Gun metal and Daisies (Thomas Shelby)

"You can't make a monster cookie to honour my name, Bonny."

A witch ought never to be frightened in the darkest forest... because she should be absolutely certain in the depths of her soul that the most terrifying thing in that forest was her.

Dorothy said nothing as she sat him down in the waiting chair.
She also said nothing as she rushed to the back room. She plodded around looking for the best equipment that she could.
The silence continued until she was sat right in front of him, tugging his waistcoat and shirt off.
Nothing was said as she prepared to dig around inside his shoulder for the bullet.

This horrible silence was different to all their other silences that they usually had. It was different because Dorothy was confused.

She now knew he was Thomas Shelby, of course.
But she didn't know how to equate her Bubs on the same line as Thomas Shelby.
They were completely different people in her head.

Dorothy very quickly realised she was foolish for ever thinking this man her friend. Dorothy knew nothing of her Bubs, their friendship was built on an accidental meeting and unexpected run-ins.

The silence was shattered as she plunged the spoon and icing stick into the wound (she sterilised them first, of course) and Thomas' voice roared.

She could only wince in apology as his body instantly jerked away. She had no way of holding him down so she could only move back and forth with him and plunge the utensils in further.

After a horrible 2 minutes of digging around, the bullet was out and on the table.

She grabbed some thick string and a needle and sewed his wound. Thomas only reduced to grunts and the clenching of his fists at the numbing pain.

As she leant forward she cut the string off with her teeth, Thomas could smell her hair - she smelled of vanilla and sugar and rose water perfume.

Dorothy then thought back to the very little time she had spent with this man, she thought of the way he looked at her and answered her. There was nothing malicious in his face.

Dorothy just couldn't be scared of this man. She couldn't work out why, but she just couldn't.

She thought of all the innocent people he had probably killed and she empathised for them.

But that wasn't her Bubs. Her Bubs wasn't a man she knew, but a man she would like to know better.

She had never met Thomas Shelby and she hoped she never will.

The man in front of her was her Bubs.

Maybe this is one of the things people would call one of her flaws. She couldn't help but see someone's heart before their name, because people were not their looks or their family.

She refused to see him as Thomas Shelby because Thomas Shelby was a horrible man, but not her Bubs.

Dorothy repeated these words like a mantra in her head. You could say she was making excuses and maybe she was, but she didn't care. Not right now.

——

There was a long moment of silence after she handed him a bottle of Brandy, the same one she had bought that morning, well, he had.

She was staring at the ground, not saying anything.

"So..." she coughed, "Shelby, huh?"

Thomas for some reason ignored her question and instead answered with his own, "why did you help me?"

"Huh?"

"Why did you help me?" He repeated, "you know who I am, you can't possibly want me here, especially now that not only five minutes ago, I was bleeding all over your shop."

Dorothy only sighed, "I don't know." She furrowed her eyebrows, seemingly trying to come up with an answer of her own; "Friends help friends?" She stated more like a question rather than anything else.

"But I saw you, this morning. I saw the way you instantly recoiled at the sight of my men. Now you know they're my men, why are you still helping me?" He prodded further.

"They aren't your men. At least not to me they're not. They're Thomas Shelby's men. You're Bubs." Her answer didn't make sense. For a third time in their short companionship, Thomas thought she was daft, or worse.

She continued, "the man I've spent time with is not a gangster." That one hurt. "A ruthless man" ok I get it. "A killer." Low blow. But fair.

"The man I've spent time with is Bubs. I've been naïve to think I knew him, but I want to know more about Bubs. Not Thomas Shelby. Because Thomas Shelby is only a name with connotations wrapped around it. Thomas Shelby has become all of those things. But despite all that; Bubs is not Thomas Shelby." Her rambles, though not entirely coherent nor logical, seemed to be good enough for her when she nodded her head.

Thomas could only nod his head, supposing that was a reasonable answer.

"So what would you have done if I'd died? Eh?" He joked a bit, to lighten the air. Not a great way of doing it, but ok.

She only shrugged, giggling a bit, "I'd have made little cookies in the shape of monsters, to honour your reputation that you seem hell bent on keeping. Oh! and I'd make them with dark chocolate, because I know you like dark chocolate." She smiled a small smile, that only he could see.

He only scoffed jokingly, "you can't make a monster cookie to honour my name, Bonny."

"Of course I can! And what a mighty terrifying monster it would be! Buyers would tremble at the sight!" She shook her fist at the sky.

Thomas was silent for a moment, followed by the sound of roaring laughter. He laughed a laugh that he hadn't in a while.
Though she was mocking his reputation, he found her profound statements highly amusing.

And just like that, the previous events were forgotten. And in that moment, they were not Dorothy and Thomas. They were Bonny and Bubs.

And it was nice. And it was pleasant. And that's all they wanted it to be.

——

Oooohh that's a big leap! I tried my best to write their feelings in the most honest way possible, I hope it's alright.

Thank you so much for the support!
All feedback is welcome!
See ya next time!