𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿, 𝗲𝗽𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗱𝗲 𝘁𝘄𝗼:
goodbye, john

WHEN MARGARET WOKE UP, a black dress was displayed on the lovechair. Probably Thomas who gave it to her for John's burial. She looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes bags where prominent and her skin paler than yesterday. The truth was she hadn't gotten any sleep last night, her mind constantly going back to Thomas Shelby and how his hand felt on her waist.

Maggie slipped a dark leather shoulder rig and put her gun in the hostler sling low under her left armpit, just above her hip. Then grabbed her overcoat and put it on, she lighted a cigarette before leaving the room just to land on Thomas Shelby waiting for her.

"Morning," she mumbled, clearly exhausted. "Thank you for the dress," she added, exhaling the smoke onto his face as he nodded his head.

He looked up and down at her, "Suits ye," he said in a low voice. His eyes stopped above her hip as he noticed the gun. "Fuck, Maggie. A gun. You're a woman for fuck's sake."

Margaret shrugged, "I'm no ordinary woman, Thomas," she told him. "I thought you knew that," she added with a chuckle.

"That I knew," he spoke inhaling the smoke and blew it around them, he handed his cigarette to Margaret which she kindly took, inhaled, and gave it back to Tom. "In you go," he told her as he held the door for the woman.

Margaret's green eyes were settled on Thomas Shelby's hands as he drove to an open field, his hand would sometimes tighten around the steering wheel as a sigh would escape his plump lips. The burial was only family, and close friends—the only people missing were Esme and their kids, but none of them could blame the widow for her decisions.

Maggie stood between Arthur and Finn, both of them taller than her and once again she felt tiny surrounded by the Shelbys. The trailer was still perfect as everyone reunited, and Thomas Shelby stood there for a moment as Arthur joined him.

He cleared his throat, looking up from the ground, "This is how John wanted to go. On this smoke. . . and the truth is we died together once before. Arthur, me, Danny WhizzBang, Freddie Thorne, Jeremiah, and John." He continued to speak as Margaret tried her best to listen to it all, but couldn't bring herself to focus on his sayings.

Polly's voice was the thing that made her snap out of it, "You remember that God spared you. But what did you do with that extra time that He gave you, eh, Thomas" Tommy seemed unfazed yet his glance towards his aunt betrayed him, he was hurt but so was Polly. Her anger was fair.

Thomas was now next to Margaret, their shoulders lightly touching as they watched Arthur lighting a match and throwing it in the woods. It slowly started to go up in the flames, and Maggie knew this would be burned to the ground in four hours. The woman noticed some men far away from them, and apparently, Thomas did too.

"Stay. Don't move, eh?" Tommy whispered, instinctively putting a hand towards her lower stomach to stop her from leaving his side. A gunshot was heard, and they all started panicking falling down to the ground. "At ease. At ease. Do not return fire. I repeat, do not return fire. Stand down!" He yelled.

Maggie gulped, ignoring her heart pounding as, "Fucking hell, Tom! Are you trying to give us a fucking heart attack, what the hell is wrong with you?" She muttered going to Polly's side as she helped her sit down.

Tommy sighed, "I took the trouble of getting an invitation to Aberama Gold." He exclaimed to his men and family.

Maggie sat next to Polly and grabbed a bottle of whiskey as she started drinking from it, "Put us in the open on purpose. To use John's funeral fire as a fucking beacon, Polly stated, disappointed in her nephew's decision.

Arthur shyly faced his aunt, "We were never in danger, Pol."

All Maggie could do was stand aside, she was no closest friend nor a Shelby, and had no right to say something in these types of situations. She continued to drink from the bottle, carefully listening. Tommy was clearly hurt by Polly's words but, hid it because that was what he did best.

Thomas ignored his aunt as he turned to Curly, "Curly, get a boat ready to take the bodies to the city. And, another boat. . ." he paused, bringing the cigarette to his lips again. ". . . for anyone, anyone who wants no more part of this. Cause this is how it's gonna be," he yelled right onto Polly's face as she left with a scoff, head high up.

"I'm not staying for this, Arthur, I'm going home," Linda spoke as Arthur frowned, looking at his wife behind him.

He faced her as she started walking out, "Oh, yeah? Home's 57, Watery Lane. You go there, lock the doors, you wait for me," he told calmly handing her the key, but she simply glanced at it and left.

Arthur looked at Maggie behind him, she chuckled shaking her head, "I'm not fucking going after her, Arthur," she said as Ada sighed, taking the key from her brother's hand.

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Margaret stood in Charlie's yard, cigarette between her lips as she sat with one Peaky Blinder, she had no idea what his name was however she enjoyed his company. She stood up making her way towards Thomas' uncle, the little girl in her remembered this place like yesterday. She also recalled Charlie being such a great uncle to the Shelbys that sometimes, she wished he'd fill this place in her life.

"Charlie," she greeted, standing next to him. "How have you been?"

Charles smiled lightly, "I should be the one asking. I haven't seen you in such a long time, eh," he remarked as she hummed. "I'm sorry for you father. Eddie was a good man."

Eddie. Margaret Kegley smiled but echoed through her mind, and she couldn't help but miss even more her father.  Grief took time and energy, and in some way, she still hadn't completely recovered from his death.

Charlie let out a laugh, "Aye, I remember you and Tommy running after each other. Just around this corner, and your mum would scream at ye because kid always ran too close from the cut," he told, stealing a genuine smile from Margaret. "Ye would do it over and over again, only because Tommy was fucking scared to fall in it."

Maggie was about to speak until four men appeared, and stopped in front of the two, "I like your yard, Mr. Strong. How much would you take for it?"

Charlie looked lost for words as he finally regained the strength to articulate a few words, "It's not for sale."

"Not for sale?" Repeated Aberama Gold.

Maggie crossed her arms over her chest, "You fucking heard him. It's not for sale."

The man brought his attention to the woman, smirk displayed on his face, "What is a woman doing here? I thought they weren't allowed."

Margaret shrugged, "Oh, but they are. It's just too dirty for them, Mr. Gold." She replied. "But again, I'm not like the others. Want to see Thomas, eh?"

Aberama bowed his head confirming her sayings, "That's right." He told her as his men stared at her. "You're the woman the Shelbys warned us about. Margaret Kegley." He explained, and Maggie seemed to think a second before motioning for them to follow her through the yard. "Heard ye killed a man."

She lighted a cigarette once again, the smoke seeped in her lungs and she exhaled with a satisfied hum. Margaret was convinced she was going to die because of her addiction for smoking, and not something else. Her green eyes settled on the Eldest Shelby as he handed a flask to Thomas, the icy blue eyes of the man landed on Margaret then moved towards the man behind her.

"Mr. Gold right here took a look around," Margaret mumbled, annoyed by the hitman's presence.

Aberama shrugged, "I like this place," he chuckled lowly. "Fire for melting silver, canal to get it away. How much?" He pointed at Maggie with a smirk. "Ma'am here told me it wasn't fucking on sale."

"She was right," Tommy said. "Nothing you see here is for sale, Mr. Gold."

The man brought a cup to his lips, "Oh, everything's for sale, everything," he then threw the liquid in the fire. "You tell Mr. Strong I'm going to buy this yard."

Maggie scoffed, "You're fucking not," she uttered as Arthur hooked an arm around her shoulders, bringing her close and also trying to keep her close. "Arthur, let me fucking go," she muttered fighting to leave his grip.

Tommy looked up at Mr. Gold, "This yard has been in his family since they settled."

Aberama simply shrugged, "But I've decided to make it part of our deal."

Without turning back, Thomas yelled his uncle's name, "Charlie. Charlie come here," the uncle reached his nephew's side cleaning his hand. "I'm gonna spin a coin for your yard, Charlie."

"Fucking hell," Margaret mumbled under her breath, snitching the flask of alcohol from Arthur's hand, he looked down at her as she took a sip. "What is he doing? I'm going to fucking kill him, Arthur." Maggie whispered into the Eldest's ear.

The Eldest Shelby faced the woman, both of his hands on each side of her arms, "Mags, calm down. Tommy knows what he doing. Ye trust him, eh?"

Margaret sighed, "No. I don't," she turned back towards the men.

Tommy's voice clattered around them, "And if it's tails. . . I fuck your daughter, Mr. Gold," the smirk on Aberama's face slowly faded as Arthur and Maggie silently chuckled. "You have three daughters I hear, and Esmeralda is the oldest and also the prettiest, so I'll have her. So make her part of the deal and spin against the yard."

"Tommy for fuck's sake," Charlie whispered, clearly scared for his yard not knowing how far they'd go.

Thomas took a coin and threw it at Mr. Gold, "Here, you toss the coin, Mr. Gold," Aberama gazed at the coin, playing with it as he looked up at Thomas. "No. Please don't believe this is a joke, the coin toss is sacred, yes, Arthur?" Spoke the man.

Arthur agreed, "Sacred," he repeated. "If he wins, we'll insist that the terms of this agreement wager are fulfilled."

Maggie smirked playfully, "Toss the coin, Mr. Gold."

Aberama hummed, "What about having Margaret in part of our deal?" He proposed.

Thomas gulped as Maggie's eyes widened, her hand slowly making its way to the gun she hid under her overcoat, "You think I'm a whore?" She gritted through her teeth. "If I wanted to, I'd put a bullet in all your fucking heads. Don't tempt me."

Tommy exhaled the smoke, "See, Mr. Gold, Miss Kegley here," he showed her with his finger. "She's mine, fucked up of you to include her in our deal considering we all warned you about 'er."

Margaret felt her breath hitching as she heard Thomas' words. She's mine. The words constantly repeated in her mind over and over again, forgetting everyone around her. Never she thought she would hear Thomas Shelby pronouncing those words, especially towards her, Margaret Kegley.

"And before that time. . . please don't again disrespect my friends or their valued property," he told him and Maggie felt peace knowing he defended her today. "We missed Christmas, let's have it now," Aberama and his men sat the table next to them, and Maggie sat next to Tommy.

Her eyes never leaving Lizzie, Ada, and Polly as they walked towards the table with armed men around them. Thomas left Margaret's side as he went to his aunt's instead.

"Maggy, have a drink," Lizzie spoke passing her the bottle. "If a look could kill," she chuckled.

Maggie sighed taking the bottle and pouring herself a glass, "Lizzie, I swear this Aberama Gold is going to drive me crazy. Men and their cocks," she muttered.

"Thomas told he to fuck off, didn't he?"

Maggie hummed, "Told him I was his. Since when I'm a fucking property, eh?" She mumbled as Lizzie handed her the cigarette, and she allowed herself to inhale before giving it back to the raven haired woman.

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The brunette and Tommy walked back in the house as he locked the door behind him. Margaret and he argued about how she could live on her own, but of course, he refused.  A part of Maggie was sure, Thomas not only had hate for her maybe passion. She could see it in his eyes, she saw it again when he stated she was hers back at Charlie's yard.

"Tommy, are you going to work with Mr. Gold for long?" She queried as he stopped in his track.

He spun on himself staring at her for a second then nodded, "As long as we need him," he replied, even though Maggie already knew what he was going to say. Thomas Shelby was all about business.

"Just tell him to not piss me of next time, eh," she muttered sliding the overcoat off her arms and hung it next to the door. "Because you know I won't hesitate to pull the fucking trigger, Tommy."

He hummed admiring the woman's features, and body along the way, "Yep. I know," he murmured and she looked up at him. The bags under his eyes were prominent, his cheekbones were more defined than usual. "You should go to bed."

Maggie laughed, "I think you're the one who should go to bed, I can take care of meself," she argued.

"You see. . ." he started throwing the butt of his cigarette towards the fireplace. ". . . I can't sleep, Maggie. Every time I close me fucking eyes, I find myself having nightmares."

Margaret sighed loudly, "Drink?" She proposed as he nodded his head. She opened up the bottle serving the man an Irish whiskey, and one for herself. "Why would you tell I was yours?"

He grabbed the glass from her hand rather harshly, "He was disrespecting you, Margaret. If he wasn't here to help, I would have killed him with me own hands."

"Why? Because he was disrespectful?"

Tommy hummed, "Yes. Because he was disrespectful towards you. And no one can be disrespectful towards you, Margaret, ever," he said and Margaret swore she felt her whole body going numb. "Dance?"

Maggie arched an eyebrow, "What is it? You and your fucking dancing, eh?" She chuckled but managed to stand up, and taking his hand in hers. "I was talking with Charlie today, told me you were scared to fall in the Cuts so I'd run by it. . ."

". . . Every fucking time," and for the first time ever since she stepped in Small Heath, Thomas Shelby laughed and wore a genuine smile. A small one but real. "Yeah, I remember. Would come home crying because fucking Maggie wouldn't stop scare me to death."

Maggie looked down at their feet, "Is that why you hate me, Thomas?"

His eyebrows furrowed at the question as he asked himself, why did he hate the woman? "Maybe," he replied not having a single idea of what to say. "Or maybe I hated the way you were in love with my brother, eh."

"John? Yeah," Margaret smiled, not even hiding her childhood love for John Shelby. "Arthur was too old, always saw him like an older brother. John was probably the perfect match for the little kid I was. And you, me little self would have gone through hell for you Thomas Shelby."

His hand squeezed her waist lightly as they continued to dance around the kitchen, "You wouldn't now?"

She shook her head, "Probably not. I have my own demons and nightmares, Thomas. But like I said, I can take care of meself," she told him sweetly.

"We could take care of each other," he whispered. Weirdly, Maggie found herself thinking about the proposition, it was tempting yes, but she couldn't start whatever this was when murder was literally upon their heads. "Think about it, Mag."

A gentle smile grew on Margaret's face as she remembered the old days when Thomas would call her Mag, not Maggie, not Margaret—Mag. It was a little nickname he had given the woman when they were about three years old, and seemed quite attached to it.

His hands were now cupping her face, pad of thumbs rubbing on her pale soft skin, "Maggie?"

She brought her two hands and wrapped them around his wrists, and put his hands down, "Thomas, we're at war with the Changrettas. You take care of yourself, I take care of me. Alright?"

"Promise me you will think about it?" He murmured as she started to walk away from him. "Please."

"Promise me you will come back alive?" She requested, but it sounded more like begging.

Thomas sighed, "You know I can't promise you that, Mag."

"Then I can't promise you to think about it, not until we're all safe. Your family and I included." She said disappearing from his sight.

Once again, Thomas Shelby was left alone and exhausted. Margaret in the back of his mind as he finally started to see the woman for what she truly was, a wonderful and no ordinary woman. Someone he should have by his side and not as an enemy. During his nights, his ocean eyes would stare at the ceiling and he would imagine a quiet life with Margaret to his side, helping raise Charles maybe with some other toddlers running around.

Now that he thought of it, Thomas never hated Margaret. He loved her at first, God knew how much he liked the woman then they drifted apart and couldn't just like each other again. Too different, when in fact, they were so similar in every way possible. He experienced another type of pain when he would see his little brother, John, and Margaret running together in his uncle's yard. John wasn't afraid to run next to the cut to chase the woman, he was never afraid of anything—not afraid to admit he loved a woman, not afraid told hold her or comfort her, and that was why John Shelby was ten times the man Tommy was. Lizzie Stark was indeed right.

That was when he laid in his bed that he noticed he hadn't thought of Grace in a while. He was now convinced that if Margaret Kegley was by his side, all would be alright and the world wouldn't crash down. He just needed her.

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AUTHORS NOTE,
i've been pressured into publishing this chapter by minzynari — she's very dramatic, just so y'all know

ALSO ALSO maggie being the bad bitch, yup 😩😩😩

who would be interested in an arthur OR finn fic when this one is over?

love you mwah!!!