Two months later.
"Mind if I join you?" I asked the middle Shelby as he smoked his first cigarette of the day. I wasn't here to eat, rather get a better idea of the plan he made. He motioned to the chair next to him, so I sat down.
"Hungry?" I asked, I shook my head.
"How's your head?" I asked, relaxing my posture a bit. "This is the first time I've seen you in a couple months." I looked at him, exhaling the smoke. "How are you?" I asked. He was a lot different now. Soft spoken instead of demanding orders.
"Doc said your stitch work was great, the medicine they put me on was terrible." He told me, cutting into one of the fried eggs. I smiled, wiping a smudge off the glossy table. It was a fingerprint.
"What'd they put you on? Morphines?" I asked, he nodded. I smiled again. "Back home we used to take that shit for fun, seeing shit that wasn't there..." I sat back in my seat again, watching him close his eyes. "Must've been hell for you." I finished my statement.
"Almost every time I went to bed- after I took it- I saw you stripping off your clothes in front of me." he looked me in the eyes. I laughed a bit.
"Must've been nice?" I added onto his statement.
"It would've been if my brothers weren't there." I laughed at that. Me and Arthur? Really? That's hilarious.
"Speaking of your brothers, what did you want to do with the Russians? Arthur told me you wanted me." I started a new conversation. He shifted in his seat and looked at me while inhaling the smoke.
"Yeah. Since the Russians owe us money, you and I will pick out jewels for the money." he told me. I rolled my eyes.
"Why not your brothers? Or Ada?" I asked. He shrugged.
"They're more important to me than you. I don't want them to get hurt." he answered my question. For any other person they would get all pissy. This was Thomas Shelby for god's sake. He doesn't care about anyone but himself. I'm not surprised in the slightest.
"What time do I need to be here to leave?" I asked.
"Do you have somewhere to be?" he asked as I stood up. He's on his second cigarette.
"I got a side job to do. Since you are the main priority, and you pay in American, I need some pounds." I pushed my chair in and looked down at him.
"If you need money, i'll give you money." he offered, I rolled my eyes.
"I write for the paper. Two articles a week." I flipped the paper to the front page. "Photography and Article by Angelina Trace." I pointed to it. He picked it up and read over it.
"Why don't you go by your real name?" he asked. I couldn't answer that. I didn't want to answer that. Although I worked for the gangster, I didn't trust him. I couldn't trust him. He wasn't one that I should trust in any way. He didn't need to know why I went by a different name.
"What time do I need to be here to leave?" I asked again, avoiding his question. He closed the newspapers and inhaled his cigarette.
"Two," he answered. I nodded and left the room, not even saying goodbye like I usually did.
***
"And that's why we need Mr. Solomans." I opened Tommy's office door, revealing his two brothers and my dear friend Alfie.
"Did I hear that right? Mr. Solomans?" I smiled at the jew, he stood up and gave me a hug.
"You, Tommy-" he pointed at him. "You've got the best worker right here." his slurred accent filled my ears as he gave me a few pats on the back.
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EAGLE EYES // Thomas Shelby
Fanfiction"Who even are you?" That was a great question.
