Hello everyone! Thank you so much for giving this story a chance and the lovely reviews I have received so far - I am overwhelmed by the response! Sorry this took so long to get started. I wanted to make sure I was satisfied with how events would unfold and characters would build before I started. Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy!

Thomas Shelby

Father: Arthur Shelby Sr.

Mother: Anne Shelby (deceased)

Sibling/s: Arthur Shelby Jr, Ada Shelby, John Shelby, Finn Shelby

6 Watery Lane, Small Heath, Birmingham

Peaky Blinders gang forerunner

Military Medal, Distinguished Conduct Medal

Chester Campbell processed the information as he read from the file in his hands. This was him; the main suspect of his investigation. The inspector's hands almost shook with anticipation. He recollected the names he had happened upon in the files so far; Arthur Shelby Jr., Ada Shelby, John Shelby, Finn Shelby, Polly Gray, Freddie Thorne and Thomas Shelby. Placing the file onto the pile beside him, he picked up the final document. A young woman's picture stared up at him.

Margaret Anderson

Father: James Anderson (deceased)

Mother: Dorothy Anderson (deceased)

Sibling/s: Charles Anderson (deceased)

21 Blenheim Road, Small Heath, Birmingham

Peaky Binders gang associate

Volunteer British Army nurse

Campbell took another moment to look at her pretty features before closing the file. He allowed a smug grin to appear on his face as he turned to watch the country blur past the carriage's window. The grin remained for the entirety of the journey to Birmingham.

"Morning Mrs Baker, how is Benjamin?" Maggie cheerfully greeted her neighbour as she passed by.

The woman returned a smile, "Oh, he has recovered well. Thank y-"

She stopped suddenly. Maggie's brow creased in confusion as the older woman's face paled and her eyes widened.

"Mrs Baker?"

The woman did not respond. She observed that she was staring straight past her toward the street. Turning to see what had startled the woman, Maggie noticed that the once bustling street had fallen into a complete silence - except for the soft sound of hooves hitting against mud.

Maggie almost laughed when the crowd disbanded to reveal Thomas Shelby riding down the street on a magnificent white horse. She shook her head in amusement as she watched people retreat to the pavements to allow him through. The women pulled their children closer and seemed to avoid making eye contact. The men politely tipped their hats to him. It was as if King George himself was parading down the alley, with the cheering replaced by a respectful quiet. Maggie almost felt the need to curtsey as his eyes found her and directed the horse to stop in front of where she stood.

Slowly approaching the horse, she looked up at him, "What the bloody hell are you doing with that horse at this time of morning?"

Of course, she received no response. He just looked at her. Thomas Shelby was a man of mystery. She would never expect to get an answer from him, let alone an honest one. Maggie was well aware he used this silence as an intimidation technique. In the streets he had to live up to his public persona: Thomas Shelby. Sergeant Major, illegal bookmaker, gangster. But to her, he was Tommy. Just Tommy. Schoolmate, confidant, friend.

Shaking her head at his reserved demeanour, Maggie moved forward to stroke the horse's mane. As her hand caressed the horse's muzzle, her gaze was drawn to minute traces of a red powder.

Realising what the substance meant, Maggie chuckled and looked back up to the man, "Arthur is going to murder you."

She watched as the smallest hint of a smile appeared on the gangster's face. This only confirmed her suspicions that Tommy had gone to the Chinese to perform a powder trick on the horse. He was fixing races again. He nodded at her. Taking it as a dismissal, Maggie stepped back from the horse, gave a small wave and watched as he continued to pace down the street. Once he and the horse were out of view, the resounding commotion of the busy street returned.

Maggie gave a polite smile to Mrs Baker before resuming her walk to the Shelby household.

Once at the door of 6 Watery Lane, she gave a small knock. Maggie heard small yet boisterous footsteps fast approaching before the door opened to reveal the youngest of the Shelby siblings.

"Maggie!" Finn beamed.

"Hello, little man," she gleefully greeted, "Are you ready for our lesson?"

The smile on the boy's face seemed to falter slightly at the mention of work. He nodded and moved aside to allow her into the house. She ruffled his hair as she passed him in the hallway, much to the boy's displeasure. Sticking his tongue out at her, he ran past and yelled up the stairs, "Auntie Pol! Maggie's here!"

Maggie placed her satchel onto the dining room table and pulled out a chair for herself and Finn. The boy sat beside her and looked at her expectantly.

"We are going to do some reading today, that alright?" Maggie asked. The boy nodded in response, "Good."

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out three novels and placed them onto the table in front of him.

"Right, so we have 'The Secret Garden', 'Alice in Wonderland' or 'The Three Musketeers'. Pick one."

Finn leant over the table to inspect the books. His face scrunched into a contemplative look as he studied their covers.

"This one," he decided, pointing to 'Alice in Wonderland'.

Maggie smiled warmly, "of course. Do you want me to start off and then you can have a go?"

The boy nodded as his aunt entered the room, "'Alice in Wonderland', eh?"

Polly gave an approving nod as she looked at the book over Maggie's shoulder.

"Morning," the women smiled at each other before Maggie continued, "Do you know it, Pol?"

"I think I saw a play of it once when I was a little girl. That cat gave me nightmares for weeks," she quipped as she walked to the kitchen, "Tea?"

"Yes please," Maggie answered. Just then, a clamorous banging could be heard as someone descended the stairs. The three watched as the girl rushed past them and to the door.

"Ada?" Polly shouted, "Where are you going?"

"See you later, Pol," the girl quickly called back before slamming the door shut behind her.

Maggie stared at the door, stunned, "What was that all about?"

"I dunno," Polly shrugged, "But I'm worried there's a man involved."

Maggie shared a baffled glance with Polly before turning back to Finn, "so, 'Alice in Wonderland'."

"If there is a play, can't I just watch that instead?"

"No, Finn," Maggie smirked at his slyness, "I promised to have you reading by the time you hit fifteen and that's going to take a lot of work. No offence."

"Who'd you promise?"

"Your brother."

"Which one?"

"Come on, let's get started now. I have to go and watch your nieces and nephews at two."

Finn turned to her, crossed his legs on the chair and rested his head on his palm. Thanking Polly as she placed the tea on the table in front of her, Maggie picked up the book. Opening the first page, she cleared her throat, "Chapter One; Down the Rabbit Hole. Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sis-"

"Morning, everyone," the voice of Tommy invaded the room as he came through the doorway.

"Morning," the others greeted as he removed his jacket and placed it on the stand. Turning to the three in the room, he noticed the book in Maggie's hands.

"'Alice in Wonderland'?" he raised an eyebrow at Maggie.

"Finn's going to take over in a bit. He'll be reciting 'Crime and Punishment' in no time," Maggie grinned.

Tommy slowly nodded back to her and made his way over to the double doors. Before he had the chance to touch the handles, Finn called out to him, "Arthur is mad as Hell."

The older Shelby brother turned to him with a small smirk, "What does a 10 year old know about Hell?"

"He lives in the Shelby household, doesn't he?" Maggie grinned. Tommy returned it in amusement.

"I'm 11 Sunday!" Finn defended himself. This caused all three adults in the room to chuckle.

Tommy then turned and opened the doors to the betting shop before stepping in.

Maggie turned back to the book in her hands, "Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes. Alice was beginning to get very ti-"

"TOMMY!"

Both Maggie and Finn giggled as they heard Arthur's bellowing voice through the doors.

"We told you so," Maggie smugly remarked under her breath.

A little while later, John came through the doors of the betting shop. He noticed Maggie immediately, a large, boyish grin finding its way onto his face.

Just as he went to speak, Maggie looked up at him, smiling sweetly before placing her finger to her lips and motioning to the young boy sat beside her.

John turned to his younger brother, who was hunched over a book on the table, a determined look on his features as he slowly attempted to read the words, "down went Alice.. af-ter it..never once co-con-cons-"

"Considering," Maggie aided.

"Never once considering...how in the wo-rld she was to get out ag-ain."

The young boy looked up a her, pride shining in his eyes as he finished the sentence. Maggie beamed back at him, "Excellent, Finn! You're doing so well!"

John walked behind them and peered over at the book, "'Alice in Wonderland'? Isn't that a girl's-"

"Finish that sentence, John, and I will give you a slap," Maggie warned, teasing.

John chuckled, taking a seat the other side of her, his arm resting on the back of her chair, "What time is your shift later?"

"Seven, so I can watch them for a couple of hours," Maggie replied with a kind smile, already knowing the purpose of his question, "I was planning on heading over around two."

His grin grew as he leant forward and kissed her cheek, "Maggie, you are a star."

"I know," she smirked as she fought back a blush, watching him leave the room.

Tommy had gone to the Garrison later that day and found himself being confronted by Freddie Thorne.

"…on the list was your name and my name together," his childhood friend and commrade retorted, "Now what kind of list would have the name of a Communist and the name of a bookmaker side-by-side?"

Tommy turned to the man, a half-smile on his lips, "Perhaps it is a list of men who give false hope to the poor."

He watched as Freddie's face fell before continuing in a low voice, "The only difference between me and you, Freddie, is that sometimes my horses stand a chance of winning."

The two men continued to glare at each other for a moment before the doors to the pub flung open.

"Tommy!" Maggie ran up to him, her cheeks flushed and hiding a smile, "I have to tell you about what's just happened."

She then noticed the man beside him at the bar, "oh, hello Freddie. How is everything?"

Freddie looked at her before glancing back at Tommy, "Good, just catching up with ol' Tom-boy here."

Maggie watched as Tommy sent another glare his way. She knew there was hostility between them and had been for some while now. They used to be friends. They would play together in the street; the Shelby's, Freddie, Maggie and her brother, Charles. But things weren't as they were before. The War had changed everything.

Freddie moved closer to the other man and practically growled, "You know, there are days when I hear about the cuttings and beatings that I wish I'd let you take that bullet in France."

Maggie almost stepped in to scold him but decided against it. This was their business and she wouldn't get involved. She merely stood and watched as Tommy stared blankly at him before replying in an equally low tone, "There are nights I wish you had."

There was a silence.

Maggie knew Tommy suffered terribly from nightmares about the war. Almost everyone who saw the front suffered, herself included. The War destroyed lives, even those who survived the shelling. She could already tell he didn't regularly sleep, the increasingly dark circles under his eyes were clear evidence of that. Sometimes she would stay late to help the boys by clearing up the betting shop. She would hear the muffled whimpers coming through his room and try her best to calm him. Maggie found reading was the best way to send him to a peaceful sleep and distract his mind from whatever nightmare he was reliving. She had thought of finding someone else to help him, a doctor of some sort. However, she knew he would not want anyone knowing of this. It would ruin his image. So, she kept it to herself.

Maggie sighed as Freddie gave one final scowl before storming over to his workmates.

"So," he began, turning to her, "What's happened?"

Maggie leant against the bar, "Well, I let Finn go for a quick break from reading but after an hour he still wasn't home. I went looking for him and found him by the docks. With a gun."

Tommy startled, "A gun?"

Maggie nodded, "He was shooting at a bottle floating in the water. I managed to convince him to give it over and dragged him straight home to Pol. It was a Welby revolver so I'm guessing it was John's. Pol is confronting him about it now."

Tommy almost let out a laugh at that. By the phrase 'Pol is confronting John' he was pretty sure that meant 'Pol is ripping his balls off'.

"Is Finn alright?"

"Yeah. I think I shocked him a bit by yelling but I was scared-"

Maggie was cut off by the Garrison doors flinging open with a loud THUMP. Turning to see what it was, she saw it was Danny. The man barrelled into the pub, yelling. His face was red and sweat leaked from his forehead. The man's fists were clenched as he demolished a wooden table. The glasses flew across the room and smashed. He was having another of his episodes.

Maggie, Tommy and Freddie did not hesitate to run over to the man. Danny continued to batter and flail about, nonsensically howling. She could occasionally make out the words 'Germans' and 'enemy'. This wasn't the first time this had happened.

While the two men tried to restrain him, Maggie called out to him in a soft but firm voice, "Danny? Danny, listen. You're ok!"

After a moment of struggling, Tommy and Freddie had caught Danny by the arms and lowered him to his knees on the ground. The man still screamed and seethed but he was no longer thrashing his limbs.

Maggie moved closer and tried to catch his eyes, "Danny. You're safe. You're home."

They listened as his breathing began to slow and his eyes became less frenzied. The men did not loosen their grip on his upper arms. Over his shaky breaths, Maggie continued, "Danny, you're ok. You're alright. Can you hear me, Danny?"

After a couple more quaking breaths, he turned to face her and nodded, "y-yes."

"Ok, Danny, listen to me," she moved closer and heedfully placed a hand on his shoulder, "you are safe."

Danny continued to slowly nod his head as he stared at her. He was gradually becoming aware of his true surroundings. Maggie gently placed a palm to the side of his face and resumed in an affirmed tone, "You are home, Danny. Home. In Birmingham."

And suddenly, Danny was back. His eyes were no longer glazed. His limbs ceased shaking. His face returned to its regular pallor. Maggie let out a relieved breath and slowly removed her hand from his face. Looking to Tommy where he knelt beside the man, she saw him nod at her in gratitude. She nodded back and motioned for him and Freddie to let go of Danny's arms.

"Christ…" Danny cursed as the men backed away, "I did it again, didn't I?"

"It's alright, Danny," Maggie assured as she helped him to his feet.

Danny's exhausted eyes turned to Tommy who had moved back to the bar, "Oh God. Mr Shelby. I'm sorry."

Tommy took a swig of beer before turning back to the helpless man, "Go home to your wife, Danny. Try and get all that smoke and mud out of your head."

Danny bowed his head, "Yeah, Mr Shelby. I'm sorry, Mr Shelby."

With an ashamed pout, the larger man turned to face Maggie, "Thank you, Miss Anderson."

"No problem, Danny. Get some rest," she gave him a small, sad smile. Her heart clenched as she watched him stumble out the Garrison's doors.

"Mr Shelby, you have to do something about him," she heard Harry, the barman, say.

"Damn right, Harry. You pay the Peaky Blinders a lot of money for protection," Freddie taunted.

Maggie moved closer to the bar and saw Tommy's teeth clench. Freddie seemed to notice this small victory too and pressed on, "You're the law around here now, Tom, aren't you? Why don't you put a bullet in Danny Whizz-Bang's head? Like they do with mad horses."

Tommy turned sharply to glare at the man. Freddie responded to his threatening gaze by raising his arms in a mock surrender. This was getting out of hand.

"Freddie, please..." Maggie pleaded.

He ignored her, "Maybe you'll have to put a bullet in my head someday too."

Tommy simply grabbed his cap, angled it on his head and walked to the door. As he headed away, he picked up a toppled chair before turning back to the bar, "Bring the bill to the Peaky Blinders. We'll take care of it."

Before leaving, he shifted his gaze to Maggie and raised his brows expectantly. She rolled her eyes and walked over to him, leaving the pub and Freddie behind.

"What was all that about?" She questioned. Tommy looked at her out the corner of his eye and raised a questioning brow. She continued, "You and Freddie."

He remained quiet for a moment before reaching into his pocket for his cigarettes, "You working later?"

Maggie let out a sigh as he placed one between his lips, avoiding the question. Bloody typical. Over the years Maggie had learned that if she needed to know she would know. If it was important, he would tell her eventually, so she decided not to push. Crossing her arms and slumping her shoulders, she replied, "My shift starts at seven, but I am watching the terrors from two."

"Alright, Arthur has called a meeting. Catch you later," Tommy said after taking a drag from his cigarette.

Maggie nodded and crossed the street, leaving Tommy to watch after her.

Hearing the clinic doors slam open, Doctor McLaughlin glanced at his pocket-watch and shook his head, "Nurse Anderson, you are late…again."

Turning to the young woman, whose cheeks were flushed and wisps of hair had fallen from her loose bun, he scowled, "This seems to be a regular occurrence for you."

Maggie was still panting heavily as she turned to him, fumbling to tie her pinafore at the back. Looking to the clock on the wall, she read 7:13pm. Shit.

"I am so sorry, Doctor. I was making supper for the kids when Katie took it upon herself to wash her brother in the bathtub, almost drowning him in the process and flooding the front room. It won't happen again-"

"You said that last time. And the time before that. Don't forget the occasions you have missed entire shifts. Those bloody Shelbys are no good for you," Maggie shrunk beneath his scowl," If it is to happen again, you are dismissed. Understood?"

Maggie could only nod, her throat dry.

"A gentleman in bed three has tapeworm. After that, I want you to take up cleaning duty this evening. Now, get to it."

Maggie turned away, cringing, and reluctantly entered the medical bay.

When Maggie woke the next morning, she realised she had not yet changed out of her clinic uniform. She must have crashed out. This was unsurprising considering Doctor McLaughlin had her complete the more gruelling tasks as punishment for her lateness. Changing bloodied bed sheets, washing out sick bowls, cleaning the toilets – it was exhaustingly disgusting. Groaning, she pushed herself from the bed and to her wardrobe to change. Slipping into a clean skirt, she noticed a pile of letters at her door.

Walking over to collect them, she immediately recognised the familiar handwriting of her old friend, Ollie, who lived in London, They wrote to each-other every other week and had done so since she moved away after her father's death. Correspondence faltered during the war, with both of them at the Front, but recently they had picked up the habit again. Maggie was grateful to occasionally distract herself with goings-on away from Birmingham and talk about something other than horses or business.

Pushing the envelope to the back of the pile, Maggie cursed as she read the large, capitalised letters; OVERDUE TAX.

Lately, she had been missing a couple of shifts, resulting in limited pay. She didn't mean to be so tardy, it was genuine mistakes. Often she would be helping the boys with one thing or another and just lose track of time. This was possibly the third or even fourth overdue tax bill she had received in the past year. Before the War, her and Charles would share the bills, both working to pay. But he wasn't here anymore. Now, she was on her own. Maggie wouldn't dare worry the Shelbys over this. They went through enough trouble to get her and Charles this apartment in the first place. No, this was her business and her issue to resolve. Besides, she was sure the Shelbys had enough going on without her as an extra burden.

Just as she went to open the letter, a frantic knocking pounded at her door, shaking her from her worry. Placing the letters on the table, Maggie opened her door to reveal a rather distressed young boy.

"Finn?"

He reached out and gripped onto her wrist, attempting to tug her from her doorway, "Arthur! It's Arthur!"

"Arthur?" Resisting his pull and slipping her wrist from his hold, Maggie stopped the boy and frowned, "Finn, what's going on?"

The boy took her hand again, this time pulling with more force, "He's hurt real bad. We need you, Maggie. Come on."

Shutting the door behind her, Maggie followed after the boy as he lead her to Watery Lane.

Once dragged through the door and into the kitchen by Finn, Maggie found the family gathered around the dining table. John was leaning against the doorframe, watching as Ada and Polly bustled about the kitchen, boiling water and rinsing cloths. Looking at Arthur who was sat at one of the chairs, Maggie found his face to be beaten and bloodied.

"Christ," Maggie exclaimed as she dropped Finn's hand, moved around the chair and knelt in front of the eldest Shelby to inspect his wounds. At her remark, the others acknowledged her arrival.

"Oh, Maggie, thank God," Polly let out a breath.

Maggie carefully placed her fingertips against Arthur's raw cheek, turning his face to each side. Then, cautiously, she prodded around each cut to examine the severity and determine which needed treatment first. Arthur let out a short hiss as she moved her fingers to the one above his eyebrow. Maggie frowned, concerned. "What the hell happened?!"

She continued to look at the wounds as John replied, "Coppers."

"Coppers?" Maggie turned to him with an incredulous expression, to which John simply shrugged.

Ada squeezed a cloth before holding it out to her brother, "John, wipe the blood out of his eye."

"Since when did you give orders?" John scoffed.

"I'm a trained nurse."

John let out a loud, mocking laugh as Arthur turned to her slowly, "Don't make me laugh, it hurts my face."

"I bloody am," Ada insisted with a huff.

Maggie moved away from Arthur and placed another cloth in the bowl of hot water to sosk as John continued to mock his sister, "You went to one first aid class in the church hall and got thrown out for giggling."

"Not before learning how to stop somebody from choking."

"I'm not choking," Arthur retorted.

"You will be when I wrap this cloth around your neck," Ada threatened.

"Let's just leave it to the actual nurse, shall we?" Polly uttered.

Maggie returned to her place in front of Arthur with the bowl, sitting on her heels as she rinsed the cloth. Taking his hand in hers, she wiped the cloth on his bloodied knuckles, "I can clean up your hands with this, but the cuts on your face are deeper. They will need something stronger to prevent infection."

Just then, Tommy entered the room. Everyone fell silent as the mood immediately darkened. Maggie almost cowered from the glare Arthur sent his way. She had no idea what was going on, but whatever it was, it couldn't be good news.

"Here," Tommy held out a bottle of rum to her.

"Thank you," she responded, taking it from him. Dabbing some of the spirit onto the cloth, Maggie raised it to the side of the eldest's face, "Now, Arthur, this is going to sting but I need you to-"

"FUCK!" Arthur shrieked as he flinched away from the cloth.

"Oh, come on now, soldier," Maggie encouraged him to stay still as she worked. Her other hand still held his, stroking the back of it with her thumb to soothe him.

Between hisses and howls, Arthur growled at Tommy, "He said Mr Churchill sent him to Birmingham. National interest, he said. He said there had been a robbery."

Maggie watched Tommy stiffen from the corner of her eye. She also caught onto the way Polly seemed to burn holes into the side of his head as she glared. Wondering who 'he' was, Maggie wiped some more blood from Arthur's cheek. She assumed this had something to do with the family meeting they had earlier that day. She wasn't offended that she was hardly ever invited – she wasn't family. She only hoped they were safe, however Arthur's current state suggested otherwise. Anyway, no matter what was happening, Arthur's health was her priority in this moment.

Arthur continued, "He said he wants us to help him. Knew all about our war records. Said we're patriots like him. He wants us to be his eyes and ears."

Maggie replenished the cloth with the alcohol as she listened. Just as she went to place the cloth to his cheek again, Arthur caught his hand in hers to stop her, glaring at his brother, "I told him we'd have a family meeting and vote."

Tommy said nothing. This only angered Arthur further as he sneered.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" Arthur then turned to the others in the room, letting go of Maggie's hand, "What the fuck is wrong with him lately, Pol?"

"If I knew, I would buy the cure from Compton's Chemists," Polly responded, still scowling at Tommy.

Suddenly grabbing his coat, Tommy headed for the door. Polly called out for him but he had already disappeared, leaving the family and Maggie to stare after him in silence. Arthur made to move but Maggie placed a hand on his shoulder and gripped his other hand a little more tightly to keep him in place, "Come on. We need to get you cleaned up."

"Is he going to be alright?" Finn spoke up, childish worry evident in his tone.

"Of course I am," Arthur said with a small smile, "I've got the best nurse in the North fixing me up."

Maggie grinned, bashfully, as she continued to work.

"Do you need anything, Maggie?" Polly asked.

"Perhaps a couple more cloths? These are almost ruined."

"Of course. Come on, Finn, Ada," Polly ushered the girl from the room.

Looking to the cut on Arthur's forehead, Maggie tutted, "This one may need stitches. John, would you mind finding me a needle and some thread?"

John nodded before also leaving the room. Now it was just Maggie and Arthur.

After a moment of working in silence, besides a few hisses from the man, Maggie spoke up, "Arthur, what's going on?"

Arthur sighed and looked down, away from her. He was clearly distressed.

"Tommy," was all he said, as if that was a reason itself.

"What's he done now?"

Arthur let out a short, humourless laugh, "Who bloody knows. All I know is that some Irish Chief Inspector fucker has been handing out these all over."

He reached out to the side cabinet, groaning with the effort. Maggie noticed his struggle and leaned over for him, picking up a leaflet. Studying it, Maggie read aloud the text, "'If you're over five feet and can fight, come to Birmingham'. What's that all about?"

Turning back to Arthur who was shaking his head, "Tommy says they are here to 'clean up the city'. Being recruited as Specials. Apparently that Inspector has spent the last four years clearing the IRA out of Belfast."

"He didn't fight?"

"No, fucking coward," Arthur spat, hissing as he moved his head to fast, causing Maggie to place another fresh cloth to his forehead, "Tommy says it's because of what the papers are saying about the strikes. Revolution. Reckons it's Communists he's after."

"So what business does he have with you, and with the rest of you?"

"My question exactly. All Tommy said was that we need to be more careful. Supposes there are Irishmen in Green Lane who left Belfast to get away from him. They say Catholic men who crossed him used to disappear in the night."

Maggie considered his words, "He was arguing with Freddy earlier in the Garrison. I suspected soemthing was going on. But then again, when aren't they arguing."

"Bloody bastards, the pair of them."

"You think Tommy is keeping something from you?"

"When isn't Tom keeping something from us?" Arthur proposed. Maggie could only nod. He had a point.

Arthur continued, "Pol questioned him about it during the meeting. He claimed it 'wasn't women's business'."

She let out a cold snort at that, "Bloody cheek. This whole enterprise was 'women's business' during the war. Hell, I was out there with you all. And in a few years I can vote too. So what's the difference nowadays?"

Arthur smiled fondly at her, "You sound just like Pol."

"Thank you," Maggie smiled back. She continued to wipe at the cut on his forehead, "Almost done."

"Thanks, Mags," Arthur said, admiringly.

"You're welcome, Artie," she mocked.

Just as John returned with the thread and needle, Maggie had come to a decision; she needed to confront Tommy about what was happening. If this Inspector's presence in Birmingham was threatening the safety of the her friends, something needed to be done. But first, they deserved the truth.

Tommy heard the church doors creak, announcing someone's arrival. He closed his eyes and breathed in, deeply, preparing for another confrontation. He had just been faced by Pol and knew another would not be far behind.

"Tommy," it was Maggie.

He did not turn to her, rather waited for her to join him on the bench. He heard her sigh.

"My shift starts in twenty-five minutes, so this needs to be quick. No bullshit," she said, stern, "What's going on, Tommy?"

He could feel her watching him, waiting for a response.

"What do you mea-"

"I said no bullshit."

It was Tommy's turn to sigh. Turning to look at her for the first time since she entered the church, he was met with eyes holding an expression of concern and frustration.

"I know you. You're with-holding something," Maggie explained. It was obvious to her. Not only was he acting more closed off than usual, but he was visibly stressed. His jaw was clenched tight and his usually vibrant eyes were dull. Whenever he was stressed, ever since they were young, she could find him at either the stables or the church. Tommy was not a religious man, especially since the War. But the church was peaceful, a place to cleanse your mind and organise your thoughts. Finding him here was a tell-tale sign he was conflicted and distracted. Maggie continued to press him for an explantion, "I thought you trusted me."

Tommy knew he could trust her. He always had and always would. She was one of the few he actually could trust. He shook his head slightly and replied before he could stop himself, "It's not about trust, it's about safety."

Maggie almost guffawed. That was the reason she was confronting him. Of course she was concerned for the safety of the Shelbys since the attack on Arthur, but particularly Maggie found herself worried for Tommy's safety - from himself. She knew he could be particularly reckless when stressed. It was a hazard of his privacy. Often, she felt he just needed to unload his worries and share the burdens he carried. Whatever was happening, she wanted to make sure she was there for him, to stop Tommy from hurting himself and those they cared for. Maggie gently gripped his arm, "Safety from what? Who? That new Inspector?"

She noticed the way he concealed a shudder and how his fist tightened slightly. Yet, Tommy fell silent again. Disappointed, Maggie continued, "Tommy, listen. If you don't want to tell me what is going on, then don't. If I don't need to know, then I don't need to know. But don't you dare lie to me and tell me you're fine. I thought you respected me more than that."

She let go of his arm and turned back to face the alter in front of them. The pair fell into uncomfortable silence.

Tommy leant forward and rested his arms against the next bench. She was right, he couldn't lie to her. He did respect her more than that. Giving in, he allowed his facade to crumble, as it usually did around Maggie. He rubbed his eyes and dragged his palms across his face before speaking up so quietely, she almost missed it, "A robbery. The Inspector is here because of a robbery."

"A robbery? The one they questioned Arthur about?"

Tommy nodded, "Twenty-five Lewis machine-guns with ten-thousand rounds of ammunition, fifty semi-automatic rifles and two hundred pistols. All bound for Libya."

"Right, but what has that got to do with-"

The realisation hit her. He was the culprit. He was the one the coppers were looking for.

"Oh, Tommy," Maggie groaned, leaning her head back to look at the church ceiling, despairingly.

She closed her eyes as he continued to explain, "It was meant to be routine. I had a buyer in London for some motorcycles. I asked my men to steal me four bikes with petrol engines, but I guess they were drunk. They picked up the wrong fucking crate."

"Christ, Thomas," Maggie cursed, almost breathlessly.

Tommy almost flinched as she used his full name, something she only did when she was pissed at him. Still, it was a welcomed change from Polly's reaction a few hours earlier. He could still feel his new bruises throbbing.

"Who else knows?" she asked.

"Charlie, Curly, Pol," he turned to look at her, "and now you."

"Where are the guns now?" Maggie lowered her voice, "I assume you didn't have enough common sense to throw them in the cut."

He shook his head, "We put them in the stables out of the rain. They haven't been greased yet."

Maggie sat in silence for another moment, trying to process the information he had broken to her. She knew Tommy could act like a fool, but this was ridiculous. He was not simple, in fact, he was incredibly smart. But she felt sometimes he would allow his incredible mind to take over his gut, resulting in disastrous consequences. Maggie could only hope the consequences would not befall onto the family, and that Tommy would be clever enough to work his way out of this, before he had to face the consequences himself.

Leaning forward on the bench to match his position, Maggie looked Tommy in the eyes, "So, what now?"

"We wait, try to discover his plan. Then we work out our next move."

Maggie rolled her eyes, exasperated. Of course he wouldn't mention disposing of the guns, "You know, Tommy, there are certain moments where I consider you a man with brilliant ideas and a bright future. This is not one of those moments."

Tommy raised a brow at her before his face broke out into a smile, hers doing so soon after. It broke the tension immediately, He reached an arm around her shoulders and pulled her a little closer along the bench, grateful for her presence. Contentedly, Maggie rested her head against his shoulder, melting into his hold. And for a moment, they both forgot the troubled times that lay ahead of them.

"I am always here for you, you know that?" she proposed in almost a whisper, "No matter what happens, I am right here, as always...Through the best of times and the worst of times."

Tommy looked down at her, "Dickens?"

"Dickens," Maggie beamed up at him.

They shared a laugh before a comfortable, tender quiet invaded the space around them. The small, fond smile never left Tommy's face as he sat holding her, assured that she would be there for him. Through the best of times, and the worst of times.

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave me some feedback, either positive or constructive. It means the world to me and also encourages me to keep this going!