CHAPTER FIVE.

               FELICITY WOODS WASN'T A fool, in her opinion, although many would argue with that. She was as naïve as they came, with her blonde curls and her hopefulness and her desire for a world that wasn't constantly at war with itself. . . one where people could walk the streets without worrying about the next man along, or one where they wouldn't even be able to imagine the sight of a man lying dead in a darkened alleyway. Felicity Woods thought that could happen, she thought that one day each man wouldn't feel the need to prove themselves through violence, through force, through great, unimaginable force.

Felicity Woods was most certainly a fool, more so than Thomas Shelby could ever imagine her to be.

Yet as the woman was making her way down Garrison Lane with her coat buttoned tightly together in a feeble attempt to keep the chill out, she didn't think of the blue-eyed devil who had caught her attention so well. Or rather, she tried not to think of him. It was hard not to, especially when one was to see him every other day whenever he walked through the Garrison's doors, demanding a bottle of whiskey or white rum and creating a presence of fear wherever he went. Felicity wished she wasn't so captivated by the way he did such a thing but even she couldn't deny that she was.

Thomas Shelby was strange to her, but that didn't mean she was any less frightened of him than she once had been, only a week or so ago. She knew that he had fought in the war alongside so many other men and as with all of them, he came back as though he were a different person. No one could blame him for that - no one had that right, not even the others who came back. Felicity Woods hadn't a clue what the war did to people, not really, but she knew of what effect it had on those back home.

As the girl walked, she didn't glance either way down the road, like she once would have done. She figured that she had already been dragged into working at the Garrison - for a reason that was still unknown to her, much to her annoyance - and no matter what became of her, anxiously checking the road for the blue-eyed gangster wasn't going to help her situation in the slightest.

And so that was why she stepped out across the concrete and almost walked straight in front of Thomas Shelby and only realised she did such a thing when he had snapped his head up in surprise. . .  and that particular emotion only deepening when he caught sight of the blonde and realised just who it was.

By his side was a horse - one of the most beautiful horses that she had ever seen - and whilst it was as white as snow, it seemed nervous and anything but the calm being that Felicity had expected it to be when she first laid her eyes on it.

Felicity inhaled sharply. "I'm so sorry, Mr Shelby," she apologised profusely.

"Don't be," was all he said in return, yet he tugged at the leather reigns that he held and wrapped them around his hand, only reinforcing the tension that Felicity was naively hoping would disperse.

Felicity nodded with a tight-lipped, awkward smile. "What. . . what's his name?" She asked, gazing at the horse.

Thomas glanced at it. "He doesn't have a name," he clarified, as though it was nothing.

"Poor boy, he deserves a name."

He regarded her with amusement yet when he spoke, his voice was filled with anything but. "D'you have something to say to me?"

It was as though her heart stopped beating for half of a second because Felicity's breath caught in her throat and she stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to say, or how to even speak. It was at moments like these when Felicity forgot the years she spent alongside her father - with him determinedly saying how a Woods is never afraid - and so after a second or two she blinked rapidly with the realisation that he was still standing there, waiting for her reply.

"Earlier this week," she began, "you said you needed me or some shit."

Thomas' expression remained unchanging as he spoke three monotonous words. "You're a Woods."

"That I am."

"And your father fixes races, doesn't he?" Without waiting for her response - although she didn't have one, as she had never expected him to turn the conversation onto the topic of her father - Thomas continued, "D'you like horses?"

Felicity only stood there, unsure of how to answer.

"How'd you fancy earning some extra money?" He asked her, walking around the front of the horse and pushing himself up off the ground so that he was atop him and looking down on Felicity.

Her ears perked up. "Doing what?"

"To get on a nice dress," Thomas said simply, coaxing the horse forwards, "I want to take you to the races."

And with that, the man encouraged the horse to move away from the girl so all that was left was the small dust clouds that swirled upwards as the animal kicked off with the gangster on its back. It was all Felicity could do to not stare after him, so she shook herself firmly and took off, continuing on her way to the Garrison.

No more than six hour later was Felicity listening to the other blonde stand up taller than the men, singing sweetly as her way to end the raucous atmosphere that had filled the room only a few moments beforehand. Felicity found Grace to be a sweet woman and she enjoyed spending time alongside her, because she would fill up their time with meaningless conversation and idle gossip as the pair worked together behind the bar.

She had no reason to be suspicious of the woman, no matter what anyone else might have believed, and so that was yet another reason that Felicity Woods was more of a fool than she took herself to be.

To Felicity, it felt as though a second had passed from when she was listening to Grace sing to now, when she was the only one remaining in the pub. Time seemed to go so much faster than it had ever normally gone, yet she knew that wasn't the case. . . rather, it was probably something more along the lines of she hardly had any time away from the pub, or any time away from her thoughts and her worries and why on earth a man such as the infamous gangster had said he needed her. Felicity hated dwelling too much on things she could affect yet it was all she often found herself doing, most especially on the nights where Grace went home and Felicity was left with nothing but herself for company as she locked up the building, as had happened tonight. And so when she heard a sharp knock on the door and was startled out of her weary haze, there was no one else to see to the visitor so it was Felicity that made her way over to the frosted glass doors, unlocking it from the top before she could let whoever was waiting outside, inside.

It was to her surprise that Thomas Shelby stood in the threshold, with his overcoat dark with rain and droplets cascading down his angular, handsome face.

"We're closed, Mr Shelby."

The man seemed to look right through her as he walked into the room and ripped the cap from his head, revealing his ebony hair to be dripping with water onto the floorboards. "Just get me a drink," was all he said, to which Felicity nodded without a word and escaped to be behind the bar once again.

As she unscrewed the lid to a bottle of amber whiskey, Felicity watched as the man came towards her and took the bottle along with a glass, before walking back towards a chair and sitting down heavily.

"Should I leave you alone?" She enquired quietly, making a small move towards the door and towards the outside, where the dark was overwhelming and yet Felicity almost wished for the warmth of her bed, as she felt as though she had been awake for far too long a time.

He shook his head roughly. "'Came here for company."

Felicity made a small 'o' shape with her mouth as she regarded him silently.

"Where's Harry?" Thomas asked, "And Grace?"

She walked around the bar and took up a seat atop the table next to him, so that her legs swung off the edge. "He took the night off, went to the pictures," the girl answered, "and she went home early, to rest or something."

Thomas only nodded as he unscrewed the cap and refrained from looking at the girl. With too much on his mind, he thought that it were best if he didn't add to it by adding more to it by wondering yet again why the girl bothered him so much. . . why it was here that caught his attention, rather than Grace, who happened to be the more reserved of the two barmaids. He knew his reasons for wanting her in terms of business, but in any other way? Thomas refused to acknowledge that there was any other way he was interested in her and instead busied himself with pouring himself the drink he had come for in the first place.

"How's your beautiful horse?" Felicity asked softly.

He didn't answer as he raised the glass to his lips and swallowed the glistening amber liquid. "I just put a bullet in his head," Thomas said in a monotone, sighing sharply as he leant back in his chair and regarded her with no evident emotion present in his cerulean irises.

Felicity swallowed back her gasp, and she wasn't sure if it was caused by shock at the action or at his blunt choice of words. "Was he lame?" She returned eventually, meeting his eyes.

Thomas shook his head barely, and it was so slight that if she had blinked, she would have missed it. "He looked at me the wrong way," he answered, widening his eyes almost mockingly, "it's not a good idea to look at Tommy Shelby the wrong way."

"What. . . what a waste."

As he poured himself another drink, a glimmer of a saddened ghost smile traced his lips. "Yep. A waste is what it is."

With that, the golden drink disappeared once again and he set the glass back onto the table harshly. "Y'know, in France," Thomas murmured, "in France, we got used to seeing men die. Never got used to seeing horses die. They die badly."

The girl held her breath, waiting for him to speak again. . . but he didn't. Not for a moment, anyway, whilst he reached for the packet that lay on the table next to him and plucked a cigarette from it.

He held one out to her, but Felicity shook her head. "I don't smoke," she lied, to which he didn't seem to pick up on and instead kept it for himself, striking the match so to light it.

"The races," Felicity continued after a moment, "it's Cheltenham you're talking about. Cheltenham's a grand affair, is it not?"

Thomas let out a sharp breath of air as he answered. "The King will be there."

Felicity widened her eyes. "King George?"

As he settled back in the chair, he exhaled white wisps of smoke so that his face was clouded for only half of a second. "Nope," Thomas said with amusement lacing his voice, "King Billy Kimber and all his men."

The 'o' shape formed yet again on her lips. "And what must I do?"

"For two pounds, you'll do what I ask you to do," he said shortly, taking yet another drag of the cigarette before expelling the fumes to the room once again.

Felicity bit her tongue for what she was about to say next, before plucking up the courage and gazing at him with a set, determined jaw. A Woods jaw, her father would call it, yet Felicity wasn't about to be doing that any time soon.

"I want three."

With that, Thomas only let out a disbelieving laugh.

The girl frowned at him. "If I am to be meeting a king," she explained, "I won't be wearing a cheap dress."

Silence descended upon the pair as he regarded her quietly for a moment, tilting his head and meeting her hazel eyes with his blue ones. With what felt like more courage in her heart than she had ever felt, Felicity held his gaze, wishing desperately for the smallest hint of emotion to be present in them.

Yet nothing in them changed and so as he nodded mutely to her previous request, Felicity felt her heart sink. . . but if anyone asked, she would deny such a thing, as she refused to admit that the man with the blue eyes and hard gaze had such an affect on her.

AUTHOR'S NOTE
i'm loving rewriting this but at the same
time i'm not  because i just want to get
to  the  soft tommy scenes that i wrote
( don't come at me , i began writing teen
fic  books  so  it's  iN  mY bLoOd  okay ) in
the first draft. . . anyway here you go , i
hope you enjoyed  and i know i used a scene
that   was   DEFINITELY  earlier  in   the
series than when felicity comes in bc of
grace n stuff but i needed to lmao alrighty
bye ilyasm!