn to revitalize.
Another area where I’ve found needing revitalization is short comics. I started and continue to release them on my Patreon as I get them done after reading wonderful works by Steve Ditko in a Masters of Suspense compilation. I reviewed the book here:
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Back when comics were a thriving industry, Marvel, Charelton Comics, EC, and others had magazines every month dedicated to shorts. They’d make punchy, witty, concepts and really exercise the mind creatively by doing different things — Jack Kirby even made romance comics into something super popular.
All of these had short concepts, packing a ton of story into 5 or 10 pages. Each story had something wildly different than the next. They made for incredibly refreshing reads.
This is what inspired me to do shorts on my patreon, which I’ve been coming out with and producing monthly in conjunction with my regular comics.
With the quarantine, I figure it’s best to get those out to a bigger and wider audience, so I compiled what I have to date into Spectacular Comics #1. This book has a little of everything — cute wholesome stories, horror, samurai, I wanted to use my comic storytelling to try something different each time, and with short comics it gives me more luxury to follow the creative instinct.
It’s already at #3 on Amazon and has three 5-star reviews. This is a great comic to bring back classic-style culture and you’ll really enjoy it. The print edition is “processing” right now so I’m just waiting on it to go live, but you can get Spectacular Comics and make comics great again on kindle for only $3.99.
Read today, and see why short comics are so fun!
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sl-newsie · 1 month ago
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Just finished watching all of Peaky Blinders. It took less than a year. It's been quite a journey, and it's bittersweet to think that there's no more until the movie comes out.
And now to begin the popular custom of rewatching old shows rather than testing out new ones! 🚬
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sl-newsie · 8 days ago
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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 53: Gambling Lives
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Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share
As dreary as this hospital might appear at first, it’s a freaking miracle compared to the gossipy office. As I strut down the hall I make a mental note to tell Thomas that I will no longer be submitting myself to working there. I am going to do as my job entails and make foreign business trips. If only this bloody vendetta could get cleared up! Not that anyone would tell me right away if anything’s changed.
“Hello, Michael,” I greet and shut the door. “Still sore?”
The young man waves from where he’s sitting at the table, reviewing records. “I feel better but they’re making me stay longer to be sure. Mum’s work, I imagine. How’s Tommy?”
The recollection of today’s planned luncheon draws out more dark thoughts. “In a bit of a pickle. Right now they’re-”
The door opens again and a nurse pokes her head in. She heads for Michael’s satchel.
Michael’s brow furrows and reaches to stop her. “What are you doing-?”
The nurse shoves him to the floor and in a split second I see the reason why: Michael’s gun. She wants to disarm him! I lunge to block her but she whacks me over the head with a medicine tray. In a dizzy state I look up see a sharp-dressed man in a fedora waiting outside.
Bam!
Who’s shot?! Michael’s not. I’m not. Then- The man from earlier is lying dead on the floor. Who shot the gunman? 
“Michael!” I gasp, holding my head and spitting out some blood as I crawl over to help him to his bed.
A new man stands guard by the door, while another one examines us with shifty eyes. It’s no secret that he’s part of the cause that wants us dead. Dark hair, olive skin, pointed nose, spiffy gray suit, black overcoat and fedora, a match in his mouth. Everything about him screams Italian- 
“Uh uh uh,” he tsks as he points to the hat lying on Michael’s cot. “Where I’m from, a hat on the bed… Unlucky. My family… Say it brings death.”
He moves closer and all I can think of is how quickly I might be able to retrieve my pistol before he can.
“Maybe that’s what happened,” the man murmurs, staring straight at Michael. “Last time my men were sent to you, you got lucky.” 
The memory of John sends anger pulsing through me. That son-of-a-! If I can just reach my- Oh God!
He pulls a pistol from his coat pocket and presses the barrel to Michael’s forehead. Thump! Thump! Thump! Oh God, how is this happening?! What can I-?
“Now… Your luck’s run out.” He cocks the gun and gives me a side glance. “Try anything and your brains will paint the wall too.”
Michael squeezes his eyes closed. “It’s over…”
This can’t be right!
Click.
Was that a misfire? The gun clicks, but no bullet is fired. The gangster slowly lowers the gun down Michael’s nose and away from his face. Michael, having just escaped death again, stands frozen in shock while the man backs out with an expressionless face.
“And tell your mother we have a deal,” he concludes before exiting along with his counterpart.
Deal? He made a deal... If a deal can be made to spare Michael's life then maybe-
“Wait. Wait! Michael, I will be right back.” I sit him down and sprint out to catch up. “Wait!”
The taller gangster goes to reach for his gun but his boss holds up a hand to stop him. He waits for me to reach them and looks me up and down, having an expression that looks much too friendly for someone who almost just committed murder.
“You must be Ms. Steenstra. Glad to finally meet you in person. What can I do for you?”
I swallow my nerves. Get it right. This is for your family. There’s no going back.
“Am I right to assume that I am in the presence of Mr. Luca Changretta?”
The gangster tips his hat. “Indeed you are. But I will not discuss the matter of the Shelbys with you.”
“I understand. I’m not here to ask about that. I’m here to discuss my own family.”
This surprises Changretta. Like I just asked him to forget about a small detail. 
“I’ve heard many things about you, Ms. Steenstra. You have quite the family ties.”
I bring my hands together and lower my head. “Please, Mr. Changretta, please cancel the hit on my family. I swear they have no part in the White Hand. None of us.”
Changretta hums. “Then how do you explain Edmond Colon?”
“He is family. But us Steenstras in America are not connected to his mob business.” I harness the courage to look up at him directly with my own determined glare. “I know you are proud of your heritage, as am I. Please just let my father run his brewery in peace.”
The gangster doesn’t answer. He, like Thomas, merely looks me over expecting me to demand more. When I don’t he looks down to play with a ring on his finger. A family ring, no doubt.
“When you first came here, did these Brits harass you because of our part in the war?”
I shake my head. “No. If they would have tried then I would’ve given them a piece of my mind.”
Changretta smirks and causes the match in his mouth to wave up and down. “You are a remarkable American woman, Ms. Steenstra. If only your Irish relatives weren’t giving us so much trouble. By the way, my condolences for Ragtime Joe Howard.”
The building hatred for this and all mafia business tugs at my heart. “His name was Joseph Howard. He made his choice to be in the mafia. Just like you.”
“And you,” Changretta comments and gestures to me. “Mr. Shelby mentioned you when I spoke with him. Why is an innocent woman like yourself caught up with the Peaky Blinders?”
I think that’s the question we’re all asking. A question I may not even know how to answer.
“Moral obligation. I owe them a debt.”
“I see. Then may I offer that we respect each other’s wishes and walk away. You fulfill your debt and I will lift the hit.” Changretta sees my confusion and explains further. “Meaning I will lift the hit on your family. But my arrangement with Mrs. Gray will continue.” 
His words to Michael ring clear as a bell. “What arrangement?”
“That is between Mrs. Gray and me,” Changretta says before tipping his hat in parting and following his partner to the back door. “Ciao.”
Did that just happen? Did I just single-handedly negotiate my family out of a vendetta? Thank God! I just had my first encounter with an Italian mob leader and no one died! There’s still the matter of Polly’s arrangement. But that can wait for now. What I know now is that I can sleep at night knowing my family is safe!
“Michael!” I gasp and rush back to his room. “Are you alright?”
He blankly looks between me and the floor. “What just happened?”
Thud! The door bursts open, letting in Thomas, Arthur, and Finn. They scan the room for threats, as well as examine the fresh corpse outside.��
“Michael! What happened, eh?” Thomas pants and looks anxiously between us.
“They heard you coming,” Michael says softly. “The gun misfired. They ran away.”
I frown at his explanation. Why is he lying? At the mention of the intruders, two Blinders race out the door and Thomas interrogates us further.
“You alright?” Thomas kneels next to me and feels me up and down, looking for any wounds.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I assure him.
Do not think about how warm his hands are, Verena. Do not! Should I tell him about what just happened?
“Verena!” Finn cries and pulls me into a hug. “Thank God you’re safe.”
“I don’t know where they’re going-”
“Mr. Gold will take care of ‘em,” Thomas says, his eyes never leaving me. Almost like he's afraid I'll disappear. “I have to make a call. Stay with Michael, Verena.”
For the next hour I stay cooped up in the hospital room with Blinders guarding from all sides. I appreciate the gesture for safety, but… I’m in the clear. It feels so relieving! Should I tell someone? It’s not like Michael told the entire truth either.
“Why didn’t you tell them?” I ask him once Arthur and Finn leave.
“Why didn’t you?” Michael reasons back. “What did you do, Verena?”
“I- I… I made sure my family is safe.”
“And what does that mean?” A new voice asks. It’s Polly. Wonderful! Now we can figure out what this ‘deal’ is.
“I convinced Mr. Changretta that my family has no part in this. He believed me.”
The Gypsy woman lights a cigarette and smiles at me. “You have a gift, love. You know how to negotiate with even the most stubborn men.”
Michael clears his throat. “He spared me. He said ‘tell your mum that we have a deal.’ What deal, mum?”
Yes. We’re all dying to know.
Polly takes another puff. “A deal to spare your life.”
Michael is not at ease, and neither am I. “In return for what?”
“Men don’t have the strategic intelligence to conduct war between families. You saw this yourself, Verena. Men are less good at keeping secrets out of their lives.”
Michael puts something together. “You agreed to give up Tommy? To save my life?”
“You did what?” I bark and stand up to face her.
Polly keeps calm. “Tommy’s different. The rest need to be spared.”
“A life is still a life, Polly Gray! Family is family! We do not pick and choose family.” 
“You never forgave him, did you?” Michael asks darkly.
Polly leans in closer. “We’re out of our league.”
Michael shakes his head. “No. Verena’s right. We don’t do that to our own.”
“Think,” Polly urges. “If it wasn’t for me you’d be smoke blowing out of a mortuary chimney.” She looks at me. “And your family might have still been at risk.”
My eyes narrow. “I don’t need your help. I handled my family’s dilemma all on my own. And I did it without harming anyone.”
“What’s to stop us from telling him?” Michael asks openly. Yeah! What will stop us?
Polly points a finger at both of us. “You’ll do no such thing, Michael. You too, Verena. This is my business.”
Smack! I suck in my tongue and pivot to walk out the door. First Thomas keeps secrets, now Polly too? The Hell with this! Maybe it’s the confidence from my meeting with Changretta but I might have my own ace up my sleeve.
I reach the phone and pick up the receiver. “Hello. This call is to be kept confidential. May I please be put through to Edmond Colon, Blood Stoney Road?”
“One moment, please.”
A few more clicks and I hear a familiar laugh. “Hello, Uncle Colon. It’s Verena. I need to ask a favor.”
Time to take matters into my own hands. It’s time for some American reinforcement.
@meadows5
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sl-newsie · 29 days ago
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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 48: Vulnerable
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Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share
(Warning: mention of nudity)
The next day brings more clouds and a chilly cold snap. I will say it’s interesting to see the neighboring families celebrate their Boxing Day traditions through the window. The Shelbys must not do so much, either that or their festivities have been canceled due to John’s untimely death. And to top it off, Liam graces me with another phone call. This time with bad news from our side of the pond.
“Oh my God.”
Thomas, having just woken up, pokes his head out of his room. “What is it?”
One thing my eyes have to notice is his bare neck. Is he completely bare? Do not stare. Do not stare. There are far more important matters at hand.
“I just got off the phone with my broer Liam. There’s been an attack at home. You’ve heard of the White Hand? The gang Uncle Colon’s involved with?”
“Yeah.”
“The story goes that Wild Bill Lovett, their leader, was replaced by his brother-in-law Richard ‘Peg Leg’ Lonergan. After he took over, the gang’s become a shell of what it used to be. Far less organized.” Thomas gets the point so I stop rambling. “Anyways, back in Brooklyn there’s a popular joint called the Adonis Social Club. Last night Peg Leg showed up drunk and the Italians didn’t take it well. There was a gunfight. Now they’ve taken the waterfront.”
If this keeps up, Uncle Colon won’t be able to use Brooklyn's hidden trading port. Which means vader will have to import liquor from someplace in Canada where alcohol is legal.
However, Thomas’ first question is not about business. “Did you know anyone who was killed?”
I have to replay his words again and nod. “Joseph Howard. Or as he was known, ‘Ragtime Joe Howard.’ My family didn’t mind if I hung around the Italian neighborhood as long as there were no mafia members around. Joseph and I were friends as kids but he wanted more of the mob life.”
Thomas wants to come closer but is still indecent to do so. His head vanishes for a split second and he returns with a bathrobe draping his toned frame. Moeder would be furious if she were to know I was this close to an improperly dressed man. But my mind looks beyond the giddy thoughts of a teenager and instead stresses further about my family back home.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Thomas says softly. There is far too much death in this life.
I have to squeeze my eyes shut to keep from bursting into anxious tears. “‘S not just that. Capone has always hated the Irish mob. Even though we’re not officially part of it, my family is still at risk. When he sees my connection to your vendetta, my family is going to have a hit put on them. Every one of us.”
Thomas grabs my clenched hands and waits until I look up with teary eyes to speak.
“If I could I’d send people to go protect them. I know you want to be with them, Verena. If I were you I’d want to be with my family too. But it’s still too dangerous. Like you said, the mafia will notice you’re involved with our family. It’s safer for everyone if we all stick together. If Changretta ever makes contact I swear I will speak to him about your family.”
My eyes widen. “That could make things worse! If they know you value my family then they might do the same thing they plan to do to yours.”
Thomas lets out a sharp sigh. “Let’s just worry about one thing at a time, love. The meeting’s in half an hour, maybe our questions can be solved through that. Just be patient with me, eh?”
I swallow heavily and nod to show I understand. Thomas nods in return, slowly releases my hands, and walks back to his room. No words can describe how conflicted I am. I came here to mend bridges and instead this vendetta keeps burning them. As much as part of me wants to help Thomas and be with the others while they mourn John, I cannot ignore the calling of my own family. Liam sounded so worried. No, my life is not worth all of theirs. But if being tied to the Shelbys is going to pin them to a death threat then how am I supposed to bargain my life?
“Veena!” Charlie sprints into the hall. “Can we hide and seek again?”
I hastily wipe away my unshed tears and force a smile. “I thought you’d have figured out all the hiding places by now, Charlie.”
“No! I’ve still got ideas.”
I follow him to the parlor and take a seat on the sofa. “Alright, then. I’ll start counting.”
Charlie shakes his head. “That’s okay. You can hide first. One. Two. Three…”
Oh! He’s not giving me a head start. I dash out of the room and start to rack my brain for a place to hide. Unlike Charlie I do not have the advantage of being able to squeeze into such small spaces. My best places have been on high shelves and underneath folded bedding in closets. 
I carefully tiptoe to Thomas’ room. Is he still in the bathroom? Would he mind if I popped in to hide? Surely Charlie will discover me here in a matter of minutes so there shouldn’t be any harm. 
“Here I come!”
No time to wait! I quietly turn the doorknob and sneak into the dimly lit room. In the corner I spot a large armchair that’s the perfect size to hide behind-
Then I hear the sound of water. Why is there water here-? Oh my God.
Thomas is in here. Lying in a tub, smoking a cigarette, staring at the ceiling. Completely bare. 
He obviously saw me come in but raises no alarm to my intrusion. Or the fact that I’ve disturbed him in such a state.
My face turns bright pink but the absence of light does well to hide my shock. 
“Oh! I’m so sorry- I’m just- It’s my turn to hide, and-”
“‘S alright,” Thomas replies nonchalantly and takes a puff on his cigarette. How is he so calm?! “Not the first person to see me.”
Yes. See him. All of him. This is the first time my virgin eyes have seen a man who is not part of my family. As a logical person, I can see how Thomas’ toned figure can cause him to be intimidating and ready for a fight. As a curious woman, I cannot stop the natural reaction that I’m certain all women have from Thomas. It’s no wonder why he’s so cocky- figuratively and literally. Half of me wants to look away shamefully while the other half wants to memorize this vulnerable moment in great detail. His eyes still hold the burdens of ten men. 
What intrigues me most are his tattoos. The dark markings stand out against his pale, wet skin. The only person I know of in my family who has one is Uncle Colon. A Celtic cross on his wrist, similar to the one on my pendant. The idea of tattoos is completely obscure from the rest of my family. I almost want to ask if each of Thomas’ tattoos have a special meaning.
But my mind is far too flustered and embarrassed to think of anything other than immediately getting out of here.
“Right. Um- I’ll just go hide somewhere else-”
“Found you!”
Charlie’s sudden entrance startles me and I nearly tumble backwards into the dresser. The small boy laughs at my clumsiness but then lets out a big yawn.
“Did you wake up too early?” I ask in a pointed tone, putting my hands on my hips and trying to forget my embarrassment.
Charlie gets a sheepish look. “I couldn’t sleep.”
I glance back at Thomas, who gives me a look that says Charlie is at the age when he has no normal sleep schedule. No wonder Thomas has been stressed from little sleep too.
“Well then, how about you take a nap while your daddy and I go to a meeting in the parlor?” I usher him to the creaky bed and start to tuck him in, despite his look of protest. “Trust me Charlie, it’s going to be so dull. So much talking.”
He scrunches his nose at the thought and yawns again. Within a few minutes Charlie’s already fallen asleep.
Knock knock. 
Lord, now who is it?
“Tommy,” Michael’s muffled voice comes from the other side of the door. “They’ve gathered.”
This is happening so soon. Thomas doesn’t give any verbal reply. He just sighs and takes a drink, eyes still on the ceiling. I think I’m slowly growing used to seeing him without clothes.
I approach from behind. “Would you like me to go out first? Try to calm the approaching storm?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Thomas mutters and finally looks up to see the concern painted on my face, a trait he matches with his own. “Thank you for being here. You’re not family but you're still here.”
“John reminded me of my own broers. I grieve for him too.” Thomas starts to get up and I turn my head to offer privacy; although he clearly pays no thought to that. Something else I notice is that he has nothing laid out to wear. “Would you like a robe?”
At first I think Thomas will take advantage of the situation to mock my modest character or reprimand me for not knocking earlier. Instead of being stunned or ashamed he walks around with a stance that says he doesn’t mind being clothless. Almost as if he’s daring me to look at him. Deep down I feel grateful for the unspoken trust he's placed in me. Not only to see him like this but to also accept his fear of facing his family.
“A towel, please,” Thomas requests kindly, as if asking for a cup of tea.
Makes sense. I’ve already seen him. Why cover up now?
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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 44: Season's Greetings
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December 24, 1925
Liverpool Docks
“Ready, Ada?”
Ada wraps her fox fur coat around her shoulders to combat the cold wind. “Are you? It’s been a whole year since you’ve seen Tommy.”
We climb inside the Bently waiting for us. There’s so many nerves bottled up inside I feel like I’m about to burst. My broers’ last words still have me wondering if I’m making the right choice.
“I pray these months haven’t changed him too much.” 
“I’m staying with Polly. Would you like to drive with me to John’s to drop off some presents? I’m checking in on Arthur too.”
I stare through the window at the wandering people. “Actually I’m going straight to the office to settle some questions I have. You can go on ahead. I’ll visit John later.”
Throughout the whole drive to Birmingham Ada and I go back and forth discussing last-minute details from the Boston docks. However, my mind cannot stop drifting to think about seeing Thomas again. Last time I was so close. So close to telling him everything. I know expecting him to wait is completely ridiculous. Maybe that’s why the excitement of coming back is stained by the fear that my absence will have caused him to be forgetful of me.
The car stops outside a new building I’ve never seen before. 
“This must be the new office,” Ada says. “Are you still going to the Christmas party?”
“Yes. I’ll tell John I’ll be there.” 
I grab my trunk and step out into the muddy streets. December in England is so much more wet than in Brooklyn. Where’s the snow? I walk into the first room and spot Lizzie behind a desk. When she sees me her eyes flash the familiar look of hatred.
“Season’s greetings, Lizzie. What should I expect?”
She gives a small huff and returns to checking the records. “He’s isolated himself from the family. ‘S just been him and Charlie.” I walk past her to a staircase and she speaks up again. “Oh, by the way, the only love he’s received is from whores. Thought you should know.”
Sure. She can think I’ll believe that. As much as my heart might fall for Thomas there is still a part of me that dreads to know that he still takes physical pleasures from other women. My only guess is that I have to become as corrupt and defiled as the rest for him to consider me. May might be right. I’m too pure for this.
Michael walks through a door and sees me climbing up. “Oh! Tommy didn’t say you were coming.”
My face brightens. “Michael! I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you all were pardoned-”
He holds a hand up to stop me and offers to help me with my trunk. “It’s alright, Verena. You’ve helped keep the business flowing smoothly. All’s well in Boston, I hope?”
“Business is booming. How’s Polly?”
Michael’s smile drops. “Not as good. She’s addicted to tablets from the prison. Going off her rocker, to tell you the truth.”
Oh God. That poor woman… Why didn’t Thomas tell me things had gotten this worse? 
“You thought she was religious before,” Micheal says. “Now she claims she sees spirits.”
I’m almost afraid to ask. “Did all of you… change?”
He bites his lip, contemplating if he wants to go any further. “Yes.”
“How bad?”
“You can see for yourself at John’s party.”
Right. The party. “Will the children be there?”
Michael checks his watch and starts walking. “Yes. Arthur’s been excited for you to meet little Billy.”
“My instructions from Thomas have stopped,” I call after him. “Any reason why?”
Michael turns to face me with his mouth pressed in a thin line. “He’s detaching himself from work.” That doesn’t sound like Thomas. “I’ll have more instructions for you after the holidays.”
No. I’m not waiting any longer. I’m going straight to the source. “Is he here?”
Michael points down the hall. “Right through that magical door. He just got done with a meeting.”
I start walking to it. “Please tell Polly I’ll visit as soon as I can. Wish her a ‘Merry Christmas’ for me.”
I push the door open and walk into a dimly lit room. Inside is a long wooden business table. A portrait of the company’s stemma hangs on the wall. At the end of the room Thomas sits at the table, smoking as usual. The thing that sets him apart from last time are the round spectacles on his grimly-carved face. Through the thick smoke I can’t tell if he's just as happy to see me.
“Ah, there are those braids. Did you come over with Ada?”
I don’t know how to respond to this greeting. Commenting my hair braids? Not even a simple hello? 
“Yes,” I answer slowly. “Merry Christmas to you, too. Ada's gone to visit your brothers, then she’s coming to see you.”
He doesn’t seem interested. Instead Thomas gets up and walks closer to look at me. “You’ve changed. Your letters stress more on business instead of pleasure. But you’re still full of spirit.”
So he does read my letters. He just doesn’t bother to respond. Full of spirit, am I? Maybe it’s because I was so desperate to hear from him. Such a contrast to his unaffectionate personality.
“Vader recovered quite well. When he was able to walk I spent the summer helping my brother Eoin and his wife with their four kids so they could take a vacation. You’d change too if you had to learn to wrangle those little schavuits.” 
I walk closer too, dawning a deciphering face that tells him I cannot be so heartless. “In fact… You look different as well. Those glasses…” Is it just me or does Thomas look more tense than before? “I like it. Makes you look… sophisticated. Just like the man everyone in Boston thinks you are.”
Thomas catches on to my cold tone and tries to ignore it. “I see you’re wearing the gift I sent you.”
“Yes I am, thank you very much,” I say gratefully and finger the pendant around my neck. “I love it. I’m surprised you remembered.”
A quaint smile crosses his face. “‘S not every day a girl turns 23.”
True. But what’s happening right now is not about me. I need to redirect him back to the subject at hand.
“You wrote that you wanted me back. Thomas, I’m serious, I am here to help reconnect your family. What plans do you and Charlie have for Christmas?”
Why is he looking at me like that? It’s like he wants to avoid me, glare at me, or hug me. I thought I was conflicted about this visit but I think he beats me. 
“We’re spending Christmas at Arrow House,” Thomas says. “I got him his own horse. A thoroughbred.”
My eyes close and I have to keep from frowning. “Thomas. That’s very sweet, but a horse cannot replace family.”
He takes a puff on his cigarette. “Polly’s seeing spirits. Michael needs cocaine to stay awake. Linda and Esme want to carve my eyes out. Gathering for Christmas is not going to fix this, Verena. Also, Ada tells me you’ve been advertising whiskey on the side.”
I shrug. “Your clients like to drink, my vader makes whiskey. It’s been profitable. Is that so wrong?” He’d be a hypocrite if he disagrees.
Thomas shakes his head and walks over to pour a glass of his own whiskey. “I heard Lizzie mention my recent routines with ladies of the night. Thought you’d have something to say to that, eh? Religious reminders or what not.”
That is it! I’ve had enough!
I clench my fists and make for the door before I punch him in his smug face. “I came here to help your family! Whoever you fuck is not my concern, Thomas. I know I can’t change your mind about it. All you Shelbys ever do is screw around.”
Behind me I hear him hum in surprise. “Still so innocent.”
I spin around and face him with a glare moeder would be proud of. “‘Look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under ‘t.’ Beware women, Thomas. Their sweet smiles can turn into venomous bites when their motive is strong.” I am not so different.
Thomas raises a brow. “So I shouldn’t trust you either, eh?
I grunt frustratedly and grip my head. “I’m telling you this so you can trust me. Everywhere you send me I’ve seen strong-willed men come undone at a woman’s smile.” My eyes narrow with determination. “I am stronger than that. When a handsome man tries to sway my opinion I know exactly how to correct him.”
Thomas can’t ignore the mention of another man. “And how is that, might I ask?”
I smirk. “A loaded pistol used for a little persuasion never hurts. At least at first.”
Thomas mirrors my grin and raises his glass. “Remind me never to make you mad.”
“You have before. Was I that pleasant?”
His eyes darken. “No.”
I put my hands on my hips. “That’s what I thought.”
Thomas glances at my trunk. “Are you staying in town?”
I grimace at the thought of Ada having to stay with Polly. “I’m stopping by John’s to say hello before the party. I’m planning on going back to Watery Lane so I don’t intrude. People are going to hate me too, Thomas.”
I feel him grab my small hand with his callused one. “Stay at Arrow House for Christmas. There’s more than enough room. Charlie will be happy to see you.”
We’re not getting anywhere. “That’s why I’m here, Thomas. For you and your family. Are you still not going to John’s party?”
Thomas’ blue eyes dart all over my face. “They don’t want anything to do with me. I find myself blessed enough to have you back. I’m not bringing them back into this if they don’t want to.”
And I can’t force him into this because he’s too scared to face them. I’ve got my work cut out. Maybe there can be a Christmas miracle.
“Okay, Thomas. I can stay at Arrow House. But you need to promise me that you will at least make an effort to wish them a ‘Merry Christmas.’”
My acceptance of his offer brings a slight smile to Thomas’ face. “Before you go to John’s there’s something I’d like to show you.”
Of all places to find surprises I would not expect a normal-looking warehouse with no one guarding it. I’m led inside and take in the view of a giant room stocked to the brim with bottles of gin. His own distillery! This kind of progress is just what Thomas needs! A hobby that’s not trying to kill him.
“Goodness! When did this happen?”
Thomas brings out a case of bottles. “Your father’s drink inspired me. Now I use dad’s old recipe to make my own. We’ll still buy your brand, of course.”
I’m still gawking in wonder at the place. “Thomas, this is amazing!”
“Try some?” He holds out a sample glass. “Be honest.”
I take a sip and take in the new flavor. Nothing like vader’s but I give him credit. My taste is very specific. “It’s good. Quite impressive. Do you export?”
Thomas nods proudly. “Yeah. Some I send off to Boston. Your lot drink it up like water.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Didn’t want to steal your dad’s business.” Is Thomas Shelby being modest? “Soon enough we’ll produce 200 gallons a week.”
Time to test the waters. “Maybe I can bring some to John? I’m sure he’d like to try some.”
Thomas’ smile fades. “Knowing Esme she’ll spit it on you. You’re really going to play peacemaker, Verena?”
I step closer and feel the same energy from before I left. When I felt like I was where I belonged in the world. He needs to know he’s not traveling this beaten path alone.
“You say I am innocent. Perhaps God is calling me here to spread my positive spirit during this festive season. Your family has seen numerous tragedies, Thomas. You can’t be broken apart. You need to be mended together. That’s why I am here.”
That, and because I love you. Do I go further?
Thomas keeps looking at me as if I’m a mirage. “I can never understand how you still believe we are so righteous and can be saved. That I can be saved. Do you ever want something for yourself?”
Yes. So selfishly yes. But it’s someone I want so selfishly. There are many ways I can answer that.
I spot a clock on the wall. Patience, Steenstra. This cannot be summed up in a few minutes.
“How about we continue this when I get back from John’s tonight? We can catch up properly without any interruptions.”
Thomas wants to keep me here but he knows better than to argue. “We’ll be waiting.”
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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 51: A Promotion
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The morning wakes me up with winter sunlight streaming through the curtains. As usual I dress and prepare a small breakfast, though this time I have a plan to head to the hospital straight away. Thomas must have already left for the office.
“Morning!” A voice calls from the hall.
“Finn? What are you doing here?”
The young man pokes his head into the kitchen. “Tommy sent me to watch Charlie while you go to the meeting. He also said he’s sending some men to escort you.”
“Oh! Alright, then. I was heading out now anyway.” I grab my wool coat and the scarf oma sent with me. It’s definitely colder out. “Charlie’s still asleep. I’ve got some leftovers if you’re hungry.”
Finn sees me about to close the door and starts panicking. “I would wait until an escort arrives!”
I start to respond but then hear footsteps behind me. “Mind if I join you?”
It’s Bonnie. Same curious eyes, same brown coat. What’s different now is that he’s wearing the iconic Peaky Blinder cap. Did Thomas send him? Surely not. Not after my last encounter with him.  Still, if I am in need of an escort I would much rather have one who is willing to talk instead of just following me around.
“Not at all,” I reply and call back to Finn. “An escort just arrived. I’ll be back later.”
Finn nods and goes back to the kitchen. I shut the door and look around for the car Thomas promised. There, parked down the street, is a brand-spanking-new black Bentley. God, Thomas. You know I don’t react well to charity. Did you have to buy me a car that’s so… luxurious? Hell, a beat-up truck would do just fine.
I climb inside and gesture for Bonnie to join me. Once he sits down the engine purrs to life and I begin driving down Watery Lane.
“What brings you to the neighborhood?”
“I followed Finn here. I was talking with him and a few others earlier.” Bonnie tips his new hat at me. “I’m now officially a Peaky Blinder.”
I have the intention to offer whole-hearted congratulations but find it sad to see another young man being coursed into the brutal gang. Bonnie’s only a few years older than Finn, who has already begun to change.
“This must be a big change for you,” is the best I can offer.
“Definitely. So… What is it that you like to do?” Bonnie asks, looking at me and ignoring the passing wanderers outside.
“I dabble in embroidery, reading, baking. The typical stuff from where I’m from.” I scoff halfheartedly. “My moeder prepped me to be a suitable housewife, and instead I’m working for a razor gang.”
Bonnie scrunches his face in confusion. “‘Moeder?’”
“It’s Dutch for mother,” I explain shyly. “I apologize if any more terms slip out. I’ve been trying to learn more over the past few years. The Shelbys always speak Rukka so now I have a part of my own culture.”
Bonnie nods in understanding. “I like that. Being one who has three sisters, I respect how you’re not jumping in to settle down.”
“Thank you,” I reply sincerely and see the hospital coming into view. “What is it that you like to do?”
“I’m a fighter. I actually just got placed in a fight that Mr. Shelby is arranging,” Bonnie states proudly and playfully nudges my shoulder. “Don’t let my size fool you. I may be small but I can hold my own.”
I can’t help but laugh as I park the car. “My broers would love to meet you, then. They grew up fighting in Brooklyn's streets by the time they were thirteen. At least your kind of fighting is regulated. I can’t count how many times I had to nurse multiple black eyes.”
Our laughter dies out as I step out of the car. Bonnie does the same and we stand idly next to the sidewalk. I’m unfamiliar with how to, how you say, wrap up small talk. I’m so used to educational lectures or business talks that laid-back chatter seems strange to me.
I point to the front door. “This is my stop. Unfortunately Thomas is coming for a meeting and I don’t think he’d-”
“I understand,” Bonnie says with a small smile as he starts walking off. “It was good to see you, Verena.”
“See you later, Bonnie.”
I march up the wet steps into the dim hospital halls. What am I to make of what just happened? Is Bonnie chatting me up just to be nice or is he showing interest for other reasons? I must say I’m flattered by his extension of friendship… Yet at the same time something seems to pull me back. But what?
“Ah! Hello, Verena,” Michael greets as I enter his room, just passing by an exiting nurse with a very flushed face. He’s dressed in plaid pajamas sitting at a table. Am I too early?
“Hello, Michael. I must apologize for not visiting sooner.”
He waves it off. “No, it’s fine. I’ve been busy keeping up with company records anyway.”
I sneak another glance at the girl outside. “Your nurse seems to treat you well.”
“You could say that.”
Just then Thomas walks in, wearing glasses. It’s a sight I’m still coming to terms with. Almost as if it’s a symbol to show that time is passing much too fast.
“Ah, you’re here. Now all we’ve gotta do is wait for the others,” Thomas says as he sheds his coat and tosses some files onto the table.
“Think Polly will be accepting?” Michael asks.
“We’ll see. Oh, there’s one more thing. I’ve been sworn in as the Small Heath Coordinator of the Organization of the Maintenance of Supplies.”
I get a smug look and put my hands on my hips. “A badge job? Fancy. Look at you, Mr. Man of the Law.” 
Thomas rolls his eyes. “Haha, very funny. I hope the car is to your liking?”
I can’t help but huff at his generosity. “Now who’s the funny one? Thomas, you didn’t have to-”
“Too late. It’s yours,” Thomas declares triumphantly as the door opens again.
Polly, Ada, and Lizzie walk in. Why do I suddenly want to leave and go talk with Bonnie again? Don’t get me wrong, Ada’s a terrific friend. But combining these women with someone like Thomas is like adding a match to a barrel of gunpowder. Ada, being the perceptive person she is, slides me a glass of whiskey. Although I doubt even this will get me through the next hour. I really hope this meeting is as important as Thomas led on.
“Sorry I’m late,” Polly drolls halfheartedly as she sheds her coat.
Thomas looks around expectedly. “Where’s Arthur?”
Polly scoffs. “Do I look like his fucking mother?”
Thomas ignores her. “Right. Before we start this extraordinary general meeting of the Board of the Shelby Company Limited-”
“And her?” Lizzie cuts him off and gives me a cold stare. So help me God, I am so close to snapping at her-!
“I’m getting to that,” Thomas answers smoothly and continues. “I’d like to note the absence of the Deputy Vice President who has not yet arrived. We will continue without his presence. Item number one: the reinstatement of the Shelby Company Limited company treasurer. The board welcomes back the treasurer with generously improved terms and conditions. Due to the exceptionally difficult circumstances the company now finds itself in.”
Across the table Michael and I exchange looks. Difficult circumstances? Polly’s coming out of a drug addiction, John is dead, and we’re being hunted by the Sicilian mob. As much as I want to stand by Thomas during this dark predicament I also cannot ignore the fact that it has been some of his own decisions that have led to this.
“They will now check the terms and conditions to see if they are in order. Item number two: during the absence of the company accountant due to ill health, all responsibility for the keeping of company accounts passes to the head of acquisitions.” Thomas shuffles some files and passes them to Polly. “Item number three: the company treasurer lodges a signed contract of employment. All those in favor of the reinstatement of Mrs. Elizabeth Gray to the position of company treasurer of Shelby Company Limited please raise your hands.”
Thomas and Michael raise their hands, followed by Lizzie and Ada. Um, why do I need to be here? My job doesn’t hold any authority for these votes.
“No one objects,” Thomas declares.
Polly, with a plain face, drones sarcastically. “Why, goodness, thank you.”
“Now, to the last matter. Item number four: the official instatement of Verena Nora Steenstra as head of international relations.”
What?
Thomas pulls out another file and has Ada pass it to me. My name’s written on the top. Is he serious? I mean, the gesture is really sweet and will provide proof that my job is legit. Not to mention the benefits. But does this have to come up at a time when I’m trying to protect my family?
“They too are offered generous terms and conditions, due to the recent circumstances of the company and their family,” Thomas says in a softer tone, looking right at me. “They will now check the terms and conditions to see if they are in order.”
Yes, these conditions all look reasonable. Good pay, travel insurance, paid time off. He even added mandatory visits for me to see my family over holidays.
“They will also sign a contract of employment. All those in favor of the instatement of Verena Nora Steenstra to the position of head of international relations please raise your hand.”
Polly and Ada immediately join Thomas in raising their hands. Michael gives me a small smile and raises his hand. Lizzie, however, is the last to do so with a very tartly frown.
Polly smiles at me and holds up her glass to toast me. “No objections.”
“Any other business?” Thomas asks and takes our dead silence as his answer. “Right. I declare this extraordinary general meeting over. Now we can talk real business, but for that we need Arthur. Where the fuck is he?”
I look over to see a nurse poke her head in, looking at Lizzie’s cigarette. “Sorry ladies, there’s no smoking in here.”
Polly gets up and goes to shut the door. “Yes love, we know.”
“He’s an hour late,” Thomas grunts and leans against the table. “Fuck. This business affects Arthur, but we’ll take a vote without him.”
Ada’s eyes narrow. “What business?”
Polly points a finger and her and I. “Business that wasn’t on your agenda, Ada. You too, Verena.”
Next thing I know Thomas is handing me a family photograph. “An informant told us that six years ago, Luca Changretta came from New York to Birmingham to be best man at his cousin’s wedding.”
“I persuaded the photographer to give us copies,�� Polly explains and points to a particular member. “That is Luca Changretta.”
He looks just like the other members I’ve seen in Brooklyn. Dark hair, sharp suit, dead eyes.
“These are the people who are trying to kill us. We need to get these photographs out on street corners and in pubs, and offer a reward for information.” 
“We will also give one to Mr. Gold,” Polly adds.
Thomas nods. “We have to forget the idea that it has to be Arthur to pull the trigger. Tradition will just fuck us up. We need Luca Changretta dead. That’s it.”
If we’re not relying on tradition and Mr. Gold is going to help then maybe I can call for some reinforcements as well.
I raise my hand. “I could ask my uncle to send reinforcements.”
“No, love. Our men can do the fighting,” Thomas assures. “Your family can stand aside. All those in favor of giving the photograph to Mr. Gold, raise your hand.” Once again we all agree. “Then it will be done.”
Polly grabs her hat and gives Michael a look. “I smelled perfume when I came in. Who was in here, Michael?”
Michael starts to think of what to say but Thomas speaks for him. 
“The truth is that the woman who raised him came to visit and give him fucking apples. Now please drop it,” he states firmly and Polly starts walking out crossly. “We are in the middle of a vendetta and Arthur is missing. We need to find him. Concentrate on what unites us. This is all temporary.”
Polly, unconvinced, scoffs. “Temporary. Right.”
With that she struts out, followed by Lizzie. Ada gives me a discrete thumbs up and walks out too. 
“Get well, Michael,” I wave and follow Thomas once he gathers up the papers. After a moment of echoing footsteps we exit the hospital and step out into the stiff cold. “Thank you. For making me official.”
Thomas doesn’t look at me. He keeps a thousand-yard stare and when he does speak it sounds much sadder. “You deserve it. You shouldn’t have to be tied up in this world.”
I tilt my head in consideration. “I chose to be here. My family didn’t. That is why I’m worried.”
“Love, you need to value your life too. Not just your family’s safety.” I feel Thomas’ hand on my shoulder and I fight the urge to face him. “Verena, you cannot use your life as a bargaining chip.”
“Oh really? It doesn’t seem too far fetched from something you might try,” I reason back with sass.
Suddenly Thomas goes stiff and grabs me with both hands. “I’m serious. I am not going to let you get killed because you’re too selfless to value your own life.”
I feel my heartbeat accelerating. If my life is so important then why does this empty feeling never go away? Despite Thomas’ efforts to show appreciation they lack the kind of tender emotion I’m looking for.
“If my life is worth more than my job then why don’t I believe you?” 
Thomas’ brow furrows in deep thought and he licks his lips before answering. “You can’t.”
No one can trust him. That’s what he means? I’m not dealing with this right now.
“You are testing my patience,” I murmur darkly and push away, walking back to my car. “Sooner or later I may just go over your head.”
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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 46: Grim Tidings
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We get back inside and out of the growing cold. Thomas walks back to his desk while I carry my trunk up to the guest room despite his insisting to make Lydia help me. Part of me hopes Thomas will at least call Arthur and John to wish them ‘Merry Christmas.’ What’s it going to take for him to break down and talk to them? 
After I set my trunk on the massive bed I go back downstairs hoping to find Charlie. Maybe he’s playing with Thomas? I poke my head in, only to find Thomas staring at something on his desk.
“Did you get a Christmas card?” I ask and look down at the strangely dull paper. What kind of holiday card is that? All that’s on it is- 
My breath hitches and I freeze in my tracks. A black handprint. That’s a black hand… From a mister Luca Changretta. Jesus Christ. That means…
Thomas looks up and sees my petrified face. “Do you recognize this?”
I can’t tear my eyes away from the foreboding symbol. As a child I remember the one thing Uncle Colon preached above everything else was the danger of the black hand.
“I know what that is,” I whisper dreadfully and back away from the desk. “It’s a sign from the Sicilian mafia. They’re spreading like wildfire back home. The FBI doesn’t want to admit the mob exists but it’s clear as day. Uncle Colon specifically ordered for my neighborhood to be guarded from them.” 
I back against the wall and clutch my chest before my heart can burst out. A black hand. There’s a black hand addressed to Thomas. I work for Thomas. Does that mean my family is going to be served a black hand too?!
Thomas walks around the desk and approaches me cautiously. “You’re safe here, Verena. I promise.”
My eyes flash with panic. “Is it just you?”
He groans and rubs his furrowed brow. “How the fuck would I know?”
My jaw drops. This is not the time to be held back by the family’s falling out! If there was ever a time to bury the hatchet, this is it! And if he doesn’t snap out of it right now I’m going to slap it out of him!
“Do you even know how the mafia works?” I ask sternly. “I don’t know how up to date you are with things but the Italians hate the Irish. My people. Thomas, they aren’t just a gang. They’re like a company. Run like a well-oiled machine. Family and tradition is everything to them. Instead of burning a building or blowing up a train they kill entire families and leave one man standing to see it all happen. One minute they’re chatting friendly over wine, the next they’re jamming a breadstick down your throat. These men are sophisticated savages.”
Thomas looks up at me, then back at the card, then at the floor. “I need to make a call.”
I tug at his sleeve. “Thomas. Listen to me. I am not exposing my family to this. Being tied to you could put them at risk too.”
I reach for the phone but Thomas snatches my hand. “If your family’s involved they would have already called. Do you want to alert them to it if they have nothing to worry about?”
Damn. He’s right. If moeder doesn’t know about this then she’ll lose her marbles if I call her to say I’m working for a man involved in a vendetta. But I can’t be expected to just keep quiet!
I raise my voice. “Thomas-!” 
“I know!” He shouts and his grip on me tightens. “You just got here, wanting to help, and now this black hand’s fucked everything up. It’s too dangerous for you to go back home because Changretta might be looking for you.”
He pulls me closer and all but digs his fingernails into my skin. “Do not ask me to have to receive a letter testifying that your body was found drifting at sea. Just- Just let me figure this out and I will keep you safe.”
How far does he expect to stretch my trust?! This is my own family we’re talking about! And unlike him I do not have an estrangement with them. Why would I-?!
“Daddy? Veena?”
My head flinches to look over where Charlie is peeking behind the corner. Oh God. I’m not letting him hear of this too. Not after what happened last time. If this Changretta fellow lays a finger on him I’ll rip each one off and plunge a bullet through his skull.
“Charlie!” Thomas cuts out my thoughts and makes a performance to get me to stop talking about the black hand. “How about we start getting ready for bed, yeah? Verena-” He looks at me desperately. “Any Dutch traditions for us?”
I bite my tongue. Very well, Thomas. I will stay quiet… for now.
“Actually I did bring some Christmas cookies,” I smile mischievously and Charlie’s eyes widen. “You’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Ah…” I dig around for any traditions they wouldn’t know. “To say ‘Merry Christmas,’ in the Netherlands we say ‘Vrolijk Kerstfeest.’ We still abide by the legend of Santa Claus but the Dutch version is called Kerstman.” I dramatically spread my arms. “He is tall and slender with a long white beard. He wears dark red robes and a tall hat similar to a bishop’s. Children leave their shoes out and fill them with hay and carrots for his horse. When he visits, he fills the shoes with gifts and treats.”
Charlie tugs on his father’s arm. “Can I leave my shoes out tonight?”
“Sure thing, son.” Thomas pats his back.
I keep thinking. “As for some traditions on my moeder’s side, we leave a candle in the window to represent guiding Mary and Joseph on their way to Bethlehem. It’s inspired by an old Celtic ritual of lighting a way for the spirits to pass peacefully. We also hang a holly and ivy wreath outside the house to represent the crown of thorns.” My smile falters at the memory of past Christmases. “All of my family that resides in America gathers in our home in Brooklyn for a Christmas feast of roast pork, vegetables, mince pies, and homemade breads.”
Thomas spots my melancholiness and takes that as the cue to lead Charlie towards the parlor. Now that I’m not panicking I notice the sprigs of holly and evergreens decorating the bookshelves. Almost just like home. Maybe this doesn’t have to be such a sad Christmas after all?
“Veena! Come on!” Charlie calls.
I take one last deep breath. “Coming!”
I hurry after them and look up to see- Oh my! That’s one of the most beautiful Christmas trees I’ve ever seen! It’s gorgeous! 
“Here we are, Charlie.” Thomas hands his son a small place with a mince pie on it. “Your job is to leave these out for Santa, yeah?”
Charlie does as he’s told, along with taking off his shoes and leaving them next to the fireplace. I wonder if my young nieces and nephews are doing the same thing right now… 
“Goodnight, Charlie.” Thomas hugs him close. “Merry Christmas. I love you.”
The innocent child waves goodnight to me as Francis leads him up to bed. Thomas slumps down in an armchair with a whiskey in hand, staring at the ceiling.
“That’s really sweet of you,” I smile softly. “He’s living a childhood. You even kept the Christmas magic alive for him.”
“Charlie deserves everything.”
I nod. “He’s growing up so fast.”
Suddenly the sound of an approaching car causes Thomas to quickly get up again and look out the window. Could it be hitmen?
“Who is it?” I whisper and creep closer.
Thomas spins around and makes me sit in his chair. “Stay here.”
He storms into the other room, comes back with a small gun and goes back to the window. Thomas takes another look and sighs in relief, walking back to pour another whiskey.
“It’s Ada.”
Frances walks in with a concerned frown. “Mr. Shelby, it’s your sister.”
“I know. Send her in.”
And in walks Ada, just as I left her earlier. Thomas doesn’t wait for proper greetings and gets straight to the point.
“I’ve had a card, Ada,” he says and hands her a drink. “I’m guessing John and Arthur have had one as well.”
Ada tilts her head. “‘Hello, Tommy.’ ‘Hello, Ada, welcome home.’ Thanks, it’s nice to be back,” she drones sarcastically and nods at me. “I see you and Verena have already caught up. 
“I spoke to Moss,” Thomas explains to both of us as Ada goes to place her gifts under the tree. “Moss says that Changretta is a soldier for the Spinietta family, which means that he’ll have men with him, professional men. They usually operate in units of ten.”
I shake my head worryingly, staring at the crackling fire. “You don’t know half of what the Sicilians are capable of.”
Thomas ignores my comment. “Moss is checking Cunard records to see if they’re already in England.”
Ada, appearing surprisingly calm to this, hands Thomas a small package. “This one’s for you.”
Thomas takes it and eyes it skeptically. “What is it? Time machine?”
“My God, Tommy Shelby, is that regret?” We’re both thinking it.
He sets the present on the desk. “I’ll open it tomorrow.”
Ada presses her lips together. “So, boss, in light of the changed circumstances, what are your orders?”
Thomas leans against his desk, deep in thought, and looks between Ada and I. “Changretta knows where we all live.”
“As well as my family,” I murmur.
Ada notices my distraught nerves and her brow furrows. “But-?”
“I’m tied to the black hand because of my employment here, and because of my uncle,” I explain. “My family will bear the burden, same as yours.”
“We won’t let that happen.” Thomas walks around the desk and kneels down to look straight at me. “If we stay out in the open, isolated, he’ll pick us off one by one. We need to be together in a place even they won’t dare to come.”
My eyes narrow in bafflement. “Are you saying I should ask my family to just up and leave our home?”
Ada’s confused as well. “You mean back home? Our home?”
Thomas looks at me again. “I know it’s technically yours now but-”
“I kept the deed in your safe,” I confess with a shy smile. “Just in case you lot still needed a place on Watery Lane. Of course you can use it.”
He nods gratefully and continues. “Within a four-mile radius of the Garrison. Every man is a guard and soldier for us. I’m calling a family meeting. Charlie’s Strong’s Yard, Boxing Day. Finn’s already there. You tell Polly and Michael, I’ll deal with John and Arthur.”
This is what it takes. A bloody death threat on the entire family. This is what drives him to speak to his brothers. Ada catches my eye and mouths ‘calm down,’ probably because my face looks like I could commit murder. I selflessly came here to bring people together and instead I’m being forced into a vendetta. 
“And Esme and Linda?” Ada asks before I can say anything.
Thomas’ voice raises. “Anyone who wants to live to see another Christmas needs to come where it’s safe. These bastards will kill kids as well. When this business is finished we- We can go our separate ways.”
Damn it, Thomas! None of this would have happened if you hadn’t been so headstrong on revenge for Grace’s death! In fact, all of this is because Lizzie wanted to go out with an Italian. How did I end up here? Because I’m a delirious idiot who’s trying to fix someone who might be permanently broken.
“Do you think I’m on the list?” Ada asks in her own tone of fear. Now she catches on.
Thomas’ gaze hardens. “We’re all on the list, Ada. Just ask Verena.”
She huffs in frustration. “I gave my gun to Arthur.”
Without a word, Thomas reaches in his desk and pulls out a pistol. He checks to see it's loaded before passing it over with a blank expression.
“Welcome home.”
Ada still looks perturbed and I can’t blame her. She pockets the gun and I stand up to follow her.
“I’ll walk you out.” We get to the hall and I lean in closer. “How’s Arthur?”
She scoffs lightly. “He’s a chicken farmer now. He seems to be coping better, although Linda’s still got him on a tight leash. This whole black hand thing’s sure to get Arthur stressed.”
My face darkens once more. “We all are.”
After she leaves I walk back to the parlor to find Thomas standing by the phone. He sees me walk in and points to me.
“What ‘bout you, Verena? You’ve got a gun?”
I tartly reach under my wool skirt and pull my own pistol from my leg holster. “Smith and Wesson. American-made.”
The tiniest hint of a smirk dances across his lips. “Just the way you like it. How appropriate. I’m going to call John.” He dials the number and waits a good long minute before giving up. “Fuck.”
“No answer? Maybe they’re asleep.”
He ignores me and dials another number. “Get me through to Maypole 245.”
I shouldn’t be listening to these conversations. While Thomas waits for Arthur to pick up I move to his office to look at the wretched card once more. My motive is my own family’s safety. If that means I have to give up my own safety by staying here and keeping quiet then I cannot fight it. 
The phone clicks again and I take that as a signal to rejoin Thomas. He looks sad and tired.
“Did he pick up?” I ask softly.
He takes a drink. “Yeah.”
“You sounded nervous.”
“‘M not nervous to talk to me own brothers,” Thomas grumbles. He looks up at my pointed stare and grudgingly looks to the ceiling. “Fine. I was a little nervous.”
“On a different matter… Thomas, my family will not leave. They’ve worked too hard to make it to where we are. They would rather face conflict than leave Brooklyn. So… I will stay here, not a word to them, and trust that you know what you’re doing.”
Thomas sets his drink down and gently grips my shoulders, peering straight at me with pleading eyes. “Just trust me. I promise I will do everything I can to make sure they’re not connected.”
Can I really trust him? Trust in him always seems to lead to the darkest of places. Is my love for him enough to provide reasoning for trust or is it clouding my judgment?
“I’m retiring for the night.” I take his calloused hand and give it an uncertain squeeze. “Merry Christmas, Thomas.”
He leans his head in closer. Not enough to touch my forehead but enough for his icy blue eyes to be the only things I can see. “Merry Christmas.”
Every part of the festive feeling I felt earlier today is gone. Suddenly this jolly season has become full of benevolence. I cannot think about some petty romance now! As I make my way to my room and prepare for sleep, the dread of hearing any news from home gnaws at my stomach. All I can do now is pray that tomorrow brings more answers. It will be good to see Finn again...
@meadows5
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sl-newsie · 2 months ago
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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 42: Something More Important
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By the end of the afternoon everything is planned. Ada, Finn, Polly, and Michael are already here. Now we’re waiting for Lizzie and the other Shelbys and their wives. Thomas’ meeting with the duchess must have gone successfully because he came back in one piece with more money than I’d ever imagined. Now she’s gone.
In the kitchen I pour a small whiskey and let the nostalgic drink warm me. More footsteps approach and Thomas spots me sitting at the table.
“Do you drink now?” 
I roll my eyes. “In small portions. Don’t blame me. You lot are always drinking.”
He walks in and takes a seat next to me, examining the bottle with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. “Whiskey?”
“My vader runs a brewery. What do you think?”
“‘S this your father’s brand?”
I nod proudly. “Some of the best in America.”
Thomas hums and considers me with calculating eyes, hand on his chin. “How do you feel about horses?”
Another swallow. “Not much to say. I grew up in the city and never got to see many, much less ride one until I came here.” I smirk. “Not that I wouldn’t be up to the challenge.”
He hums again. “Do you prefer cars?”
Is that a trick question? Where is this coming from? “In Brooklyn everything’s close enough to walk. When my family travels we rent a car. But if you’re asking my opinion about those gleaming beauties you’ve got now, I’ll say they’re some of the best cars I’ve ever ridden in.” I stand up and place my glass in the wash basin. “You’re a man of many wonders, Thomas. Gorgeous horses and snazzy automobiles.”
A new feeling blooms in my chest just as Ada walks by. So much for a private moment.
“They’re asking for you, Tommy.”
Thomas waves her off and stands up, taking a puff on his cigarette. He takes his own sip from vader’s whiskey and looks to the floor with a look telling me he’s overthinking.
“After today, things might go back to normal,” I comment lightly and put a hand on his shoulder. “Now go out there and show them who Thomas Shelby is.”
Thomas gives a stiff nod and strides off into the hall. I start to follow but am blocked by Linda before I can exit the kitchen.
“Why are you here?” she asks, looking me up and down.
“Excuse me?”
“Why are you here? Esme, Ada, Polly, and I are kin to the Shelbys.” She tilts her chin up. “Who are you?”
It feels like someone punched me in the throat. What words can I possibly say about that? Does she not see the time I’ve dedicated to this family?
“I- I’m here as a friend. Thomas-”
“All you are is a trusting, pretty face that he can send to do the boring work he doesn’t like,” she tuts. “If I were you I’d go back to America. That’s where Arthur and I plan on going. Away from this dangerous place. Although no offense, your state may be a bit too rough for the baby.”
My jaw tightens and my gaze hardens. My hands stay clenched at my sides. Every part of me wants to boil over and scream at her for disrespecting my country.
“How dare you. You say I’m a waste of space here and then insult my home? You are in luck because I am too Christian to hit a pregnant woman. Excuse me.”
I force my way past Linda, pushing into her shoulder. Arthur, you are a good man, but why did you have to find someone so judgemental? At least Esme still accepts me. Polly, Ada, Finn… Thomas trusts me. I understand that trust does not come easily to this family but one would think that after all this time-
“Ms. Steenstra, there’s someone on the phone for you,” Mary interrupts my thoughts. “A man named Conor.”
The name makes my pulse spark. Why would he be calling?
“Conor? That’s my brother.” I walk to the phone and hesitantly pick it up. “Hello?”
“Verena?” His deep American accent rings through. “Thank God! I’ve been trying to reach you all day! Where the Hell in England are you?”
“I’m in Warwickshire.”
“Speak normal English!”
I roll my eyes. “That is normal English! I’m at Arrow House. My boss’ house. And we’re about to have a meeting. Is something wrong?”
He chuckles halfheartedly. “Funny you should say that. Vader fell down the stairs and broke his beg.”
I close my eyes and let out a drawn-out groan. “It was the stairs with the loose floorboard, wasn’t it?”
“Sure was. And now we need someone to care for him while I get to be the lucky one who runs the shop.”
His attempt at sounding gumptious does not sink in well. The previous feeling of the future’s delightful promises is disassembled, leaving me to ponder the disappointment of having to leave Birmingham once more.
“Conor, are you serious?” I ask in a small voice. 
“Catch the next boat home,” he answers in a non-negotiable tone. “Please? Moeder and Oma are going crazy and we need you to balance it out.”
I feel like I’m falling. Being dragged down with no way out. “Conor. I am so close to starting a life for myself here. Is there any other person?”
He sighs deeply. “I’m afraid not. We need you here.”
Something more important. That’s what he wants to say. I have to leave because this is more important. Not Thomas’ mental stability or my own interest to start a life. What does Conor know? They’ve never even met the Shelbys yet. 
I’m being pulled from both sides. On one hand, I can’t leave Thomas alone with what he just went through. He needs me to listen. On the other hand, I cannot just leave my family. It’s too selfish. Maybe… I can still listen from the phone. Thomas might understand. He knows I wouldn’t leave unless it was for something like this.
“Very well. I will inform Mr. Shelby that I need to take a leave of absence.”
“Thank you, Verena,” Conor sighs in relief. “This is a big help, really. You’re-”
“Tell moeder I will be home soon,” I cut him off with a dead tone. “Tot ziens.”
I stiffly hang up the phone before he can ramble on about more assurances. Yes, this is a big help to them. But I also feel the need to be of service here too. Can’t they understand?
I join the others in Thomas’ office and try to squeeze past Finn before the meeting starts. “I need to speak to Thomas-”
“Shh!” 
Finn pushes me down into the chair next to him. Whatever Thomas’ new plan is I will have to be cut out. Now everyone is gathered, even Thomas’ uncle, Curly, and Johnny Doggs. We’re all in rows facing Thomas like it's going to be a big speech. Thomas stays hunches over his desk, eyeing us until we quiet down.
“Before I begin, I want to let you know I made a mistake.” He admits it? Thomas Shelby just admitted he was wrong. “And I want to apologize to all of you. Arthur, you warned me against getting involved in Russian business. And you were right.”
Arthur merely hums in response. 
“I doubted your wife, and for that I’m sorry. Linda, I’ve added 3,000 here in the hope that you’ll forgive me.”
Linda gives us all a quick look as if to see if taking the money is appropriate. She gets up and picks up the bills Thomas has placed on the desk. “Apology accepted.”
Thomas continues. “Esme I doubted you as well.”
Esme, carrying the sleeping newborn in her arms, stares right at him. “Now John’s got innocent lives on his conscience. Ordinary working men-”
“Yeah, alright Esme. Got it,” John pushes it off.
“No, she’s right,” Thomas agrees. “And you and Arthur are gonna have to share that burden.” He tosses another stack of bills to him. “But I hope the house that you can buy with this can become a place of contemplation. Perhaps redemption.” He throws more money to the men in the back. “Charlie, for lost tools, dangerous goods and Curly’s wise words. Johnny, for board and lodgings. Lizzie.” 
The dark-eyed secretary leans forward and throws it back, sitting up straight with a tensed jaw. In a split second her eyes dart to where I’m sitting and I swear she thinks I'm hiding something.
“Michael.” Thomas holds more money out to his cousin. “For the killings. 5 for the stabbing, 5 for the shooting-”
Polly stands up. “No, Tommy.”
“What?!” Thomas barks. “Tell me, eh! This is who I am! And this is all I can give you for what you’ve given me. Your hearts and your souls.” He points a finger at her. “Yesterday I nearly lost my son. You should fucking understand that. For what, eh? For this? This?”
He gestures to the room and I can see my prediction seeping through. Wealth can grant you only so much, Thomas. I tried to tell you, Lord knows I did. Now you see just how valuable life can be without money... And how easily it can be stolen.
“And I know you all want me to say that I’ll change,” he grunts, looking over each of us. He’s not wrong. “That this fucking busines will change. But I’ve learnt something in the last few days.” He points to the window. “Those bastards, those bastards, are worse than us. Politicians, fucking judges, Lords and Ladies. They are worse than us. And they will never admit us to their palaces no matter how legitimate we become. Because of who we are. Who we fucking are, where we fucking came from.”
As much as it pains me to think it, he’s right. This isn’t America where you can build from the ground up and people will respect you. Remains of wealthy families still linger but in Brooklyn your character is judged by your labors. Your hard work. Maybe that is why I’ve been so out of place here.
“Isn’t that right, Ada?” Thomas looks at his sister. “Our Ada knows. She got smart about the revolution. And she knows you have to get what you want your own way. Lizzie, I want it known that money was for you because some nights it was you who stopped my heart from breaking. No one else.”
Crack.
My breathing ceases. Thomas’ words are drowned out by the ringing in my ears. My entire body freezes to stare unblinking at the desk. Did he just say that? In the corner of my eye Lizzie’s look of confidence says enough. But he said thank-you. He said he needs me…
“And Verena, don’t think I’ve forgotten you.”
Did he say my name? My head jerks up and those stern blue eyes meet my frigid ones.
“Verena. The American woman who stood by us as our family crumbled and built up again. Verena, who cared for and protected my son as if he were her own. Verena, who makes me look like a bloody fool for not following her wisdom. Vernea, who always listens.”
He holds up a single envelope. Not one with money.
“This here is for you. The deed to the house on Watery Lane. It’s yours now. And outside that house, you will find a car. That’s yours too.”
Oh God. He does care. He wants me to stay so badly. How can I tell him I can’t? “Thomas-”
“No exceptions,” he orders and sets the envelope on the desk.
“Thomas, please-” I beg.
“Tommy. You’ve had a bad time,” Polly interrupts. “We understand. So at an alternative time, we have all recovered.” She walks over to retrieve the money from Michael, who does not look compliant. “I would like to put before the family an alternative view of the future of the Shelby Company Limited. A more hopeful view.”
Esme’s baby starts to cry. Polly’s words hit everyone. If only I could join this hopeful future. 
“Which I, for one, would quite like to hear,” Ada inputs.
Esme stands up with her child. “As would I.”
“And I,” Lizzie agrees.
Thomas’ eyes flicker to me and I force an empty smile. “Me too.”
Linda, however, is not as enthusiastic. “Come on, Arthur. Train to the boat leaves in one hour. Then we get the boat to New York and it’ll all be in the past.”
Polly gives him a hug while Thomas fights the urge to as well. Instead he sits back in his chair and takes a puff on his cigarette. Does this mean the meeting’s over? Are the Shelbys really splitting up? Arthur can’t really be going- Can he? After everything…?
Everyone stands in silence as Arthur approaches his brother for a final goodbye. “I’ll be off then, Tom. I’ll see ya. I’ll see you, brother.”
He gives a nod and walks to join Linda at the back of the room. I’m really going to miss him. Maybe I’ll be on the same boat back to New York.
“You can go but you won’t get far, Arthur.”
Thomas’ words cause everyone to look at him. Arthur must think he’s joking. What on Earth is he talking about?
“I spoke to Moss last night. He told me that the Chief Constable of Birmingham has issued a warrant for your arrest. Murder, sedition, conspiracy to cause explosion. John, they’re coming for you as well. Same charges. Michael, the murder of Hughes. Polly-”
“Wait a minute. What the fuck are you talking-?” Arthur’s voice rises.
Bang! Bang! “Open up!” Someone shouts from outside.
Oh no. He didn’t- Thomas could never-
“…In the murder of Chief Inspector Chester Campbell,” Thomas finishes.
So Polly really did kill him. Can’t say I’m sad to hear it. But what does not calm my thoughts is the continued pounding on the front door. 
“The people we betrayed last night want to bring us down,” Thomas explains as whistles start to blow. “They control the police, the judges, the jails. But they do not control the elected government.”
“What the fuck Tommy?” John yells and everyone starts clustering in a panic.
“I was going to listen to you, my brother-!”
“They’ll hang us!”
“Listen to me!” Thomas is trying to stay calm. “I’ve made a deal, in return for turning in evidence against them. Lizzie, take the money to the cellar. You will get your money in course time. When the police get in, do not resist. Do not say anything.”
More panic spreads through the room. Polly, looking shocked and distraught, is escorted out by Michael. Esme tries to run with John but I know they won’t get far. Screams echo from the hall. Finn and I exchange anxious looks and bolt out of the room to see the door burst open and uniformed cops swarm inside. They push me away and back Arthur up against the wall with a baton to his throat. John’s already handcuffed. Esme’s trying to soothe the baby and keep Linda from attacking the coppers. Finn, who looks to be seconds from tears when he sees Polly being handcuffed, takes off sprinting out the door and around to the back of the house, towards the pasture. Lizzie and Ada are still hiding in the cellar. I’m all that’s left.
As the thrashing prisoners are led outside I feel someone walk up behind me. Thomas. We both stand in silence watching them all be dragged out to the awaiting trolley. Silence drapes over the once-lively house. I dare to look up and see Thomas’ facade threatening to crack. He never wanted this. A king, all alone in his castle. 
He finally speaks. “The only one not linked by evidence to this is you, Verena.” 
I swallow hard to fight my own tears. “That’s supposed to make me feel better? You just sent your own family to the gallows, Thomas! You must admit the law is catching up to you now. Rigged or not, do you think you can fight this system?” I take a shaky breath. “I feel like that speech was partially directed at me. No, I understand you can’t change. But you’re right. You are better than them, Thomas. All those snippity aristocrats.”
“I really meant what I said,” Thomas murmurs and I fight the temptation to keep looking at him. “You… You’ve kept me sane. You listen. You care. I don’t know how, but you do. Even if there’s nothing profitable for you.”
I shake my head slowly. “Care and compassion shouldn’t come at a cost.” Another deep breath. “There’s more news, I’m afraid. Conor, my oldest brother, just called and told me I need to return home. Vader broke his leg, and…”
Something in him breaks too. We both know where this is going. Thomas wants to break down further but instead closes his eyes to clarify my reason to leave.
“You need to help. ‘S alright, Verena. I understand.”
“Please know that I truly do wish to stay.” I gently take his hand. “You didn’t need to gift me anything for helping you, Thomas. God sent me here for a reason.”
He swallows. “You deserve it all, love. It will still be here when you come back.”
“I will be back,” I assure firmly. “I promise. But right now you need your family. Save them, Thomas. While I’m at home I can start arranging your shipments in Boston with Ada. I’m really sorry Thomas but I have my own family to look after as well.”
We turn into each other for a soft hug. Nothing too intimate, no. Something with a deeper feeling. Like two magnets not wanting to part. No longer do I feel scared to touch him. I need him to make me keep remembering what I’ll eventually return to. In a small moment I feel him lean down and press a single kiss to the top of my head.
“If I call, will you pick up?”
“Always.”
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sl-newsie · 2 months ago
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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 43: Familie
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The boat ride home feels like I’m being punished. The further away I sail from England the deeper my heartache grows. When I arrive back in the crowded Brooklyn streets all I can think about is waiting for news about the Shelbys' death sentences. 
“Verena!” Oma gushes and wraps me into a warm hug. “Dear kleinkind, you are home! We- Verena? Why the sad face?”
I offer a small smile and set my trunk down. “Homesickness, oma. And… I’m really going to miss my job.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” She hugs me closer. “I’m so sorry. If it's any comfort, we are all glad to have you back. Your vader's been too stubborn to fix that step, and look where it landed him!”
“Verena!” Moeder’s voice shouts from the bedroom. “Run and fetch your vader some morphine!”
“Elowyn, the poor girl just got back!” Oma tries to calm her down.
“She can unpack later. Dochter! Now!”
I steal a quick moment to cry into a pillow before answering. “Yes, moeder.”
So good to be back.
The doctor said vader’s injury will take nearly a year to heal. One whole year. It only takes a month for paranoia to sink in. Every day I wait for Thomas to call. Either with good news of triumph or tragic news of death. It’s not until I’m stuck doing a mountain of laundry when Conor’s wife Delilah calls me over to the phone.
“The name is Shelby. Isn’t that your boss?”
“Yes!” I gasp and wretch the phone from her. “Did they make it in time?”
On the other end Thomas keeps his voice calm. “Just made it. They’re all safe.”
I close my eyes and give a silent prayer of thanks. Dear Christ, they are alive! “They’re going to be angry.”
“I know.” He pauses. “It’s good to hear from you, Verena. I got your letter last week. Please send my best wishes to your father.”
My mouth starts to hurt from how much smiling he’s causing. “I will."
"When will you come back?” He masks his voice to make it unclear if he misses me too.
“I should be back by next December. I’ve been given permission to return to Birmingham once vader’s recovered.” I change to a tone of dry humor. “Thank you, by the way, for sending that persuasive letter.”
“What can I say? It’s not been the same since you left. Charlie keeps asking where you are.”
“Yes, well, when moeder read the letter she was very concerned about why someone like me was being requested by a gang leader.”
I had to swear on my life that there’s nothing scandalous afoot. 
Thomas ignores my implications. “How’s Ada?” 
“According to her calls, our arranged meeting in Boston is still planned. Next Monday we’re meeting with Mr. Anderson.”
“Excellent. Let me know when you’re on your way back.” He waits for a moment, deciding his next words. “It’s- I- Goodbye, Verena.”
I take a deep breath. Typical. “Goodbye, Thomas.”
As I promised, I keep to my word and meet with Ada the following week. She, like Thomas, is surprised with how busy the city is. When I spot her at the Boston docks’ main office Ada greets me with a big hug.
“So good to see you! Did you get the present Tommy sent you?”
“Yes!” 
The silver pendant hangs as a hopeful reminder under my shirt. No cursed jewel. A simple silver pendant with a Celtic cross at the center. Two days after my birthday I received a parcel from Thomas, along with a small note. 
Verena-
You refuse to wear anything of your paygrade so I am gifting you something tied to your devoted faith and heritage. Happy birthday, Verena. Please come back soon.
-Thomas
 I know those words must have been very precisely selected. Whether he does love me or not, the gift always brings joy to my heart.
“And Tommy told you the good news?” Ada asks.
“Yes! They were pardoned!” My smile fades. “Have they yelled at him yet?”
Ada’s face grows grim as well. “Not a word. It’s like no one wants to acknowledge Tommy anymore. Except Michael, that is. He jumped right back in. Finn tries to help when he can. Everyone else walked away.”
I take her hand and give it a squeeze. “Let’s start things off right. Today can bring good fortune to the company, which means good fortune for us.”
We ascend the stairs into the office and find an older man with jet-black hair waiting behind the front desk.
“Hello, Mr. Anderson,” I greet. “I believe you know Christiaan Steenstra?”
He looks me over. “Steenstra, yes. He married that Irish lass from the mob.”
“He is my father. I am his daughter Verena Nora Steenstra.” I gesture to my partner. “May I introduce Ada Shelby. We are here on business for Shelby Company Limited. Thomas Shelby wrote ahead to tell you we were coming.”
The name sparks his memory. “Yes. His instructions were very specific. I have only one question : why do I do business with you? Why doesn’t Shelby come see me himself?”
Ada and I exchange looks. I speak before she can argue with him. “He is a busy man. Saying that, he is a man who is not afraid to let women represent the company. Are we in agreement or would you like some persuasion from the White Hand?”
The name lingers in the air and the blood drains Anderson’s face. “No.”
I smile prosperously. “Then we are decided. Ada, the papers please.”
Once again I owe my leverage to Uncle Colon.
One final week. One week until Christmas, one week until I will be back in Birmingham! Ada’s waiting with the cab outside while I finish packing the last of my clothes. Just then, all five brothers barrel into my bedroom. 
“You’re really doing this, sis?” Eoin asks for the fifth time.
“You’re an American. Not a Brit,” Abel points out.
I clasp the trunk shut. “Must this always end in an argument against the British?”
Liam slaps the side of his head as if I just asked if the sky is blue. “Yes! We beat their tea-drinking asses. Why should you care about some gangster and his shipping company?”
“Need I remind you, Liam, that America’s melting pot is all about international cooperation?”
“America is the best,” Nicolaas mutters.
I face the gang of boys with my hands on my hips. It’s just like lecturing the Shelbys. “Our family comes from other places, too. If Ireland were under attack would you let it burn?”
All five brothers sheepishly look down and shake their heads. “No.”
“Neither would I. That’s why I’m helping.”
“That and you’re sweet on Mr. Shelby,” Liam chuckles under his breath.
I point a warning finger at him. “Shut it. I do not fancy him.”
“Ha!” Conor laughs at my unusual wording. “Verena’s picked up a bit-a-the-’ol English tongue!”
Nicolaas keeps a more mature expression. “Does Uncle Colon know?”
No. I still hesitate to inform my family of exactly who I’m working for. All they know is that I act as a foreign representative for a British trading company. It’s not a lie. If moeder caught on to how dangerous my work can get she would keep me stranded in Brooklyn forever. I can’t tell Uncle Colon how deeply I'm involved with the Peaky Blinders.
“I haven’t told him yet.”
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t know. The White Hand has spies everywhere.”
Abel catches on to my growing anxiety and leans in to corner me. “There’s something else. What haven’t you told us?”
This is partly why I didn’t want to come back. My brothers’ intentions to protect me involve coaxing out every bit of information about my job. They mean well but I would rather die than expose them to the cruel, brutal world of the Peaky Blinders. How can I convince them not to worry when they keep asking questions?
I bite my lip. “Thomas- My boss… He used to be involved with the Russians.”
Conor’s jaw tightens. “Are you serious?”
“And you’re going along with this?” Nicolaas asks, appalled. “After what they did?”
I keep a look of confidence. “I leave it to Mr. Shelby. My business is anywhere else. He wanted me to chat up Mr. Anderson and now I’m scheduled to head to somewhere in France.”
Liam grunts. “We don’t know a thing ‘bout France.”
“It’s not your concern,” I state firmly. “I can’t do the work of a dozen, but I am able of doing this.”
“You can stand to work for them?” Eoin asks in disbelief.
“Aside from all their sex talk?” Abel’s jaw drops at my laid-back tone. “It’s tolerable. The drinking, smoking, swearing. It’s all old news to me now.”
All five brothers exchange looks. Are they ganging up on me? Do they not think I can handle myself after all these years?
“Verena,” Conor begins. “You’ve changed. Ever since you started working for this guy you’ve been distant. It’s like you don’t want to see us anymore.”
My face falls. Is that how they see me? They know me better than to think I would want to avoid them.
“Broers. I love you all. I love my familie. I will never abandon you. Did I not leave England to aid vader when he was injured?” They all look to the floor again. “And Eoin, I just spent the last three months watching your children. How is that not loyalty?” He doesn’t answer. “But I am loyal to the Shelbys too. I love them all, even with their flaws.”
“You’re so loyal that you’re spending Christmas away from us?” Abel asks softly.
I take a deep breath. “This time of year is supposed to be when people gather and celebrate the spirit of the season. This year has been really hard on the Shelbys and I want to be there to help.”
“You talk as if they’re family oriented like us,” Nicolaas observes. “Yet the rumor is that no one’s getting along.”
A bittersweet smile grows on my face as I lean in to give my broers one last hug. “That’s why I have to go.”
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sl-newsie · 2 months ago
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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 41: A New Beginning?
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Every minute feels like an hour. I sit and wait, sit and wait. The second Finn walks through the door again I hold up a kitchen knife, ready to strike.
“Alright, Finn,” I start off sternly. “Nobody’s told me anything about what the fuck’s going on, so spill it. Tell. Me. Everything.”
Finn swallows and backs up against the wall. “Okay. Okay. I don’t know too much! There was a deal with the priest that if Tommy blows up a train and robs the Russians then he gets Charlie back. Tommy said to wait to hear from Michael in case he finds Charlie. Now please put the knife down!”
My shaking hand lowers the weapon and lets it clatter to the floor. “None of this feels right, Finn,” I murmur distantly. “All of this is forced too fast. The train, the robbery… Haste makes waste.”
Finn pauses and reaches to put a hand on my shoulder. “You alright?”
“I… I’m scared. For everyone,” I choke out.
“You’re taking all of our own stress on yourself, Verena.”
“It’s Charlie!” I gasp. “I cannot calm down when there is a child involved!”
Ring! Ring!
The phone makes us both jump. Finn snatches the receiver and I hang on to every second.
“Hello? Yeah. He did? Yeah. Right away.” He sets the phone down and sprints for the door. “Michael killed the priest! Charlie’s safe now! I gotta go tell ‘em before they blow up the train!”
Thank Christ! Praise the angels, Charlie is safe! Enough with all this talk of sabotage and robbery. The next time I see Thomas I have some select words about this violence! But I can’t be too harsh. The poor man just got his son back- But he doesn’t know yet!
“I’m coming with you!” I jump to my feet and follow Finn to the car.
“No you’re-!” He stops when he sees the murderous look in my eyes. “Alright, fine.”
We jump in the car and burn rubber to speed towards the train tracks. Everything is happening so fast! The only thing keeping me from vomiting is the fact that Charlie is safe. Finn takes a sharp turn and I’m thrown against the window. Through the glass I see the train making its way past the tower. Are we too late?
Finn gets out and we both sprint across the tracks to shout at Arthur.
“Arthur! Wait! Charlie’s safe-!”
Boom!
The explosion knocks me down and I trip on my skirt, tumbling against the cold metal. I lift my head to see shards of steel, rock, and fire rushing straight at me. I feel Finn throw himself over me and we wait for the wave of fire to pass. 
“Holy Christ…” I gasp.
The only thing remaining from the train is its flaming metal skeleton. No one could pick apart any survivors from the rubble. 
Finn helps me up and I see Arthur and John waving from the building. They pull out cigars and despite my urge to return to the house I can’t forget what just happened. These lives did not need to be taken. All of this evil surrounds the priest, whom I hope has witnessed a brutal fate. 
I run back to the car and pull it around for the Shelbys to climb inside. I push the accelerator and Finn tries to explain as we weave through the dark streets.
“Michael killed the priest. He’s got Charlie. He’s headed back to Watery Lane- Slow down!”
“I’m not stopping until I see Charlie!” I say firmly and pull up to the house.
We burst through the door and the sight nearly makes me collapse in relief. Charlie, sweet Charlie, is cradled safely in Ada’s arms. Smiling like nothing ever happened. Michael looks dazed too and Polly knows. She knows the sin he committed to ensure Charlie’s return.
“Charlie!” I cry when Ada hands him to me, immediately resting his head on my shoulder. “Darling boy! We missed you!”
“Daddy?”
I hold back happy tears and nod shakily. “Yes, daddy is on his way.”
He doesn’t know. Doesn’t know how close he came to being taken. I pray that Charlie never remembers this night.
Ada and I take him to the kitchen to be fed. Lord knows when he ate last or if that bastard gave him anything. Charlie takes one bite of bread and starts devouring it. Deep breath, Steenstra. He’s here. He’s here.
“Verena!” Polly yells from the hall. “Bring Charlie over! It’s Tommy!”
I pick Charlie up and race him across the room, swinging him to provoke more laughter. Thomas must be worried sick!
“Charlie, say hi to daddy,” I say sweetly and hold up the phone.
Charlie coos into the receiver and I hear Thomas cry in relief.
“Charlie? Hey, there’s my boy. Are you tired?” Charlie babbles a response and I can tell Thomas must be smiling. “You go to bed now, eh? I love you. Goodnight… Verena?”
I hold the phone to my ear, still bouncing Charlie. “I’m here, Thomas.”
“Thank you.”
“Please come home. He misses you.”
“I will, I will,” he pants. “Bring him to Arrow House.”
“Affirmative.”
Despite Polly’s begging to make me wait until morning, I pack a small bag and instruct Finn to bring a car out for me. I secure Charlie in the front seat and smoothly depart for Warwickshire, a complete contrast to the reckless driving I demonstrated an hour ago. It’s barely dawn when we ride down the driveway and my eyelids feel incredibly heavy. But I never stop. Mary helps me get Charlie settled in bed and I finally sink into a large armchair. With a blank mind and glazed eyes I stare at his bedroom door across the hall. The sun has barely risen…
Ring! Ring!
Thomas?! I flinch out of my sleepiness and fall to the floor. I crawl to the table and grip the phone.
“Hello?”
“Am I right to guess that this is Ms. Steenstra?” A familiar voice asks. “This is Alfie Solomons. Has Mr. Shelby’s son been cared for?”
Solomons. The man Michael told me is the reason Thomas’ original plan failed. The events that transpired to Charlie being put in danger.
“If you know my uncle it must be on bad terms,” I speak darkly, confining all the sharp cusses wanting to fly off my tongue. “Edmund Colon would never be allies with a man who’s obsessed with wealth.”
“He runs a business, same as I.”
“For the people,” I hiss. “My uncle supplies help to those who need it, for a price. He doesn’t cross between sides for profit. He chooses the good side.”
Seconds of silence. “You don’t seem like the type to follow Tommy Shelby around,” Mr. Solomons observes.
“His morals are far above yours. When children are involved we draw the line. You do not. Good day, Mr. Solomons.”
I hang up the phone and collapse on the carpet. No more threats. Charlie is safe. Thomas is coming back. All is well… My eyelids fall shut and my melted thoughts send me off to sleep.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Loud footsteps shake the floor and startle me awake. Floorboards creak next to me and someone shakes my shoulder. I peel my hair away and see Thomas staring at me with wide eyes.
“Charlie?” He whispers.
“Yes,” I answer softly and point to his room. “I don’t know if he’s still asleep. He’s fine. Not a scratch, I made sure.” I get to my feet, trying to wake up. “I’ll be downstairs.”
Thomas squeezes my arm and pulls me into the child’s room. Inside a maid sits playing with Charlie, who looks up at his father with a wide grin. Thomas scoops him up and holds Charlie so tight as if he’ll disappear. Kissing his cheek and trying to control his labored breathing. Just like last night Charlie has no inkling of how relieved his father is to see him.
“Thank God. Thank God,” Thomas murmurs.
“Daddy? Okay?” Charlie asks, confused.
“He’s really happy to see you,” I smile at the heartwarming scene. “Are you hungry, Charlie? Want some breakfast?”
“Yeah!”
“Then you shall have some,” Thomas says and carries him out, down the stairs to the dining room. 
“Are you hungry, Thomas?” I ask while we wait for Mary.
He hugs Charlie again and shakes his head. “I will not rest until everything is tied up. The duchess and I have one last transaction to meet over and then I’m calling a family meeting.”
Mary walks in with a tray for Charlie. He starts eating the cut pears and suddenly Thomas pulls me out into the hall. 
“Thomas wha-?” 
He sits me down onto a bench, kneels down, wraps his arms around me and buries his head in my chest. I go stiff as a board and desperately try to think of what to do with my hands. Push him off? Hug him? Rub his head?
“A-Are you okay?” I stutter.
“Just… Just need someone to tie me down,” he murmurs. “Clear my head.”
The image of the snickering duchess flashes through my memory. “I thought you’d-”
“She’s not you,” Thomas reads my mind. “You want to listen, she just wants to fuck.”
“Oh,” I try to respond to his bluntness. “Okay. Please tell me that after today the duchess is gone?”
Thomas lifts his head to look at me. Those blue eyes that once held worry and fear now stare at me with calmness. “Off to Vienna. To marry, I assume. Jealous?”
My breath hitches. “Jealousy causes viciousness. I try to stay clear of that.” Not exactly a no. 
Thomas’ gaze turns distant and he leans his head down again. “They had him…”
“Shh.” I run my fingers through his soft hair. “Charlie’s alright. He’s safe and sound. He slept like an angel, and has the appetite of a newborn.”
“‘S my fault, I should’ve-”
“Thomas.” I hold his head in my hands and make him look up. “You need to decide. Are you a Peaky Blinder or a father? You know how your father turned out. Do you want to end up like him?”
“No,” he answers quickly.”
“Then stop digging too deep. Dig any further and the foundations will crack.” I pause for a second. “What if you stopped?”
“Hm?” Thomas’ brow creases and he presses his lips together. 
“You and Charlie stay here at Arrow House for good. Where no one’s pointing a gun at you. Away from the violence.”
Thomas lifts his head, standing us both up with his arms still around me. “My life is centered around my family, Verena. If I stay here I’ll be leaving them behind. Violence will always follow me.”
If he keeps this up there will be none of his family left.
Knock knock.
Mary stands at the end of the hall. “He wants you, Mr. Shelby.”
“Thanks, Mary. He’ll be right out,” I call and look back at Thomas with a wise gaze. “Breathe. Charlie’s fine, we’re all fine. God is with us.”
He stares down, mouth slightly gaping. “Verena. Thank you.”
A gentle smile grows on me. “I’ll always listen.”
Thomas takes a second to let me go, as if forgetting he was still holding me, and strides back to the dining room. Is this the beginning of how things fall into place? That I can express my feelings and he will listen for a change? 
A fresh shower is in order to clear my head. As I wander to the bathroom I can’t stop the tsunami of hope rushing into me. Charlie is safe. The company is profiting. Everything is being tied up. Is this the start of something new? Granted, Thomas is right in thinking that violence will always plague the Peaky Blinders. Still… One can have hope.
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sl-newsie · 3 months ago
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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 31: My Own Person
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It’s a good thing I didn’t even bother to unpack. If luck is on my side I can slip out the kitchen door and be gone before any tears can fall. I hurry down the stairs and down the echoing hallway. Muffled chatter from the party seeps through the walls. Almost there-!
“You’re leaving?”
Christ, why did he have to find me? He should be too occupied with his bride and their guests.
I turn around slowly to face Thomas with as steady of a face I can muster. “I’ll be in town for a few days, then I’m off.”
He starts walking closer. “You’re more than welcome to stay on Watery Lane-”
“It’s already settled. Polly arranged it for me.”
I turn away and reach for the door again-
“I have an idea,” Thomas says. “Since we’re in Arrow House now, why don’t you live there? For good? Then you can work for us without having to travel so much.”
Can I afford to be submerged in more disappointment? He only means to be generous and hospitable but keeping this close to him will only cut my heart deeper. Can’t he see that?
“Thomas, that’s very thoughtful. But it’s-”
“There you are, darling!” A perky voice rings down the hall. It’s Grace. “Oh, are you leaving?”
Her subtle mocking disappointment does little to hide the relief in her eyes. She wants him all to herself and I can’t say I blame her.
“Yes, yes I am. Would it be possible to meet Charlie before I go?”
Grace, still wearing the same disgustingly sweet smile, shakes her head. “I’m afraid he’s sleeping.”
Of course. I can’t even meet their son. 
“Congratulations, Thomas. Grace.” I look between the two. “I will take my leave now back to Birmingham.”
“I’ll arrange for a car to drive you,” Thomas immediately inputs and begins showing me to the door.
Thomas. Please stop. “That’s really not necessary-”
“Nonsense.”
Try to play it off. “I see,” I smile charmingly. “There’s more than enough cars, eh? Trying to fluff your feathers, eh?”
Thomas rolls his eyes. “Very funny. I’ll go find you a driver.”
Before he walks off, Grace places a simple kiss on his cheek. She’s testing me. She’s reaching across with her left hand to show off the new wedding band on her finger. That does it. When Thomas is out of sight I face her with a tamed temper.
“Will you stop that?” I hiss. “Please stop flaunting your good fortune and leave me alone.”
Her smile falls. “I’m not-”
“We’re both on the same page, Grace. I’m not a fucking idiot. Don’t forget it’s your own fault it happened this way. You betrayed Thomas and he had the common sense to forget you. But you kept growing on him. Tempting him. Even after you married another man. You both committed adultery.” Her eyes widen at my statement and I put my hands on my hips defiantly. “Yes. I figured it out. Sin always catches up with you, Grace.”
She crosses her arms. “I love Charlie. I love Tommy-”
“Then quit whining when he’s distant,” I explain softly. “Thomas has always been a workaholic so you knew what you signed up for. It will take a miracle for him to change.”
Her gaze sharpens. “Don’t think I don’t know. You love him.”
Seems that everyone’s figured out except the man himself. I’m trapped in an endless circle of mockery and desire. Grace already has suspicions of my family. Will she try to spill this too?
I close my eyes and nod. “Yes. I do. But unlike some, I can control myself and walk away with quiet, dignity, and… grace.” Before my American side can flare up again I begin walking back to wait in the kitchen. “I love him, and that’s why I’m not staying. He chose you, Grace. Never take that lightly.”
Grace must believe me because the spite in her eyes has been replaced with surprised regret. See? Not all women are sniveling bitches.
“Verena, I… I’m sorry.”
Still looking away, she can’t see my annoyed face. “I wish I could say the same. Maybe if this world weren’t so barbaric we could have been friends.”
Back to the kitchen. Mother was right. My place is here. Providing a meal, keeping everyone happy but myself. There has to be a better life than this.
“Hey!” Thomas struts in. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to wait a bit longer for that ride back. Finn made me promise to keep the car waiting so you could visit more.”
Part of my frustration melts away. “That little rascal. Where is he?”
“Joining the others outside.”
Then that is where I shall go.
“Be careful!” Thomas calls when I walk past. “They can get a bit rough.”
After all the pain, at least I can keep seeing those crystal eyes. Some fresh air will do me some good. I just need to get past these expensive people.
I squeeze past an older gentleman and almost bump into someone. “Excuse me.”
“Pardon me,” the woman replies in a Russian accent. “We have not met. Who are you?”
The accent throws me off. Back away. Back away. 
I purse my lips. “Verena Steenstra. Who might you be?”
The dark-haired woman smiles. “Duchess Tatiana Petrovna.”
A royal. A Russian royal. No, no. I do not need that. “Pleasure to meet you. Excuse me.”
More rich blood, more unwanted drama. But it also just gave me an idea. A quick phone call might be in order before I depart tonight.
I leave my trunk by the front step and spy a group of men gathering by flickering torches. One silhouette is waving at me.
“Oi, Verena! Where’s your man?” Finn calls.
“Why would I have one?” I ask as I approach. “I’m only visiting.”
“Still no lucky man, eh?”
I punch his shoulder playfully. “You should talk. Where’s your girl, Finn?”
He waves me off. “Alright, alright. How’ve you been?”
How have I been? I just watched the man I love marry someone else, Finn. What am I supposed to feel?
“As good as I can, I suppose,” I answer instead. “Yourself?”
In the dim light his eyes spark with excitement. “Fantastic! I can carry out an educational conversation with them uniforms, no problem.”
I hum in approval. “Good to hear my work hasn’t been wasted.”
“I’m always up for a lesson, Verena.”
“Oi, Finn!” One of the Blinders shouts. “Get yourself a girl?”
We both stiffen and look at each other with disarray. 
“She’s not mine,” Finn explains quickly. “She’s her own person.”
The Blinder steps closer with a wicked smirk. “So she’s available, eh?”
Finn steps over and pushes him away with the same force Thomas would display. “No. Hands off. You don’t like it, talk to Tommy.” The man walks off muttering to himself and Finn looks over with embarrassment. “‘M sorry, Verena. They’re half-drunk-”
“It’s alright, Finn,” I sigh. “Nobody looks at me the same when they find out I’m single. Where I’m from it’s fine for men but a lady staying single this long raises a few eyebrows.”
A few minutes go by and we sit in comfortable silence in the golden light. “Are you upset about Tommy?”
I feel my chest tighten. “I can’t be upset on his wedding day,” I whisper. “He’s happy.”
“But are you?” Finn presses.
I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. “That doesn’t count. If you all are happy then I’m happy.”
“Verena. Are you happy?”
He takes my hand. He wants me to open up but I fear that will not end well. Jesus, Finn. Through these years of lessons I’ve taught you too much about empathy. Now you’re twisting my own methods against me.
“It’s incredible how he can see past me,” I murmur just so he can hear. “Thinks nothing’s changed between us. But he’s a married man now. I guess he feels differently. I just wish he would stop trying to reach out and see how much it hurts.”
Instead of telling me to move on or offering a drink Finn shakes his head quietly. “Someone like you shouldn’t have to go through this. You’re too nice.”
“Even mean people deserve to find love,” I point out.
He raises his eyebrows at me. “See? That’s what I mean. Nice.” More seconds of silence go by before he speaks again. “I would take you, you know. But I know you don’t think of me that way.”
How is this sweet young man the brother of the brutal gangsters?
“That’s very kind of you, Finn. Maybe down the line if we’re both old and gray then my family will force me to marry and I can choose you. But you’re right. I do love you but not in the way people expect.”
“It’d be nice if you were a sister,” he grumbles. “Not her.”
I point a warning finger at him. “That’s not up to us. Be nice to her, Finn. She’s your family now.”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “John and Arthur think so. Polly pretends to think so. Tommy’s forgotten how she betrayed us.”
“It’s his decision.” I change to a more firm tone. “Promise me you won’t tell a soul about what I said. It will undo everything if you do.”
Finn nods. “I promise.”
Good. Good, good. Now I won’t be the only one who’s seeing how blinded Thomas is. I can work for Shelby Company Limited far away from Thomas. Well, technically I could return home and give in to mother’s rants. Get married to someone new, a stranger… Who am I kidding? I don’t want that yet. What I do know is that I think I've had my share of tonight’s events.
“It’s getting late. I should be going- Where are you going?” I ask when I see Finn climbing onto a horse Johnny Doggs is holding.
“For a ride,” he replies.
“For a race!” Johnny announces. “Want to watch, Steenstra?”
I put my hands on my hips. “Absolutely not. Finn, this is dangerous-”
“Alright place your bets!” Johnny ignores me and starts leading the horse away. “Pick your favorites! ‘Cause I hope my boy Finn doesn’t fall off the fucking horse.”
Someone walks up behind me and the familiar smell of cigarettes and cologne tells me it’s Thomas. “Here you are. I think Finn will allow you to go now, eh?”
“Yes,” I answer, watching him ride off with a crowd of men surrounding him. “He’s much more occupied now. He’s grown up.”
“You’re not going to watch?”
I stride back to the steps and retrieve my trunk. “As fun as it would be to take part in whatever shenanigans you’ve got planned for tonight I must decline. You lot might be able to still sneak this insanity into your lives but I’m done with it.”
Thomas regards me with calculating eyes. “You’ve changed too.”
No shit, Thomas! Today I’ve had to mourn the only love I’ve known and you’re completely oblivious to it!
“No. I’ve learned to put my foot down.”
Thomas leads me to the other side of the mansion where a line of cars are parked. How many vehicles does one need?
“Well, have your pick.” He gestures to the lot. “Got a favorite?”
His eagerness brings a smile despite my deep sadness. “They’re all gorgeous, Thomas.”
I end up picking the Bentley 3 Litre. A hired hand starts the engine and Thomas loads my luggage into the trunk. He opens the door and I climb inside. The car starts driving down the dusty driveway and as I watch Thomas through the window I give a small wave. 
Goodbye. It kills me to do this but I must quarantine myself from you, Thomas. Your kindness will only disembowel my heart faster.
“Birmingham, Watery Lane. Is that correct, Ms. Steenstra?” The driver asks politely.
“Actually I will be staying somewhere else tonight, if you wouldn’t mind. And could you possibly keep it confidential from Mr. Shelby?”
Okay, now I see where Thomas is getting his wealthy inspiration from. This mansion is no less grand than Arrow House. But what’s different this time is that the person waiting at the front door will understand my situation.
“Hello, Mrs. Charleton.”
The woman dismisses the name with a wave. “May, please. How is America?”
“Party central, apparently. Much less hostile.”
She catches on to my hidden bitterness. “I assume you just came from Tommy’s place?”
I let out a slow breath and look up to face her. “Is it that obvious?”
May opens the door and allows me inside, giving me a look of sympathy. “Sadly, yes. Is Thomas stringing you on?”
I shake my head, now looking at the wall with distant eyes. “He’s never done that. At least not consciously. Besides he would never do that to Grace. Seems that every time I see him he assumes we’re old chums. He’ll always see me as a therapist, not a romantic interest.”
The mention of Grace isn’t enjoyed by May either. We’re both parts of the basket that didn’t get picked. Each of us got hooked by Thomas’ charm. My one saving grace is that I didn’t give in to the temptation of lust. But time can wither a person away.
“Do you know she’s helping to run the new Shelby Charity Foundation?” May says as I slump into a seat facing the warm fireplace. “No doubt Thomas is trying to improve his public image. Next thing you know he’ll be knighted.”
I scoff and glare at the roaring flames. “How generous.”
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sl-newsie · 3 months ago
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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 30: Pretend
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Back at Arrow House the gathering seems to split up into two groups: Grace’s side and Thomas’ side. On one side stands cheerful grins and partying hooligans. The other has tight-smiling women and military uniforms. I don’t belong here. And as much as she pretends Grace doesn’t think so either.
“Verena? Why are you back here?” 
My hiding spot in the kitchen has been discovered. Why does Finn get more grown up every time I see him?
“Sorry, Finn. Not feeling too social. I hardly know anyone here!”
“That can be fixed.” He points to the party going on outside.
“Polite pass. I shouldn’t really be here, you know.” I hold up a gift basket. “My father’s sent me here with fresh whiskey as gifts for the newlyweds. His regards for your hospitality.”
The youngest Shelby joins me on the stone steps. “Even so, what’s important is that you’re here. It’s been two years. We all missed you.” He nudges my shoulder. “Again.”
“I know, I know. But there’s nothing else tying me here anymore. Polly argued with Thomas to let me stay but he says my debt has been paid. If I stick around it’s of my own accord and that would look very suspicious.”
“You can still work for Shelby Brothers Limited,” Finn suggests.
“No offense, but I want to establish my life around a career that’s not illegal.”
He shows mock offense to my words. “That’s not true. We’ve weeded out most of the illegal rubbish.”
“Oi! Finn! Where’d you go off to?”
Finn hops to his feet. “That’s Jackson! Be right back!”
He runs out to join his friend and I’m left alone in the drafty kitchen. Wearing a wrinkled blue dress, sipping watered down whiskey, and thinking about broken dreams. Is this how Thomas feels when he’s depressed?
Footsteps alert my attention to the back door just in time to see John walk in. “Finn said I’d find you here.”
My brow furrows in frustration and I have to look down. “I’m- I shouldn’t be here, John. Everyone can see it. I’m the oddball American. I can’t go unnoticed because people always look at me funny when I speak.”
I hear him walk over and he kneels next to me. “Verena, you do need to be here. For all of us. Tommy was so happy when he heard you were coming. Now, before you say anything, I do admit even I’m disappointed it’s not you walking down the aisle.” He speaks faster when he sees my shock. “But please understand that you being here is important. And the bit about you being American? Flaunt it! It’s what makes you. You’re proud of your heritage, eh?”
My posture straightens and I set my jaw firm. “Without question.”
He pats my back. “Then don’t let those stuffy sods get you down. Here, drink this.”
I gratefully take the shot. “L’Chaim. Now I should go give my best wishes to the happy couple instead of just hiding in the kitchen-”
“Not quite yet,” John makes me sit back down. “Tommy’s holding a meeting. You’re part of this too! I’m gonna go find Arthur.”
All the Blinder boys begin crowding in. Finn’s back too. So many familiar faces. Michael, Jeremiah, Isaiah, Johnny Doggs. Um, this is not a meeting I’m meant to be part of. It doesn’t feel right.
“Finn, I’m not sure-” I stutter and start inching towards the back door. “I’m not a gangster, I’m not family-”
“The Hell you’re not!” Finn grabs my arm and hides me behind the pantry. “Get in here, Verena.”
People part away and Thomas steps in front of the group. When he sees me standing next to Finn he gets confused.
“Verena? Why’re ya hiding back here?”
I’m surprised he noticed my absence. “Just tired is all. I had a long trip.”
“How long will you stay?” Is that hope hidden in his voice?
“A few days, perhaps.” I take a sip of whiskey. “Then I’m heading to Belfast to respond to a note from my uncle.”
His face falls. “That soon?”
Why else would I stay? He’s got his bride and his son. I’m not part of the equation. And he’s quick to forget it because now Thomas is scanning the crowd for the rest of his brothers.
“Where are they? Where-?”
“I don’t know, Tommy-”
The door opens and Arthur and John bust in carrying wine. “Here we are! We got lost. You really need to do a map, Tommy.”
Thomas has looked stressed before but this is a new form of stress. He keeps looking at everyone like a dog growling at intruders.
“Right boys, you’re all here. Today, this is my fucking wedding day.”
Oh no, I’ve walked right into the warning speech. Thomas is off the leash. That cigarette is never going to provide enough nicotine to get him through this.
“And you said there’d be no bloody uniforms-” John complains.
“Nevertheless, John, despite the bad blood I’ll have none of it on my carpet. Now for Grace’s sake nothing will go wrong.” He holds up his hands in an attempt to calm people down and points to the door. “Those bastards out there are her family. And if you fuckers do anything to emberass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything…”
John speaks up. “Tom-”
“What?!” he barks.
His brother flinches and Isiah asks instead. “What about snow?”
“Yeah their women are sports I’ll say that!” John agrees and gets him in a headlock.
“No. No. No.” Thomas approaches them in an eerily steady but scary voice. “No cocaine. No cocaine. No sports. No telling fortunes, no racing, no fucking sucking petrol out of their fucking cars. And you, Charlie, stop spinning yarns about me, eh?”
“‘M just trying to sell ya to ‘em, Tom,” his uncle defends.
Thomas isn’t done. He keeps getting in everyone’s face. I really shouldn’t be here! I don’t want him to get more agitated than he already is. But I can’t sneak past Finn without him noticing. He’s pacing now. Like a caged animal.
“But the main thing is, you bunch-a fuckers, despite the provocation from the calvary, no fighting. Oi!” He raises his voice and points to each individual. “No fighting. No fucking fighting. No fighting. No! Fucking! Fighting!”
I think we can all agree that this is extreme, even for Thomas. Are all English weddings this uptight? If it were a wedding back home we’d all be dancing by now. Next to me I feel Finn’s as tense as frozen butter. But at least Thomas is starting to cool down.
“Good.” He backs up just as an unsuspecting hired hand and gives him a shove. “Get the fuck off me!”
So much for no fighting. All the men start laughing and go back to their usual bantering. Maybe I went unseen after all.
“Coast is clear,” Finn whispers. 
“Are you okay?”
He nods repeatedly. “Yup, yup. We all got an earful from Tommy.”
Arthur walks over. “Speaking of, where did Tommy go?”
“Upstairs with Grace,” John says and claps him on the back. “C’mon let’s eat.”
They expect me to follow but I shake my head. “No offense but I’m not staying around for dinner. If the simple drinks and conversing are this awkward I don’t even want to think about what dinner will be like.”
“Oh, come on.” John drags me out of my hiding place and into the ginormous parlor. “For Polly and Ada’s sake.”
I spot the two women conversing in the corner. “They seem fine without me. What about you, Arthur? You’ve been sober this whole time.”
He smiles proudly. “Gave up whiskey. Only the occasional drink. Oh, wait!” He spots someone behind me and walks over with a blonde woman wearing an elegant black dress with a simple cross necklace. “Steenstra, meet Linda. My girl.”
She offers a kind smile. “You are a woman of God as well?”
Oh. Skip straight to that kind of conversation. “Indeed.”
Her smile widens. “Are you Catholic?”
“I am a Christian. My father let my brothers and I choose our own path rather than setting us up in one dominion. In the end we’re all Christians.”
She wants to keep smiling but her eyes don’t agree with my answer. “I see.”
I nod to where Arthur and John are bringing out more wine. “Arthur seems quite happy now. I’m glad you found him.”
“He just needed someone to guide him,” Linda comments. “I love him very much. Do you have a special someone back home?”
There are so many ways I could answer that.
“I thought I had someone special,” I say, avoiding her gaze by taking a sip of whiskey. “But things change.”
“Do you still plan to marry one day?”
What is with this woman? She just met me. Why do weddings always have to make everyone crowd up in everyone else’s private life?
“If I can find the right man.” I shrug. “Or if my family forces me to marry first. I don’t know how much time I’ve got left.”
“I can fix that!”
A hand tugs me away and I’m twirled around to face Ada. Why does she look like she’s up to something?
I pull away and back off slowly with my hands raised. “Ada, no. I have no interest in whatever suitable bachelor you picked out for me. I’m off the table. I’m only here for your family. Now please excuse me.”
Need to find Thomas. Need to find Thomas! Then I can escape this stuffy house and forget all about today. Thank God! Both Grace and Thomas are in the side room with the rest of the gangsters. I can give one big goodbye instead of many individual ones.
“There you are!” Thomas smiles. “We’re- Wait. What’s this?”
Everyone looks as I hand them both the gift basket and hold up my nearly-empty glass to give a quick toast.
“To the bride, to the groom. May your love prosper in the eyes of God. To the Peaky Blinders and the hope you provide.”
I chug the last of my whiskey and slip back into the crowd before they can hold me to another conversation. I’m sick of pretending to be happy. Even if this is supposed to be a special day. As much as I want to join the extravagant celebration my heart just isn’t in for it. My heart feels like it’s about to choke me.
Satisfaction slips through my fingers once again.
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sl-newsie · 3 months ago
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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 36: Take Charge
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“Thank God, you’re staying!”
If I hear those words any longer they will become my motto. The day after Thomas visited me I got calls from everyone asking if I was still in England. Before I know it things are going smoothly as if nothing’s changed. The only reminder of Grace’s absence is when I’ll spot Thomas alone in his office, staring outside the window. I’ll prepare a small tea tray and quietly slip it on his desk before he notices. A small gesture but he’s always quick to thank me when he sees me next.
Today’s bustle seems like any other except there’s a caravan of wagons approaching. I look out the front window to see the Shelby men hopping out and gathering near the barn. Is there something I should be concerned about?
I walk up to the men as one approaches a wild horse. Cautious and quiet. They appear to be in good spirits so that takes away some worry. Thomas isn’t out yet. Finn’s busy talking with Uncle Charlie. Maybe Arthur can tell me what’s going on.
“... Need to lay low once the baby comes.”
His conversation with John makes me gasp. “Linda’s pregnant?”
Arthur turns around with a big grin on his face. “Yes!”
I’m shocked, but in a good way. “Jesus. Between you and John we’ll have kids running everywhere. Congratulations!”
“Thank you. We’re expecting around September. ‘M gonna be a dad! Me, a fucking dad!”
I clap my hands together and praise the sky. “A thousand blessings on you both!”
We all share the same thought. A new baby is what we need now to help chase away the sadness that’s plagued us. And I know Arthur is going to be a wonderful father. 
Footsteps approach and Thomas joins the party. This is strange. He’s carrying a satchel. As if he’s going camping.
“Where are you lot going?” I ask him.
“To the woods, for some hunting.”
I stifle a laugh. “Hunting? You’re joking.”
“I’m not joking,” Thomas replies and I follow him inside the barn.
“I didn’t think you’d be willing to get your hands dirty with something like that.”
Thomas leads his black steed out of the stall. “Kill a deer, kill a man. Same thing.” He pauses for a minute. “Ever heard of the Mickey Free? ‘S a bar in Boston.”
This question is out of the blue. “No. Why?”
Thomas looks to see we’re alone and leans in. “Don’t tell the others yet, but our dad just died there.”
Arthur Shelby Senior. Dead. In whatever manner of way he died I can’t gather too much sympathy for this news. He, like many others must, assumed I was playing into the Shelby charm of lust. How am I supposed to feel sorry for that? Thank God Thomas cast him out and defended my integrity.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I finally respond.
“No need, I know you didn’t like him,” Thomas waves it off. “This hunt is to remember him, and forget him. Now you, Verena, are going back to Watery Lane before Ada accuses me of keeping you captive.”
Now it’s my turn to wave off his concern. “Oh it’s no trouble. It’s been a tad isolating but the country is a nice change from the city.”
From looking at the side of his face I see that Thomas agrees; but there’s something else he’s thinking of when I say that. Maybe he thinks he’ll never be able to truly relax while he's away from Birmingham. He mounts the steed and joins the parade of horses trotting into the woods. I give them all a wave goodbye just as they disappear behind the trees. A small men’s holiday might be just what they need.
Same filthy streets, same stuffy air. The car sent to pick me up drops me off outside the Shelby household. The driver says nothing, only helping to carry my suitcase to the door. Without the Shelbys here it feels less exciting. More empty. Once inside an unnatural silence drapes the atmosphere, that is until I hear heels clicking down the hall.
“Verena?” Polly sticks her head around the corner. “Tommy finally let you out of that place.”
I start to tell her I was there on my own free will but something about her seems off. She looks nervous. And tired. As if she’s been thinking too much. I’ve been so busy keeping watch over Thomas’ mourning that I didn’t think about reaching out to others. 
“What can I help with, Polly?” It’s a loaded question.
The older woman looks away shaking her head and walks towards the door. Is there something I should know about?
“Polly, where are you going?”
“Confession. At the church.”
“Should I come-?”
“No,” she sharply cuts me off. “I need to do this alone. Go help in the office.”
I try to follow her. “Polly, please. You don’t look well-”
Polly holds up a hand to stop me just as she shuts the door. “Do as you’re told.”
If she- But I- Oh. Okay. I can help with some paperwork. But honestly the thought of being stuck at a desk all day doesn’t seem as fetching. 
“‘S not fair,” Esme whines for the fifth time.
I was right. This is awful. I’ve been here an hour and both Lizzy and Esme are in no mood for pleasant discussion. Now I see why John was so eager to go on the trip. Esme’s current pregnancy is making her grouchy and sensitive. The only thing keeping her settled are her frequent whiffs of cocaine. And to top it off,  Lizzy’s still cross from my interactions with Thomas.
“They’re off drinking and shooting rifles as we sit here,” Esme complains. “Listening to the mugs swearing, spitting on the bloody floor for us to fucking wipe up! Without men here they’d be like dogs pissing up the wall.”
Just then the door opens and Polly walks in. I can’t tell if her stress has depleted or not. The good news is that she doesn’t want any of Esme’s attitude either.
“Esme, just… Get on with it.”
Esme groans and sniffs up more cocaine. “I’m bloody five months gone!”
I follow Polly to the safe and try to ask gently. “Polly? Do you feel better?”
She ignores me and leans her head against the safe. “Forgot the combination.”
“24-8-22,” Lizzie calls.
Polly’s just as puzzled as I am. “How’d you know?”
“Tommy talks in his sleep,” Esme pokes at her.
“Shut up, Esme,” Lizzy mutters.
Wait. Does that mean-?
Polly groans again. “He’s changed it.”
Lizzie gets up and starts fiddling with the dial. “You’ve put it in wrong.”
“No I haven’t,” Polly argues.
I step out of their way and go back to the table. This is it? Listening to them squabble while all the men are away? I actually was happier at Arrow House.
“I have been sleeping with Tommy,” Lizzie mentions. “Every now and then, when the mood takes him. Happy?”
No. I most certainly am not. I was right. While Thomas comes to me for empathetic consultations, he still doesn’t initiate physical emotions. Is May right? Does he think I’m too fragile?
“None of it’s fucking fair.” We know, Esme!
Knock knock.
Wonderful. Now who’s adding to the meeting of misery?
Linda opens the door with a bright smile on her face. “It’s me! Arthur said you’d be short-staffed today.”
She is so out of her normal standards. Linda walks around and practically scoffs at the illegal business. Her comments of purity against the company go ignored by the others. That’s it, I’m out. I’m already dealing with Lizzie’s comment. I don’t need this either.
I take an Irish goodbye and excuse myself back to the house. It may be lonely in the kitchen but at least the chicken I cook doesn’t squawk like those women do. I don’t know when the Shelbys will be back but that doesn’t mean I can’t fix a nice dinner for myself. Maybe I’ll call Ada and see if she wants company-
“There you are!” Linda walks in. “You’re coming too.”
I go back to washing dishes, uninterested. “Where?”
She comes up and slings an arm around mine, leading me away. “To the Bull Ring.”
I gawk at her bluntness. “Why?”
“To strike.”
I’m still confused. “For…?”
“Female workers’ rights. Come on, you of all people should appreciate this! You Americans had to go through tons to get the right to vote.”
“There’s a bit more to it than that-”
“Let’s go!”
She drags me out into the street to join the line of women workers marching towards the strike.
Something tells me I should go. Not for the extreme feminist cause but to be sure that no one gets hurt. Polly’s wild look in her eyes tells me her stress has melted into ambition. 
“Revolution! Now!”
I attempt to quiet her. “Polly, please! Calm down-”
“No I will not fucking calm down! We’ve been through this shit for too long!”
“Hallelujah!” Esme yells.
I knew coming back wasn’t such a grand idea.
The following morning Polly leans back in a kitchen chair with a cloth over her eyes. Clearly in a hangover. For three hours yesterday they shouted and raged against the male patriarchy. It didn’t help when people started passing around spirits.
Thud.
The front door closes and I hurry over to see if my suspicions are correct. Sure enough, Thomas is back. Maybe the fresh air did him some good.
“Morning, Thomas. About Polly- I tried to keep her safe.”
He takes a puff on his cigarette. “The strike?”
“Yes. It reminded me of women’s marches back home, but ours were a tad more civilized if you can believe it.”
He walks straight past towards where Polly and Lizzie are sitting.
“I heard you were giving speeches off the back of a wagon, Pol.”
She doesn’t move. “I can’t remember a fucking thing.”
“Well, Moss tells me you were threatening to burn down the town hall.” Thomas looks back at me. “Verena, will you please give us a moment alone?”
I have to keep my smile from falling. What? Is he upset with me? Does he think I’ll start ranting about freedom like a typical American?
“Of course, sir.”
Don’t show them disappointment. It’ll only give Linda and Lizzie more teasing ammunition against me. I retreat back to the parlor and set to dusting shelves. If I could slip out I’d properly dispose of my anger by swatting a broom against the alley wall. What am I supposed to do if you never let me in, Thomas?
“What are you doing?” 
Must have been a quick ‘moment.’ I thought for sure he’d call for Lizzie to- No. Stop right there, Steenstra. Jealousy never gets someone anywhere.
“Cleaning,” I say, keeping my face directed away from Thomas. 
“You know we can hire people to do that, right?”
I hum softly and continue wiping off the dirt. “I am hired help.”
“No. You’re not a maid, Verena. You keep us sane.” Thomas slumps into the lounge chair and runs a hand through his hair. “Fucking Russians. You will not believe the shit I went through last night.”
Again with the Russians. I warned him.
“Did the duchess try to kill you?”
Thomas rolls his eyes and glares at the wall. “Walked around practically naked in the dead of night, pointing a gun everywhere and demanding that poor Mary watches us fuck.”
My hand freezes and I slowly turn to look at him. “Y-You didn’t-?”
“No!” He quickly answers. “She- Please, please recite something clever.”
Clever? Is he using me just for my wit now? “Um- Alright. Sometimes life is like carving an apple.” Thomas’ stressed face changes to one of surprisement but I keep going. “When you find an apple with a brown spot you cut it out, right? It’s the same situation with people. We cut out the worst parts of ourselves to get along with one another.”
He thinks for a minute. “So you’re saying I should cut myself out? Just how much, eh?”
“What? No! Why would-?”
“Not everyone sees the good in people like you do, Verena.” Thomas pulls out a cigarette and stands up. “Never stop, love. Thanks by the way for keeping a watch on Polly.”
I offer a smile. “No problem. I might stop by later to see Charlie.”
The mention of his son immediately makes Thomas relax. “Right, Charlie. It’ll be nice to get some time with him. Do you need me to drive you?”
“No, no. I’ll manage. I’ve got some letters to mail first. My moeder goes crazy if I stay out of contact for more than a week.”
Thomas nods and walks out towards the door. We both know family comes first. As for his predicament with Duchess Tatiana Petrovna… It’s not my business but isn’t it a bit early to be courting after Grace’s funeral? Is this situation even a courtship at all? It doesn’t sound like Thomas initiated it. Curious, considering it’s usually the woman falling into his bed rather than her roping him in. Perhaps it’s a taste of his own medicine.
From the outside Arrow House looks as empty as before. What’s different this time is the friendly sight of Charlie and his nanny waving at me through the top window. Thomas’ car is here but there’s no sign of him at the door. Maybe he’s with the horses. I let myself in and the housekeeper immediately appears.
“Hello again, Mary. I’m here to check on Charlie.”
“Of course, Ms. Steenstra.” She leaves me to it and mutters something along the lines of “…More behaved than that other woman…”
Other woman? Who else has Thomas brought over? Does she mean the duchess? 
Instead of marching up the stairs I take a detour into the dining room, taking a seat at the head chair. The glorious portrait still hangs but instead of portraying confident power the painting resembles a man who has nothing but his horses. A lonely man.
Click click click.
“Bold of you to sit on a king’s throne.”
There she is. Duchess Tatiana Petrovna herself. That’s who poor Mary was talking about. There’s no question about her obvious beauty and she knows it. She looks down at my two hair braids with amusement. What is she here for? And is she talking about my seating choice? I meant no disrespect when I chose it.
I look down at where I’m sitting and back to her. “…It’s a chair.”
Thomas walks up behind her and sees where she’s looking. “That’s my chair. ‘S alright, you can-”
“It’s his chair,” the duchess states. “Move.”
Is she serious? Stay calm, Steenstra. You’ll only provoke her.
“It’s still just a chair, miss. He says I can sit in it.”
Her narrowed gaze doesn’t falter. “Move.”
I keep the same cool tone. “No.”
“Or else you will be moved.”
A hint of American attitude makes my face twitch into a look that dares her to continue. “Try me, duchess.”
Her jaw drops and Thomas steps forward trying to calm the storm. “Ladies, please. Mary, could we please get some tea?”
The duchess ignores his attempt and keeps looking at me. “He is your boss. You need to respect-”
“I respect Mr. Shelby just fine,” I respond evenly. “It’s you who’s out of place. You are a guest at Arrow House. I suggest you treat your host with respect. Good day.”
She resumes her stunned silence as I stand up and strut past them. Behind me I can already hear the complaining.
“…Let her speak to a Duchess like that?” she asks.
“You have your ways, the Americans have theirs. I don’t interfere.”
Just because she’s a rich duchess sleeping with him doesn’t mean she can order us around with an iron fist. I climb the stairs to Charlie’s room trying to clear the grudge from my thoughts. The bedroom door opens and the nanny steps out.
“He’s asking for his father. Shall I go fetch him?”
“Oh, no. I just saw Mr. Shelby downstairs. I’ll go get him.”
I pivot back to the stairs despite the internal urge to be as far away from the Russian royal as possible. Stay strong. It’s for Charlie. And if she wants to get on my nerves then she’ll face the bull head-on.
I see the couple walking down the hall. “Thomas! Charlie wants you.”
The gangster leader excuses himself and jogs past me, giving me a grateful nod. I take a deep breath and finish descending the stairs to where the duchess is. Time to set things straight.
“What are you doing?” 
“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask in a low but demanding voice. “The poor man just lost his wife and you’re playing him like a bitch in heat!”
She doesn’t flinch. “Grief can take many forms.”
Not Thomas. This isn’t how he grieves. He likes to be alone. 
I signal for the housekeeper. “Mary, may I please have some whiskey?”
She notices my situation and nods. “Of course, Ms. Steenstra.”
But the duchess isn’t satisfied with my request. “Why ask? Demand it! She will have-”
My face flinches to look at her with murderous eyes. “Get out. Go.”
Her jaw drops. “This is not your house-”
“Then get the fuck away from me before I do something regretful.”
Now she smirks at my temper. “Are Americans this rude?”
My fists clench. “Americans do not look down to people who are not wealthy or of royal blood.”
“There’s fire in your eyes but you tame it. Could you kill me? Would you kill for love?”
“Murder for selfish intentions is not something I will stain myself with,” I state harshly and notice Thomas returning from Charlie’s room. “Excuse me, Thomas.”
Before he can respond I rush back to the door. I don’t wait to hear any more. How can he stand this woman? Lizzie is one thing but at least she gives me a fraction of respect. Petrovna only sees me as nothing but a tourist servant. As much as I was looking forward to seeing Charlie I will not be stable as long as that woman is around. 
Foreign relations consultant, indeed. I will stand my ground. No more waiting. It’s time to take charge for a change and bring my own tricks of the trade to the table.
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sl-newsie · 3 months ago
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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 39: Reminiscing Heartbreak
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By the time I drive into Birmingham it’s nightfall. It’s no secret that there are Peaky Blinders following me because they’re as discrete as peacocks. I park the car and walk up the path to Ada’s house, spotting Karl in the window waiting for me. The door opens and Ada welcomes me with open arms.
“It’s so good to see you! You definitely need a break from all that testosterone.”
I let out a cross between a laugh and a groan. “Now I understand what you Shelby women go through when men get injured in battle. Every time I checked on Thomas I feared the worst.”
She pulls me into the warm house and leads me to the parlor. “Enough talk of that. Tonight is about us girls, eh? Oh, and Karl too, of course. I sent him to play upstairs.”
“Where’s Polly?”
Ada smirks and lounges on the couch. “Out to see her new portrait. I practically had to kick her out to go have a date for once.”
It’s good to hear she’s finally having a life outside of work! But if I know Polly her son isn’t far away. She clings to him like a mother bear.
“Michael?”
Ada jerks her head. “Asleep across the hall. I think. So...” Her face changes to one itching to talk gossip. “What are my brothers up to now?”
I sigh deeply and sink into my own seat, my head leaning back to stare at the ceiling. “Lord if I know. Might all be off fucking somewhere.” My voice shifts to a quieter tone. “Do you- Do you miss that, Ada?”
The question surprises her. “Sex?”
I swallow my nerves. “Yes.”
She thinks for a minute. “Actually… no. Karl is all I need. I’m a mother, and now an official employee of Shelby Company Limited.” She pauses to look at me. “You’re still a virgin, eh?”
I scrunch my eyes together bashfully. “Yes. And sometimes I feel completely out of place here. I am no holy woman but sometimes I feel as if I’m a nun compared to those brutes. Oh, here.” Before my nerves can wipe my mind clean I hold up the basket I’m holding. “I didn’t know if you’d eaten yet so I brought food.”
Ada claps in delight and jumps up to grab some plates. “Would you like a drink? Wine, rum?”
A drink right now sounds heavenly. “I’m beginning to test wine. Do you have any whiskey?”
Ada rolls her eyes and points across the room. “In the cupboard. God, between you and Michael it’s like Tommy’s trying to get you both hooked on it.”
Eureka! A fresh bottle. I pour a small glass and take a sampling sip. A twitch of homesickness tugs at my heart. Still not as good as vader’s whiskey. It’s been so long since I last saw the streets of Brooklyn. I swear if I stay longer moeder’s going to sail straight over and reprimand me herself.
“Since Tommy’s better now, are you going back to the office?” Ada asks.
I huff a sarcastic laugh. “If I do, Esme's hormones will kill me. Were you like that when you were pregnant?”
The Shelby sister chuckles. “You saw me. I’d eat complete garbage and then throw it up. But I never felt trapped like Esme does.” She takes a sip of wine. “Do you plan on traveling, then? After all, if you're going to work with foreign relations then you need to be elsewhere besides Arrow House.”
“That is true.”
“Now back to sex,” Ada states bluntly and looks right at me. “Do you want it?”
My throat tightens and I almost forget how to breathe. Never in a million years would this be a normal topic to discuss at home. Being a girl with five brothers in a religious household, not mentioning sex is like an unspoken rule. We just don’t. But being placed in an environment where mentioning sex is like talking about the weather has certainly changed my perspective on things. Not mindless lustful thoughts, no. But more curiosity.
“I- I… It’s complicated. The idea of sex seems scandalous if one is not married. You of all people know how hard things are if you have a child out of wedlock.” Ada nods and expects me to continue. “I’ll go on a date first, Ada.”
She smiles and shakes her head. “So proper. Why don’t you try for Tommy again? I’ve never seen him keep a girl around this long and not fuck her. He must have some feelings for you.”
Deep down I know she’s right. I’ve been dancing around the chance to ask Thomas if he cares for me and I should not any longer, especially after the last attempt on his life.
“I could try… But when would be the best time? He’s too busy with whatever plan he’s got.”
Ada snaps her fingers. “In two days we’re doing a publicity event at the Grace Shelby Institute for Orphaned Children. After that his schedule shouldn’t be busy. You can ask him then.”
Possibly. But I still have doubts. This event is taking place at an institute named after Thomas’ late wife. How can that not stir up recent sorrows? It will be foolish to ask such a thing in that environment. 
“Something will fall into place,” I answer gently. “The right time will come.”
Ada gives a deep sigh. “You’ve always backed off about your love for Tommy, Verena. My question is, after all he’s done, how can you still harbor feelings for him?”
My gaze catches onto a bird in flight outside the window. In the glimpse of a few seconds I ponder her question and deduct a response to soothe both our minds.
“Because people never see Thomas as I do. They only see the Birmingham devil who won’t hesitate to kill. I see a tortured soul who’s persevered through war, loss, and hardship. Even when he may do the most stubborn, arrogant thing he does it all for the ones he loves. That, Ada, is what I love most about Thomas Shelby.”
Although I can’t have him or force him to feel the same, his mark on my heart will never fade. As hard as I try to see past it and stretch my romance to someone new the thought does not take hold. When I picture the future all I want to see is being in a life with Thomas, whether it be as an employee or a good friend. A new realization dawns and I understand my given sentence. I have been cursed to love Thomas Shelby.
All night I drift in and out of visions. Through quick glances I am scolded by my family, cheered on by Ada, and taunted by seeing Thomas’ lips mere inches from mine. Each time I wake up gasping for breath and reaching for nothing in the inky darkness. Lord, what can change so that I don’t feel so confused?
Eventually morning does come and I slowly trudge down the stairs. In the dining room I see Ada and Karl eating oatmeal. One skinny man sits a few seats over reading the paper. Must be the writer. Another face I recognize is Finn, who’s scarfing down his own oatmeal.
“Good morning,” I greet quietly and take a seat next to him. “Did Ada spill that I was here?”
“Actually he just popped in,” Ada says. “When I mentioned you were upstairs Finn was ecstatic. Hence why he’s waiting for you and devouring half of our breakfast.”
Finn swallows and looks down with a sheepish frown. “I can’t help it! No one made breakfast this morning. Polly’s still gone and the others haven’t come back from the whore house yet.”
I nearly choke on the juice I’m drinking. “Whore house? Finn, what are you talking about?”
“Last night,” he says as if I should already know. “The Russian house they went to is supposed to have all sorts of whores.”
My jaw drops. Two of the three of those men are married, and the other is grieving his wife! 
“What the fuck is going through their heads?” I blurt.
Now Finn’s jaw drops and Ada rushes to cover Karl’s ears. The writer looks at me as if I just barked like a dog.
“Whoa. You swore.”
I offer Ada a look of apology and regain my composure. “I have full confidence in my character compared to some. One swear is not going to cast out my soul.”
“If you're upset at that then you really won’t like it when you hear about the robbery Tommy has planned,” Finn says in a low voice.
Robbery? So that’s what Thomas has been hiding.
“When are they supposed to be back?” I ask evenly with spite hidden underneath, staring straight ahead.
“I donno. Sometime this afternoon?”
“Good. We can kill some time until then. Today’s lesson is poetry.”
I stiffly get up and march to Ada’s library, fetching a familiar book I saw last night. When I return to the dining room Ada’s taken Karl off to play and the writer’s set down his newspaper to take part in our lesson. Finn, however, doesn’t look as intrigued. I set the book down in front of him and he frowns as soon as he looks at the first page.
“Um, no offense, but that’s boring stuff only writers study. Like Shakespeare and stuff.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Says the man who used to hate reading. I’m not teaching anything of the heartfelt romantic sort.” I’m way too stressed about that already. “Today’s lesson has to do with Edgar Allan Poe.”
“An American?”
“Correct. Quite an odd one, at that. Some say he was mad.” I point to the back cover. “This is his picture.”
Finn nods slowly. “He does look bonkers.”
“A hundred years ago it was considered a sign of insanity if you smiled in a photograph.” I point a finger at him. “Remember, no one can define normal. A hundred years from now we might have completely different standards. Hell, it might be normal for women to wear trousers. So don’t judge Poe so harshly.”
I turn to the page describing Poe’s history and I can tell Finn’s already forgetting his thoughts against this lesson. The writer, on the other hand, doesn’t seem interested and walks off towards the parlor.
“He was born in Boston, the same place Thomas is expanding to, and raised in Virginia. That’s in the South,” I explain. “By the time he was thirteen, Poe loved writing poetry but his foster father didn’t approve. After returning from being in debt to college and gambling, Poe found out that his fiancée was engaged to someone else.”
Finn looks up at me and we’re each thinking the same thing. Much like me, Poe’s story does not have a happy ending.
“Heartbroken, Poe moved back to Boston. He published his first book and joined the U.S. army around 1827. By the time he returned to Virginia, his foster mother had died of tuberculosis. Poe temporarily made peace with his foster father while he attended West Point but fought with him again after hearing that his foster father had remarried.”
Finn huffs. “Sounds like when we’d argue with our dad. This Poe bloke didn’t have the best dad either.”
I nod and continue. “Poe began writing full time and traveled around America’s East Coast looking for inspiration. He struggled through poverty until his writing became more popular and he began a job as a critic in the Southern Literary Messengers. His new aggressive style and issues with drinking conflicted with his job. He drifted through different publication positions but it was The Raven poem that made Poe's writing so popular.” I flip the page to one with an illustration of a black raven. “It's one one of the most famous poems in American literature.”
Finn nods. “All this fuss over a creepy bird?”
A smile deviously. “Just wait and we’ll read it. Anyways. In 1836, Poe married his cousin Virginia at age 27- I know. Gross, right? Eleven years later she too passed away from tuberculosis. Poe was overcome by grief and suffered from poor health until his death in 1849. His final words were: ‘Lord, help my poor soul.’”
Finn’s eyes widen and I lean in to whisper for dramatic effect.
“It’s said that Poe died of congestion of the brain, but the actual cause of his death remains a mystery. Although he never gained financial success, Poe became one of America’s most enduring writers. His work explored death and loss, and what we call reality. Some quotes you might hear are ‘All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream’ and ‘I have no faith in human perfectibility.’”
The young Shelby drops his gaze to the poem and immediately starts skimming the words. It takes a bit longer to understand the language but I’m impressed at how quickly he picks up. Mouthing the words under his breath, Finn takes almost twenty minutes to read the whole poem. When he gets to the last sentence Finn’s squirming body stills and he looks up.
“Tommy might want to read this. It’s-”
“I don’t think Thomas would like it,” I cut him off. Oh no, Finn. Thomas does not need to read depressing poems from a heartbroken writer.
“Why not?”
I bite my lip. “You read it. It’s about a man reminiscing about his dead lover. It wouldn’t be wise to expose Thomas to a poem with a plot that reflects his own.”
So goes another reminder of why I can’t yet fully open my thoughts to him.
@meadows5
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