"So you don't just want me there as a sweetener?" Florence remarked, a mug of tea in her hands as stood in the Shelby kitchen, leaning against the sideboard as Tommy sat at the table.

"I want you there to ensure I don't blindly put my trust in a man from Camden Town," Tommy quipped, comforted by the sound of Daisy, Oliver and Charles playing in the next room with their cousin Karl, overseen by Isiah and Finn.

"A man who you've known for what, four years?" Florence replied, assuming that Tommy would have a better chance of judging the man's integrity.

"It can be hard to predict Alfie Solomons' moves, you've always been good at gaging people," Tommy told her.

"That's it, is it?" Florence raised her eyebrows, "You want me there for my people reading skills? Why not just ask Polly?"

"Because she's not you," Tommy answered and Florence's blood ran cold, they had shared fleeting kisses since their reconciliation at Tommy's gin distillery, but nothing more, they'd not even dared to discuss what existed between them.

"That's not a reason, Thomas," Florence smirked, placing her mug on the sideboard and folding her arms across her chest.

Tommy sighed heavily, standing up from the dining table and approaching her with a slight grin, resting his hands on her jaw before he slowly kissed her, the taste of tea was sweet on her lips, while the remnants of smoke lingered on his, he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, "Is that a good enough reason?"

"I'm not sure," She whispered, kissing him again, her hands intertwined at the back of his neck, until she pulled back again, "Seems good enough to me."

"Good," Tommy smiled, running his knuckles over her jaw, "Because there's no one I trust as much as you."

Florence remained quiet, and her silence didn't go unnoticed.

"What's the matter?" Tommy frowned, "Don't you trust me?"

"I do," Florence nodded, "Just perhaps not as much as I did before...well, everything went wrong."

"I thought we resolved that," Tommy stepped back, because he believed that he had dealt with it, that he had calmed Florence's doubts.

"Resolving it doesn't mean that I don't struggle with the concept of depending on you the way I once did," Florence admitted, "I may not need you the way I once did, but I want you as we are, I just need reassurance that you won't disappear at the first sign of trouble."

"What do you need me to do?" Tommy asked with complete integrity, because he knew how he had wronged her those years ago, the devastation he had caused her, the upheaval she had endured as a result of his actions.

"I want you to prove that you'll be there until the end," Florence answered honestly, "For Daisy, for me, for us."

"I promise you-"

"I don't want your promises, Tommy," Florence cut him off, because too many men in her life had failed to deliver on promises, "I want to see that you mean it, because we need stability."

"I'll do whatever it takes, Florence," Tommy assured her.

"I don't think I could survive losing you...again."

Florence's words stung, because Tommy knew that pain she had experienced the first time was of his making. The man he once was believed that he was protecting Florence by pushing her away, the man who now saw that she was resilient enough to hold her own, she didn't need him for protection, she wanted him for him.

"I don't intend on going anywhere," Tommy replied, "I'll take your lead."

"I thought Tommy Shelby made his own rules," Florence quipped.

"He does, but he also follows yours," Tommy told her, and before he could utter another word, a prolonged car horn interrupted their conversation, "That'll be him...Come on."

Tommy led Florence out of the house, the pair met with the sight of Alfie Solomons and two other men, Alfie's hand remained on the car horn until Tommy and Florence reached him. She was dressed as though she were still in London, her emerald green jacket covering her classy Bond Street clothes.

"Morning, Alfie," Tommy sighed.

"Yeah, it is, it is," Alfie nodded, "So, how come everybody's in fucking bed?"

"They heard you were coming and chose to take the day off, sweetheart," Florence quipped with a smirk.

"Who the fuck is this?" Alfie frowned as he glanced at the woman whose face was unfamiliar yet captivating to him.

"Florence Harrington," She answered, because that name still meant something, and she'd use that as leverage as long as she could.

"Now that does make sense," Alfie chuckled, "Oh, he told me all about you, when I first met him he wouldn't stop going on about you."

"Is that right?" Florence raised her eyebrows in intrigue, glancing between Tommy and Alfie.

"So, this must be Goliath," Tommy gestured to the young yet impressively tall man who stood beside Alfie in an attempt to divert the topic of conversation, "Right, let me introduce you to David, this way, boys."

"The problem, right, between rum and gin, yeah, is that gin, it leads to melancholy," Alfie told the group as they entered Tommy's gin distillery, "Whereas rum incites violence, it also allows you to be liberated from your self doubt, I hear you're probably more in need of the old rum at the moment, rather than gin, mate."

"Well, you've not tried this gin, Mr Solomons," Florence quipped.

"I like this one," Alfie chuckled before being distracted by the sounds of birds in the roof above, "Oh, dear, brother, you've got fucking starlings, that shit will rot your pipework, those bastards only understand one language," He added as he cocked his gun.

"It's alright, Alfie, there's no need," Tommy was quick to stop the man from firing his gun, "aim getting a kestrel."

"I hear that you've got Italians, mate," Alfie remarked as he lowered his gun, "You got a kestrel for them an' all?"

"Yes," Tommy nodded, glancing at Florence, "I have a kestrel for them as well."

"Well, everything is confirmed, innit?" Alfie replied, "Weakness behind the eyes, didn't blink too much, you smell of smoke and coal and horses, you're back where you belong," He glanced between Tommy and Florence, "Where both of you belong, it seems."

"London was a holiday," Florence quipped, "Birmingham is home."

"You've got to ask yourself, seriously, did I even want to piss and shit indoors?" Alfie told the pair, and Florence still wasn't entirely sure why Tommy had requested her presence at this small meeting, "Or was I actually born that I were to defecate in fields and the outhouses, it's a serious issue, Tommy, 'cause your people, your class and my religion is quite similar actually, you cannot wash it out, because come out of your mother's tits."

"What have you heard, Alfie?" Tommy asked before the conversation could go down a path Tommy wasn't sure he could retrieve it from.

"I heard a copper got shot," Alfie remarked, "Who shot him?"

"My kestrel."

"I'll up the stakes, very good," Alfie nodded.

"Where are the Sicilians?" Tommy asked, lighting himself a cigarette.

"They're still using Sabini for vehicles and for places to stay," Alfie replied.

"And reinforcements?"

"They're Sicilians, they don't trust nobody, not even their own blood," Alfie turned his attention to Florence who appeared bewildered by his apparent knowledge of her blood ties to the Changrettas, "Yeah, I heard about that, proper fucking Romeo and Juliet, the pair of you, eh?"

"How many are here?"

"Eleven," Alfie told him, "Enough to drop a man who wrapped his balls in an OBE till they fell off."

"Well, the real question is, which side are you playing for, Alfie?" Tommy asked.

"What kind of world is it to bring up children when your own mate can ask you that question, hey?" Alfie remarked, "But the truth is, you're going to be fucking dead soon, and then your starlings, they'll peck out your blue eyes, won't they, and the jackdaws will steal your gold and your medals, and it'll be as if you never existed."

"His medals are at the bottom of the canal," Florence replied.

"And where do you keep yours?" Alfie asked.

"I ain't got any," Florence sighed, "Not sure the likes of me get medals, not for what I do," She pulled back her coat to reveal her gun sitting in its holster.

"My, my, he landed on firm ground with you, didn't he?" Alfie chuckled, bemused that Tommy had found a woman who was as immune to the darkness of the world they inhabited.

"Tommy, there are men approaching," Finn entered the room sheepishly.

"Yeah, let 'em pass," Tommy nodded before turning his attention to Alfie, "Right, you tell Darby Sabini from me, if the Italians win, they don't plan on leaving, after me, it'll be him, then you, then the Titanic."

"They're the fucking Mafia," Florence added, "They've come here, they're amazed our coppers are unarmed, they've come here and they like what they see, they're here to fucking stay, unless we do something about it."

"Mr Shelby?" Abarama Gold called out as he strolled into the room, "We've come to talk purse for the fight."

"Your kestrel?" Alfie looked between Tommy and Florence, "Tommy, when a pikey walks in with hair like that, you've got to ask yourself, 'Have I made a mistake?'"

"Who the fuck are you?" Abarama frowned with clenched fists.

"Who the fuck am I?" Alfie retorted, "I, my friend am the uncle, the protector and the promoter of that fucking thing right there, in whose shadow nothing good nor godly will ever fucking grow, that there is the Southern Counties Welterweight Champion, he's of mixed religion? therefore he is godless, any man you put before him, it'd be like entering a fucking threshing machine, mate. Now will you offer your son?"

Abarama remained silent, but Bonnie Gold, filled with confidence and a fire to win, spoke up, "Name the date, Mr Shelby."

A few hours had passed, Tommy and Florence remained seated among the crates of gin, each nursing a glass of the sweet liquid, alone in each other's company.

"I have a matter to attend to," Tommy sighed as he glanced down at his watch, "You're best off returning to the children."

"What matter is that?" Florence asked, concerned by the change in his disposition.

Tommy hesitated, not wishing to burden her with the truth of what that day entailed, yet he knew truthfully that he would regret it if he wasn't honest with her, because he knew it could very well be the last they saw of each other.

"I'm going to visit Michael at the hospital, give him one last chance to tell me the truth," Tommy told her, turning so that they faced each other, "Polly made a deal with Changretta, she gave me up for Michael."

"No," Florence shook her head, "No, I won't let you do that."

"Florence," Tommy attempted to calm her, "Florence, I need you to listen to me."

"If I come with you, maybe it'll put an end to this, he won't kill me, we both know that," Florence insisted.

"I'm not putting you in danger like that, Florence," Tommy told her, knowing how stubborn she could be, "It's not a risk worth taking."

"So, that's it?" Florence quipped, "Are you taking any men with you? Soldiers, Thomas, you need fucking soldiers."

Tommy's silence told Florence everything she needed to hear as she rested her head in her hands, despairing at the thought of losing him to her father, despite how hard she had urged the flame she burned for him to burn out.

"Look at me," Tommy soothed, cupping her face, his piercing blue eyes set on her dark gaze, "If anything happens to me-"

"Please don't, Tommy," Florence whispered, not baring to have that conversation.

"If anything happens, I want you to look after Charles, he should be with his sister." Tommy told her, his thumbs running back and forth over her cheeks, "And when she's old enough to understand, you tell her that every bad thing I did was to make this bad world a good place for her."

"And if you make it?" Florence whispered.

"That's up to you."

"When, not if, you win this war, there'll be something for you to come back to, or rather, someone," Florence replied, praying to whoever was listening that the hope of a true reunion with her might keep him alive.

Tommy kissed her softly, a loving goodbye and a final taste of her, hoping it wouldn't be his last, before he pulled back, letting his forehead rest against hers as he whispered, "The prospect of a life without you in it terrifies me far more than those Italians."

"I thought I could do this without you, in fact, I think I forced myself to believe that all those years ago," Florence muttered as she took Tommy's hands in hers.

She admitted to herself that it felt quick, as though she had rushed from Elijah to Tommy. But her marriage to Elijah had wilted some years ago, in fact it might have been a marriage that facilitated love to grow, she just didn't believe that she had ever been what one would call 'in love' with him. Yet when she looked at Tommy, she was twenty two again, a fire burning in her heart, butterflies tumbling around in her stomach, that was the kind of feeling that made her feel alive.

"When all of this is over, we'll be a proper family, the way it always should've been," Tommy assured her, "You, me and the children."

Florence smiled, a bittersweet smile as tears pooled in her eyes, hearing the words she had longed to hear from that man since she fell pregnant with Daisy, "You promise, this time?"

"I promise," Tommy whispered, kissing her knuckles, "I'll make us safe."

It was probable that the silence would've driven Florence mad if it weren't for the company of the children. Had she been alone awaiting Tommy's return, she would've spiralled in the company of nothing but the sound of her racing heartbeat.

Hours had passed since Tommy's departure and those hours had a tendency to feel as long as days, even with the distraction of the three young children who sat on the floor in front of her. She feared the worst, despite knowing that Tommy was capable of making it out alive, she feared the prospect of having to tell Charles that his father wasn't coming home, of telling Daisy that she'd never see her newfound best friend again.

"Mummy," Oliver approached his mother as she sat in the armchair, "Where's my daddy?"

It pained her everytime Oliver asked that question, because he adored his father, and she hated that her return to Birmingham had torn him from his father. There were moments when she wondered if he'd be better off with Elijah, but then she remembered that she didn't know where Elijah was, she hadn't known what he was really capable of, she had lived a life without a father, and she would argue it didn't hinder her character.

"Daddy's gone away, my sweet boy," Florence pulled the little boy onto her lap as she watched Florence and Charles play with Finn's old trainset together, "He's very busy with work."

"When will we see him?" Oliver asked as he rested his head against his mother's chest while she cradled him.

"I don't know, my love," Florence whispered, kissing the top of his head, "But I know that wherever he is, he loves you and Daisy so much."

"And he loves you," Oliver looked up at his mother with a comforting innocence in his eyes.

"Why don't you join Daisy and Charles, eh?" Florence muttered just as Polly entered the room.

"Okay," He nodded, climbing off of her lap, while Polly sat in the spare armchair, Polly who had revealed the true nature of her plan the minute she crossed the threshold to be met with dozens of questions from Florence.

"Any news?" Florence whispered as Polly sat beside her, a look of hesitance on her face, "I thought he'd be home by now."

"No news is good news in this instance, love," Polly assured her, "If he were...Well we'd know, wouldn't we?"

"I don't know what I'll do if I were to lose him," Florence told her as she toyed with the hem of her skirt, "I've only just got him back, and yet I face the prospect of losing him once again."

"I remember when you were a little girl, you'd sit at that window while your mother and I talked, you'd wait hours for the boys to return from wherever they'd been causing trouble," Polly smiled fondly, "You adored them all, but there was always a little glimmer of something else in your eyes when you looked at Tommy."

"I miss those days, before the war, before life became so..." Florence sighed.

"We're soaring above the clouds of smog where we once resided now, darling," Polly replied, wondering what her best friend would think of the whole affair if she were still alive, "Your mother always said you and Tommy would find your way to each other eventually, and I make her right."

At the sound of the front door opening, Florence's gaze darted across the room, watching as the door slowly opened, and in walked a familiar figure, filling Florence with a weight of relief as a smile rose upon her face.

"You came home," She whispered as Tommy closed the door, seeming as though he was carrying a heavy weight across the threshold.

"Tommy!" Daisy exclaimed as she jumped up from the floor, Charles close behind as they greeted their father, each hugging his legs like a bear might hug a tree.

"Hello," Tommy squeezed both of their hands before looking up at Polly, the burden that he carried was evident, a burden to heavy to unpack in the presence of children.

"Daisy, why don't we show Oliver and Charles where we keep the cake?" Polly smiled, holding her hand out to the little girl as she stood up from the armchair.

"Come on, boys," Daisy gestured to her two brothers, taking Polly's hand as they headed into the next room.

"Did you get him?" Florence whispered as she stood up and Tommy simply shook his head, taking a cigarette from his pocket and placing it between his lips as he took a seat in the armchair.

Florence made her way over to the sideboard, pouring a glass of whiskey and drinking it with ease before she looked back at Tommy who's gaze was fixed on the trainset that the children had spent the afternoon busying themselves with. His lighter sat in his hand, and his gaze was hollow, Florence couldn't be sure if it were shock or frustration, but her mind was still haunted by what might have happened if Tommy hadn't made it out alive.

She approached Tommy, taking his lighter from his hand before lighting his cigarette for him, "What happened?"

"I killed three of the fuckers," Tommy sighed as he took a drag of his cigarette, "Then I headbutted one of Moss' men."

"I remember the first time you headbutted a police officer, I think that was the day I knew there could never be anyone else for me," Florence replied as she stood in front of him, "You had me from the day you stuck two fingers up at the establishment."

Tommy's gaze was blank but his intentions weren't, he took Florence's hand in his, interlocking their fingers before guiding her to sit on the arm of the chair, her legs resting against his.

"What'll you tell Arthur?" Florence asked, knowing that the eldest Shelby brother would no doubt be angered that he wasn't privy to the plan to take out the Changrettas.

"The truth."

"And what'll you tell me, about what's inside your head?" She asked, holding onto his hand.

"The truth," Tommy looked up at her, "In time."

"I think we need to tell Daisy the truth," Florence told him, "In a way that makes sense to a six year old."

"Is that what you want?" Tommy asked.

"I want for her to know what you are to her, I want for you to be the person she thinks of as her protector, to be the man who loves her unconditionally," Florence told him.

"Then we'll tell her," Tommy squeezed her hand as Florence turned her gaze to the window at the sound of a car pulling up on the street, met with the sight of Arthur, Finn and Linda.

"They're here."

The family convened in the dining room, while the children returned to the front room. Lizzie, George and Vinnie had since arrived, being valued members of the company.

"So, what the fuck happened today, Tom?" Arthur huffed, emptying the contents of the small blue bottle onto the table before snorting it with ease, while Florence, who was sitting beside George glanced over at Tommy with a look of concern, "We all heard, shooting in Artillery Square."

"Yeah, there was," Tommy nodded as he leant against the sideboard, "Today I killed three men, now our enemies are down to eight."

"I suppose they, er, suppose they took you by surprise, did they?" Arthur replied, while Polly and Florence shared a look of concern, knowing how the eldest brother may react to the truth.

"No, I knew they were coming," Tommy told him.

"Just after Christmas, I received a letter from Luca Changretta, offering to spare my son if I gave up Tommy and I gave Tommy up," Polly explained to those in the room who had been none the wiser.

"Because that was the plan that Polly and I agreed on," Tommy added, "I knew that Luca would want to pull the trigger himself, so I used the setup as bait to bring him here."

"You're a fucking idiot, Tom," Arthur scoffed, sniffing up more opium.

"Look, I didn't get Luca but I got three, alright? That's it, that's what happened," Tommy told them, looking over his shoulder at the sound of gentle footsteps to see Daisy with a tentative smile on her face as he crouched in front of her, "Come here, you," He picked her up, his daughter, who remained none the wiser about her true identity.

"Ah, but he's right," Johnny Dogs sighed as Florence smiled at the sight of Tommy holding Daisy on his hip as though it were second nature, "I thought you'd gone soft, Tom, so you got three?"

"Yeah, I got three," Tommy nodded.

"Well, I'll drink to you, Tom," Charlie raised his glass, "You mad bastard."

Arthur approached his brother, glancing at his niece who was the spitting image of her grandmother, before returning his attention to Tommy, "Pretty soon you'll...You're going to get the shakes when your blood cools down, let's go and get a drink."

"You got three what?" Daisy looked up at Tommy with an innocent grin.

"I got three shillings for a two shilling horse, my girl," Tommy told her, matching her smile.

"Why don't we see about that drink?" Arthur looked between Tommy, Finn, Vinnie and George.

Tommy glanced at Daisy and then Florence, "You boys go ahead."

"Very well," Arthur nodded as the rest of the men followed him out of the room.

"Polly," Tommy turned to the woman beside him.

"Lizzie, Linda and I'll watch Oliver and Charles," Polly answered before Tommy could even ask the question, knowing what was to come.

"Thank you, Pol," Florence smiled as the three women left the room, Lizzie closing the door behind herself.

"Let's have a seat, eh, Daisy," Tommy placed her on one of the spare chairs before taking a seat beside Florence, who he promptly turned his attention to, "You're sure about this?"

"I am," Florence nodded, glancing at her daughter, "Daisy, there's something Tommy and I want to talk to you about."

"Okay," Daisy smiled innocently.

Florence wasn't sure how best to navigate the topic of conversation, she just knew that she needed to think of a child-friendly way to explain the unique situation.

"Do you remember how I always tell you that you're the luckiest girl in London, because your Nana Imelda went to heaven early, so you'd have a special angel watching over you and keeping you safe?" Florence asked the young girl as Tommy watched on in intrigue, his heart warmed by the efforts Florence had gone to in order to protect Daisy from the harsh truths of the world.

"Yes," Daisy nodded.

"Well, you're an extra lucky girl, because you've got two dads, so there'll always be someone here loving you and looking out for you," Florence explained as her heart began to race, wondering how the little girl might react, "Because a girl as wonderful as you deserve all the love the world can give you."

"I have two dads?"

Florence didn't want to over complicate the situation, and she didn't want to taint Daisy's memories of the six years Elijah had been her father, she was safe in the knowledge that some time in the future Daisy would ask the questions when the time was right.

"You have your dad, Elijah, who's been there since you were born," Florence glanced down at her hands as she exhaled heavily, "And you have Tommy, and he was there when you were a tiny baby, but he had to spend some years doing important work to keep us safe, but he's back now."

"Tommy's my dad?" Daisy looked at him with delight in her eyes.

"He is, lovely girl," Florence smiled, "You don't have to call him dad, but you can if you want, alright?"

"Okay," Daisy grinned, "Can I find Ollie and Charlie now?"

"Of course you can, sweet girl," Florence nodded as she watched Daisy climb down from her chair.

The little girl ran towards her mother, wrapping her arms around her before turning to Tommy and hugging him too, "Can we see the horses together one day?"

"We can see the horses everyday," Tommy smiled down at his daughter before she hurried out of the room as Florence poured herself a glass of whiskey.

"Well," Florence sighed as she took a gulp of the gold liquid, "That went as well as it could've done."

"She's a smart girl," Tommy nodded.

"She gets that from you," Florence smiled, "Her temper too."

"Her temper?"

"She's a proper little Shelby when she doesn't get her own way," Florence sighed with a fond smile, "Speaking of which, I should get her home and fed before she has one of those tantrums."

Tommy caught Florence's hand in his as she stood up, "When will I see you?"

Florence ran her hand over his jaw as she stood over him while he remained seated as she whispered, "I'll find you."

It didn't take Florence long to make her back to Tommy. Once Daisy and Oliver had been safely tucked up in bed, with their uncle Vinnie in the kitchen downstairs, Florence had slipped out into the night, making her way to the Shelby company offices. She wrapped her fur trim coat around her body, the cool evening breeze dusting over her legs before she entered the safe haven of Tommy's office.

Lizzie and the other members of staff had returned home for the night, but the light in Tommy's own office told her what she already knew, he was working late, distracting himself from the impending shock of the day's events that would come once the adrenaline had worn off.

She opened the door and Tommy looked over his shoulder from where he was pouring himself a glass of whiskey, and from the simple nod she gave him he proceeded to pour one for her.

"You shouldn't be walking the streets alone this late," Tommy told her.

"I'm not alone, I'm with you," Florence smirked as he approached her.

"So you are."

"What a day it's been," Florence sighed as she sat in one of the seats beside the grand oak table as Tommy handed her the glass and sat opposite her, their knees touching, "Let's make a toast."

"A toast to what?"

"A three shilling killing," Florence smirked as she clinked her expensive crystal glass against his, swallowing the measure of whiskey in one go.

"I'll drink to that," Tommy sighed, drinking his whiskey and placing the glass on the table.

"I could've lost you today," Florence whispered, choosing to tackle the topic of the day's events as she gazed down at her hands as they rested in her lap.

"But you didn't," Tommy reminded her.

"I'm not sure what I would've done if it had been a policeman who walked through that door instead of you," Florence told him, "Not when I've spent years wondering if I'd ever see you again."

"I thought you said-"

"I said a lot of things, Thomas, out of anger, spite, resentment," She paused, looking up at him with hope in her eyes, "But also out of love."

"Love?"

"The things we love most are the things that destroy us when we lose them, and losing you destroyed me, because I lost you when I needed you most," Florence told him, her heart bared for the both of them to see, "I didn't stop loving you when I lost you, I didn't stop loving you when I couldn't forgive you."

Tommy listened to her words intently as his heart quickened, as though nothing had changed in the six years they had been apart. No one knew him the way she did, no one could talk him down the way she could, no one had ever stayed as long as she had.

"I understand that it was never as simple as that for you, that loving me wasn't something you could bring yourself to do," Florence whispered, "But it was never a choice for me."

"Loving you has never been the problem, Flo," Tommy assured her as her heart thumped at his tender words, that he had inadvertently admitted how he truly felt, "The idea of losing you is what plagues my nightmares, pulls me from my sleep, but i don't want to fight it any longer."

"Fight what?"

"I will love you as long as there is breath in my lungs and a heart that beats in my chest," He admitted, his voice soft as his pooling blue eyes stared back at her.

Florence took Tommy's hand in hers and placed it over her heart, allowing him to feel the way her heart beat for him, "It's always like that with you, it always has been, and I hope it always will be."

Without a word, Tommy used his foot to pull her chair closer to his, his hands landing on her cheeks as their lips collided. Despite the kisses they had shared since their reconciliation, it was as though something new had been unleashed between them. Tommy's hands threaded through her hair as Florence's tongue ran across his bottom lip as she let her hands wander over his shoulders.

She wasted no time in standing up, pulling Tommy up to meet her by the fabric of his waistcoat as they continued to kiss in a state of passionate disarray. A fire burned between them, akin to throwing a lit match of a pool of gasoline, Tommy's cold skin became hot under Florence's touch, her delicate warm skin on her hands that wandered his body, that blindly unbuttoned his waistcoat, discarding it on the floor somewhere.

Tommy guided her back towards the table, his hands gripping her thighs as he sat her on the edge of the table, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip as she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, a need and a want to be as close to him as physicality would allow.

"I'm yours," Florence muttered breathlessly against his mouth as Tommy's hands ran along the side of her thighs, "I have only ever been yours."

"I don't need or want anyone else, just you," Tommy told her as she plyed kisses to his neck as he pulled her underwear from her body, tucking the fabric into the pocket of his trousers.

"I need you," Florence hummed against his skin as she gently tugged on his earlobe with her teeth, "Now."

Tommy wasted no time unbuckling his belt and discarding it before Florence unbuttoned his trousers. Once he was free of any restraint he pulled her towards the edge of the table, burying himself inside her as her head rested against his shoulder, relief flowing through her body.

His hands found her thighs as she wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her even closer, their bodies writhing with pleasure with every thrust, every touch, every breath. Sweat laced their skin as Florence's lips met Tommy's again, their bodies melting together just as they did six years ago, as though no time had passed between them.

But they were different, they may have been the same people but Tommy wasn't afraid to admit that what he felt for Florence was love. While Florence wasn't afraid to admit that she didn't need Tommy for protection, she needed him because she wanted him.

That night, for the first time in six years, Tommy Shelby's world felt peacefully quiet.

author's note: we're back and so are flotommy!

thank you for bearing with me! i've been busy busy and i wanted to make sure this chapter was done properly before publishing as it's quite a big one!

love and hugs to you all! <3