London, 1924

It wasn't your fault you got so excited, sometimes you just couldn't contain yourself! Signing your words barely cut the cloth when it came to the level of excitement you were feeling.

Skipping merrily through the distillery, you watched your path carefully, on account of Alfie telling you how loud it actually was in the warehouse, so his lads wouldn't hear you coming, no matter how slow you walked.

Ishmael caught sight of you and fell into step, knowing if anything happened to you while he was around Alfie would have his neck wrung.

Floating with unbound joy and enthusiasm, you hopped up the short flight of stairs into Alfie's mezzanine office, knowing that since the door was propped open he wasn't too busy.

"Treacle tart!" Alfie exclaimed at your sudden appearance, standing to greet you, "what the bloody 'ell are you doin' 'ere, eh?" he grinned as you fell into his arms and began to sign and gesture wildly.

Effectively quieting you, he stopped your hands.

"Easy, easy darlin', I'm only one man yeah? Lemme see you hmm? There we are, you remember to go slow for your old man yeah?" he crooned, adjusting his spectacles on his nose.

Alfie watched you intently as you signed to him, nodding along, making little noises as he paid close attention to you.

"That's it, nice 'n' easy yeah? You'd have thought you were tryin' to take off the rate you came flappin' in 'ere my turtle dove," Alfie chuckled fondly, kissing your forehead.

"Come and get comfy yeah? Come 'ere to your old man eh?" Alfie sat back down in his worn, warm leather Winchester, patting his knee.