I've been working on Chapter 12 of Partners In Crime for ages now, but I can't seem to get into it, so I thought I'd put up another Klash oneshot. This does tie in with Partners in Crime- and includes references to Kelly and Flash's conversation in hospital and the Black Jaguar, but I suppose it could stand alone and still make sense if you haven't read that.

Please note that I have deliberately written this with some degree of cockney slang/grammar etc, to try and make it sound authentic as it is from Flash's point of view.
I just love writing Flash. :D It's fun to play around with his mind.

Hope you like.

I pull my jacket tighter around my shoulders as I step outta my car, tossing my keys with frozen fingers to a bunch of orange-clad girls and kicking myself as they miss and land in the snow. Trust the one day I have to work late this week to be the bleedin' coldest of the year. Least if Milla's in a good mood there might be a scotch or two in it for me to take the chill off. I step through into my workshop, greeted right away by the usual mob. JJ's chattin' in the corner- always on the phone, that one. From what I can make out, she's making a deal with some TV bozos. I'm dead jealous of the fur coat what she's got on- it ain't no warmer in here than out there, and I think my brain's freezing over. The chavs dump a massive box of designer bras in front of me, and for a minute I'm nearly dumb enough to sign for 'em without looking at what it is I'm taking off their hands.

I shake my head, rubbing my hands together and trying to ignore the fact that my feet have gone to sleep. Get ya act together, Flash!

'Naw, girls, I can't sell products what I don't believe in, an'…hey?' I look round the room again, realising summat. 'Where's the firs' years?'

They're always here by now, handing me stuff with grubby little hands and tryin' to attach dangerous whatnots to my car.

'Upstarirs' cleanin' up deir explosion in the chem rooms,' Taylor says, her mouth thick with bubblegum, what she pops a couple o' times for good measure. It's been six months since I took the gig here, and I still ain't used to that noise- I don't think I ever will be.

'Aw, yeah,' she adds, poppin' again, 'Meredith wants ter see ya an' all.' Aw, hell, it gets worse. That bloody gum's bad enough, without another daunting confrontation with the Head Girl. Never have I been exposed to nothing so terrifying- no, scratch that. The image of the boss's face flashes through my mind, the shadows on the back wall starting to morph themselves into the shape of a jaguar, a black jaguar…

I shake my head and blink once, twice. I gotta get over this Black Jaguar thing, it's been six months. I got outta there alive; I've got a new life, a job at St T's, and I'm safe…

We find everyone, Harry…

I clench my teeth and my fists and force the thought away. I ain't Harry now, I'm Flash- Flash like me dad who ain't never been caught by no authorities nor mafia nor anything in between, Flash like his dad, who swaggered up to this school in his teddy boy suit in the '50s, bringing the girls their gear. Flash like the whole mob of Flashes, even when I promised meself I never would when I was a boy. Might be the only safe place for me now, though, so here I am, under the clucky good graces of Camilla Fritton, who was only too thrilled to have a new Flash to carry on the tradition. Under the bloody thumb of a bunch of schoolgirls, cleverer and more dangerous than they look- and that's an accomplishment, believe me! And what's more, under the rule of the Head Girl.

Meredith Lopez- scary woman if ever I met one. Part Spanish, part Dutch, part summat else, she's all curves and olive skin and visible stocking tops- all what try to throw 'emselves at me every time I enter the room. She ain't got no shame- and it ain't sugary like when them Posh Totties flirt with me- she's a dark temptress. If the maths department don't gimme the cash for the bets they make- and that, I've learned in my months here, is more often than not- I don't even wanna go get it. 'Cause goin' to get it means askin' her to have a word with 'em, and askin' her means getting too close to those huge lips and huge eyes and black lacy suspenders.

I realise I'm sitting here not saying nothing like a dope, and Taylor's cocking her head to one side, squinting her eyes at me as she waits for me to say summat.

'Uh…wha' for?' Better to play it safe- if I can get outta this, I'll damn well try.

'I 'unno,' the chav shrugs and fiddles with her gold hoop earring. 'Some junk abou' da new Trinski deals.'

I dunno what'll make me shudder more- having to be in the same room as Meredith or having to be in the same room as the Trinski. Vodka of death, that stuff- last time I tested out a new batch I woke up in the infirmary a day later. I ain't touched it since, except to hold the bottles up to the light and try and check if it's…well, drinkable. Nope, I'd still sooner the Trinski than Meredith.

I sigh and move through the parting crowd of girls, ambling and dawdling my way into the building and towards the main staircase. Dad had laughed my problem off.

'Son,' he'd said, 'consider yerself lucky after wot ya bin through wif dose Black Jaguar mugs. Anyways, who knows? Could be fate- us Flash Harrys always end up wif a Head Girl from St T's.'

Not exactly what I wanted to hear. Yeah, all right, I wouldn't mind falling for a St Trinian's girl one day- some of 'em are dead gorgeous- but please, please don't make me end up with Meredith. Every time I hear that Spanish accent I feel like I wanna chuck up- not that I got nothing against the Spaniards, mind, it's just…her. Dad's always going on about this love junk- about how one day I'll fall for some Trinian temptress so hard I'll never be able to look back. I've never believed him; not me, not ever. I'm not that kinda bloke, when all truth be told. I'm the sorta guy what swings about with his mates, knocking a few back, chattin' up a few girls bit never getting; anywhere- or I was, anyhow, before the Black Jaguar. Once I got meself tangled up in that, that was it for me- I had to sever all contact with my mates, come back out here to the countryside(ish) and start anew. Looking back, it'd probably have been safer to leave the country, but gettin' to the airport woulda been a tough act to pull off. One of the goons woulda noticed me for certain, and that'd be the end of me.

The halls are empty at this time o'night, the girls either out dealin' stuff or kickin' up a ruckus in their dorm. I find meself longing for a gang of first years- cute little terrorists who can injure me and get me outta having to make the trip to the Head Girl's room. They might be more dangerous in terms of blowing stuff up, but first years never shamelessly flirt nor try and sell ya horrible designer undies and sanitary product s and whatnot. If I had me own way I'd only do business with them. Well, them and maybe Taylor and JJ, 'cause neither of 'em are interested in me either.

I find myself leaning on the banister at the foot of the stairs, staring at the wall. I'd just stay like this all night if I could get away with it, but as well as a huge flirtatious streak Meredith's got a killer of a temper and I know for a fact that if I miss this meeting there'll be hell to pay on my next visit. Nothing for it- I'd better get this over with as soon as possible. Sighing and shaking my head I look at my feet and begin my ascent of the stairs.

I'm still looking at 'em as the urgent clicking of heels sounds from somewhere on the second floor- someone's obviously late to summat. I'm still looking at 'em as I hear the skittering sound- whoever it is is trippin' now- these numpties'll never learn running down the stairs in stilettos is dangerous. And I'm still looking at 'em when I hear the heel snap, and whoever it is goes toppling, so I ain't proper prepared when the girl slams into me, causing me to lose my footing. The world goes by in a painful rush as I tumble back, doing an involuntary backward roll and landing in a heap at the foot of the stairs. I gather myself for a minute, dazed and wondering who just nearly killed me. If it's a geek or Totty they're liable to start apologisin' and help me up- first years or chavs'll roar with laughter and I'll become the brunt of their humour for years to come. Emos'll just ignore me.

'Well, you handled that smoothly.'

None of the above; a clear, authoritative voice with just a hint of minxishness rings around my ears. I ain't never heard it before- she sounds so self-assured I wonder for a sec if it's a teacher. Naw, teachers in this place ain't full of authority like that, they're cowards, mostly. That is, without doubt, the best voice I ever heard, and I raise my head slowly, a weird dizzy sensation filling me up what I somehow know ain't got nothing to do with the fall I just took.

All's I can do for a minute is stare. The girl's righted herself and leans casually against the banister, managing to look elegant and sophisticated and saucy all at once, even with one shoe mangled and broken. As my brain starts to kick in again I realise she must be that new girl what came a few days back, what the other girls have all been talking about this week, on account of she fit right in, fell for none o' their pranks, already got the first years to do what she says and seems born for the place. Sixteen, she is from what I've picked up, but she looks a lot more mature. Only done her uniform up simply, she has, but it's so much more effective than the slapper look going round the place. Knee-length pencil skirt frames her hips and legs, covering a lot more than most of the girls but looking far sexier for it, hair short and sleek and even around her chin, just the right amount of makeup to set off her features without crossing the line into 'tart'.

I see my hat's fallen off during the course of my embarrassing tumble; it now sits at a jaunty angle on her head, and she smiles a wickedly cheeky smile at me, eyes flashing and tongue behind her lower teeth.

'You gonna get up, or are you happy just sitting there on the floor?' She's still got that smile. She adjusts the brim of my hat slightly as she waits for my reply, and I'm taken by the sudden desire to know what devious thoughts are running through her mind at this moment. She looks amused by my struggle to pull together a proper sentence.

'Well?'

'I…er, um…my…' since when was I ever at a loss for words? Me? I've always been a smooth talker, slick words and promises flowin' effortless off my tongue whenever I want. What's bloody wrong with me now?

She takes a graceful step down the stairs and I find I'm rushing to pick myself off the ground- don't wanna look like a great dope in front o' this girl, even though chances are I already do.

'Uh…hi…' I try to smile. Oh, very nice, Harry. Is that really the best I can come up with to say to this stunning girl?

She takes another two steps towards me- she seems to love it that I feel so awkward, and extends a hand.

'Kelly Jones.'

I take it and shake it, tryin' to remember when my hand got so sweaty.

'Hash…er, Flarry…er Flash, Flash Harry,' I stutter, and she chuckles at my flounderin' brain.

'The Flash Harry? Flash Harry, the effortlessly suave spiv who's a master at selling illicit wares, can talk himself out of anything and has already broken the hearts of half the sixth formers?' That sounds like a quoting voice if ever I heard one.

'Is tha' wha's goin' round abou' me?' I've just put my foot in it again, my mouth ain't workin' with my brain. I wanted to agree to what she'd just said and let her think I were summat fantastic.

She cocks one eyebrow. 'And yet who can't even make it up a flight of stairs without losing his balance, it would seem.'

Damn that voice and that smirk. She keeps makin' me speechless, so she does. I try to defend myself.

'Yeah? Well you wasn't so balanced yerself, was ya? It was your clodhoppers in those bloody killer shoes what knocked me down in the first place…' yes, that's it! I'm back on form, actually coming closer to matchin' her level of taunt. '…so if anyone ain't got no sense o' balance, Miss Kelly Jones, that'd be you.'

She ain't taken aback or nothing by my comeback- if anything she looks…approving, impressed that I were able to make a sentence, let alone a comeback. I have this feeling my fightin' back's just raised me up a bit in her opinion, and for some weird reason, 'cause I've only just met her, I want that more than anything.

'It doesn't count if you're in a rush to get to the first years,' she tells me, 'you can't waste time when they're unsupervised in the chemistry lab- every second counts.'

'And yet,' I echo her, 'ya di'n mind wastin' time to talk to me…' I see her eyebrows shoot up again and I smile, '…or to nick my 'at.'

She don't reply to my wasting time comment, but lifts my hat off slowly. I think for a sec she's gonna give it to me and hold out my hand, only to have her push it down over my head herself. Her face is really close to mine now, I'm lost a bit in those mysterious-lookin' dark eyes as she fiddles around with it. My breath's gotten stuck somewhere between my throat and my gob, and it don't come out 'til she's released me.

'There. Well, then,' she gives me one more smirk before slinking past me and down the hall, 'nice to meet you, Flash Harry.' I stare after her as she glides off, walking perfectly despite her broken shoe, slow and purposeful as it time'll wait for her. I can't help meself but watch.

'Oh, and Flash?' she pauses but she don't look back, and I wonder if she knows I were still gazing at her.

'Yeah?' my mouth's a bit dry.

'You'd better get up to the Head Girl's room. The Spanish Vampire's looking for you.'

The Spanish Vampire, eh? Nifty little name, that. Meredith to a T. I like this Kelly Jones. I like her a lot. Now that's my kinda girl.

As soon as I think this the dizzy feeling comes back, and I have to stagger and sit down on the stairs. I've gone weak at the knees. Am I just thinking what I think I'm just thinking? Come on, Flash, pull yaself together. Snap out of it. This ain't a drill.

I can't snap out of it, though, whatever it is. Her authority, her wit, her mischievous smirk, that air of brilliance she got, all these things flit around me head. It's like she were designed to impress- she don't even have to try. Bloody brilliant, that's what she is.

I wanna get to know her. I wanna get inside that brain of hers, watch the cunning plots she's prob'ly got stashed in there work through her mind. I wanna sit all day and try to match wits with her, and I wanna plan something devious with her and maybe help her cause havoc at the school.

And I wanna make her smile like that at me again.

Without planning to, I'm doing just what I promised meself long ago I'd never do. I didn't think I was that kinda bloke- the sorta guy who'd fall like a hopeless git for some girl. But I have.

I've fallen head over heels- literally, down a flight of stairs, for Kelly Jones.

Bloody hell, I can never tell Dad about this. I'd never hear the end of it. I'd get the I-told-you-so lecture for the rest o' me life.

It's only once I can't see any trace of Kelly Jones, can no longer hear the click of her shoes in the distance that the rest o' my mind comes back to me and I remember I'm supposed to be having a business meeting with Meredith.

The Spanish Vampire, I hear Kelly's voice say, and I can't wipe the grin off my face. I've got summat to hope for now; the ole Spanish Vampire don't scare me no more. At this moment, even the Black Jaguar itself is a distant, outta-sight-outta-mind fear.

I can't help thinking business is gonna be a lot better when Kelly's Head Girl. Ain't got no doubt she will be; she's the kinda girl who just has to look at ya and you'll sit up and take notice and do whatever she tells you.

Just listen to me. I've only spoken to her for about ten minutes, tops, and already I sound like some lovesick idiot. Can't help it, though. There's just summat about Kelly Jones.

Weird though, innit, how love comes in the form of someone pushin' ya down the stairs…