When Tommy Shelby dragged his children out of bed at the ungodly hours of the morning, Florence wasn't sure what to think.
Her father barely let them get dressed and brush their teeth before he was hoisting Charlie in his arms, taking Florence's hand and nearly barrelling out of his house, into the still-dark streets of Watery Lane.
"Get in the car, quick," Tommy ordered, passing a half-awake Charlie to Florence as she climbed into the back of her father's Bugatti. "Stay fucking low, Florence, alright? Be quiet."
With lightning quick speed, Tommy situated himself behind the wheel and took off, the key barely turning in the ignition before he was stepping on the gas.
Florence had onto Charlie tightly, her seatbelt not even buckled in as her father drove at a highly illegal speed, weaving dangerously through the streets of Small Heath. She didn't dare ask questions; whatever Tommy was doing was for good reason. She just had to sit and be patient.
When the car finally stopped moving a few moments later, Tommy didn't even turn the key in the ignition before climbing out, swinging open the back door and snatching Charlie out of his daughter's arms, taking her hand and practically yanking her out. He lead them to a door to one of the newer flats on Cricket Street, slamming his palm down on the black-painted door a few times.
Tommy cursed impatiently, foot tapping anxiously against the cobblestones until he heard the locks begin to click, the door opening to reveal the last person Florence expected to see.
"Bonnie?" Florence was breathless, confusion filling her to the very brim as Tommy handed Charlie off to Florence, who stumbled under unsteady feet. She turned to her father.
"No time to explain," Tommy said, already heading back into the car. "At 4 o'clock, Bonnie, you dial Charlie Strong and he'll tell you everything you need to know. I'm on my way to see your father now."
Bonnie, who had most likely just rolled out of bed, gave Tommy a confused nod, looking back at Florence, who helplessly shrugged.
Tommy paused, looking into Bonnie's eyes with a steely seriousness. "You take care of them, Bonnie. With your life. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
And then Tommy was off again, and Bonnie quickly ushered the two Shelby's inside the flat.
Bonnie locked the door behind them quickly, placing a hand on Florence's elbow and leading her to the couch, where she placed Charlie down, taking a seat on the edge as he got comfortable. Bonnie plucked up a quilt from the love-seat, draping it over Charlie's small body before taking a seat next to Florence.
"What do you think is going on?" She asked quietly, in case Charlie could still hear. "Why do you think he's going to see your father?"
Bonnie shrugged, his shoulder pressed against Florence's. "He probably got a tip-off on the Italians," Bonnie said back just as quietly, his hand reaching out to rest on her knee. "Whatever it is, you two are safe here, alright?"
Florence could only nod, glancing at Charlie over her shoulder, who was sleeping peacefully on Bonnie's couch. The flat was nice, big enough for two people at most. The kitchen and the living room were a shared space, with a few doors leading to places like the bedroom and the bathroom.
"Nice place," she commented, glancing down as sleeping Charlie took hold of her hand, cradling it to his chest as he slept.
"Thank you," Bonnie replied, smiling softly as Florence took hold of his hand. "Your father is paying for it."
Florence looked over at him. "And you live here all alone?" Bonnie nodded, and Florence returned her attention to Charlie's sleeping face. "That doesn't make much sense."
Bonnie stood to his feet, tugging Florence up by her hands and leading her to the kitchen.
"Sit," he ordered, jerking his chin in the direction of the kitchen table. Florence obliged, and Bonnie turned to the kettle. "Dad lives at the campsite with my sisters. The flat is closer to the gym, so your father bought it out for me."
Florence watched his back as he filled up the kettle before putting it on the flame. "Don't you ever get lonely?"
"Sometimes," Bonnie said with a shrug, pulling two mugs from the cabinet. "I try and visit the family after training, but I've been trying to convince dad to let them come visit up here. He won't budge."
"Can't blame him," Florence said as Bonnie turned, placing a steaming mug in front of her, taking a seat next to her. "The city isn't the safest place to be, at the moment. Thanks to the Shelbys."
Bonnie gave her a little smile. "We're working on making it safer," he said, lifting his cup to his lips. "Once the Italians are gone, maybe they'll visit."
"Are you planning on staying in the city long after they're gone?" Bonnie looked up at Florence at her question. Both of them knew the underlying meaning to her words.
"Maybe," Bonnie said eventually, holding Florence's eye. "If I've got something worth staying for."
Florence leaned forward, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, elbow on the table. "Who wants to stay in this boring little town, anyways?"
And the grin Bonnie gave her at her words was enough to make Florence's heart burst at the seams. Bonnie leaned in close, pressing a sweet little kiss to the corner of Florence's mouth before pulling away and lifting his mug once more.
Florence frowned. "That wasn't a proper kiss, Bon."
He lifted a brow. "You want a proper kiss?" Florence nodded, batting her long lashes prettily. Bonnie almost gave in. Almost. "Come and get it, then."
Florence hesitated, trying to call his bluff. But she saw no joking in his eyes, only a teasing, biting grin. So, with all the courage she could muster, she stood up and plopped herself down on Bonnie's lap, her hands cupping his face, noses brushing. Her legs were tossed over his, one arm around her waist while his hand gripped her thigh.
His breathing had nearly stopped—Florence smiled, practically feeling his heart slamming against his ribs. She leaned in impossibly close, 'til their lips were just barely brushing. And then, as softly as she could, she pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
"I never chase, Bonnie Gold," Florence purred, her next kiss landing on his cheek. "Everything I want falls right into my lap—just like that."
The moment her fingers snapped, Bonnie's hand had snaked to the back of her neck and pulled her to his mouth, closing the distance between them with an urgency that Florence felt deep in her gut.
Her fingers danced to his hair, weaving through the strands of hair at the top of his head before yanking lightly, pulling his lips from hers.
The whine that left Bonnie's pink lips nearly made Florence retract her actions immediately, but she pulled through, her mouth latching onto Bonnie's pulse-point—just below his jaw—and taking the skin between her teeth, biting down lightly.
The moan that came from deep within his chest made Florence's fucking toes curl. She practically stopped breathing as she removed her mouth, bringing her lips back to his and pecking him softly.
"Just like that," Florence whispered, echoing her last words. Bonnie stared at her like she was Christ incarnate, breathing heavy through his kissed lips. She took him by his jaw and turned his head, leaning down to press a kiss to the little pink mark she'd made on his neck.
"You're going to be the fucking death of me, Florence Shelby."
