Disclaimer: I don't own the characters; they belong to Maureen Jennings, Shaftesbury and the CBC.

Author's Note: These weren't actually intended to be this long but apparently, according to my plot bunny, when George Crabtree is exhausted and angry, he's got a lot to say!

The World Is Upside Down: "Hell to Pay," 10x18

He took a moment, just to look at her. Miss Bloom, he thought, watching her attempt to wrangle the curls he used to love running his fingers through, tucking behind her ear. George didn't know how he'd ended up at the Star Room; after everything the past few days, he was exhausted, and he thought his feet might have a mind of their own.

They must have. He found himself walking across the room, coming to a stop behind her. Nina's brown eyes caught his own in the mirror. Lydia's death and the events of the past days had taken their toll on the dancer-George could see a clever hand trying to hide it with rouge and blush, but her eyes…her eyes themselves matched his. Tired. Worried.

"I don't know anything. I told the detective and his wife all that I know." Nina sounded absolutely drained. "I can't help you." She continued brushing her hair, her eyes never leaving his in the mirror. "I would if I could."

George knew it. He knew how much Lydia meant to Nina. She knew how much Detective Murdoch meant to him. Though their own relationship was strained…Nina was fiercely loyal to those she loved. She would tell him if she knew anything.

He told her so. "I know," he whispered, unsure if he could trust his own voice at the moment. He sounded years older than he actually was.

The look she shot him was plain. Then what are you doing here, George Crabtree? "I think…I just wanted to see you," he admitted quietly. He hadn't seen her…not since the letter had arrived at the station. Not since she'd told him he deserved better than her. He wanted to ask her, couldn't count the number of times he'd wanted to come down and demand to know why she'd sent that letter. Now's not the time, George.

Her voice held a note of bitterness. "Well. Here I am," she said, setting the brush down, standing. She crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously-and there was something Nina Bloom never was. George closed his eyes, half in frustration, half in exhaustion. What he wouldn't give to take her in his arms right this second and fall asleep with her, if only to forget this insanity for a few precious moments.

"I'm so sorry. I never should have let you go," he burst out.

To his shock, Nina broke eye contact, and looked down at her feet. "You deserve better than me," she told him flatly.

It broke his heart. He didn't know what happened to the fiery burlesque dancer, the one who didn't care what people thought of her, who prided herself on not being what people expected. The world truly has turned upside down. This mistake is mine. I don't know what I did, but I need to rectify it. Everything I care about has been turned on its' head. If this is the only chance I get to take, then…

George gently tilted her chin so she was looking at him. Her eyes were wet with tears. "I'm only realizing now," he said sincerely, "that there is no better than you."

Whatever happens, I've said my piece now, he thought. Whatever happens…Fatigue overwhelmed him, and Nina drew him into a hug, their roles now reversed. "But I don't know what to do," he said, his voice breaking. "With the detective, and Doctor Ogden gone-"

She hugged him harder. God, I've missed this, George couldn't help but think, and unashamedly let her hold him. "You'll find them," Nina reassured him. "It's gonna be all right."

I don't know if anything will be all right, ever again, George wanted to tell her. He closed his eyes, resting his chin on the top of her head, stealing a few precious moments of normalcy.

"That's so touching."

The voice made the hair on the back of George's neck stand up, and he looked over Nina's head sharply to see Robert Graham come in, one of his lackeys behind him. His heart raced, every nerve in his body telling him to get the hell out of the room.

But he stood his ground. George moved Nina behind him, glared at Graham. "Get out of here." His voice dripped venom.

Graham was undeterred, moving closer to the two of them. "I would've thought you'd be out looking."

Absolutely. As soon as I know you're not having me followed again, George thought irritably.

"Or," Graham continued, "is it that you'd rather spend time with painted ladies-" here the developer's gaze turned to Nina, making George bristle, "-than look for your detective or his missing wife?"

George took a step forward, standing toe to toe with Graham. You don't scare me. "I said, get out." There was a note of a threat in his tone. He comes anywhere near Nina, badge be damned, he will get what he deserves.

Graham seemed to enjoy toying with him. "Strike me, and you'll end up in a cell, where you'll be even more useless than you currently are. But Constable, think about this. You are at a crossroads in your life. If you help me, you will have an unimpeded rise to the top. Your inspector's gone, your immediate superior is a murderer-"

George's eyes narrowed. He felt his fingers curling into a fist. Lying bastard.

"Things are looking up for Constable George Crabtree," Graham continued. "And all you have to do is look away."

George held his gaze. "I won't be doing that." I'll not look away until you're at the end of a noose, or in a cell.

"Sounds to me like you wish to add another item to your long list of mistakes." Graham sounded mildly disappointed.

George held his gaze. As if he actually thought I would do such a thing. It didn't work with Chief Constable Davis, and it sure as hell won't for you! I won't be bribed, nor intimidated, not by the likes of you. And if it is ever possible for me to atone for those 'mistakes' as you call them, and advance further than constable third class, it will be on my merit and not on your shoulders!

He said nothing, refusing to give Graham any satisfaction.

Graham turned his eyes to Nina again, giving her a long glance. George felt her squeeze his arm. "Enjoy your time with your whore," Graham tossed out as a parting shot.

George's feet did their own again, propelling him forward. His arm drew back, fingernails digging into his palm. Right now. For Lydia Hall, for Detective Murdoch and Dr. Ogden. You son of a-

"George, no." Nina's voice broke through the red haze in his vision, the blood pounding in his ears. His fingers loosened, just a little, as he watched Graham turn to go. Nina's voice was icy. "Don't worry, George," she said, loud enough for Graham to hear. "Nothing he says will bother me." It was a thinly veiled suggestion, George was sure, to calm down before he had an aneurysm, or did something he would regret. Except I don't think I would.

Graham gave him a smirk as he exited. He'd gotten under George's skin, and he knew it. Only when he left the room did George finally calm, feeling the muscles in his legs and arms relax. His heart still pounded in his ears.

Nina stepped out from behind him, threaded her arms around his waist. "The way you just stood up to him makes me so proud of you."

He couldn't accept the compliment. He sure didn't feel proud of his actions. I'm done lying down for him, for Davis. Next time, the only way he's getting out of the room is an eight-foot drop.