poison • thomas shelby

twenty three.

THAILIANA WILKINSON

Thailiana stood behind the bar in the Garrison, alone, cleaning up after the many men that had gathered only hours before. She was sorting the alcohol when she heard rough knocks on the door, jumping from the sudden sound that disrupted the peace and quiet she'd been living in other than the calming rain. She rushed to open the doors, confused and concerned.

She shouldn't have been surprised when Thomas Shelby pushed passed her, rolling her eyes as he didn't utter a word. She closed the door once she'd registered that he'd gone through.

"Leave that open." He sounded worried as he spoke, pointing to the door as he walked across the room and repositioned chairs and tables that Thailiana had spent minutes putting in place. She huffed as she walked behind the bar, her heart pounding at the fact she was in fact alone with Tommy for the first time since their fight. Had he not been so anxious, she probably would have had some very daring thoughts that even the Devil would be ashamed of.

Trying her best to help, she took out a glass and the finest bottle of whiskey that she could find, placing both on the bar. She began unscrewing the bottle as she stared at the man before her, trying to get him to give her even the slightest idea of what he was doing.

"No."

"Are you expecting trouble?" The brunette asked, now beginning to become strongly concerned at the fact that he'd even refused whiskey.

"Yeah."

She huffed as he gave her little to no more information. "At this hour?"

"Midnight is as good an hour as any." He replied, placing a gun on the bar.

"Tommy, what the hell is going on?" She stared at the murdering machine he'd put in front of her, fear slowly making it's way through her body.

"When the St. Andrew's bell strikes midnight, two IRA men are going to come through that door." Thomas pointed to said door, "When they have what they want, they plan to kill me. It's your job to stop that from happening."

"First of all, I'm a barmaid, not a bloody trained assassin. How the fuck am I supposed to do that?" The young woman frowned at him, the remaining anger from the previous night still surging through her veins. "Second of all, a little warning would've been nice!"

"I just got the message myself." He continued filling the gun up with bullets. "They want to meet here alone."

"And barmaids don't count?"

"No, barmaids don't count." He repeated, walking behind her to point out his plan. "Now, you're going to be in that back room, I'm going to be sitting there. When I make a toast, you're going to come out with that thing raised, you don't shoot, just point. I'll do the rest."