Warnings: Possible S5 spoilers!
Word Count: 613

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"This arrived for you, this morning, Mr Shelby..." You spoke professionally, handing your boss the neat envelope pushed through the office door at the break of dawn.
You could quite easily guess the contents. It had been mere hours since the crash of Wall Street and, with the return address simply stating 'London', you presumed it was serious business from Winston Churchill himself.
Before accepting the letter from your hand, Thomas reached for his glasses, perching them gently on the bridge of his nose before he half-heartedly read the urgent message. He never spoke, instead a slight 'tsk' escaped his lips as he shook his head, sighing deeply while he sunk into his office chair.
Usually, this would be your time to leave, to sit behind your desk for the rest of the day and file Mr Shelby's appointments and take calls from journalists trying their luck. However today, you tried your luck and spoke up to your boss.
"I heard about the stock market..." Your voice was surprisingly confident, although when Thomas' gaze met yours, an unknown look traversing his face, you sank back slightly, knowing you'd mis stepped, said something you shouldn't. "I heard Mr Churchill lost £75,000 in just two hours..." You carried on for reasons that eluded you. Your mouth just kept going, spilling word after word while Mr Shelby had still said nothing.
"Y/N..." He said, after a moment, voice low and raspy as he brought a cigarette to his lips.
Now you were scared. He lit the cylinder, taking a drag on it before meeting your gaze once more, leaning back in his hair, arm hung loosely in the air beside him.
"Sit down" You were shocked. Thomas had never asked you to sit for him before. Usually, his orders were to fetch him a whiskey or 'make sure these documents get to Arthur by the end of the day'. Never something so casual - so personal - as 'sit down'.
"I've lost money, Y/N, a lot of money..." You gulped at his statement, shocked by the outright manner he spoke in.
"Mr Shelby-"
"Call me Thomas" He interrupted, taking another drag from his cigarette and you nodded, smiling gently at his friendly gesture.
"Thomas... If you don't mind me saying..." You continued, trying once again to be considerate of your boss, "...You've been dealt a lot of bad hands in your life..." You stumbled over your sentence, trying best to pick the words that would appeal to Thomas the most.
"But you've somehow turned those hands into a Royal Flush. And look where you are now..." You held your hands in the air, exhibiting the room the two of you sat in to it's owner. "You'll bounce back from this, Thomas, you always do..." At your compliment, he began to smile, chuckling slightly as he stubbed out the remaining inch of his cigarette. Tommy didn't have to say anything for you to know he took your advice; the smile alone told you this. He rarely smiled and when he did you knew it was a special occasion. All he wanted was someone to talk to - someone who wasn't his family or business colleague.
"Go, get back to work" He spoke up, lips still curved at your pep talk. As you stood, heading toward the 'Shelby' engraved office door, Tommy beckoned your name and you spun on your heel.
"Thank you, Y/N... really, thank you..." You'd never seen him like this before. His voice was genuine, compassionate. He had taken your advice, and as you clicked the office door closed, leaving Mr Shelby on his own, you smiled to yourself, chuckling gently at your encounter.