Chapter Text
Two years later…
(Y/N) heard the explosion from down the street. Instantly, their hand was on their pistol, and they ran into the Small Heath streets. Their eyes swiveled across the streets, but all they could see were people running from the flames engulfing the building. (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, and they looked at the remains of stone and wood. A few metal wheels were rolling through the smoke-covered ground, like that on a pram.
Pram. (Y/N)’s gaze swung across the crowd again. It would have been easy, too easy. No one gave a woman a second glance if she was dressed plainly. And it had worked—there were no signs of the perpetrators of the attack. This wasn’t to make a point. (Y/N) tilted their head. So a message. No one could bomb the Garrison without getting Tommy Shelby’s attention.
(Y/N) sighed. This could set back the expansion of Shelby Company, LTD. Carefully, they put their pistol back in their belt and readjusted their suit jacket so it obscured the weapon.
Car wheels clattered to a stop, and (Y/N) glanced over to see Tommy descending, surveying the damage done to the Garrison. He was still wearing the black suit he’d donned for Freddie Thorne’s funeral. Behind him, the other Shelbys in black got out of the cars, all gazing at the destroyed pub.
Tommy saw the copper standing between civilians and the work putting out the fire, but he went directly to (Y/N) when he saw them. “What did you see?” He knew it was best to get to the point; that was how (Y/N)’s mind worked.
“Metal wheels rolling away,” said (Y/N). “The people who did this disguised as women with the-the pushing chairs.”
“You saw them or you’re guessing?” Tommy trusted it either way, but he needed precision to decide how to proceed.
“Guessing,” said (Y/N). “People don’t look for suspicious women.”
Tommy nodded. “And you’re alright?”
(Y/N) tilted their head. “The Garrison was closed. Why would I be in danger?”
Tommy let out a long breath and just nodded. Over two years, he’d gotten used to their way of thinking—as much as a person could, that was. The now-seventeen-year-old was practical and straightforward, and that meant it was easy to be plain with them as well. Tommy didn’t expect that to change in (Y/N), so he adapted. It was simple, really. (Y/N) fit.
“Come on,” said Tommy, moving towards the police officer. (Y/N) followed, and Polly joined them while Arthur and John began to check on the surrounding Shelby buildings.
“It happened at exactly seven o’clock,” said the officer, not waiting for Tommy to ask him questions. “Nobody saw anything. Our patrols were not in the area.” Tommy looked around the shattered glass. “Mr. Shelby, do you have any idea who might have done it?”
“I’d say it was something to do with the gas,” remarked Tommy. He cleared his throat and held out a bill to the copper. “It’s just been fitted.”
(Y/N) stepped forward and cleared the threshold.
“Excuse me, the structure is not yet declared safe,” said the officer. (Y/N) ignored him and knelt in the debris, boots cracking glass and splintered wood. “Oi!”
(Y/N) straightened, and Polly watched them hold up a green scrap of paper. “Confetti?” she observed.
“It’s all over the not burned areas,” said (Y/N).
Tommy looked at the officer. “You can go.”
“Right.” The copper quickly headed off.
Polly looked at Tommy. “Who? Who did this to us?”
Tommy’s gaze remained unchanged. He knew, though. He checked his watch. “I’m headed to the Black Lion.” He turned and walked away.
Irish. (Y/N) kept their expression calm. They were curious, but they knew better than to ask. Tommy kept things close to himself. And (Y/N) knew better than to assume they were part of the family or something of the sort. They were an employee. They did their job.
That being said, they had enjoyed their job for the past two years more than the boring, odd-end jobs they’d taken in Birmingham before that. With the Shelbys, things were interesting. (Y/N) didn’t have to look into the faces of people that wore everything on their sleeve without being able to do anything with that knowledge. Tommy asked them to watch and tell him when someone was lying, when something didn’t fit. They had found rats and noticed when information was held back. Tommy let their mind whir and didn’t tell them to stop thinking.
“(Y/N),” said Polly. “We need to check on the books.”
(Y/N) nodded. That meant check the workers doing the books for the tracks. They followed Polly. She was another person they liked, steadfast and smart. Like Tommy, she accepted (Y/N)’s mind and the way it worked. She didn’t ask where the suppositions came from, she just asked for their opinion. It was nice.
(Y/N) felt comfortable with the Shelbys.
Polly and (Y/N) entered the workrooms, and John straightened as they went to go over some books. After the Garrison attack, some people may scatter in fear, and (Y/N) had to see, from past behavior, who the most likely was.
“Polly, (Y/N),” greeted John. “Did he say who did it?”
(Y/N) didn’t answer, eyes scanning the numbers and names and dates. Who had run the last time there was a police incident? Who had almost pulled out? Who would they entice back to the races?
“He’s gone to the Black Lion,” said Polly.
“On his own?” said John.
“Tommy does everything on his own,” said Polly, lighting a cigarette.
“He drags the rookie around with him,” said John.
“Because no one looks at them and they look at everyone else,” said Polly. “They’re helpful.”
(Y/N) paused and looked up before looking down at the papers again. They…liked being appreciated.
John grumbled. “Should I go there?”
“What?” said Polly as if he was stupid.
“Should I go see him?” asked John.
“No,” said Polly. She looked at (Y/N). “Have the names?”
“There’s only a few,” said (Y/N), writing them down.
“Have we dealt with them before?” asked Polly.
“Yes. They’re skit—skitting?”
“Skittish,” said Polly.
(Y/N) nodded. “We tell them there’s no problem, keep to the gas story, and they’ll come back.”
“Excellent,” said Polly. She took the names (Y/N) and headed from the room, (Y/N) with her.
“Where the fuck is Arthur?” asked John.
“Protecting the Garrison’s whiskey from the police,” said Polly, handing the papers to another worker, giving a quick order, and heading towards the house portion of the building.
(Y/N) stepped inside. The house was quaint but cozy. They had been invited in more times than they could count at that point. Polly insisted on making sure they were fed, particularly since (Y/N) had accidentally forgotten once or twice when too engrossed in their work. They liked the Shelby house. It felt like a home.
John closed the doors. “Polly.” He glanced at (Y/N), and they shifted. They could see that he wanted them to leave. John wasn’t a huge fan of them, all-in-all. He didn’t seem to mind them, but he also didn’t understand why Tommy would keep them around and so close. (Y/N) glanced to the door, but before they could leave, Polly handed them a glass of whiskey. That meant they stayed.
Merde. (Y/N) kept their gaze elsewhere as John looked at Polly.
“Feels like things are getting out of hand,” said John.
“So get ‘em in hand,” said Polly.
“Know what Ada said to me this morning?” said John. “She said we all look like we work in a factory, under the ground. She said we look like ghosts.” He pointed at (Y/N). “She said that Tommy is an idiot for dragging them around all this business for two years for no reason and that they look like a machine.”
(Y/N) considered. They concluded that he wasn’t entirely wrong, but they also saw no problem with it all.
“Ada will be back,” said Polly, rolling a cigarette.
“When?” asked John.
“When she needs us,” said Polly.
And because Freddie had died and she had a young son, (Y/N) knew it would happen relatively soon. Ada was tough and smart and would last for a while, but, ultimately, the cards were stacked against women in this world.
“And, anyway, who the fuck would blow up our pub?” said John.
“A long list of people,” said (Y/N). John looked at them. “A lot of people don’t like the Shelbys.” That was a fact of life.
“Everyone knows not to fuck with us,” said John, scowling.
“Six,” said Polly.
John frowned. “Six what?”
“Six questions since you walked through that door,” said Polly. “Soon you’ll have to start being the man with the answers.” She sat down by the fireplace.
“Why?” said John.
“Seven.” Polly put her feet up. “When London happens, you’ll have to hold up your end. Or we’ll find someone else who can.”
John bit his cheek and glared at (Y/N) before stalking out to handle his side of business. (Y/N) looked at Polly. “He’s upset with me.”
“Probably,” said Polly.
(Y/N) tilted their head. “Why?”
“Because you’re you, Rookie,” said Polly, voice fond. She watched them blink at her. “And being you means you’re a natural at all this. You know that by now.”
(Y/N) nodded slowly. “I do.” They watched Polly take a long drag of her cigarette. “Do you think Tommy’s plans for London are going to be a danger?”
“When are Tommy’s plans not a risk?” said Polly. She looked at them. “What do you think?”
(Y/N) looked at the drink in their hand. “I’m not family.” The Shelby family discussed business. They were an employee. They just happened to be around more often.
Polly was tempted to roll her eyes. (Y/N) was as good as family at this point—who else would Tommy trust to be at tense meetings? They stood beside him, her, and Arthur and would pin people down with their eyes until they were stuttering over their attempted lies. That was family. But Polly said nothing, she just took a drag of her cigarette. (Y/N) would likely break down if they heard those words aloud, she had learned that much about them. And Tommy wouldn’t like his own feelings being revealed.
“I asked you what you think,” said Polly. “You know I can take your honesty.”
(Y/N) glanced at Polly and then back at their drink. “I think…” (Y/N) tried to find the right words. “I think it’s a risk that could give a great reward. But it’s a risk. A lot of people could be hurt. I know that London is serious.”
“Do you think the risk is too great?” said Polly. She wondered if it was, sometimes. She wanted peace for her family. Tommy wanted something greater.
“Tommy is serious, too. London will underestimate him. That could be leveraged.” (Y/N) furrowed their brow. “But the Garrison—if it’s about London, it means someone knows already. That’s dangerous. And if it’s not…things will be complicated.”
Polly nodded. Wise. Measured. True. “Is this you saying you support the attempt to move into London?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s going to happen,” said (Y/N). They knew that much. All they could do was prepare.
“Well.” Polly glanced at them. “You may get to put that gun to use by the time this is done.”
(Y/N)’s hand flexed reflexively at their side. It was the one tell they had and could not quash.
Polly watched them, smirked, and looked back at the fire. “I’m keeping you from work.” That would make (Y/N) more comfortable. “I’ll see you at the meeting later.”
(Y/N) nodded. They would be at the meeting, like Charlie and Tug-Boat. But they wouldn’t speak. Only family spoke.
l
The evening air had long settled over Small Heath by the time the entirety of the Shelby family and their most trusted compatriots were gathered in the betting house. (Y/N) scanned the crowd, mind whirring—as it always did. It never stopped. Charlie and Tug Boat were murmuring to each other about horses, the usual. Polly was deep in thought, likely considering the different ways her family was being frustrating—she was the heart. Esme was on the stairs, supposedly reading, but her eyes slipped to John, who was pacing, every few seconds. The pair had likely had a private discussion before this meeting. Arthur was examining his knuckles, bruised from boxing. (Y/N) knew that incidents of his lashing out were growing more frequent, and the boxing was more violent. That was a bomb waiting to explode. Finn sat silently at the table, smoking.
“Right.” John spoke after a particularly long look from Esme. “Before Tommy gets here, there’s a few things we need to get straight between us.”
“You think?” said Polly, raising her brow at the specific mention to not wait for Tommy.
“Yeah, I do. I want to know…when did we all take a vote on this expansion south?” said John.
Polly looked at John, arms crossed. Dangerous. “You have anything to say, you wait for Thomas.”
“Polly is fucking right,” said Arthur.
(Y/N) nodded unconsciously. They froze their movements. That was unusual. They were typically controlled.
“I see all the books. Legal and off-track. Saw stuff you don’t see.” John laced his hands behind his back officially. “In the past year, the Shelby Company Limited has been making a hundred-fifty pounds a day. Right?! A fucking day. Sometimes more. So what I want to know is why are we changing things?” He looked at Polly. “Polly, look what’s happened already. We haven’t even set foot in London yet, they’ve already blown up our pub.”
It might be something else that got the Garrison blown up. (Y/N) didn’t suppose that made the situation better, though.
“Who said anything about the Cockneys?” said Arthur, exactly the thought (Y/N) had.
“Who else?” scoffed Esme.
Polly’s eyes went to Esme. “You know who did it?”
“No, she doesn’t know who did it,” said John.
Footsteps echoed, and John tensed. Tommy rounded the corner, looking dour. (Y/N) watched his expression, tense and irritated. Whatever he had discovered, it wasn’t something that pleased him.
Esme’s eyes went back to her book. “I’m told only family are allowed to speak.”
“Everybody’s allowed to speak,” said Tommy. “On your feet Esme. Let’s hear what you have to say.”
Esme looked at John. He cleared his throat. “I speak for our household.”
And Esme speaks through you, thought (Y/N).
“So, could—”
“John.” Tommy shut him down instantly. “This company is a modern enterprise and believes in equal rights for women. On your feet, Esme.”
Esme finally stood. She faced the room. “I am not a blood member of this family.”
Polly’s eyes drifted to (Y/N), who was watching Esme carefully.
“But perhaps because I am not a member, I can see things in a different light,” continued Esme. “So I will get to my point.”
“That would be nice,” said Polly.
“As my husband said, Shelby Company Limited is now very successful. But London…I have kin in Shepherds Bush and Portobello. It’s more like wars between armies down there.” Esme looked at Tommy warningly. “And the coppers fight side-by-side with them. And there are foreigners of every description.”
Tommy glanced at (Y/N). He very much doubted foreigners could get stranger than them.
“And the use of bombs is the least of it,” warned Esme. “I have a child. Blessed with the Shelby family good looks. I want John to see him grow up. I want us to someday live somewhere with fresh air and trees. And keep chickens or something. But London is just smoke and trouble, Thomas.”
“ ‘Thomas?’ ” echoed Polly. Only she called him Thomas.
“That’s all I have to say,” said Esme.
“That was a lot of words.” Arthur nodded lackadaisically.
Drunk, noted (Y/N).
“A lot of words,” repeated Arthur. He handed Tommy a glass. “Wash them down with a nice drink.”
“Thank you, Esme,” said Tommy, taking the glass and sipping it. “Firstly, the bang in the pub had nothing to do with London. Understood? The bang is something I’m dealing with on my own.”
(Y/N) watched him examine everyone’s face to make sure they understood. They didn’t. But they didn’t question it. Not quite yet. Curiosity killed the chat. That’s what the English said, wasn’t it? Well, (Y/N) had nearly died before.
“Secondly, we have nothing to fear from the business expansion so long as we stick together,” said Tommy. “After the first few weeks, nine-tenths of what we do in London, it will be legal. The other tenth is in good hands. Isn’t that right, Arthur?”
“That’s right,” said Arthur solemnly.
“Some of you have expressed your reservations. Fair enough,” said Tommy. “Any of you who want no part in the future of this company, walk out the door. Right now.” He looked at John, who avoided eye contact. “Go and raise your chickens. But those of you with ambition?” Tommy looked at (Y/N), who met his gaze, as always, completely evenly. There was no flinching in their gaze. Tommy approved. “The expansion process begins tomorrow.”
(Y/N) blinked. That was soon. Polly stared. John gritted his teeth. Arthur smirked. Tommy put out his cigarette.