Peaky Blinders Imagines

[Ollie] - Querencia

Querencia: adjective; [Kwi-ren-cha] a feeling of home or a place that makes you feel safe.

Alfred Solomons wasn't what one would perhaps describe as a lenient boss. Working for Alfie meant there was no room for error, nor was there room for uncertainty or panic. He wasn't always like that, but in certain times when the occasion called for it, he was unrelenting.

You knew this through Ollie himself, only having ever met Alfie once yourself; from what you gathered, or rather what was presented, he seemed like a nice man. Violent and unpredictable were not adjectives you would describe him with, but given he was a respected gangster, you figured it may be true. Still, you had an automatic distaste for the Jewish gentleman for the way he treated Ollie. Several times he had come to you, either crying, angry or both, and most of the time it was because of Alfie.

Such a day as that, again, it seemed.

Tommy Shelby had arrived at Camden Town Bakery with a proposition for Alfie, and every worker knew that Tommy brought the absolute worst out of Alfie in terms of his mood. Ollie was no stranger to this. Every time he was mentioned, every time Tommy showed his face, Ollie got the brunt of it. Being Alfie's assistant, he was the one that was present during meetings, and when it was with a Blinder, tensions rose very high.

Tommy was busy antagonising Alfie, nothing unusual, when he turned his attentions to Ollie.

"Isn't that a fact, Ollie, I stopped to tie my shoelace?"

Tommy's voice shocked Ollie, quite clearly not expecting to be drawn into the conversation between the two men. Alfie made no effort to turn to Ollie, though he was curious now as to the game afoot; he could see Tommy's plan concerning Ollie. His eyes on Tommy instead of his boss, knowing no doubt he'd be furious, Ollie nodded and looked away. Tommy continued his point, telling Alfie that he had planted a grenade behind one of the barrels downstairs.

"He tied his lace, Alfie, and there is a kid at the door."

Tommy glanced at Ollie as he spoke, his tone playing on Ollie's obvious nerves.

"From a good family, too, Ollie it's shocking what they become."

"What were you doing while he was doing this?" Alfie asked, irritation evident now, but whether it was at Ollie or just the situation wasn't very clear. Ollie shrugged and shook his head.

"He just tied his lace, nothing else-"

"Yeah, but what were you doing?" Alfie had cut him off, wanting to get down to the facts rather than draw out a conversation he, quite frankly, wasn't willing to have. Ollie hung his head slightly, posture dropping with a some tire.

"I was marking the runners in the paper."

Alfie sighed, handing Ollie a gun. He asked him to shoot the kid outside that Tommy had arrived with, but the Shelby was quick to stop him, informing Alfie that the grenade would blow if anyone but himself walked out of the door. Ollie sighed in relief, inaudibly. While he was no stranger to killing, it came with the job, he was always uneasy about those kinds of scenarios. The meeting dragged on, and Alfie and Tommy came to heads.

"He did tie his fuckin' lace, Alfie."

Alfie challenged Tommy's story, Ollie however had bought in fully. He didn't trust the Blinders as it was, and knew Alfie was hot-headed and easily overlooked situations. He stared at Tommy as he recounted blowing up his own pub. Ollie caught Tommy's gaze and his panic became outwardly clear.

"65? No deal," Tommy spoke. "Ollie, what do you say?"

"Jesus Christ, Alfie, he tied his fuckin' lace, I saw him!" Ollie shouted, not as calm and collected as his boss, who was staring the Shelby down without so much as a breath out of line. "He planted a grenade I know he did, Alfie it's Tommy fuckin' Shelby-"

Alfie stood, hands banging on the desk as he did so, and grabbed Ollie by the scruff of his collar.

"You are behaving like a fuckin' child; this yeah, is a mans world. Now, take your apron off and go sit in the corner like a little boy, right. Go on, fuck off."

Ollie was let go with a less than gentle drop, and he shuffled out of the room without another word, the last thing he heard was Alfie's invitation to Tommy to continue talking about hand grenades.

Ollie wandered down the stairs of the bakery and out of the front door, his apron bundled into the side of his pants as he walked. At a quick pace, he managed to make it to your front door in record time, knocking with urgency and hoping you were home. The door swung open, and before you had managed to greet him, Ollie had brought you into his arms. You were stood in the doorway with him, his head buried in your hair and arms wrapped around you. You hugged him back, albeit a little confused.

"Hello," you chuckled, pulling away just a little so you could see his face. His breathing was fast but he seemed to be trying to calm himself down. "Hey, woah, it's alright. Come in here."

You took Ollie's hand and led him into your sitting room, a little messier than it usually would have been. Clearing a pile of newspapers and some cleaning equipment off the couch, you let him sit and parked yourself next to him.

"Alfie?" you asked, a rhetorical question just to break the tension. He simply nodded, head in his hands as he breathed out heavy breaths. Rubbing a comforting hand over his back, you let him calm himself. "If it helps, I can kill him?"

Ollie laughed, making you smile, and lifted his head back up.

"You wouldn't stand a chance, love."

"Perhaps not, but there's no harm in trying, right?"

Ollie had laughed again, and you joined in; his laugh was one of your favourite things about him. Certain days it was rare, but for the most part he smiled and laughed a lot. You knew he loved your humour, too, so when he was feeling low you knew your job.

"Sorry for barging in here, it seems like you were busy," Ollie said, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer to him. You leaned your head against his shoulder.

"No task is more of a priority than you."

The two of you spent a while longer on the couch, mostly in silence, but a comfortable one nonetheless. Enjoying each others company, neither one wanted to move, though Ollie knew he should be going.

"Alfie'll be looking for me, I'll have to head back." His voice was lazy, suggesting he didn't really want to go anywhere. You shared the sentiment.

"Don't go, I'll handle him," you spoke in a mock tough tone, and Ollie chuckled. Sitting up, he brought you with him. You placed a kiss on his cheek and smiled. "You know I could."

"Oh, definitely. It's not as though he's a foot taller than you or anything like that." Ollie mocked, and you nodded victoriously.

"Exactly, finally you're seeing some sense, Ol."

Ollie smiled at you, standing and making his way to the door. Once there, he turned and caught your lips briefly before pulling away.

"Thank you. I love you, and I'll see you later."

"I love you, too, I'd get your arse back to that bakery before you lose your head."

Winking at you, he slipped round the door and walked off in a much better mood than when he'd left Alfie. The list of why Ollie had fallen for you was a long, long one, but at the top was always how homely it felt being around you. You just seemed to make everything right, no matter what. Anything bad Ollie could bring to you, somehow managed to lose it's hold. You were like a safe space, and he knew that as long as you were around, everything could be okay.