Chapter Twenty Five
"Even when my head was in that noose, all I could think about was you."

Arabella had decided to go with Ada to visit Polly. She'd seen the woman the other week when she was doing her own rounds of dropping Christmas presents off, but Arabella was constantly worrying about how she was doing, knowing that Polly took the prison time so much harder than everybody else.

However, after a quick visit to Arthur's, enduring the wonderful pleasantries of Linda, which then lead to them finding out about the Black Hand the Shelby's were all receiving, and then being tricked into going to Tommy Shelby's house, Arabella rather wished she hadn't come along.

"No," Arabella stated firmly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Absolutely not."

"Arabella," Ada sighed, knowing full well she'd tricked Arabella into coming by not mentioning the stop off at Tommy's house, but she just wanted the two to reconcile. "Please, he'll want to see you."

"Tell him I'll see him in hell."

Ada eventually gave in to Arabella's stubbornness. "Fine. I won't be long."

Ada was in fact lying about that, since she did take a long time, and Arabella was bored out of her mind – but then again, it was better than having to see Tommy fucking Shelby. When Ada did finally return, she informed Arabella of everything her and Tommy had discussed, which, to Arabella's distaste, meant finding out that they all had to go back to Watery Lane, even Arabella, to keep everybody safe. Ada tried to reinforce the narrative of Tommy still protecting her, but Arabella was having none of it. Apparently the "tell him I'll see him in hell" line went down quite well though.

"Okay." Ada turned to face Arabella as the car slowed to a stop outside Polly's house. "How much do I need to prepare myself?"

"A lot," she told her. "A hell of a fucking lot."

The two of them stepped out of the car with bags in each hand, carefully making their way towards the house. Ada stopped a few steps ahead, causing Arabella to almost crash into her. The two women exchanged uncertain looks, finding that the front door had been left wide open. They shared another wary glance before stepping inside, being met with loud shouts from within the house.

"Hello, Polly. Hello, Michael," Ada called out as they shuffled through the doorway. "Merry Christmas. The door was wide open."

Michael turned around, running a hand through his hair in exasperation, his eyes automatically locking with Arabella's.

"Fuck," Polly muttered, seeming to snap out of the daze she had been in. "I spent the whole day tidying up. I wanted it to be nice. I wanted it to look nice!"

"Why, Pol?" Ada asked gently, slowly approaching her. "It's only me and Arabella. It's okay, it's okay," she spoke softly, trying to soothe Polly's hysterics. "We can sit, sit and talk and put things back together. It's okay."

"I'll leave you two to it," Michael said, attempting to move past them, but Ada held her hand up.

"No, you stay," she instructed, and he stopped, gaze shifting to Arabella for answers, but she gave nothing away. "Now, listen, something's happened." Ada glanced between them both to address them. "Things have changed. Today everyone in the family received one of these." She picked up one of the many envelopes from the pile on Polly's table, holding it out towards her Aunt.

"What does it mean?"

"Tommy's called a family meeting," Ada said. "He wants you both to come."

Arabella placed her bag down on the table with a light thud. "I'll go make us all a cup of tea," she said, her voice breaking the silence that blanketed the room.

"I'll help," Michael offered, following after her into the kitchen before she could say no. He closed the door shut behind them as Arabella made her way towards the stove, not saying a word. "What is this?"

Arabella turned around to face him, frowning in confusion as she gestured towards the kettle on the stove, as if the answer was obvious. "Tea?"

"No," Michael sighed, stepping closer towards her. "I mean, I haven't seen you in months and you suddenly just turn up? On Christmas fucking eve?"

"Oh, sorry," she apologised flatly. "Inconvenient timing?"

Michael released a breath of exasperation as Arabella turned her back to him again, reaching into the cupboard for some clean mugs. "I just...I think we should talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," she told him, moving onto her tiptoes to reach onto the higher shelf. She strained slightly, unable to reach the mug. Michael noticed her difficulty and headed over, placing a hand on the small of her back as he reached for the mug with ease, setting it down on the counter with the others. Arabella turned around, the gap between them having been closed significantly. "Thanks."

They stared at each other as silence lapses between them both. Arabella thought Michael would move back, but he didn't. "Please, Arabella," he began again as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes, stifling the heavy sigh at her lips. "You belong in the business. With us. With me."

Arabella shook her head, attempting to move past him. "I don't."

Michael blocked her way past, trapping her between him and the counter. "Listen–"

"We've been over this, Michael," Arabella responded, growing exasperated with the amount of times they'd had this conversation, with it always ending in the same answer – that Arabella wanted nothing to do with Tommy Shelby anymore.

"Bells, this doesn't have to be about Tommy, okay? We work well together, it–"

"Jesus Christ, Michael, it's always about fucking Tommy!" She exclaimed, her words coming out louder and harsher than she had intended. Both her and Michael spared a glance towards the closed door, neither of them wanting Ada or Polly to hear the outburst from the other room, knowing it would be the last thing Polly needed. "Look," Arabella started again, lowering her voice. "I'm not having this fucking conversation with you again, all right? Tommy and I are done. It's been over a fucking year, Michael, when are you gonna get that?" She shook her head, her jaw tightening in frustration. "He sold me out, he sold all of us out, and we almost fucking died!" She whispered harshly. "I think about that morning on the gallows every single fucking day of my life, all right? I see it every time I go to bloody sleep, and that's all because of him. I want nothing to do with him, okay? Fucking nothing."

Michael swallowed thickly, their gazes meeting as they silently stared into each other's firm eyes, glances almost battling. "I think about it too," Michael said softly, voice almost quieter than Arabella's had been. "All the time. And every single day I was in that fucking cell, all I could think about was you. Even when my head was in that noose, all I could think about was you."

"It wasn't your fault I was in there," she reminded him, eyes softening with sincerity. "I never held that against you. Ever."

"It wasn't just because of that," he said, reaching for her hand. Arabella glanced down as his skin grazed against hers. "Look, I can't get you out of my head Arabella and it's driving me fucking mad."

"Th– then stop," Arabella finally managed to stutter out, grimacing at her word choices.

"I can't."

Arabella shook her head, her stomach tightening itself into knots. She removed her hand from his grip, attempting to move past him again. "It's not that bloody difficult, Michael."

"You were in my life every single fucking day and now you're not," Michael began again, catching her arm before she could leave. "And now I go fucking weeks without seeing you and I-I just can't do it anymore, I need you in my life, okay? I want you in my life."

"I'm not–" Arabella sighed heavily, shifting her glance away from him for a moment. "Look, I'm not part of that life anymore, Michael. All of that, the business, it's in the past now."

Michael met her eyes again, his gaze flickering down to her lips, before back up to her eyes again. "But that doesn't mean you can't be part of my life."

Arabella froze, and so did Michael, staring intently at one another as their shaky breaths filled the quiet room. "Michael–"

"Don't," Michael spoke quietly, taking another step towards her, closing the space between them. "Don't talk."

The next thing Arabella knew, Michael had pressed his lips to hers, stealing all of her words. Arabella's hands instantly moved, locking around his neck to pull him further down towards her, deepening the kiss.

Michael's rested his hands either side of her face, one of them trailing down to her hip as they backed up against the counter. His lips were soft, but felt firm against hers, sending electricity surging through her entire body.

Without warning, Michael lifted her off her feet, placing her down on top of the counter. Arabella breathed heavily, their lips detaching for the briefest of seconds before she had grabbed his tie, pulling him back towards her again. She slammed her mouth against his once more, her legs wrapping around his waist, hands tangling in his hair, the fervent kiss becoming deeper and deeper, and Arabella was slowly losing herself in the moment until a loud, unwelcome crash interrupted them.

Both of them jolted apart in an instant, startled by the sudden noise. Michael couldn't help but begin to smile as he noticed the smashed mug shattered to pieces on the floor, which Arabella had managed to knock from the counter.

"Arabella!" Ada called out from the other room. "Michael! Everything alright?"

"Fine!" They both shouted back unconvincingly, still trying to catch their breath.

Arabella cast a wide eyed glance over at Michael, hearing footsteps beginning to head their way. She quickly shoved Michael away from her, carefully lowering herself down from the counter, avoiding the smashed ceramics on the floor.

The door flung open without much warning, and both of them quickly snapped their heads over to Ada, who stood in the doorway. "What happened?" She asked, glancing between them in concern. Both of them seemed completely flustered, faces flushed pink, and eyes wide in surprise, as if they'd just been caught doing something they shouldn't have.

"I, uh, I dropped a mug," Arabella replied lamely, heart hammering heavily in her chest as she tried to disguise the fact her pulse was racing at a million miles per hour.

Ada frowned, eyes shifting to Michael's slightly dishevelled hair, the startled look on Arabella's face, and then the smashed mug on the floor. "Right," she eventually said, unconvinced by Arabella's response, but she didn't press it any further. "Well, do you want any help? You've been in here forever."

"We're fine, Ada," Michael assured her, stepping in as Arabella's jaw dropped slightly, panic completely freezing her mind from coming up with any sort of reasonable response. All she could think about was that Michael Gray had just kissed her in a way nobody ever had before, and she fucking liked it. "Thank you."

Ada glanced between them once more before turning and leaving through the door again, keeping it open by a small amount. The two of them stood quietly, listening until her footsteps were a far enough distance away before they turned back to face each other.

"What?" Arabella asked, noticing the way Michael was looking at her.

A playful grin pulled at his lips. "I can't believe I was just about to have sex with Arabella Newell in my mother's kitchen."

Arabella grabbed a tea towel, whacking Michael on the arm. "That was not what was about to happen!"

"Sure it wasn't," Michael laughed, moving past her to find something to clean up the smashed mug on the ground. He could feel Arabella's irritated glare before he even turned back around. "What?"

"You have to try much harder than that to get me into the bed, Michael Gray," Arabella said firmly.

"I'll see what I can do," he said as he strode past her, catching her eyes once more before he left the kitchen with a smug smile on his lips.

"Dammit."

A/N

It finally happened 👀

So excited to start building on their relationship. So not excited for what is about to happen to John in the next chapter...