Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author Note: Part five of the 'To Live Is To Drown' series. Title is a lyric from 'You Start The Fire', a WWE-created Bret Hart tribute song.
WATCHING THE FLAMES BURN HIGH
CHAPTER ONE
The first Hobbs knew of it was when Miss Hart tucked a fold of paper into her skirts without discussing the paper's contents with Captain Jackson. Hobbs wondered if it was some bill that Jackson would disapprove of, though that seemed so unlikely considering Jackson's character and desires. Miss Susan caught Hobbs looking and only managed a sick-looking smile before clients began arriving.
Hobbs spent most of his time based at Miss Hart's now, out of uniform, listening and helping all he could, at Miss Hart's and on the streets beyond. Inspector Reid himself had ordered Hobbs' new beat, believing that in the current rupturing and increasingly uncertain times, much could be gained from Hobbs' presence outside H Division. Hobbs had dug up a lot of useful information, though was nagged by the suspicion that the Inspector also liked a member of his team present on Miss Hart's property for leverage. Miss Hart seemed pleased by his presence though, especially now that he was no longer in uniform. He liked making Miss Hart smile.
The way she frowned over the accounting books gave him pause though and perhaps, perhaps that paper had been a bill of some sort, an expense she had not expected? It would explain her tightness of expression, very few things caused Miss Hart such distress, except for difficulties in keeping her house open and her girls working. There was little Hobbs could do about it though, he could not increase his monthly payments to her and she did not ask that of him.
He worried though, because Jackson had been looking distracted lately and Inspector Reid was still most devastated by his wife's disgrace and now Miss Hart was pulling more armour about herself. Hobbs felt adrift, unable to help as much as he desired to. It was like drowning all over again.
"Duggan," Ruth whispered to him one afternoon. "I saw Miss Susan's papers once. It's him that owns these walls. He might as well own all of us."
Duggan was not a pleasant name. Hobbs knew of him and his greed, of how much he liked power over his tenants and attractive women in his debt. Yes, it made too much sense for him to be at the root of Miss Hart's worries. Did Jackson know of them? It would explain his distracted air.
Captain Jackson and Miss Hart stood as husband and wife, a long-standing arrangement that allowed them distance from some elements of the world, though it was unlikely to dissuade Mr Duggan from approaching Miss Hart disrespectfully. Truly the arrangement did not hurt Hobbs, because he shared Jackson's bed and Miss Hart never lied to him, he knew her well enough to be sure of that. He was glad to live with them both.
So one morning, when Jackson had been roused early by Inspector Reid and had kissed Hobbs with an extra curl of heat and desire that had caused Hobbs to moan as they parted, Hobbs made his way down to Miss Hart's drawing room. She was wearing green and pink and looked very fine with feathers in her hair. She was pouring tea and filled a cup for him without a word. Hobbs carefully grasped the china with a nod of thanks and sat down in silence, the steam from the cup warming his face. Miss Hart did not ask why he was there or demand that he leave, rather she continued to work at her desk, pausing to drink her tea and sit with eyes closed, as though gathering strength for what might next walk through her door.
She must be lonely, Hobbs thought, not for the first time. She was surrounded by girls who worked hard for her and she and the Captain often argued, for their history together was rich with conflict, and now there were these silent money troubles which she was evidently endeavouring to shoulder alone. It was a miracle sometimes that she was able to see a day through with an unbowed head.
Hobbs couldn't deliver her from such difficulties, aside from occupying Captain Jackson elsewhere to cease their argumnts for a time, but he could do this, sit at her side and listen if she had words that she wished to spill. He could drink tea and soak in the silence with her, perhaps allowing her to realise that she was not alone. She had Captain Jackson and she had Hobbs and if there was a dire situation, then Inspector Reid would help too.
When he glanced upwards, Hobbs saw the slight smile on Miss Hart's face as she cast a look his way. It was a better expression than many she had worn lately, it was almost appreciative in fact, so Hobbs counted himself victorious. Yes, he could do this, and he would, as often as work allowed it. He raised his cup slightly, as though in a toast. Miss Hart's expression appeared perhaps less shadowed than before. Silence reigned.