Disclaimer: I do not own my new obsession that is Boardwalk Empire. I wished it did, but I'm not as creative to think of a show like that. Please do not sue.

Her second trip to Brooklyn was nothing short of disastrous. She knew she had done things in the past- and the present- that she was not and should not be proud of but that did not give he brother the right treat her as if...as if she was not a part of his family, as if she did not exist. He did not have to give her back the money; she wanted him to keep it- for him, for her sisters. In a way, it would be her way of apologizing for acting so selfishly. He did not have the right to judge her; he did not know what hell she had been through; he did not know how much Nucky saved her. He had no right to keep her from her family; she was only trying to help them; apologize for the pain she put them through.

Margaret frowned to herself as the cab pulled up to her house. There was no point, she concluded while wiping away the last of her tears from her eyes, crying over her brother's judgmental views. She muttered a 'thank you' to the cab driver, opened the door and got out of the car. The cab driver did the same, opened the trunk and walked the domestic partner of the infamous Nucky Thompson to the door.

"Thank you," Margaret whispered to the cab driver, before taking her bag and giving him a tip. The man nodded and left her herself. She stood at the doorway, slightly confused. It was quiet; extremely quiet. She would normally hear the voices of her children and her maids. She glanced around the house, "Katy!" she called out, "Lillian!"

No one.

This was odd.

Margaret was stunned, no, horrified when one of the last people she wanted to see emerged from one of the backrooms, washed his hands and continued to walk in her direction. She straightened herself, narrowing he eyes at the man. Why was he, of all people, here?

She raised an eyebrow when he stopped.

Owen Slater.

Why couldn't he just go away?

Her eyes roamed over his body, from the crotch up- of course while trying to be as subtle as possible. The last thing she needed was for Owen to know that she craved him. She could not explain this attraction to him; he was on the wrong side of the law. He had a habit of invading too much of her personal space when he was supposed to be focusing his attention on Katy. Maybe she felt connected because he was like her in so many ways? From the same country? The same background? She wasn't sure but frankly, she did not want to be sure. The sooner Nucky got rid of Owen, the easier her life would be.

"Hello."

"Hello," Margaret shortly responded, her eyes looking up and down Owen's stature for the second time. It was coming back again- she had confessed to the priest that she wanted Owen in a physical, sexual way- of course, she did not drop his name; he did not need to know the details. She could not help it; he was attractive.

And dangerous.

"How's the great metropolis?"

"Good... humid."

"Need help with that?"

Margaret let out a breath that she was not even aware she was holding. Her anxiety was starting to get to her. It would be her luck that Owen would be the only person in the house besides her, "I am fine. Thank you."

She could see the slight annoyance on Owen's face. She knew she was being stubborn but that was only for her own good. She flinched a bit when he continued walking towards her.

"Oh don't be daft."

"Alright then," there was no point on arguing over a bag. Without saying thank you, she gave Owen one last look before walking further into the home, towards the staircase, with Owen following her close by, "Where are the children?"

"The girls took them to the beach."

"That's hardly their job..." Margaret responded harsher than intended- but did not want Owen to know how much he was affecting her.

"Mr. Thompson gave them a day off."

Margaret sighed. Of course he did. Speaking of Nucky... she turned around, slightly glaring at the man in front of her. He had that infuriating look in his eyes. He was supposed to be Nucky's body guard- he was supposed to be with him and definitely not here, she thought to herself. She did not trust herself when she was around him and she definitely didn't when they were alone, "Why aren't you with him?"

Owen paused for a moment before replying, "Had to handle some business."

Margaret wanted to snort. Excuses, excuses, "Shouldn't you make an effort to him?"

"Where to put your bag?'

Great, he was changing the subject. She would deal with that at a later time, "At the foot of the stairs."

Owen nodded and proceeded to do so. There was an awkward silence; something that seemed to be a trend as fat as they were concerned.

She stopped when Owen faced her again. He looked a bit troubled, worried even. Margaret was tempted to ask if there was something wrong but he beat her to it.

"Have you ever found it odd?"

Margaret stared at him with slight confusion. She stared into his eyes, trying to read his thoughts before he could convey them. She had to be on top of things when Owen was concerned, "In this house?"

"In this country."

She bit her lip, "How do you mean?"

"Everything is off. The air. The water. The people... and yourself. You're off too. Bit by bit. And you think: if I vanish now, who'd care? Or even notice?"

"Is that how you feel?"

She vaguely listened to Owen's answer. She knew how he felt. Coming to America was not an easy feat as an immigrant. She couldn't count how many times people ridicule her accent and her religion...However, she moved on.

"...and life...passing by..."

She raised an eyebrow and started walking up the stairs, "Then you should be on the beach with Katy," that seemed to finally keep Owen's mouth shut but she had a feeling that he was not finished.

He let out a deep breath, "Thought you wanted me after Mr. Thompson."

She should have see that reply coming. She did not think she was that obvious. She had not shown any reason to suspect that she was attracted to him. She slightly frowned; she wanted to drive him away as best as she could, "In either case you needn't be here."

"I'll go if you tell me."

She remained quiet for a moment. This was definitely not the type of conversation she wanted to have right now. But... maybe she could take advantage of this, "Are mine to command?"

"If you like."

She looked down at the Irishman with intrigue and slight confusion. She noticed the slight glint in his eyes. He could not be serious, couldn't he? She had no words; whether it was because she honestly did not know how to respond or because she would fear any words she wanted to say- she wasn't sure. But she did know what the man at the bottom of the stairs would, no- wanted to be commanded. Her conscious was being replaced by something more sinister. She knew and could feel God's disapproval.

"You can bring my bag up."

She wanted to smirked at Owen's slightly shocked expression but she refrained herself from doing so. Instead, she one last week before walking towards her room. She could hear Owen realizing a deep breath and ascending up the stairs. Her hear beating furiously; her hands were becoming clammy. She cursed herself for asking Owen than question; she cursed herself for lusting for him but she could not resist him. Yes, he was having some sort of relationship with Katy. Yes, she should not be craving for him when she was with someone who had shown her nothing but generosity.

She opened the door to her bedroom and walked it. She removed her coat and place it neatly on the bed.

Her eyes followed the Irishman as she slowly walked into the room. When their eyes locked, she quickly turned her attention back to the mirror, "Put it on the bench."

She tried to ignore the fact that Owen was watching her removing her bracelets and taking off her earrings.

"You're the cool one misses?"

"No I'm not," she replied. She was no where near cool. She was a woman with needs, unfortunately. She began to unravel her hair, "I'm not how you see me at all."

for the first time, in a long time, she had found a way to silence Owen. She saw him staring at her in awe through the mirror, gulping as she let her hair down.

She let out a deep sigh, turned around and approached the object of her sexual desires- a desire, mind you, that was going to be a one time thing. When this was over, she would never think of him in such a way ever again, "When we are done, you will leave and not speak a word about it. Ever."

Her stomach did back flips when Owen smirked down at her and gave a nonchalant shrug. She really wished he did not look at her in such a way. It made her temporary forget that she contemplating in committing a sin.

"Well, it's all between strangers."

She did not respond as she was pulled into a kiss.

It did not matter if it was a stranger or not. It was a sin. A sin that Margaret was more than willing to commit.

This is a repost from a few months ago. I did not proof read it as well as I should, so I decided to reedit it. I'm normally not the one to make one shots so I decided to give it a try. his was one of my favorite scenes in season two and I don't even ship Owen and Margaret that much. I hope you all enjoyed it! Please send me your thoughts :)