Bloodsport ; tommy shelby

𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 - herald angels

It was Christmas Eve, and Small Heath was surprisingly jolly. There was always something so beautiful about how no matter how much strife and thrift people lived with, at Christmas they would pull together as much as they could. Small Heath was just as poverty-stricken as it always had been, but the war was over and it was Christmas time, so there was a hopeful warmth of togetherness in the air.

Iris sat on her bed across from Betty as they wrapped presents. They had been drinking spiced wine all afternoon that they'd bought with their Shelby company Christmas bonuses, and were listening to music on her record player.

"You know, I think I'm adjusting to life as a gangster," Betty smirked as she arranged the poorly-baked mince pies the girls had made into a tin.

Iris let out a chesty laugh, shaking her head. She had a cigarette in one hand and her glass of wine in the other. Occasionally she would put the glass down on her bedside table and continue to wrap her presents as she hummed along to the music.

"You're no gangster, Betty Cox," she laughed. "You go white as a sheet every time Tommy enters a metre radius."

"Yeah and you go weak at the knees," Betty retorted with a cheeky grin, kicking Iris in the leg.

"Oh shut it you," Iris waved her off with a small smile, leaning back against the headboard.

"Fine, I won't ask," the blonde smirked, taking a sip of her wine. "Anyway, it's a shame because Margie offered me my job back."

"What, already?" She raised an eyebrow. "You're not going to take it, are you?"

"She's not happy I'm working for the Shelby's," Betty explained. "She asked me to come for Christmas Day, too."

"Oh that's good!" Iris grinned. "I knew she'd come around sooner or later."

"She's kind of like a mother to me I think," Betty said. "And I suppose I'm a bit like her daughter, 'cept she already has one."

"So will you take the job?" She asked, secretly praying the girl would say no. Betty had grown on her, and it would make her days at the Shelby's far more tedious if she had to do it alone.

"Might do," Betty shrugged.

"But you make so much more money with the Shelby's!" Iris protested.

The blonde laughed a little strangely, as if she thought there was something Iris didn't quite understand. "It's blood money, Iris," she said. "It's all filthy blood money."

Iris gulped. There was a chilling edge to what her friend had said, and she wanted to go back to having fun. Recently it had felt like Iris was leaving the darkness of her past behind, and Betty's morbid words weren't exactly helping.

She leaned forward and flicked her friend on the nose. "I thought you were a gangster Elizabeth Cox."

Betty rolled her eyes with a small smile, snapping out of her seriousness. "Come on," she said. "Let's deliver the Shelby's their presents."

♞

"I thought it was your day off," Polly Shelby looked Iris and Betty up and down as she leaned against the doorframe.

"We brought presents." Betty explained, holding out the shoddily wrapped box of mince pies and bottle of Brandy.

Polly raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth to speak.

"Who is it, Pol?" Ada's voice called from indoors.

"Just a minute!" She called back sternly.

John came past the door, cigar between his lips. "Merry Christmas," he said, his eyes lingering on Betty.