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Summary : You meet Billy Kitchen for the first time.
Warnings : cussing, alfie's use of language, brief mentions of sexual themes, sexual tension
Additional Information :
> follows events from season 2 of Peaky Blinders (minor spoilers)
> written in second person perspective
> 379 words | 3 minutes
Author's Note :
I haven't really seen any works done for him and personally, I fancy the man. Please excuse my weak attempt to literate alfie's cockney accent. Let me know if I should do more works on mista kitchen!
"Good lad. Fill it up, and fuck off," Alfie huffs as he gestures to the occupational form you were handing out to the men. As they leave, Alfie slouches into his chair sighs deeply.
"Wher' on this fuckin' earth, right? does Thomas fuckin' Shelby get a whole bunch o' blokes to do his biddin' for him?" He complains with furrowed eyebrows.
You look at him amused. Standing right next to him, you cross your arms and lift a brow. "Jealous are we, Alfie?" You tease him.
His head snaps to your direction and blinks furiously, dumbfounded. "What? Lil' 'ol me? jealous of that twink?" His childish retaliation made you burst out in laughter.
Just then, a tall, bulky man - presumably another 'baker' saunters in. Your banter with Alfie cuts short and abrupt as you directed your attention to the stranger.
"Name," Alfie demands.
"Billy Kitchen," He states with confidence. Dominance radiating off him. His stern eyes were unwavering, almost challenging as his eyes looks down at Alfie.
From your point of view, you neck strains a little to meet his gaze. He auburn hair amess hidden under his cap, rough stuble neatly trimmed. His stout built seen clear as day even under his thick coat. Your mouth waters at the thought of those big strong arms holding you down as he thrus-
"Go on then, give the basta'd his papers and apron" Alfie calls to you, proding his elbow to your hip gently.
What? Oh.
You tense up and clear your throat, embarrassed to the bone. Your clammy palms grabbed the papers and apron in a scurry.
His eyes meet yours for the first time, his face still stoic. His gaze was intense. Your arms reach out towards him, handing him the items at hand. He leans closer from the other side of the desk, he takes them from you slowly.
"Thank you, Ms" He says gruffly, nodding his head.
He walks away with his eyes still trained on you. Your lungs burn.
Gasping
You were practically gasping for air from the breath you didn't know you were holding. In the fits of coughing, you hear Alfie's voice again.
"Right, and what in the hell was that?" His eyes wide like saucers, eyebrows halfway up his hairline.
Summary: Kate Rosseau is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?
Part 10: Kate receives a shocking letter, the Garrison is reopened.
“Hello, Lizzie.” Kate tugged off her gloves and hat as she walked into the office.
The pretty brunette looked up from the typewriter. “You’ve been gone for a few days.” She noted.
“Yes, well, Tommy showed up to my flat in the middle of the night to take me on a four-day cruise.” She snorted. “Unfortunately, it was in a canal and the destination was London.”
Lizzie smiled and handed her a few envelopes. “Well, these came for you while you were gone.”
While working at the office together, the two women had struck up a bit of a friendship. Both being working women, former and present, they had a deeper understanding of each other. But Kate didn’t trust her. She’d learned from her time with Grace. A nice woman who was willing to listen to her talk wasn’t someone to automatically be trusted. It was something Kate realized she might’ve learned a bit too late. After all, she’d learned not to trust men a long time ago. She should’ve realized women could be just as dangerous. She wasn’t the only one with secrets.
“Thank you.” Kate took the small pile of mail and began opening and sorting through them by Lizzie’s desk. “How’s your class going?”
“Good.” The other woman perked up. She loved talking about the typing class she was taking and Kate loved seeing the pride in her eyes. Someone who had, for so long, known nothing but working the streets of Birmingham. Now she was educating herself, looking toward a brighter future. “I’m learning shorthand.”
“Is that difficult? I don’t know much about it but I…” Kate’s voice trailed off as she skimmed through one of the letters.
Lizzie’s brow creased. “Everything alright?” She asked when the conversation abruptly stopped.
“Yes, I’m sorry, I just need to-well I-” She looked around the room as if it were spinning. “I’m going to read this in Tommy’s office.” She excused herself quickly and shut the door behind her for some privacy. Setting the other letters aside, she read through what had stopped her in her tracks. It was written in French and the handwriting was hurried but not careless.
Dear Kate,
I hope this finds you. I am in fear of your life. A man came to the cabaret last night with your picture. He wanted to know who smuggled you out of France and into Britain.
No one said much to him but he threatened our lives. All of his men had guns. Gabrielle felt she had no choice. She told him about the Peaky Blinders.
I think he is coming after you and I do not think he has good intentions.
It was dated and signed by a woman who danced with Kate at the Moulin Rouge.
She felt beyond sick to her stomach trying to process what was happening. It was one thing to get a vague letter from Santo. But this letter changed everything.
Kate jumped when the doors to the office opened suddenly.
Tommy stood in the entryway with a frown. “What are you doing in here?”
“I-I was reading a letter.” She held it out to him. “Tommy, Santo is in France, he was asking about me and about you.”
He took the letter but realized quickly it was no use to him. “I don’t speak French.” He replied.
“Well, I’m telling you.” She followed him to his desk. “I’m telling you that he’s tracking me down.”
“He already knew where you lived.” He pointed out. “Why is this different?”
His lack of concern was aggravating to Kate. “Because he’s tracing my trail. He threatened people, he’s trying to make anyone who helped me pay!” She snapped. “And eventually he’s going to find his way here and do the same to you.”
Despite having the shit kicked out him only days before, Tommy didn’t appear too perturbed. “Let him come.”
“Let him come.” She threw her hands up in disbelief. “Are you fucking serious? Tommy, you don’t understand-”
“I need to write a letter.” Tommy gestured to the door with a dismissive hand.
Kate wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you though.” She snarled and left with a huff.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lizzie didn’t want to go to the reopening of the Garrison alone and she made it very clear to Kate. She was so relentless, in fact, that she showed up to Kate’s flat to convince her to go.
“It’ll be fun, we’ll have fun!” Lizzie promised as she pushed her way into the flat, shooing Kate upstairs to get ready.
“I’m sorry, but that pub is an open target and I…” Kate didn’t want to get too far into the details, the trust still wasn’t there with her newfound work friend.
“Tommy’s dealt with it all,” Lizzie assured her. “Come on, go and change, I don’t want to miss anything!” She exclaimed. “And I’m not leaving without you.”
Kate sighed and chuckled. “Alright, just for a couple of drinks.” She prefaced before heading into her room to don a more appropriate dress.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She stuck to her guns and nursed the same gin for quite some time before accepting a second one. By then the celebration was in full swing and had become quite rowdy. Even though the Garrison had been renovated into a gilded palace, it still held the same wild Brummies. A new coat of paint, few embellishments, and sparkling lights couldn’t change the true nature of something. Kate knew that all too well.
Kate hadn’t noticed Tommy come in until she saw him speaking with Arthur behind the bar. Their eyes met and he finished speaking into Arthur’s ear. He nodded to her and pointed to one of the back rooms.
“I’ll be back,” Kate told Lizzie, picking up her drink to bring with her. She shimmied through the thick crowd to where Tommy was headed.
He let her inside and closed the door behind her.
“I didn’t think you had anything else to say to me after this morning,” Kate mumbled but let him pull out a chair for her.
Tommy didn’t respond, he just pulled out a box of matches and an envelope. “Give it here, then.”
“Give what?”
“The letter.”
“Tommy, this is serious and you should-”
He pinched the envelope between his thumb and forefinger. “This is from Grace. From America. New York.
“I didn’t know you two were still talking.” Kate looked a bit perplexed. She assumed men like Tommy, when scorned or betrayed, cut ties with the party involved. But love was love.
“This is all I have.” He responded and struck up a match.
Catching his drift, she grabbed his arm. “You’re not even going to open it?”
“No.” He allowed the small flame to touch the corner of the cream-colored envelope. The fire licking up the length, encasing the dainty handwriting addressed to Tommy and burning the unread letter.
“And you’ll never wonder?” She asked in disbelief.
“There are things you need to close the door on, Kate.” He replied. “Before you don’t have control over it.”
“That’s the key with you, Thomas. Control.”
“The letter?”
Pursing her lips, Kate produced the letter from her purse. She’d been holding onto it all day, carrying it around like a ten-pound burden. “I know what it says though.” She pointed out. “You can’t burn that out.”
Tommy still set fire to the letter, letting it smolder to ash in the candle holder beside the ashes of Grace’s letter. “That’s what alcohol is for.”
She snorted and shook her head. “Is that all you brought me in here for?” She asked.
“What do you know ‘bout horses?” He wondered and discarded the spent match, digging the charred head into the smoking remnants of paper.
“I know they have four legs and can make a lot of money. Aside from that, I think I know very little compared to you, gypsy boy.” She replied.
“Then you’ll stay in London for the time being.” He concluded.
“Pardon? Who said I was going to London?”
“We’re confirming the contract with Alfie Solomons. I’ll be sending me men there very soon.”
She shook her head, not pleased with the idea of trudging all the way back to London. “And? That has nothing to do with me.”
“I disagree. Mr. Solomons will need your expertise when it comes to the American market.” He withdrew a cigarette and lit another match.
“That’s what telephones are for,” Kate replied through clenched teeth.
“Santo knows you’re in Birmingham. Doesn’t know anything about London, does he?”
She scoffed. “So now you’re worried about that?” She demanded. “Ridiculous, Tommy, absolutely ridiculous. I don’t know what will put the fear of God in you, I really don’t.” Kate slammed back her gin and stood up. But she decided she wasn’t done. She jabbed a finger at him. “You need to realize that there are men out there who are stronger and hold more pull than you.”
Tommy just shrugged with a nonchalant expression on his face. “Haven’t met one yet.”
Kate just made a noise of disbelief and left the room muttering something about men’s egos.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Ya know, when Thomas came in with you, I assumed you were just a whore that he’d brought for the fun of it. Thought he might get off on something like that.”
Kate raised an eyebrow in amusement at the Jewish man across the desk from her. She had arrived in London that morning with Tommy and the drove of men who were forming the brigade. Unlike last time, Alfie was there to meet them, kindly escorting Kate arm in arm to the office. Almost like they were a gentleman and lady, not a known gangster and former prostitute.
She’d given Tommy a smug look over her shoulder because of Alfie’s treatment. He simply looked amused with a head shake.
While Tommy was wrangling his men together, Kate sat down with Alfie in his office.
“He doesn’t have much of a heart left.” She replied with a tight smile. “But I appreciate it.”
“Nah, weren’t sayin’ you look like a whore. Not meant to be an insult.” Alfie waved the excuse with a hand.
“Well,” Kate tilted her head to the side. “I’ve worn many hats, Mr. Solomons. But I never preferred the term, whore. I always liked something a bit more refined.”
He laughed good-naturedly. “You’ll make good company in business, Miss Rosseau. Tommy is a pain in the arse, ain’t he? So, fucking serious, yeah, never takes a joke.”
“He has his moments. I think he cares about his people though.” She admitted.
“Feh.” Alfie rolled his eyes and handed her the contract drawn up after he’d signed it. In addition, he gave her a list of names and addresses. “Well, I’ve got to go meet the rabble. Like you to look over me current list of docks and people willing to smuggle stuff in. Add anything you’d like, ifya know any that are utter shit, just cross ‘em out. Don’t want to be wasting me time and money.”
“I can do that.” Kate nodded.
“Cyril’ll keep ya company. Be back in a mo’.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After reviewing Alfie’s list of contacts and giving Cyril a good belly rub, Kate waited. And waited. And waited.
Bored and restless, she stepped out of the office and poked around a bit, looking for Alfie or Tommy. Some of Alfie’s men gave her curious looks but didn’t say anything. Probably on orders rather than their own will.
Kate made her way downstairs to the cellar where she heard some talking. She recognized Tommy’s voice and followed it to a larger room where men were lined up like a battalion.
“Haven’t seen any bread.” She heard the quip as she stepped into the room quietly.
None of the men seemed to notice her, they were all focused on Alfie as he stalked up to the older man who had made the joke. There was a heavy pause before the broad-shouldered gangster raised his cane with a strikingly fast motion and brought it down with untamable fury. Hitting the man right beside the jokester.
The crack was unmistakable and the victim was knocked out cold by the sheer force Alfie inflicted on him.
“He’ll wake up, granted he won’t have any teeth left but he will be a wiser for it,” Alfie spoke with a frightening amount of restraint.
Kate knew that the scariest men were those who could control their anger. Those who lost control were weaker. They were violent and strong, yes, but a man without control was nothing. That’s why Tommy and Alfie were terrifying.
They’d controlled and fostered their anger. They had made acquaintances with their rage. Death was their friend.
“And the last thing he will remember is your funny little joke, won’t he?” Another long pause drew out. “Right!” Alfie shouted.
Kate did her best not to flinch, even though the sudden loud yell came seemingly out of nowhere. She wanted to show the men there that while they were probably terrified of Alfie, she sure as hell wasn’t. Mostly because she’d gotten on his good side early on. That was the trick, after all. Granted, she knew it was easier for women to do so, but it was still crucial.
“There are fucking rules here for a fucking reason. ‘N quite simply they have to be obeyed. Rule number one, the distinction between bread and rum is not discussed.” Alfie paced before the front line of men, disregarding the unconscious one still on the floor. “Number two, anything, right, that your superior officers says to you or any of your other fucking superior officers say to you, is not discussed!” His voice became a bit hoarse from shouting so loudly but it was effective. He turned and finally noticed Kate in the doorway. “Ah, yes, good reminder.” The volume of his voice lowered a bit as he pointed at her. “This young woman will be in and out of the bakery as she pleases. As far as I see it, she’s about ten ranks above you fucking pathetic numbskulls, yeah? So that means, yeah, she comes before you and you will treat her with respect. And I don’t care if she’s got nothing on, you will not talk to her, about her, you will not fucking look at her. If I hear you lot speaking a fucking word ‘bout her, I’ll rip your tongue out and feed it to me dog!”
The threat was enough to last because suddenly none of the men were looking anywhere near where Kate was standing.
“That goes for Jewish women as well. For the rest of your fucking miserable lives, you don’t go anywhere near Jewish women. They are off the menu for you fuckers.” He nodded and cleared his throat. “I think that’s fair.”
Kate held her chin a little higher. After being under the heel of men during her stint in France, it felt good to be back in control. Back to the woman that wasn’t called derogatory names or groped or grabbed. The woman who’s worth wasn’t measured was by her beauty. Back to the woman she was in the States. Back to being a dangerous woman. Roguish, even.
Permanent Tag: (God I’m spamming you guys so much, I really apologize) @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Rewatching Peaky Blinders again, on season 2. Still can't believe it's Paul Bullion as Billy Kitchen, he looks nothing like he does now/as Lambert. He also really got the distinction between Brummie and Black Country accents which I appreciate
