i found you .. and you found me // Thomas Shelby

40- sometimes

"I've never been so caught up, still so into us, I never thought I'd be here, should've turned to dust... oooh, let's be honest, baby, this is so unusual... oooh, I'm not tempted baby, even if they're beautiful..." -Ariana Grande-Butera 

Gia sat on the sofa, legs crossed watching her two kids play as she sipped on her tea and read the morning paper. Tommy was busy at work in his office and had been since the crack of dawn. Since the family had disbanded, he had to do a lot of the work on his own, purely because he was too proud to ask for any damn help.

"Good morning, Mrs. Shelby," Frances called through the living room, a smile on her face. 

Smiling back, Gia gestured Frances to sit down next to her. "You need to sit down sometimes, Frances," Gia chuckled, pouring her a cup of tea. 

"The post has arrived," she sighed, handing it to Gia who chucked the pile of letters on the table next to her.

"I'm sure it's nothing of importance," Gia scoffed, handing her a cup of tea, Isabel climbing all over Frances. 

"Non fare quel, bambina," (Don't do that, baby) Gia told her daughter, picking her off the maid and sitting her down on her lap. 

"Oh I don't mind," Frances cooed, stroking Isabel's cheek. "When you're that cute, hm?" 

"She's her father's double," Gia commented. 

"With her mother's eyes and hair," Frances bounced back, Isabel climbing out of her mother's arms to Frances. 

"I'm sorry, she just loves your company."

"Don't be silly," Frances smiled, "she's good as gold, aren't you?" 

Taking it as her cue to leave, Gia stood up and picked up the post on the side, the sound of giggles from Isabel to be heard throughout the house. Walking towards her husband's office with a smile on her face, she knocked on the door and awaited his response. 

"Come in," Tommy called, and Gia walked in, bare feet pressed against the cold floorboards, wearing nothing but a lilac slip and robe tied loosely around her small frame. "You okay?" 

"Of course I am," Gia smiled, pressing a kiss to her husband's cheek as he pulled her onto his lap. 

"How are the kids?" 

"With Frances, terrorising her," Gia chuckled, placing the post down on the table.

"Nothing new then," Tommy smirked, picking up the post. "Anything interesting?" 

"No, just rubbish," Gia commented, pressing kisses down her husband's neck. 

"Mm, you would say that," Tommy hummed, pulling the strings of her robe undone, pushing his hand up her slip, his cold hands against her warm skin. Grabbing her chin and smashing his lips against hers, Tommy pushed the chair back with his foot against the table leg, the chair scraping along the floorboards. 

Just as Tommy was about to remove his wife's slip, a knock on the door interrupted them. Stopping in their tracks, Gia giggled against his lips before climbing off him and putting her robe back on. "Come in," she called, smoothing her long hair out, Tommy hiding the lovebites Gia had left with his collar. 

"Sorry, Mr. Shelby," Frances spoke, "I didn't mean to intrude." 

"It's okay, I was just leaving Frances," she smiled, pressing a kiss to her husband's lips. "Meet me upstairs when you're done," she mumbled, and Tommy smiled against his wife's lips. 

"I'm sorry to keep asking, but Chef needs to know how many for dinner tomorrow. He's new, he's foreign. he gets very upset," Frances spoke.

Sitting down, Tommy sighed. "Right, well you tell that Chef that there will be twenty-seven guests for Christmas dinner tomorrow." 

"Twenty-seven, family?" Frances questioned, looking shocked. 

"Yep, I asked Johnny Dogs if he knew anyone who'd like to eat goose, and he said he knew twenty-six. Tell Chef I want ten geese, some but cut into steaks, some trout from the river. Fetch whiskey, brandy and wine from the cellar, the best we have." 

Nodding, Frances asked, "there will be children?"

"Lots of children," Tommy confirmed, "and with Johnny's tribe, there might be new ones born on the floor. So have mops and buckets ready, eh?" Tommy joked, cigarette in hand. "And I want you at the table, Frances, so make it twenty-eight." 

"I will be busy," Frances commented. 

"Nonsense," Tommy told her. "You've put up with me this past year, helped Giorgia with the kids. Tomorrow, you will eat our table." 

Smiling lightly, Frances thanked Tommy. "Things will get better, I think. Next year." 

Smiling back lightly at Frances, she took her cue to leave and Tommy began to open the post. The majority of it, nothing important, until he came upon a handwritten envelope, addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Shelby. With raised eyebrows, Tommy ripped open the envelope, a cigarette in hand.

Expecting it to be a meaningless card from some extended family member that Tommy didn't give a toss about, the black hand clouded his vision as he stared down at it. Feeling his stomach turn, he knew his peaceful year had come to an end. 

"Tommy?" 

"Tommy?"

"TOMMY!" Giorgia shouted, snatching the card out of his hands. "I've been calling you for ages," she told him, noticing his glare down at the desk. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" 

"Nothing," Tommy breathed, reaching for the card that his wife held. "Give me the card, Gia." 

"Why?" She laughed, looking down at the card which said it all. The black hand. "Are you fucking kidding me?" 

"Listen, it's nothing to worry about-"

"Nothing to worry about?!" She shouted, tossing the card. "The fucking mafia are coming, Thomas!"

"I know -"

"No, I don't think you fucking do," she scolded, running her hands through her hair. "I need to ring my dad." 

"No, Giorgia," Tommy demanded, slamming his hand on the table. She turned around to protest, but Tommy cut her off. "It could be nothing, alright? Business with Changretta's finished a long time ago, and -"

"I came to Birmingham with one sole purpose, Thomas, have you forgotten what that was?" 

Knowing she was right, Tommy bowed his head and sighed. "You came here to rid the Changretta's, I know."

"And I murdered every bastard in that family that stepped foot in this fucking city. I have kids now, WE have kids now. We do this my way, Tommy."

"And why's that?" 

"Because the last time we did it your way, I almost got killed. So forgive me for wanting to watch my children grow up," she scoffed, turning on her heel and walking towards the door. 

"Gia," Tommy called after her, watching her turn around in a huff. "I'll ring Arthur, check to see if he's got one. John too, but don't stress yourself, please?" 

"Tommy I come from the fucking mafia!" She protested. 

"The New York Mafia," he corrected her.

"Doesn't make a fucking difference. The Sicilian Mafia are just as brutal and I'm not having my family at risk, Tom."

With hands either side of her face, Tommy pulled her towards him and pressed a kiss against her forehead. "Don't work yourself up, okay?" 

"Scared I'll go batshit crazy again?" She scoffed, trying to make light of the situation. 

"No," he protested, "I just want you to relax. You deserve it, G." 

Pressing a kiss to her husband's lips, Gia escaped his embrace. "Go and ring Arthur."

"He hates me," Tommy scoffed, picking up the phone. 

"No, he doesn't, my love. Maybe ring John first, yeah?" 

Nodding at his wife's comment, Tommy dialed John's number. "And Tom?" Gia called from the doorway, "tell John I love him."

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