What would happen if Polly's daughter had survived rather than her son?
What would happen if Michael wasn't a Shelby but instead fell for one?
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Michael and Anna hated each other from the moment they met. But it wasn't long before their proximity an...
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ten I apologise if you feel something
Late into the night Anna found herself sat in Tommy's chair, drinking Tommy's whiskey. No one was in bed yet, even Charlie and Carl were still up running around. She could faintly hear the boys laughing outside, making her smile. At least they're happy.
She was relaxed, her mind swimming in whiskey and dreams until the sound of a gunshot ripped through it all.
Standing up, she put on her coat and walked out of the front door and in the direction of the sound. The silhouettes of the boys were lit up by the moonlight. As she got closer, she saw Michael holding a gun straight ahead of him while Arthur and John cheered him on.
"What the fuck are you boys doing?" Michael turned his attention to Anna but kept the gun pointed straight forward.
A playfully dangerous look had washed over his face, an expression Anna had never seen before. She had seen Michael handle a gun when he was instructed to but never before had she seen him shoot, especially not for fun like this. A sinister smile grew on his face as his arm moved to point in the direction he was facing.
Michael and Anna held eye contact as he pointed the gun at her. Strangely, she felt relaxed, like she knew there was no way he would shoot her. Even without their complicated relationship, he would be murdering a Shelby in front of two blinders. He may as well pull the trigger on himself.
"Michael what are you doing?" John seemed nervous, unsure at Michael's intentions.
"Shut up John." Michael's voice was deeper than normal. "What's your next move Anna?"
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"A gun is pulled on you and all you have is a knife in your boot, what's your move?"
"Quit being a dick."
"Exactly." Finally, the gun was lowered. Walking over to her, Michael held the gun by its barrel, handing it to the very confused woman stood in front of him. "Point it at me." He whispered, leaning down so that their faces nearly touched.
"You're into some weird shit Michael." She smirked, only half joking. He kept the same playful smile on his face as he stepped back from the woman he had just put in charge of his life. Arthur and John had moved aside, nervously watching the couple pretend to shoot each other...
"What are you waiting for?" Michael taunted as Anna failed to lift the gun. But she didn't like being made fun of. Matching his smirk, she walked forward, the gun gripped by her side until she was stood directly in front of Michael.
Following several seconds of eye contact, Anna raised the gun so that it was pressed against the bottom of Michael's chin. Holding it there, she forcefully kissed him, her tongue instantly wrapping around his the way she knew he liked it.
