The sound of Florence's boots echoed through the quiet streets as she bounded along quickly, not wanting to be out in the cold for longer than she needed to be. She wrapped her coat around herself tightly before tucking loose strands of hair behind her ears and turning down a side street. The deathly quiet made her feel uncomfortable, like something was about to happen – Florence had a difficult time of it over the past few years, which put her on edge a lot. She was positive, however, that it wasn't comparable to what the men that were waking up to the new day in the houses surrounding her were experiencing.

The war had been tough on everyone. Luckily, her father wasn't fit to fight but that didn't mean his business wasn't affected. She regretted leaving him alone during the war, having stayed in London to assist with the war effort, but she couldn't face going back to Birmingham after what had happened. The last time she had walked these streets she was sixteen, an innocent and bashful girl, she left a year before the war began. It had been six years, and now at twenty-two she definitely wasn't the girl she used to be. Unrecognisable as the woman she had grown into, Florence preferred it that way. She swiftly turned down a side street heading towards her father's house, excited to finally be reunited with the first man she ever loved.

Little did Florence know, one of the early risers of Small Heath was watching from a window as she rushed from one end of the street to the other. Thomas Shelby recognised Flo Fenton immediately – anyone who was familiar with her would know that wild auburn hair from a mile off. He hadn't seen the woman since before the war, and wasn't expecting to see her any time soon. He made a mental note to stop by at The Garrison later that morning and reintroduce himself.

Miss Fenton reminded him of his childhood; she had grown up playing in the street with his younger brother and sister, and she had spent many evenings and rainy days in the house with the two of them causing trouble. Tommy had a feeling she would go wild, growing up without a mother-figure to guide her, and he was right when she started to run rings around Harry, sneaking out of the house all hours of the night and making him sick with worry. As she grew into a young woman, he advised his younger brother and sister against spending time with her. The slight fifteen-year-old had tried to seduce him on multiple occasions, despite their seven-year age difference, though he wasn't having any of it out of pity for Harry. He didn't want John to be misled though – the teenager would fuck anything that was ready and willing. And now here she was, a grown woman, no doubt back to cause more trouble than she was worth.

The man sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. "Fuckin' women", he scoffed, before heading downstairs.

Harry was shocked to see his daughter waiting outside the doors of The Garrison when he went to open up that morning. Last time he saw her was a year ago when the war ended, and he thought she was making a life for herself in London. He had worried about her a lot, being a young single girl in the big city on her own, but he knew she was a tough girl who had been through a lot; she wouldn't let anyone step on her toes.

When she saw her father approaching, Florence beamed up at him, dropping her bags to the floor and rushing to greet him.

"Hello, Dad. Thought I would surprise you." She exclaimed, before the two embraced in the street. His daughter may have been his biggest worry but she was also Harry's pride and joy, and he loved her so.

Chuckling, Harry held her face in his hands, observing her closely. "You're a nightmare, you know that, Flo? A bloody nightmare."

Harry let go of her and picked up her bags, leading her inside the pub. "It's nice to see you too, Dad!" She shouted from behind him.

"So, how long you planning on staying, love?" He questioned his daughter as he dropped her bags down behind the bar.

Flo took a deep breath. "I'm back, Dad. I think I'm ready to come back for good.", she nodded, her hazel eyes wide as she smiled at him.

Harry shook his head at his daughter, not only in admiration but also with fear. His little Flo had been through so much in her life already, and to see so much hope in the beautiful young woman standing before him struck him – he knew deep down that she would never be truly ready to come home to the life she had left behind.

"Are you sure about this, Flo? Have you really thought about it?"

"'Course I have, Dad. My time's run its course in London, there's nothing left for me there. I've got a good feeling about this," she sighed, glancing around the pub, "Thought I could come and help you out here for a while, till I find myself a job. Maybe stay in the flat above the pub? I know it's been empty for a while now, I'm used to living on my own and I wouldn't want to invade on you and Lucy."

"Okay, Flo, but we'll have to speak to the Shelby's about it first, alri-"

Flo rolled her eyes at the mention of the Shelbys. "It's fine, I can deal with the fucking Shelby's myself."

Flo spent the rest of the morning in the pub with her Dad, restocking the bar and cleaning up for when it opened at eleven. She worked quietly alongside Harry; the two didn't have much to say to each other. Harry had been kept informed of her situation through the many letters they had exchanged over the years and he knew her well enough to know not to ask her too many questions. In her time away from Birmingham Flo had become a very private girl, and he respected that. After a couple of hours of preparing for opening, Flo was the one to go ahead and unbolt the doors. She silently hoped that too many of the customers wouldn't recognise her – from working in the war office in London she knew that a large proportion of Small Heath's soldiers and former regulars at The Garrison had been killed in action, however there were a few survivors that she didn't feel like being confronted with while she was still settling in.

After unbolting the doors, she took a few minutes in the back room behind the bar. Having been on her own for so long, Flo had gotten used to having a lot of time to herself and it would take some getting used to being back in the bustle of a well-socialised community. Pondering over this thought and trying not to let her mind drift to darker places, she pulled the pins from her hair and let her auburn curls fall, running her fingers through them absentmindedly. Taking the piece of cloth tied around her wrist she pulled her hair back messily behind her head, before grabbing an apron from the hook behind the door and tying it around her waist. She took a deep breath before opening the entering the bar.

There she was confronted with a familiar face through a cloud of smoke, along with a bustling pub, the workers coming for their first drink of the day. Business had really picked up since the war had ended.

Flo locked eyes with the man sitting in front of the bar, recognising the piercing blue from her time as a teenager in Small Heath, but something behind them had changed. They were cold and emotionless; Tommy Shelby had witnessed things she could never imagine.

"Miss Fenton, I wasn't expecting you." The low, gruff voice of the man in front of her greeted her.

Flo took a step towards him from behind the bar, her head held high and unwavering. "I would say that I wasn't really expecting you either, Mr Shelby, but it looks like times haven't changed 'round here since I've been gone."

She was expecting a reaction of some sort, a laugh maybe, but she watched him inhale his cigarette deeply, his eyes unresponsive.

"Times have definitely changed." There was something in his voice, maybe he was threatening her, but that didn't stop Flo from sliding her hand across the bar and taking his box of cigarettes from in front of him, helping herself. Taking a match from behind the bar, she lit it swiftly and didn't hesitate in removing her apron and walking around the bar to occupy the seat next to him.

"You look different, Flo. London changed you, has it?"

"Something like that."

Tommy turned to look at her, his eyes raking over her quickly. She definitely looked different to when he last knew her, with her wide hips and her face that looked as if it she come upon hard times in the years she had been away.

"How many kids you got?" Flo was taken aback by his abrupt question.

"Fuck off, Tommy. I haven't got any. And I don't see how that's any of your business anyway."

"How long you planning on staying here, then?"

"However long I want. Again, I don't see how that's any of your business."

Flo was fast becoming irritated by his questioning, so she was glad when the door opened and another man she recognised entered the pub. Finishing her cigarette, Flo moved to greet him.

"Freddie Thorne. You bastard." She said with a smile, not forgetting about Tommy lingering behind her. The smile was reciprocated as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he swung her around, a grin present on his face.

"Little Florence Fenton. Where've you been hiding?" He placed her down, looking her up and down like Tommy did except she caught Freddie's wandering eyes. "Well, not so little anymore, are you, girl?"

"Bloody charming as usual." She shook her head at the man, before moving to continue her work behind the bar, leaving the two men to talk. Flo tried to catch Tommy's eye as she turned but still got that unresponsive gaze.

After assisting her Dad for a few hours, Harry let Flo take a break before the evening rush started. She took advantage of this to refamiliarize herself with the streets of Small Heath and to pick some food up from the market; she realised she hadn't eaten since the previous evening. Pacing the cracked pavements confidently, Flo was a sight for sore eyes and she knew it. In her bottle green dress clinging to her figure and complimenting her auburn locks, she knew that she would turn heads. In a place like London she would often try to hide herself, aware that there were men stalking the streets searching for the likes of her, but in a place like this Flo felt safe. She knew that even after all these years the Peaky Blinders would still have a soft spot for her; they would keep her safe.

Flo giggled as she weaved in and out of the children playing barefoot in the street, her basket filled with food in one hand and a cigarette in the other as she headed back to The Garrison to relieve her father. She stopped in her tracks when she heard that voice she was once so familiar with call out to her.

"Flo?"

Flo looked up, her smile dropping as she saw John Shelby on the pavement in front of her, his older brother Arthur not far behind. She didn't bother to respond as she turned swiftly on her heel and began walking briskly in the other direction, but she knew that he was following her. Flo and John had history, and she knew it was a history he had never let go of. She, on the other hand, had moved on a long time ago. She had to, to stop herself from going mad.

As she turned down a side street she felt a hand grab her wrist, pinning her against the wall in one quick motion.

"Flo, what are you doing? I just want to talk to you. It's been fucking years. " His eyes bore into hers without shame, and she could feel his breath against her face. Unlike Tommy, his eyes hadn't changed so much. Flo noted that there was a sadness there, but there was still a cheeky glint somewhere. Not all was lost.

She shook her head at the man, shaking his hands from her and giving him a light push to the shoulders. "John, there's nothing to talk about. Leave me alone." She responded, her tone seething.

He didn't need to be told twice by the woman he once so admired, releasing her from his grip and watching her walk away. He joined his brother again, defeated, but Arthur just smirked at him and let out a low chuckle. "You used to fuck her, didn't you? Going back for more?"

John could only look at him in disgust and shake his head. "Fuck you, man." He turned, leaving Arthur to walk on his own.

"Oi, John-Boy! Where the fuck do you think you're going? We've got business to attend to..." The last thing John wanted to think about now was business.