A/N: I don't typically write Klash. Flash Harry wasn't very well developed in my opinion and that makes it difficult but he has an awful lot of potential. That said, here's to you Klash fans. eannm13, you requested this ship so this is for you.


People always ask her 'why'. They always say something along the lines of 'Kelly, you could do better, surely' and they ask her why she doesn't and her answer is never the same.

The first time somebody asks, it's Polly and whilst Polly isn't normally one to judge relationships of any kind, as Kelly's closest and oldest friend, she feels the need to voice it. It's both heart-warming and shocking.

"Look, Kelly... You know that in most circumstances I would just leave you to it except this Flash Harry and I have to ask you, with complete sincerity, have you gone absolutely mad?" Polly says and Kelly blinks, baffled for a moment by the bluntness, then she smiles and lifts her glass up to her lips and takes a leisurely sip of the whiskey. She spends a moment enjoying the burn in her throat and the pleasant warmth spreading through her before she smiles over at her friend who sits in the exact same position as a full minute ago, staring intently across at the ex-Head Girl.

"No, Polly. I'm not mad," Kelly states and Polly sighs, rolling her eyes.

"Then why are you with him? The spiv of all people?" She questions and Kelly grins across at her, her eyes shining as she lifts her glass again.

"He makes me laugh," She says before she takes another drink and Polly sighs before nodding her acceptance and she tucks a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

"You're still bonkers, Kelly."

"Of course, Polly."

And then more people begin to ask because within an hour it's spread from Polly to all the previous tribe leaders, then their closest friends who are, naturally, the current tribe leaders which of course means all of St Trinian's knows and all of a sudden Kelly is having her phone and email bombarded with 'WTF's and 'WHY?!'s and just about every kind of exclamation of disbelief possible.

True to form, she merely finds it highly amusing and feels rather proud that so many people have gone through the trouble of tracking down her number which was meant to be untraceable. They're St Trinian's though so 'untraceable' actually means 'takes a few minutes to find'.

And so, with some of her closest friends questioning her sanity, she responds, one by one to each message with a different answer, all of them equally true.

To Annabelle, she says 'he's surprisingly charming once you get to know him'. To Andrea, she writes 'oh God no, he isn't blackmailing me, Andrea but thanks for offering to gut him all the same. He's actually just a good listener'. To Taylor it's 'as it turns out, that Chinese restaurant wasn't the only thing that was handsome' which is especially corny but she thinks that Taylor will appreciate that and probably laugh about it. The 'lol' she gets in return is confirmation enough. For Chelsea and the other Totties, she responds to them in the 'Posh Totty code' with 'back-biting ants' which, for anyone who knows of the dressing room incident with Thwaites and where his trousers were gives something of a good indication as to what she's implying. She is rewarded with an influx of texted giggles and she can't help but roll her eyes. The Tottys really are too easy to please. And as for the twins, her favourite first years, she's quick to assure them that Flash 'isn't nearly as greasy as he acts and that kerosene and C4 aren't, in any way, necessary'. The response she gets is both disappointed and acceptant, concluded with 'but if he hurts you, Kel, just let us know and we'll handle him'. It's both sweet and a tad concerning.

It takes Kelly a week of using up almost all her free time after work in order to respond to all the messages.

And no two are the same, though it'd be easier to write one generic one and send that out to all of them, because there's a vase on her desk beside her computer holding a bouquet of her favourite wildflowers and that vase is never empty.

He always brings her fresh ones whenever there's even the slightest hint of wilting.

He's a romantic at heart though he never lets anybody but Kelly see it.

And she supposes that if she had to give a single reason, it'd be just how disarmingly sweet he can be. How he'll wake her with a kiss and coffee, both just how she likes them, and how he's learnt to cook because sometimes she gets back from work so late and so tired that she's just too exhausted to cook. And so he cooks for her on those busy days and sometimes just because and he fumbles over recipes but he tries all the same. He always ensures she has a meal waiting and a glass of red wine (or whiskey on particularly stressful days) and there's always flowers and kisses and warm embraces for her whenever she needs them.

And he always speaks to her like he can't believe she's with him, like he's thinking the same as everybody else; 'Why?'.

And when he's stood there, smiling at her goofily in a daft looking 'kiss the chef' apron and telling her he's got them a dog and that she 'shouldn't freak out 'cuz it's a girl and she's a gem; a downright sweetheart in fact', whilst everyone else is asking 'why?', all she can think is to step up him and place a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Because 'why' has a million answers. A better question would be... 'why not?'

And so she smiles. And he grins back at her.

Why not... when it feels this good?


A/N: So yes, something short and fluffy I wrote whilst feeling inspired. Reviews are appreciated.