𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐘 & 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 | 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒

ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ʙɪʟʟʏ ᴋɪᴍʙᴇʀ

"What's the sour face for?" A voice vibrated in her eardrums, amongst glasses clinking and drunken howls. "Oi, Clee." A set of brown eyes blinked into reality, as the young woman looked up to meet John Shelby, who sat opposite her, amongst his family, and friends in the Garrison. He swayed slightly, with the drink he consumed. 

"Sorry." She rose from her seat pushing open the door of the snub into the open floor of the pub, where her eyes met Thomas and Grace having a hushed conversation. She avoided her eye contact, as her name being called echoed in her ears, as she left the Garrison.

It so happened, that the anger she felt towards Grace would be drowned and killed with the knowledge that Billy Kimber and his men, were already on their way, with a bullet ready for Thomas Shelby's head. She didn't want to go to the tenement building, to have another strong word with Grace, she didn't want to go back to the pub, and look at the Shelby's, knowing what she knew. But soon came the time, when Polly decided to share her knowledge, with her family, the head Shelby walking across the road to where she leaned against a wall. 

"Did you know?" He asked sharply staring deep into her irises, with conviction. Her face remained still. 

"I worked it out this morning with Campbell. I didn't even know my parents knew him, let alone Grace, so if you've come to have a go at me. Don't." She spoke in a mumble a cigarette between her lips, as she sighed, smoke coming out of her mouth. The man stood, lighting his own cigarette, staying silent for awhile. 

"I know you told Polly. Not many people would go against their family. Not even you could do that" Cliona looked at him with confusion. "You told Polly knowing she would settle it like a woman. If you were really trying to get back at Grace, you would've told me" Her eyes darted away from him, down the street as the Peaky boys walked up the street. "She's leaving" He stated standing up a little straighter. The girl gave a reserved nod, strands of curled hair falling messily over her face. "You should talk to her, before she goes" A small laugh escaped the girl, as she shook her head. Not of what he suggested, but of a revelation. Thomas Shelby was not as cold hearted, as he made out to be. 

"I'll write" She breathed out as the boys approached, guns in possession. 

"All right, men and the lady ..you know that battle plans always change and get fucked up. Well, here it is. Things have changed. We fight them here. Today. Alone. Now, they're going to come for the pub. They're going to try to break us up for good. And we'll have no help from the law today. That pub there is called the Garrison. Well, now it really is one. And it belongs to us, right? Jeremiah says two Riley vans. So I reckon we're outnumbered three to one. Ah Fuck....But it's us. Never lost a fight yet. Those who don't know, this is Cliona, and I swear on that pub, and these rifles, she's a dead shot. She's one of us now, boys." The men cheered as John pushed her gently on the shoulder, as she let out a laugh, and for a second she wasn't Grace's sister. She was a Peaky fucking Blinder.

Billy Kimber and his men stood in the middle of the street, as the Peaky Blinders stood facing them, their weapons ready to be fired. As it seemed, the Blinders were outnumbered, and outgunned. Kimber made good use of this fact, laughing in the face of the devil himself. However Freddie Thorne strode forward with a Lewis gun, that could take out three men at once. 

"You were saying something about being out-gunned." He spoke amused as suddenly his wife, pushed through the crowd rather pissed off. Ada Throne was a force to be reckoned with. She stood between the two sides, her baby in her arms. .

"I've got brothers and a husband here but you've all got somebody waiting for you. Now, I'm wearing black in preparation. I want you to look at me. I want you all to look at me. Who'll be wearing black for you? Think about them. Think about them right now. And fight if you want to, but that baby ain't moving anywhere. And neither am I." She yelled. Cliona thought of her sister, the only family she had left. Yes, she'd made a mistake, but she was her blood. And blood sticks together. Her arm that held a gun dropped, as quickly as it had rose. She didn't want to fight anymore. Not here. Not with her sister. There was a time and place, but this wasn't it. Suddenly a gun shot echoed through the streets, as a man her side of the street, dropped dead. Thomas hand rose with his gun, as quick as his friend had dropped. Billy Kimber sneered as Cliona made eye contact with him. 

"Never wanted that whore of a sister you have. It was you, I wanted a real fuck from" Another gun shot echoed, and a bullet was between Kimber's eyes. Billy Kimber was dead, and Thomas Shelby had shot him. Cliona's eyes darted to the man, as he staggered back, the air knocked from his lungs. A deep red seeped through his shirt. He'd been shot. Cliona turned to John quickly. 

"Go back to the house and tell Polly to get a pair of tweezers and hydrogen peroxide" John nodded running on down the street, as Arthur and Cliona took a shoulder of the man each, going down the street as quick as possible, making their way to the house.

The sun finally set on that eventful day as Thomas Shelby sat in his office, pulling his shirt back on with a slight wince. "So, you're not going with Grace?" he questioned as the girl walked into his office. Cliona shook her head slowly. 

"I think I'm going to stick around for awhile, if that's okay" Thomas nodded slowly. 

"Certainly. You've proved yourself. Not to mention you're the smartest person in this bloody place" Cliona walked towards the door again, her fingers clasping around it, with a small smile. She heard him stand up from his seat throwing on his jacket. 

"The Garrison?" He questioned when she opened the door. Cliona nodded as they walked though the empty building and out onto the streets of Small Heath. 

"I'm going to open that champagne bottle." The young woman spoke, pulling her coat closer to her chest. 

"To toast to what?" Thomas questioned, turning the corner with her, the Garrison in sight. 

"To the others, Mr Shelby. All the others" Thomas questioned that statement for months prior to the pop of a champagne bottle. He loved Grace, but he'd love again. The reminder of Grace lived on in Cliona Burgess, a woman he respected as much as Polly and his sister. A woman he didn't want to share a bed with, or do business with. The woman was his friend, and his family was by his side. That was all he needed.