Author's Note: Nucky's party, which has involved almost the entire cast, finally comes to an end. Clara starts to understand the conspiracy, and considers leaving Atlantic City.

Damn it, Clara thinks as she hears footsteps approaching. She rushes over to Charlie and Gillian, who are mercifully mostly dressed, takes Gillan's arm and all but throws her to Richard. "Richard, take Gillian through the waiter's hall down into the ballroom. The men are outside, Charlie and I will cover."

Richard looks back, not on board with the idea of leaving her alone with Luciano, but unable to come up with a better idea before Clara pushes them through the service door.

As soon as Clara shuts the door Charlie advances on her. "Are we going to pretend that you and I were alone in this room the whole time?"

Clara glares openly. "Keep your mouth far away from me, coglione. Let's pretend to argue, I feel like we can do that easily."

Charlie gives her his most winning smile, which Clara answers with an eye roll, before he says, "What, you haven't done a bocchino on your pet mostro?"

And with that, they were off. When Thompson opened the door Charlie and Clara were loudly yelling Italian insults at each with real passion.

"What the hell?" Thompson asked. How the fuck did Clara and Rothstein's errand boy end up screaming at each in the VIP Room?

Rothstein's eyes narrowed. Something didn't add up here. He thought of his wife's words-that Charlie didn't like Miss Thompson-so why were they locked in the room alone flinging insults at each other in Italian?

Jimmy been part of Clara plots since before they could walk, meaning he knew she was up to something. Richard had been watching her for hours, so how the hell did Clara end up here without him, but once more fighting with Luciano?

"My apologies, gentlemen. I was checking the room and found Mr. Luciano. Please, enjoy your evening," Clara swept out with as much grandeur as she could muster in the circumstances.

**********************

"Hmm. I think. We go. This way," Richard mumbles, unable to look anywhere but his shoes.

"Well, isn't nice for Clara that she has a champion to rescue her from whatever contretemps she finds herself in," Gillian says brightly, sizing up the man her son and Clara had both seemingly taken to so quickly. She didn't understand it. Just being near something so damaged made her skin crawl.

Richard doesn't say anything.

"Of course, Clara is a lot more like her father, like Nucky, than she'd like to admit. Clara enjoys playing Lady Bountiful." Gillian tilted her head and regarded Richard thoughtfully. The image of serious little Clara standing awkwardly in the dressing room of Blatts in far sexier lingerie than the girl had ever shown interest in before came back to Gillian.

Clara hadn't gone shopping for better underthings when she was engaged to Darcy Blane, a man Gillian herself would have happily married. The foolish, foolish little brat couldn't possibly have bought them for this broken remnant of a man, could she?

Gillian's emotions formed a simmering cauldron of resentment at her core. Everything Gillian had, she fought for. Meanwhile, she'd watched Nucky hand everything to Clara on a silver platter, and Clara acted like none of it was of any importance. The only thing Clara valued was her friendship with Jimmy. The only thing Clara seemed to want was the one thing that was truly Gillian's. Now Clara has humiliated her by slamming into the VIP room and interrupting her interlude with Charlie. She'd already been angry since dinner about the Commodore suggesting Clara and Jimmy should have married. Angela was no prize, but she was moldable. Clara as a daughter in law? Impossible.

And beyond her anger at Clara, Gillian knew that however distasteful she found Harrow he was a necessary component for Jimmy's success. A Boy King requires a loyal soldier. But this soldier seemed determined to play Knight in Shining Armor to the old King's daughter. Jimmy would be better served if Harrow's loyalty wasn't divided. Ending this childishness that divides his loyalty shouldn't be terribly difficult, Gillian decided.

"Clara is still young and very foolish. Sometimes she thinks she's being kind, but she's really being cruel because her kindness allows people to think things are possible that are not. And soon of course this will come to an end. Nucky has plans for his daughter, and when the day comes she bows to his wishes she'll leave all her little strays behind. And we all know that day is coming is soon, don't we?

"And of course with her mother's history, Clara is....well. I'm sure it's lovely for her to have a man in her life where she knows he's not even thinking sex could be a possibility. But after all, Clara will need a whole man when she finally puts away childish things, won't she?" Gillian smiles as she sweeps past him and back onto the main floor.

Richard stands in the hallway, unable to move. He has never understood why Clara-or Jimmy, for that matter-befriended him. With Jimmy, at least, there was the shared experience of the War. But Clara...the idea that it was all because of some sort of charity made his stomach turn. He remembered when Nucky had called him a stray that morning at the townhouse, but he had been to upset to consider it. He had let himself believe that Clara simply thought of him as her friend. Even though sometimes he gets confused, like tonight on the dance floor, when she seemed so close and suddenly all he could think about was what she would taste like if he leaned down and kissed her and for one moment he thought she was looking at him with the same desire.

He has more than he ever thought he would, after the War, he reminds himself. The idea that a woman would just treat him like a person once seemed so foreign. The problem was it was hard not to want more. But now Mrs. Darmody put into words what he always knew down deep. Clara would get bored with being nice to him and move on with her life.

++++++++++++++

Clara stands on the balcony, watching the party she planned to go on beneath her. Eli comes to stand next to her.

"Did you know that your mother's parents didn't want her to be with your father?"

Clara blinks. "No, I didn't."

"June's parents weren't crazy about me either, and Nucky thought I needed to wait to settle down. But your aunt? She's the best damn thing in my life. She's the one decision I always know was the right one to make."

"That's very sweet."

"Nucky, he was wrong to try and force you to marry Darcy. He thinks that's the kind of man you need to be happy, but he's wrong. He's wrong about many things, but he never thinks he is, so he feels just in pulling us along with his plans."

"I'm scared, Uncle Eli." Clara regarded her uncle, considering how much she dared say. She'd been dancing around this topic with Jimmy since the night of the election, but now she needed to know. She plunged in. "I'm scared of whatever is going on with you, the Commodore, and Jimmy. And who knows who else? Tonight at dinner, the Commodore humiliated Angela, me, and Father. I'm not even sure why. Eddie Cantor diffused the situation with a joke. He said Father hasn't an enemy in the world-but all his friends hate him. And that's true, isn't it? All of his friends are turning against him, and he doesn't even see it."

"You listed his sins on election night, Clara. At some point, you are going to have to decide. Are you with me, and Jimmy, and Harrow, or will you side with Nucky?"

Clara visibly flinches, one of her fears now confirmed. "So, Richard is part of this?"

"He's Jimmy's soldier."

"He's Jimmy's soldier, and because I'm a woman, I get no say in how this happens, but my life is still going to be shattered. Plus, I have to choose between my father and the men I love best?" Clara feels anger mixing with sadness in her throat. And when she turns back to her face her uncle fury is evident on her face.

"What's the plan, Uncle Eli? Do you think Father will just take his toys and go home at the first sign of rebellion? Do you find the Commodore so trustworthy? Do you think Jimmy is ready to take over Atlantic City? He won't turn 23 until March. He was an excellent soldier, but he's never been a leader. Taking down Father will require tact, coalition building, and a whole host of skills that I don't think Jimmy has ever practiced. I don't think Father's good at the new part of the business, but who out of the three of you can do the things he does to run Atlantic City? Who will attend funerals, and whip up the votes, and do all the million things he is good at, and that the city requires to function?"

"That's what the Commodore is there for."

"The Commodore? Who lost control of the city before Jimmy and I started high school? And what of Gillian? She's certainly cast herself as Lady Macbeth. The question is, does she see Jimmy or the Commdore as Macbeth himself?"

"Is that really a question?"

They stare at each for a moment; it's Clara who finally turns away. She's never sure what other people are aware of when it comes to Gillian and Jimmy. Almost everyone is aware there's something not quite right, but most simply assign the feeling of unease to Gillian's terrible youth when she had Jimmy. Clara's watched Richard dance around the idea since practically the moment he arrived on the Boardwalk. She's had a ringside seat for Angela's confusion and slow dawning horror. She's seen her father purposefully ignore the signs throughout her life. But Clara has almost always known that Gillian's youth is just the tragic prologue to the relationship between Jimmy and his mother.

"Does he know?" Eli asked.

"Does Jimmy know that his relationship with Gillian is inappropriate? He's aware, but he'll never admit it."

Eli laughed. "That's not what I'm asking. I'm not your father, Dollface. I can see that you aren't meant to marry some bloodless Ivy League character. And that you are so in love with Harrow it's making you cross-eyed. Does Harrow know how you feel?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you are talking about," Clara said, her public face sliding back into place.

"I'm talking about the fact that if your aunt and I hadn't walked when we did all of Atlantic City would have seen the two of you on the dance floor."

"Are you going to lecture me about how we could never be together?"

Eli looked honestly confused. "No, I'm telling you I'm sorry that no matter what our intentions you are going to have a bad year, but if you love Harrow-and I think you do-you should do something about it. You aren't your parents, Clara. You aren't destined to make their mistakes or relive their tragedies."

Uncle Eli was always full of surprises, Clara thinks.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Nucky Thompson surveys the ballroom. There's no sign of Clara, Luciano, or even Harrow, for that matter. Since the kidnapping attempt, Harrow seems to have taken Clara's safety as his personal mission. It was a relief, actually. He knew that Clara was safe and that Harrow wouldn't get the wrong idea by her proximity. It's odd, Nucky thinks, that Clara was alone with Luciano without Harrow lurking in the corner of the room. He does see Angela sitting alone at a table.

"Mrs. Darmody, may I have this dance?" Nucky asks. Angela smiles her assent.

"I've been remiss in sending my congratulations about your marriage, my dear. And now Clara tells me you have a new house, as well?"

"Jimmy said he always wanted to live on the beach," Angela said.

Jimmy's always wanted a lot of things, Nucky thinks. He also knows, because he had the property clerk pull the deed, that although the house was in Jimmy's name the Commodore paid. Nothing wrong with that. He certainly plans on buying Clara a house when she finally marries, but he'd always assumed that he would be the one to help Jimmy buy a house. He also wonders where the Commodore's generosity was when Nucky was paying for apartments, food, and doctors' visits for Angela and Tommy while Jimmy was away.

"I wanted to apologize for dinner. The Commodore was going after me, and you ended up in the crossfire."

Angela looks up with a sad smile. "Nucky, let's not pretend that the Commodore or Gillian think I'm a suitable wife for Jimmy."

"Neither of those two should be judging anyone."

"It's so odd to consider the Commodore my father-in-law. As long as I've known Jimmy, I've always thought of you, Clara, and Gillian as his family. You helped us all those years he was gone. I barely knew the Commodore existed. He certainly never showed any interest in Tommy."

Nucky looks down at her, wondering exactly what her husband-or even Clara-has shared with her. At that moment, Clara darted onto the dance floor, weaving her way between couples. Nucky watched her covertly and saw her approach Jimmy, who was standing by the bar. Jimmy reached out, gripped Clara's arm, and led her back through the foyer. Nucky frowned, the Commodore's words replaying in his mind. Since they approached puberty he worried about Jimmy and Clara's friendship, but they had sworn they thought of each other as siblings. They certainly acted like siblings, Nucky thought. But he was starting to think he knew neither of them as well as he thought he did, and something was certainly going on with Clara. She'd ended things with Darcy Blane and shown zero interest in finding a suitable replacement. Mostly, she just sat at that damn typewriter or spent time with the Darmodys. Sometimes he thought that she spent more time with Harrow than with anyone else, but that could easily be a cover for Jimmy. And something about the way she flew at Jimmy just now, and the oddness of the VIP room stuck with him.

"What the hell was that with you and Luciano?" Jimmy asked, lighting a cigarette, but before he could take a drag Clara had helped herself to it.

"Maybe ask yourself what woman in your life has a problem keeping her hands off Charlie Luciano and remember it isn't me?" Clara snaps but relinquishes the cigarette after a few drags. "Meyer Lansky had to come tell Richard and me that your mother and Charlie were missing. Richard and I found them, I actually don't have the words for what we found them doing, moments before you all came into the VIP room. Richard got Gillian out while Charlie and I provided a distraction."

"Fuck," Jimmy says. Some little part of him actually thought his ma was happy to be with the Commodore.

"I'll take that as a thank you," Clara answers, reaching for the cigarette once more. They stand like that for a while, silently passing the cigarette back and forth. "Jimmy, I don't know how to cope with what's about to happen. I feel like Cassandra. All I see is pain, and terror, and destruction. I don't see anyone winning. And I don't know how to get you to understand."

Jimmy avoids looking at Clara's face. "It's just going to be a political coup. Nucky would understand. He did the same thing to the Commodore."

"That was before," Clara says intently. "Let's not pretend that Prohibition hasn't changed everything. Rothstein, Luciano, even that little troll from Chicago-"

"Al isn't that bad, you are just crazy overprotective over-"

Clara senses the trap Jimmy is laying for her and refuses to be distracted. "The game is different now, Jimmy. And the Commodore has no idea how its played." Clara stops. Treacherous sobs are in her throat, and it takes her a second to be able to talk around them. "And it literally does not matter what I say, does it? The play has started, and all I can do is stand on the sidelines, because what am I but a woman?"

Clara walks away. She hears Jimmy calling her name, but she doesn't turn around.

Margaret is standing inside the door, and Clara thinks the only way to describe her is starry-eyed. She's in love with what they've created, with the stagecraft magic of the evening, and with the copious amounts of money that made it all possible.

"You did such a good job, Margaret. Everything is lovely," Clara says with real feeling. Margaret is very good at all this. Margaret might be her ticket to freedom. She's already been freed from many of the luncheons and other responsibilities that had been hers since she left the War Department since Margaret came on the scene.

"Oh, I just.."

Clara shakes her head. "Don't belittle your accomplishments. This was hard work. It took creativity, organization, societal awareness...a whole host of skills and knowledge. Not everyone can do it, and you are really good at it." Clara smiles and walks away. Margaret stares after her a bit. She has a hard time understanding Clara, but there is truth in the girl's words.

The world will knock you down enough; no use doing it yourself.

"I think Rothstein thinks I'm fucking you," a voice says behind Clara's head. She seriously considers letting the sobs from earlier break free. She's tired, her shoes hurt, her dress is heavy, she's hungry, and the last thing she has the energy for is another round with Charlie Luciano.

"Could we not?" she asks softly.

Charlie starts to smile and then stops. "I owe you one. You didn't have to do that."

Clara nods.

"But, it's still fair to ask...did you like the merchandise?"

"You were doing SO WELL," Clara says, but laughs.

"I've never been friends with a girl I haven't fucked," Charlie admits.

"Are we friends? Then stop calling Richard a monster, okay? The rest..." Clara rolls her eyes and then smiles. "I rather enjoy the rest. But I don't like that."

Charlie nods. "Fine."

Clara wanders the dance floor, stopping to say hello to people. Rebecca Spencer waves her over, and since in theory they have been friends since grade school Clara stops to talk with Rebecca and her husband. Finally, after what seems like hours, she spots Richard. She waves at him across the dance floor before spotting Babette and whispering to her.

"Come with me?" Clara whispers and reaches for Richard's hand before pulling him into a back hallway. She leads him into a room overlooking the dance floor, where two small tables are set up. "I'm starving, you must be, I thought we could have supper."

Richard looks down. It's kind. It's probably the only way he'll be able to eat, and since it's three in the morning and he can't remember the last time he ate he's starving. Gillian's words reverberate in his mind, though, and he wonders what lies behind Clara's kindness. "Why?"

"Why do I want to eat supper with you?" Clara asks. He looks at her quickly, and something about her face troubles him. She's not even pretending to be happy. "Because typically you eat supper with the person you actually want to spend time with."

It's Clara's turn to watch him. He's looking down at his feet, but the right side of his cheek is twitching hard. "Richard, what would you say if I asked you to go somewhere else. San Francisco, or New Orleans, or Cincinnati, or St. Louis. Just...somewhere else."

"You can't. Leave Atlantic City," Richard said.

Clara shakes her head. "I can write from anywhere. I have money saved up. I don't think I want to be here for what comes next. You left home, you left Chicago, would you leave Atlantic City with me?"

Richard stares at her. He's not sure what she's asking. "I can't. Leave Jimmy."

Clara smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Jimmy's very lucky," she says softly before sitting down at her table.