Chapter Text
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"Helena, maybe we shouldn't. You know my parents, what if they catch us?", Florence Brock spoke in a hushed tone as she clung to her best friend and girlfriend Helena Bertinelli. They were hidden behind a bush in the large garden out the back of Brock estates.
"I don't care Florence, I love you and nobody can stop me from feeling this way.", Helena leaned in and kissed the girl in front of her, it was shy and clumsy but she really did have love for Florence.
"Hey, hey cut it out! I said just kissing!", Florence chuckled as her friend got handsy, they often hid away out here from the peering, judgmental eyes of Florence's homophobic parents.
"Miss Brock, your parents require your presence shortly for the annual Wayne luncheon.", Florence's closest family member was their butler Arthur Russo, he knew about her and Helena and was discreet and kind to the couple.
"Arthur we can't afford to dottle around any longer! Mother and Father want her dressed and ready to greet Mr.Wayne in ten minutes. She's probably off necking that cute neighbour boy again. Can't say I blame her, beats chumming around with old folks all day.", the shrill voice accompanying Arthur was Florence's sister, Julia. She hated Florence for being the favorite child, and she always attempted to sabotage her older sisters good intentions.
Helena and Florence each exchange horrified glances as Arthur tried to stall, by tending to the bushes and the now blooming plants on them. Julia talked his ear off berating Florence in the most verbose but condescending fashion. Florence hugged her friend, and whispered a plan to her, Helena protested, but after Florence shed tears and kissed her love one last time Helena begrudgingly agreed. Helena slunk around out of sight and walked up behind the pair searching for Florence, she lied and said Florence had come unto her, and that she was a lesbian. She admitted she was uncomfortable before expressing a last bit of love for the girl she had spent the better part of two years falling in love with. But Helena and Florence both knew she had more to lose than the daughter of the Brock family. Rising from the bushes she watched the Bertinelli girl leave. And there she stood, Arthur's sympathetic gaze warning Florence of the storm to come. Julia's face had a huge smug smile painted upon it.
"Oh my dear sister, imagine Mother and Father's distaste when they figure out their prized daughter is a filthy faggot. Tsk, and you could've dated that nice Elliot boy. He's going to be a surgeon you know.", Julia's voice dripped with disdain and triumph, she grabbed Florence's arm in a tight grasp, practically dragging her inside the manor.
The luncheon went quietly, Mercedes Pennyworth and Bryce Wayne came over yearly to discuss the joint ventures of Brock Incorporated and Wayne Technologies. The son of Martha and Thomas Wayne only had Mercedes to raise her after an unknown criminal gunned them down after a showing of Zorro ten years ago. But as Florence's parents chatted delightedly with the intelligent young woman and her impromptu guardian they occasionally threw disgusted glances their daughters way. During the meal Florence's brother Andrew detailed just how fucked the girl was, and how their parents would have no love for a queer. And soon the moment of reckoning came, Bryce and Ms.Pennyworth left quietly, the business end of the visit having been a resounding success. Then, Florence's parents dragged her into the parlor room, a room Florence once associated with entertainment and laughter. Now it was a courthouse, and everyone but her believed that she was truly guilty. Her father Craig was the first to speak, he was fuming, barely able to form coherent sentences.
"How long?! How long have you been fucking the neighbour girl?!", He poured himself a glass of whiskey with shaky hands, but his rage got the better of him and he hurled it in the direction of his once favorite daughter.
"T-two, t-two years dad, I've been seeing Helena for two years. Since I entered high-school, sir.", Florence knew to address her father as sir when he was pissed, but her tone betrayed her intent to be neutral. She felt no guilt and it showed.
"My sweet daughter, you could have been a promising engineer. We gave you everything, what happened with Thomas Elliot? Did he not satisfy your needs, why rely on such disgusting tactics?", Her mother janet was weeping in a large plush armchair in the corner of the room. Florence's stomach churned at the sight.
"I love her, and I don't feel ashamed ma'am. She smells of roses, and the scent after it rains. She baked me cakes on birthdays you forget, for me being your favorite you never once showed it. Your tough love tactics are just masked abuse, I hated being the favorite. It was torture, I'd rather be like Julia or Andrew, you loved them. Because I was smart you always treated me like shit!", Florence left her passive state of crossed arms, and a harsh whispering tone behind. She was pissed, and willing to spit venom in the faces of her cruel, snobbish parents.
"Leave, leave this home right now! You take nothing with you but the clothes on your back, you will NEVER be a part of the Brock family again. As far as I'm concerned Julia is my only daughter.", Craig was livid, practically spitting in his exe daughters face as he began to leave the room. The rest of the Brock family followed leaving Florence alone.
She left almost immediately, Arthur offering to at least give her a ride into the city. He had lied to say he was going to do groceries, and snuck Florence out. He dumped her near the entrance to Gotham Cities worst district, the narrows. A maze of abandoned industrial warehouse and strip clubs. It was a cesspool of human trafficking, drugs, and crime. The place was filthy, garbage piling up at every corner. Huge, glutinous rats and roaches scurrying about, tripping anyone not paying attention. Folks down on their luck milled about fighting one another for substances and food. Children scantily dressed entertaining strangers and leading them back to sleazy, unethical whorehouses. Nightfall came, and the only light in the Narrows came from trash can fires, and flashlights stolen from the nicer districts of the city. Nearest the docks, Florence shivered trying to stay as far away as possible from the scum that would likely rape or kill her if she interceded on her space. But someone still came by, and Florence was terrified. She looked around the abandoned shipping yards and found a old arizol can likely from one of the numerous rusting shipping containers. She also found a lighter stupidly abandoned in a pile of trash. As the man got closer, he sensed that Florence would run, and so he produced a knife. Not thinking, panic flooding her brain she prayed the can had anything in it, same for the lighter. And then she felt heat, a large fire emanated in front of her, scaring off the would be attacker. But she was not out of the clear just yet, a sleek black limo was passing by but stopped in front of Florence, and a woman stepped out. She was clad in a long black coat, a grey wool skirt poking out from beneath the jacket, and a precious fur wrapped around her neck. She approached the frightened girl, who at any moment was willing to burn anyone. The woman raised her hands in a placating gesture, urging Florence to drop her makeshift weapon. Defeated, cold, and at her breaking point she obliged.
"Hello dear, you seem lost, and might I add that weapon of yours won't stop the type of criminal roaming these infested streets. A gun works so much better.", The woman smirked, blowing pitch black hair from her round, perfectly contoured face. She then produced a gun from her pocket, but Florence didn't flinch, the woman's tone dripped with safety and warmth.
"I-I don't belong here, I have nowhere to go, a-and, a-and he was gonna hurt me. I did what I could. I'm just so scared, please don't hurt me.", Florence was tearing up and fell to her knees, she wanted to confide in this stranger, do anything to get into that limo and curl up on the leather seats inside and sleep forever.
"Oh honey, I don't want to hurt you, I want to recruit you. That ingenuity, that unflinching demeanour, you were gonna burn him to a crisp, I need that tenacity.", The mystery woman slunk towards Florence like she was a predatory bird and Florence her prey. When she got close enough she put away her gun, and with that same hand now freed she put her hand on Florence's chin. Raising her head up, she forced Florence to meet her gaze.
"R-recruit me, what do you mean? I-I'm not some street level whore, I-I'm not gonna join your filthy club.", Florence steeled her nerves despite her shaking, sore body telling her not to fight it. But she did, and she tried to stop crying to show how serious she was.
"No sweetie, nothing like that, I want you to kill for me. Get out that rage you undeniably have, I'm Sofia Falcone, and my father needs people like you. But since you did mention fucking, why don't you let me test your resolve darling. One night with me, you take that kinda torture, and I can promise you a life of infamy and riches.", Sofia pressed herself up against the quivering woman she planned to conquer. She gently kissed her, teasing her bottom lip with soft nibbles.
"I-I don't get it, how, how does this apply to murder? I'm scared, please s-stop, pl-", Florence was cut off, a low moan involuntarily escaping her chattering lips. And her brain just gave in and turned to static as the teasing, gentle kisses on her lips finally got to her. What Sofia meant could wait until morning. She just wanted out of the cold. So she wrapped her arms around the taller woman, showing her acceptance of her terms.
"Such a good girl, I knew you'd agree, now let's get you out of this cold. And into something much more comfortable", Sofia pulled away from her conquest, gripping Florence's hand in hers, leading her to the limousine.
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The ride in the limousine was silent, Sofia was purposefully neglecting Florence who was shaking in a mix of fear and arousal at the torture the older woman had threatened. Was she really going to allow her to hurt her, make her beg for it? She hadn't been on the streets for less than a few hours and she was already prostituting herself. It didn't help she looked slightly like Helena, the girl Florence would do anything to be in the arms of again. Her mind wasn't functioning logically, she was in a limousine with a stranger, a very attractive, seducing stranger. And she hadn't even had time to acknowledge the strangers proposition, an outlet for her rage and enough money to rival her shitty family. Was this Falcone woman a criminal, she had heard of her father, but never in a negative light. He was supposed to be kind, fatherly. As these thoughts passed through her head she watched the dingy streets of the Narrows be replaced with immaculate, well kept, beautifully green burrows on the upper half of the island. Soon the limo pulled to a stop, and Florence felt a lump in her throat form. What was this woman going to do to her? She didn't have to wait long for an answer. Florence was ushered out of the limousine by Sofia and ushered into a famous building known to Gothamites as the Clock Tower. It had once been used practically, but had been transformed into a penthouse and nightclub. The nightclub portion was closed Florence noticed as the pair rode the elevator up. The air was tense, Florence wanted to grab the gun in that woman's pocket and, well she didn't have any clue what she would do next. Was Florence really comfortable being a killer, she had been tempted not even a half hour ago. Shaken from her thoughts the doors of the elevator opened, and the girl had no time to admire the beauty of the place as she was whisked off into Sofia's bedroom.