Alfie made his way into the darkness of the tent; the only lights, the ones that illuminated a small stage that had a potted aspidistra on each side. The tent was already full, an air of excitement filling the expanse, as the big Londoner stood at the back of the crowd. He had to admit that he was still a little confused. All he wanted to do was see (Y/n), not this painted lady; but as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, the gangster now able to see that the vast majority of those that had paid to see this particular attraction, were men, he was finding his curiosity peaked; sure, that this woman might be worth a look after all.

Suddenly a hush fell over the crowd, as Sheamus appeared from behind a curtain at the back of the stage. The Irishman clearing his throat and throwing open his arms, as he prepared to give the punters his well rehearsed spiel.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, I present to you the beauty that is Cassiopeia; the eighth wonder of the world. The walking work of art!" The older man announced quite dramatically, before the curtains were pulled apart and a figure appeared covered in a heavy, deep red cloak, their head concealed by a hood.

"Feast your eyes on a woman the likes of which you have never seen before............" The Irishman continued. Alfie's eyes growing wide as the hood and cloak suddenly fell from the form of the attraction. The Londoner stepping forward, as he saw the woman that he had come to see. Alfie now seeing why when he had first met her, (Y/n) had been wearing clothes that covered her from neck to toe.

There she was in the slightest costume that Alfie had ever seen. A costume so slight that the baker could feel his cock instantly harden. Sheamus holding out his hand for her to take. The old man turning her around so that all presents could see the art that covered her skin.

Alfie had to say that even though he had thought that she was beautiful before, at this moment, she appeared as glorious as the stars in the night sky. Though why the circus owner had chosen to name her after possibly the vainest woman in Greek mythology, he didn't know. The gangster sure that he had not seen the slightest hint of vanity. Of pride or boastfulness when he had spent time with (Y/n); Alfie feeling that quite the opposite was true in fact. And if it had been left to him, Alfie would have named her Helen, instead. Sure, that this painted lady's face could launch as many ships as the Lady of Troy. That he would happily go to war to win her hand.

"Cast your eyes upon this wonderous creature. Upon her skin lies the story of her travels across this world. See the work of the Shaolin monks from her time spent in their monastery at the foothills of the Himalayas. The ancient inscriptions of the mysterious gurus of India. The art of the Siamese, the peoples of the Pacific Islands, and the natives of the Americas. Each piece tells a story. Each piece is more perfect than the last." Sheamus announced, as he continued to have (Y/n) turn slowly. Some of the young men at the front of the crowd making a few comments, before one whistled loudly and asked what the other tattoos were, that were covered by the little that she was wearing. Alfie having to stop himself from surging forward, grabbing the bloke by the collar, before beating the living snot out of him. But he thought better of it, the beautiful painted lady seeming to take it all in her stride.

"Ah, my dear sir. What cannot be seen, are the mysteries of the world. Mysteries that will remain just that.........especially to you........" Sheamus chuckled, as he looked towards the young man. His friends laughing at the boy, as the Irishman went back to describing the glories of the painted lady. Alfie once more losing himself, as he focused back on the woman that he had caused him to stay in Small Heath.

                                                      >>-----------------------------------<<

(Y/n) pulled the silken dressing gown around her shoulders; thankful that the evening was over with, sighing as she took a seat in the old chair. I wasn't that it had anything to do with the show, she was used to men calling out, it was all part of it, especially given what she wore...........or didn't wear as the case maybe. Especially as the vast majority of those that came to see her, were horny little shits that wanted a quick thrill. That would buy the postcards of her that Sheamus had had printed, so that they could do, only the lord knew what with, later. No, it was more down to the fact that she hadn't seen hide nor hair of the Londoner. She had told him that if he really thought that he wanted to get to know her, that he should come to see the show this evening so that he could understand how she really fit in with the others. And then, if he decided that he still wanted to know her, then perhaps there could be more. But he had not shown, and she couldn't pretend that she wasn't disappointed. Her thoughts having been on the big man, ever since he had left her to go back to Tommy.

"(Y/n) a voice suddenly said. The painted lady looking up to see Ronny; the pale, sicky looking young man, appearing a little nervous as pushed back the opening of the tent.

"Hello, Ron. What is it.................?"

"There's this man that wants ta see ya. Says he wants a private viewing, that he'll make it worth ya while................"

"Is that right? Well........if its one of those little bastards from the front row, then believe me when I say that they have nothing that could make it worth my while.............."

"But what about me.................?" Another voice came. (Y/n) getting to her feet, as Alfie moved around Ronny and made his way into the tent.

"Could I make it worth ya while...........?" He continued, as broad smile pulling at his lips, as the painted lady made her way over to him.

"Oh, I think that you could." (Y/n) agreed. Sending Ronny away, before taking the baker by the arm, and closing the opening of the tent behind them.