Page 123 of Pansies

He headed back into the shop to give Fen the news. Found him half in the freezer, cleaning or something, bum waving prettily in the air.

It was hard not to get distracted, but Alfie made a valiant attempt. “So, I’ve got her running—”

“Oh my God, seriously?” Fen sat back on his heels. “That’s amazing.”

“Er, but only enough to get her to a garage.”

Fen slumped. “Shit.”

“Aye. Look, let’s go together. I mean, what’s he going to do? Refuse to serve us? That’s illegal.”

“He could do something awful to the van in vengeance.”

“It’s already bust.”

“He could charge me a gazillion pounds.”

“I’m pretty sure he couldn’t.”

“He could”—Fen glanced up at Alfie and, for a moment, he was just a pale-faced kid again, wild and wary—“be nasty to me.”

“Well, then I’ll fucking punch him. The bigoted bastard.”

“Oh, my knight in shining armour. That will definitely help.”

“There’s no need to be sarcastic.”

“There’s no need to punch people.”

Gothshelley stuck her head round the door to the workroom. “Noware you going to kiss with tongues?”

They both glared at her, and she retreated, cackling.

Fen slid sinuously to his feet. Tucked his thumbs into his pocket. “Let’s do this.”

“Kiss with tongues? I mean, I’m game, but shouldn’t—”

“The van.”

Alfie grinned.

“Very funny. But, seriously, don’t get in a fight. And if you pull any closet-y bullshit or suggest I wear a different colour jumper or straight-person jeans… I swear to God…I’ll…I’ll…”

Alfie dragged Fen into a hug. “I won’t. I promise. I’m never going to do that again.”

“Good. Because I can punch people too. I mean, I haven’t ever. But I’m sure I could figure it out.”

“It’s not rocket science.” He took Fen’s hand and gently curled it into a fist. “Keep your thumb on the outside and out of the way.” Traced his fingers lightly over Fen’s. “Use your knuckles, not the flats. And aim somewhere squishy—not the face like, cos you’ll probably just break your hand on their jaw.”

“Thank you, Alfie Bell,” said Fen dryly, “for the sexy lesson in violence.”

Alfie brought Fen’s still-clenched hand to his lips and kissed it. “Shall we go?”

After a moment, Fen nodded, and leaving the shop in what Alfie hoped were Gothshelley’s capable hands, they made their way to the garage.

“What are straight-person jeans?” asked Alfie, as he unlocked the van.

“Oh my God, are you kidding me?”

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