#tommyxreader

“Loyalty to country ALWAYS. Loyalty to the government, when it deserves it.” - Mark Twain XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A pair of sharp eyes eyed Thomas Shelby with intensity as he entered the gambling lot. They had entered a dangerous joint which was covered under the façade of an honest business, a traveling ship company, the Black Star line. All the right person had to do was answer the question "What time is it in New York?" to be allowed in. The answer was always "Time for Charleston." As of late, the Shelby's realized that there was a new player in town. Someone who was taking money which could've been theirs, and large amounts of it. The Shelbys scanned the room. It was an underground and very illegal casino. The room was packed, a cloud of cigarette smoke mystified the rooms. Several tables in the room had roulettes and card games which kept its happy guest betting and drinking. "Drinks are free if yer playin'" a bartender approached Tommy, Finn, and Arthur and handed them each a glass of cold whiskey. Arthur began drinking the whiskey, it was slightly watered down, but not terrible. Tommy didn't bother with such trivialities and simply dodged past the man. Several private rooms on the sides were hidden away with thick curtains and the Shelby could only guess composed the part of the brothel. They could guess the alcohol was also brewed underneath the floor where they stood. It was a sinful palace filled with flapper whores, gambling and enough drink to accommodate all and every scoundrel's need, desire, and want. Loud music blasted playing jazz, Charleston dance music, and other American tunes. They had stumbled upon a gold mine. Some bloody bastard had decided to just claim their territory and plant themselves on devil's ground. "Oi, Who runs this place?" Arthur asked as they approached the bar at the end of the room. The bartender who was overwhelmed by glasses and pours simply nodded his head towards a tall, square man who leaned against the counter at the end of the bar. They made eye contact and approached him. The square man had his hairline split right in the middle. His eyes were black and nose appeared to be bent from former breakage injury. "You run this place?" Arthur asked as they rounded him. "What is it to you?" The other responded with an unfamiliar accent that none of the Shelby could identify. "Jasper Markwat," he stretched out his hand for the Brits to shake. He was instead greeted with a gun pointed to his chin. "Cut the fucking act," Arthur threatened. "Horseshit, you're as American as Apple pie." "-And the New York Yankees," Jasper's face stretched out into a broad grin. He didn't look older than forty years of age with a slight peppered stubble covering his face. "How can I help you, gentlemen?" He clapped his hands together. "You set up business in Blinder territory?" Arthur pressed. "Gentleman," Jasper said in a lazy drawl. "May I offer some American hospitality?" He said clapping his hand on Arthur's shoulder as he wiggled his eyebrows to a table of women sitting in the corner of the room. Arthur's eyes slightly wondered as he eyed the women. "This is our territory," Thomas said sternly as he stood his ground. Jasper, on the other hand, looked annoyed. He scoffed and rolled his eyes at the Brit. "Listen," he licked his lips. "We came here to make friends." "We came here to make enemies." Thomas spat back. The eyes that watched and listened carefully became intrigued. Eyes wide. Somebody hid a growing smile. "This is a provocation. Right in our faces." Tommy lit a cigarette. "Seeing as you are a foreigner and I'm a fair man you have until the weekend to leave for the colonies." He took a heavy drag. "We have an understanding?" "Sure, sport." Jasper swallowed his pride and nodded with a side smile. Arthur was already drooling over the women in the corner. Finn simply drank the beverage he had been handed. With that, the Blinders left.

    Another rant. You had no idea how your best friend Tommy couldn’t get tired of you talking, but he did. He would watch you pace back and forth around your office, explaining and lecturing how stupid a man was, or complaining about what a mess the city was. How was he so patient?

    That was only one of the things you liked about him. He was also charming, and, in his own way, humorous. Wasn’t it obvious you loved him?

    “And... and he’s a pig!” you suddenly shouted. “The man talked with his mouth full of food, and then he went to stare at another woman! What a pervert!”

    Currently, you were talking about a man that had brought you to a dinner-date the night before. You thought he was going to be as charming as he was the night before the date, but he was horrible.

    Tommy stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets. You paused for a moment, knowing he wanted to ask and questions--which he did. “Why would you go out with a man you barely know?”      “I... I don’t know,” you admitted sheepishly. “It’s what ever’one is doin’ now, I suppose. And to add, he seemed pretty decent.”

    Then you continued.

    “And what about how he dressed? Goodness! It seemed like he had just gotten off a mining shift! His trousers were smothered in black and brown--ugly. Just... disgusting!”

    He chuckled softly, but let you speak. Tommy knew this was your way of venting. Venting made you happy--it made everyone feel better. One thing he was thankful for,  that you would look to him when you needed help.

    “You know, Tommy, I wish I said no to that man. I could’ve been doing something else other than stare at him distastefully.” You exhaled quietly. “And then he had the nerve to ask me to come back out tonight.”

    “And did you say yes?” he inquired thoughtfully.

    Soffing, you shook your head. “Going out with that bloke? No. I wouldn’t lower my standards anymore because of that man.”

    Silence. You didn’t know what else to say. Everything was out of your system about the man. Clearing his throat, Tommy said, “You done?”     “About him,” you murmured softly, then you stood straight. “What about you? Anything troubling in your life--” You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Never mind.”

    He chuckled softly, nodding. “It’s alright. Got anything else, yourself?”

    You pursed your lips, then nodded. “Of course! How could forget?”

    Then you had began speaking about a whole different topic--nylons. Where were the silk ones?

    Grinning, he allowed you to lecture him on such a girl’s thing. Everyone knew silk nylons were on the black market--only there. How come you couldn’t find a way to get them?

    “I’ve been everywhere the women are selling, but they’re sold out. Sold out! You can’t just sell out of something such as silk nylons. They--” You broke off when a pair of lips crashed onto yours.

    Your eyes widened and you blushed when you realized it was Tommy--your best friend Tommy. When he pulled away, he smiled gently. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”