𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍, ᵖᵉᵃᵏʸ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵈᵉʳˢ

𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯

Too absorbed in the situation she was caught up in, she didn't notice until last minute, the feeling of a solid object being pressed into her head. The abrupt feeling startled her into an unmoving state, her nerves spiking tenfold in alarm.

"Let's continue to use our words. Lower the gun, Grace," Lettie's voice had rang clear throughout the stillness of the Garrison. She had snuck in behind the back knowing Grace would have used any tactic in the book. Any betrayer would have. Tilting her head to the side, the gun still steadily being held in her left hand, she waited for the woman to comply.

Polly smirked from where she stood. Jutting her head to the young woman, she feigned foolishness, "Oh, did I forget to mention Lettie was coming?"

Keeping her gun trained on her target, Grace never strayed. Leticia had noticed this and couldn't help but shake her head, "I think you're right, Pol. Instinct is a funny thing."

The Gray woman kept her line of sight on the blonde who still hadn't moved one inch. Searching her eyes, Polly then concluded, "Let me guess. You're in too deep now, aren't you?"

Grace disregarded what she said, her hand now shaking with an unsteady grip, but Polly didn't miss the slight shake of her head or the water building up in her eyes, "This gun is loaded."

Pushing forward, the Morelli woman fought back with the same persistence, "I gave you the chance to leave, and you didn't."

Grace grew tense at the pressure being applied to her head, her nerves spiking more. She knew the gun placed next to her head was loaded, she knew. When you play fire with fire, someone is bound to get burned.

"I'm not afraid of you. I feel sorry for you." Polly walked closer to the faltering blonde as the words being said started to slowly get to her, "Slip of a thing. You thought you'd come in here and stitch us all up. We've had some coppers narcs in here, but you, you're the queen of them all."

"So, who are you?" Polly asked, but like always she already knew the answer.

"Rich girl, I'd say." Lettie piped up after sharing a glance with the older woman.

"Unionist. Ulster volunteer." Polly suggested after Leticia had spoken.

"Good girl gone bad. Revenge driven, maybe." The Morelli Gypsy listed once more as she saw the gun Grace was pointing slowly lower in defeat.

Polly seeing their words finally diving deep into her thoughts, she continued, wanting to get to the end of what had drove her to do what she did, "You thought fenians, communists, low people...they're all the same. Scum. Then you met Tommy, but it was your friendship with Lettie that really changed your views."

Grace walked to the counter to set her gun down, the words being said not sticking with her too nicely. Then rolling up her sleeves, she got in a defensive stance, "I'll fight you with my fists and show you how a rich girl fights. I'm from a tough family, too."

Leticia scoffed a laugh before dropping her arm, the gun lowering to her skirt to be tucked back into her garter. She knew no fight would break out, the Gray woman was too dangerously classy for that. Besides, no matter how betrayed Lettie had felt, she wouldn't fight Grace.

Polly walked to stand face to face with the barmaid before she brought her hand up to put her needle back into its rightful place, "Nah. We women have more sense," silence met the three independent women before Polly insisted, "Why don't you pour us all a drink."