#gbtc

“She hadn’t been dealing with it any other way, and she kept telling me to stop talking about the shooting. And earlier she tried to tell me, she said she had something to finish.” Michael himself could hardly believe what he was saying. “How does she know how to shoot like that?” Arthur asked. “I don’t bloody know!” Michael exclaimed. “Well c’mon mate, we have to get you to her!” Tommy said, rushing everyone into the car. They checked Michael’s place, Maxie’s, Arrow House, and even her Aunt’s grave but couldn’t find her anywhere. Finally Michael took to just wandering the streets of Small Heath, praying she would turn up. He then heard church bells and realized where she was. Hesitantly, Michael opened the cathedral door. He blinked to adjust to the substantially darker interior. In the back row he saw the back of a familiar head and sighed in relief. He walked up and sat down next to her. She was crying. This was the first time Michael had ever seen her properly cry. “I talked to a priest. I told him everything. It doesn’t make it okay though.” She said between sobs. “Hey, hey come here! He took all of your family, everything you knew, and left you with the likes of me.” Michael brought her heaving frame to his chest. “The others didn’t. Those three at the pub? They didn’t even know what hit them. Or the two with Falco today. I’m a murderer and I’m so so sorry.” She cried. “You know I am the absolute very last person who can judge you Maxie.” Michael stroked her hair. “Are you sure?” She sniffed and looked up at him. “I’m positive. I keep getting you all wrong. I keep thinking that you need me to protect you, or to avenge you, but you prove me wrong every time. You don’t need me.” Michael soothed. “No, you’re wrong. I do need you. I went insane Michael. I went crazy and didn’t even tell you. I kept it from you, and I shouldn’t have. I need you to help me from going mental.” She pleaded with him. “I tell you what, you promise to marry me and I’ll help you from going mental, as long as you help me from going mental.” Michael brushed the tears from her cheeks. Maxie laughed despite her still falling tears. “You’ve got yourself a deal Michael Gray! We might need a different church though, I think I scared this priest away. Catholics no long condone murder, even the murder of gangsters.” She giggled. “That’s okay, we’ll find a protestant church. They’ll take anybody.” Michael leaned down and gently kissed her. The girl behind the counter wasn’t so different from Michael after all. Maxie made a much better gangster than himself, or even Tommy for that matter. She out smarted and out maneuvered all of them, and Maxie had done it without missing a single shot. She may have lost all of her blood relatives, but Maxie was a Shelby now. “One last thing.” Michael said. “Yes?” Maxie looked at him with concern. “Will you give me a shooting lesson?” Michael asked, causing more laughter from Maxie. “We’re going to be unstoppable together, aren’t we?” She cooed. “You’re damn right we will.” Michael agreed.

“I’m so sorry, but there is some business with a partner whose rum we sell that Tommy wanted me to meet with and he told me that this is the only time he could meet with me.” Michael apologized. “11:30 on a Thursday night is the only time he could meet?” (Y/N) asked. “Yep, that’s Alfie Solomons for you.” Michael sighed. “Solomons, thats the one whose man you killed.” (Y/N) realized. “Yeah, that might have something to do with the inconvenient timing.” Michael grumbled. “You can wait in the car if you like.” He told her. “And if I don’t like?” She returned. He was afraid she’d say that. “This isn’t the sort of business you need to involve yourself in.” Michael tried to explain. “Good thing I don’t need to, but want to!” As soon as the car stopped (Y/N) popped out before Michael could stop her. The two walked into the warehouse and past barrels and barrels of illegal rum to where Alfie’s office was. “Mr. Solomons.” Michael extended his hand in greeting to the tall bearded man behind the dark oak desk. “Michael lad! Haven’t seen you since that nasty business with my boy you shot in the back!” The words sounded warm and welcoming but (Y/N) recognized the bitter after tone quite clearly, even if all of his words seemed to get a bit muffled and lost in his facial hair. “Oh and Hello, who is this? You brought Cinderella from the bloody ball did you?” Alfie chuckled, taking (Y/N)’s satin gloved hand and kissing the top of it. “What in the world is a beautiful and respectful lady such as yourself doing  with the likes of this Peaky bugger?” He asked. “What am I doing with him? I’m having my evening with him which was inconvenienced, that’s what I’m doing. I suggest you boys get on with your business.” (Y/N) said while decidedly taking a seat that was not offered to her. “Well then, we best do as the lady says.” Alfie mumbled. Michael sat and the two began talking logistics and about people (Y/N) didn’t know, so she kept quiet, but engaged. She listened to every word and the extra meanings behind all those words. “What do you mean its gonna be another fuckin’ month?” Alfie yelled at Michael. “Falco is proving persistent. We’ve made great headway in Liverpool, but he’s presented us with a few road blocks.”Michael tried to calmly explain. “Headway? Did he say headway?” Alfie now turned to (Y/N) where she lounged in her chair, never once removing her eyes from the situation. “He did say headway.” She calmly responded. “That’s what I thought. Would you like to know what I do to liars darlin’?” Alfie once again addressed her. “Please, Mr. Solomons, enlighten me.” She replied with out a hint of the fear Alfie was so used to inflicting. “I FUCKING SHOOT THEM, THAT’S WHAT I DO!” He yelled while pulling a gun from his desk drawer and pointing it at Michael. “I AIN’T NO LIAR!” Michael yelled back, not helping one bit. With an exhausted sigh (Y/N) stood up and placed herself between the gun and Michael. “What the fuck are you doing?!” He hissed at her, but she ignored him. “Do you like my coat, Mr. Solomons?” She simply asked. “What?” The confused man replied, gun still in place. “How about my gown? Do you like it?” She motioned to the sheer fabric. “I do yeah.” He truthfully mumbled. “Well then you wouldn’t want to ruin it, or my nice coat, would you?” (Y/N) spoke as if she were talking to a small child. “No of course not.” Alfie was still confused. “Good.” She smirked, but then her voice deepened and she spoke very succinctly, “Because that’s what would happen if you shot Michael, because the bullet would have to pass through this dress, me, and my coat first.” She stared him down without blinking. To be quite honest, she was terrifying, even amongst the company of gangsters. Alfie paused for a moment that was so tense Michael was about to shove (Y/N) out of the way and just take the bullet. Then suddenly Alfie burst into laughter. “You’ve got some balls for such a pretty lady!” Alfie guffawed. “They’re bigger than the pairs you two have got if you can’t sit down and behave like the respectable fucking businessmen you are.” (Y/N) sat back down. “God bless you son! That woman of yours is fire!” Alfie was still laughing. “Don’t I know it, but why did you call me a liar?” Michael returned to business. “Oh right, yeah, cause I got a guy that tells me Falco’s got a bloke or two sneakin' round Birmingham. That don’t sound like headway to me.” Alfie too returned to business. “Well now you know what brings Michael and I to town Mr. Solomons. The Peaky Blinders are well aware of the rats on our turf and Michael brought me here to make sure I didn’t accidentally get blood on my coat while the rats are being handled. As you saw by my little soap box speech, I’m rather fond of this coat. I rarely get a chance to wear it out because Michael, Tommy, Arthur, John, and all the rest of the Peaky Blinders spend so much time in Liverpool no one is ever around to take me out. From my point of view it seems like they run that stupid city, but being the intelligent businessmen Michael and his cousins are, I’m sure they want to make sure your investment is nice and secure so you don’t have to risk anything and I think that’s worth a mere couple of more weeks. I, on the other hand, am getting to wear this coat for the first time in a long time, yet I’m stuck in your office because you think scheduling a meeting this late means you can piss farther, but I think that the Peaky Blinders taking out Falco at no cost to you but time means they can piss much much farther, so I officially declare this pissing match closed. Should you have any questions or concerns I suggest you schedule a meeting with Michael.” (Y/N) promptly stood and left the office, shadowed my Michael. Alfie was so in shock he didn’t even try and stop them from leaving. Once back in the car (Y/N) was prepared to apologize for commandeering the meeting, but instead was silenced by Michael’s lips on hers. “That was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” He growled before resuming his kiss. Yep, he definitely wanted to marry her, and he hope the way she had referred to the Peaky Blinder’s turf as ‘ours’ meant that she’d want to marry him too.

"Have you seen this?! It's un-fucking-believeable! Just one week before we were gonna fucking off him!" Michael angrily threw the copy of the Friday edition of the newspaper on the table. "SUSPECTED GANGSTER AND ARSONIST FOUND SHOT OUTSIDE OF CAFE" Maxie read out load. The front page picture was of a man with greased hair and a thin mustache with a single hole in his forehead, presumably from a bullet. He had roses cascaded all over his body and a broken vase next to his head. He must have knocked a vase and flowers over when he was shot. 'It's wonderfully poetic.'  Maxie thought. "I can't believe this!" Michael yelled. "Why are you angry? The bastard is dead this is something to celebrate!" Maxie reasoned. "Yeah, but he was mine! I wanted his death! It should have been me!" Michael shouted. "Calm down! A man like that had to have loads of enemies who all though his death belonged to them! It's done! The cunt is worm food! Try to find a little happiness in that for fuck's sake! It's my family he offed and you don't see me throwing a fucking hissy fit!!!" Maxie yelled. "You're right. You're absolutely right. I'm sorry. It's just... Every night when I go to sleep I see you lying there bleeding out." Michael whispered. "All you have to do is reach over, and you'll feel me. Safe and right beside you." Maxie hushed him. "Yeah, safe and beside me. Right where you belong." He placed a gentle kiss in her blonde curls.

A knock came at the door and Tommy entered. “I’ve just received word. Falco wants to parlay.” He announced. “Good. Stop this bloody nonsense.”  Polly said. “You three go. I’ll stay with Finn.” Michael mumbled. Polly looked at her son with worry. She could tell that something was terribly wrong but hadn’t had a chance to ask him about it yet. “Actually, the correspondence I received insisted you come along.” Tommy looked at his little cousin. Michael’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. Why would he need to be there? He assumed the attack on the flower shop was simply for convenience’s sake. It was an easy target compared to Arrow House. Now Michael wondered if Falco didn’t have some personal issue with him. “Okay.” Michael agreed, while standing up. Michael and his cousins drove to an address that had been on a letter delivered by an errand boy, Falco’s they assumed. They found themselves in an old warehouse somewhere between Birmingham and Liverpool. After staking out the area and making sure it wasn’t an ambush they entered. They found Falco sitting at a table, flanked by two men. “We were pleased to receive your message.” Tommy said while taking an empty seat on the other side of the table. “My message? You called this meeting.” Falco looked at him wearily. The two guards behind him shared uneasy glances. They had no doubt seen the scene the Peaky Blinders had left in their pub and seen the ghostly white of those roses for themselves. “No, no we didn’t call any meeting. You summoned us here.” Tommy said with an equally weary tone. “Why the fuck would I call a civil meeting with you sick bastards? Do you Peaky fuckers get off on that shit? Leaving fucking calling cards?” Falco spat. “What?” Tommy was completely lost. “The flowers.” Michael knew what Falco meant. “Bloody right the flowers! I knew you stitched fucking razors in your hats, but leaving little white roses on dead bodies like little flecks of snow? It’s sick!” Falco yelled. “White like snow.” Michael quietly repeated to himself. Suddenly the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. “The flowers weren’t us.” Tommy admitted. “Then who the fuck did that?” Falco asked. “Holy fuck.” Michael said slightly louder so that everyone else could hear him. “Michael? Is there something you’d like to share with the group?” Tommy cocked an eyebrow at him. As he did so the warehouse door flew open and two shots rang out. The bodyguards fell to the ground. Instinctively, everyone hit the deck. Everyone but Michael. The sound of heels echoed in the empty space. John was the first to look up, then Tommy, then Arthur. All three of their jaws dropped. “Freddie Falco, get the fuck up you cowering piece of shit.” Maxie ordered. The Liverpool gangster stood up and embarrassedly brushed himself off when he saw it was a woman who was before him. “Hold this for me?” Maxie reached her arm out. Confused, Falco took the object from her. His eyes widened with horror when he realized it was a white rose. Then Maxie released one last bullet.