A Simple Request

Disclaimer: Although I own quite a vivid imagination, sadly I do not own Abberline. If I did, he would still be alive...albeit locked in my bedroom.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Where was Godley that night when Abberline met Mary Kelly outside the Ten Bells? Takes place right after the policeman brings in the box with the kidney.

Feedback: is always welcome. You can write to me at beckyg19@yahoo.com, or simply leave a review.

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When the box with its gruesome contents had been taken away, Abberline looked at Godley. "I need you to do something for me."

Godley just nodded, even though such blind unquestioning obedience had gotten him into a lot of trouble before. But when the Inspector asked for something, Godley always said yes.

He couldn't help it. It was a strange thing, the friendship he shared with Abberline. They did not go to the pub and have a few drinks. They had not gone to the theater in over two years, not since Victoria's death. They did not share secrets or even talk much outside of work. But Abberline was Godley's closest friend, and he would have unhesitatingly laid down his life for the man, if anyone had ever asked him to.

"What is it?" he asked. Already he had been told to arrest the Nichols Street gang, and he was eager to be on his way and finish that bit of business.

"I need you to wait outside the Ten Bells tonight," Abberline said. He had been looking down at the letters and postcards stacked on his desk, all of them supposedly written by Jack the Ripper. Now he fixed Godley with a firm stare. "I need you to tell me what you see. And who you see doing it."

"Surveillance work?" Godley frowned. He would never dream of saying no to his friend and superior, but this was rather beneath him.

"I'm going to see Mary," Abberline said. His dark eyes challenged Godley to say something.

Godley bit down hard on his cheek to keep silent. A rose by any other name? Is that it? Shame curled within him. "Red-haired Jezebel" had been among the kindest things he had said about Mary Kelly just half an hour ago. When it was really not his place to pass judgment on Abberline's choice of companions. Hell, he ought to be congratulating the man instead, and be thankful that Abberline was showing some interest in women again after all the long months of grieving for Victoria.

So why couldn't he shake the feeling that this was going to end badly?

"Why?" he asked. "What could she possibly have to say that she hasn't already said to you?"

Something flared in Abberline's eyes, and Godley tensed, suddenly aware that he had just crossed a very fine line. The Inspector had quite a temper, and although Abberline had never turned that anger on him, Godley thought that might just happen today.

"I want her off the streets," Abberline said in a voice that brooked no arguments. And he was not just talking about tonight, Godley knew. He meant for all time. He had fallen for Mary, and fallen hard, and it would not do for an Inspector at the Yard to become associated with an unfortunate. It would not do at all.

Immediately Godley was ashamed of himself. Abberline didn't care about things like reputation. That was not the reason he wanted Mary off the streets. He wanted her safe because he cared for her, and because he was a good man.

"So you go talk to her while I lurk in a dark alley across the street?" Godley asked. "It's hardly what I'd call subtle."

"See if we're being followed," Abberline said. "Either one of us. It does no good for her to get a room somewhere if they know where she is." He cocked his head slightly to one side, the sure sign that he was irritated and trying to get his point across without resorting to name-calling.

Godley took a deep breath. It was such a simple request, what Abberline wanted. But he couldn't do it. He just couldn't. He didn't trust Mary Kelly, or her friends. He did not want to see Abberline spend any more time with her, or become more involved than he already was. Enough was enough.

"No," he said. He kept his chin up, but he couldn't look Abberline in the eye. "I won't do it. Sir."

"Are you refusing a direct order, Sergeant?" Abberline asked in the low voice that usually meant he was one step away from exploding.

Godley steeled himself. "Yes sir, I am."

Abberline said nothing to this, and Godley finally risked looking at him. To his surprise, the Inspector was not angry. There was only a quiet resolution on his face. It was the same expression he had worn when Godley had challenged him about his decision to invade Special Branch.

"Very well," Abberline said. "I will expect a full report from you in the morning."

He had just been dismissed, but Godley hesitated. He knew there was nothing on this earth he could say that would dissuade his friend, but he felt he had to try. "Frederick, please."

"Sergeant Godley," Abberline said, "I asked you to arrest the Nichols Street gang."

Godley nodded. He hoped he had not damaged their friendship irreparably today, but he could not regret what he had said. He had only done what he had felt was right.

He turned to leave. He would get Withers to come with him, and one or two others. The boys on Nichols Street would hardly go quietly. He found himself hoping he would get to bust a few heads. He could use the diversion.

Just as he was about to pass through the doorway, Abberline said, "I have to do it, Peter. You do understand that."

Godley stopped. He did not turn around. "I do," he said. "I just hope you know what you're doing."

He left the office.

****

Later, when it was all over – truly over – and he was burying the best friend he had ever known, he wondered if Abberline had hated him for that moment of disobedience. He hoped Abberline had understood that he had tried to atone for it in the alley, on the night he had defied Sir Warren's command to wash away the words chalked on the wall.

He hoped Abberline had forgiven him.

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