Learning | Jacob Frye x Reader |

Assumptions

Evie continued to pace back and forth, stumbling slightly as the train occasionally jolted. Jacob stood in one spot, tapping his cane continually against the ground, keeping his eyes fixed at his shoes. 

"It's just absolutely out of the question (Y/N)" Evie finally exasperated.

"But it would provide us with vital information, not to mention saving many other people from hurt" I respond. I scan Evie's face for any sign of softening her stance. I was unsuccessful. 

"You would be giving in to their demands, giving them exactly what they want"

"Which would result in the resolution of this case!" I conclude. Evie grunts, and turns to her desk in frustration. Jacob stops his restless tapping. 

"While I agree with you Evie, that playing into to Corener's game is dangerous for (Y/N), it does mean that we can learn about what they are planning to do in America, and we can stop whatever they are planning to do" he pleads. Evie looks towards me and back to Jacob. 

"Even if you were to go, you would need someone else to be in America with you on the outside in case something were to put you in imminent danger" 

"It would make it easier to get information back to you and headquarters"

"And secure your safety" Evie adds. I roll my eyes and nod. 

"Yes that too"

"I already have a few people who could form a plan around you going into Corener's restraint, and maybe get a man in working with Corener to correspond letters and information" 

We spent the next hour deciding that I would be accidentally apprehended by Corener's men the following week. Evie already knew man working closely with Corener undercover, would could send my information back to Evie and keep an eye on my safety from an outside view. Evie left to go talk to some leaders, planning to inform them on my mission. 

"So you're going home then?" Jacob said, looking out the window. Although he is talking to me, I couldn't imagine being more distant.

"In a way, I suppose. I never thought that I would be going home again like this" I say, walking towards the next exit door. Besides the faint sound on the trains collision with the tracks, the sound of my own footsteps echoed the train. 

"Where are you going? We don't have anymore work for tonight"

"Contrary to popular belief, or at least yours, I do know some people, whom I happen to have plans with" I say, not looking at him once. I hear him scoff.

"Whatever, it's not like we had any plans" he says, as I hear him walking away. As the train begins to slow to a stop, I hear his footsteps stop before they cease to be heard.

"Her name is Victoria" he almost whispers. My eyes widen. I turn my head towards him and smile.

"Good for you Jacob, you deserve some fun" 

Before giving him a chance to respond, I step off the train at Charing Cross Station and walk onto the near empty platform. As I walk out of the station, I review my conversation with Jacob. It's true, that I didn't know anyone, nor did I have any plans. Who is Victoria? And why did Jacob tell me her name? I walk onto the dimly lit street, not having the faintest idea of where I am. As i continue to contemplate my predicament, I run straight into someone. 

"(L/N), what an odd time and place for our second meeting, not that I am complaining there is one" I look up at the person, who is currently towering over me and as I make eye contact, I realize there is only one person I know with eyes that blue. Jack Danford. 

"Danford. What is a gentleman of your refinement doing out at this late hour?" I smirk at him, and he ventures a response.

"I was overseeing a package being sent off, and I could hazard to ask the same question to you, but I don't think I particularly want the answer" he responds, flashing his white teeth.

"Smart man" I respond, starting to walk in the direction I was facing. 

"Would you fancy a drink?" he asks, wish his words washed in brass. I chuckle.

"What happened to not wanting to know what I do?"

"I don't need the specifics, but I hope to be on that agenda" he sneered. I rolled my eyes and linked my arm in with his right. His arm was clad in cool, hard leather, openly welcoming the addition of my arm. 

"I'll just assume that's a yes then love" 

"You'll learn quickly that assumptions won't get you far" I retort, as we start walking towards a string of lit bars along a waving pier. He laughed to himself, slightly tightening his grip around my arm. 

"So am I allowed to ask what your occupation entails?" Danford asked after a few seconds of comfortable silence. My mind rushes to think of a believable entail, without giving away the subtle essence which is my career.  

"Private Investigator"

"Compelling work, I'm sure. I assume you remember what I do"

"Salesman? Do you own the business?"

"I didn't originally but yes"

"Inheritance?"

"Of sorts. I worked for the original owner, and when he passed he left it to me"

"That's quite a large bequest"

"A large undertaking too. It was never my intention to own the shop, but the old man, bless his soul, never had any family, or any that he spoke of. I waited for a few years for a vengeful wife waiting for her share, or a begotten son demanding his rightful ownership, but the day never came"

"Did you have other plans? I mean, besides from working as a salesman?"

"I was a docker before I started working at the place. I always thought I'd go back to it, but alas, here I am"

"Do you miss it?"

"Terribly, but not the grueling work or the odorous laborers. The water. The ocean."

"I'm afraid that poetic notion is all to much for me." I interjected. 

"Oh yes, it is all very bittersweet, but I don't dote on it. I make more than enough money, from patrons like yourself who prefer the finer qualities of imported goods."

"Well, it sounds like you're having a good time of it."

"Oh don't get me wrong, I'm having an absolute ball." 

"I had no doubt of it" I laughed. We approached the end of the strip, and walked inside of one of the bars. It wasn't very busy, but still had that atmosphere of a general buzz. Danford bought two beers, in large glasses, and we settled into a rounded table in a dimly lit corner. The table and two chairs were made of different woods, yet they seemed to compliment each other perfectly. The worn nature of the table, with a few splints and scratches, reflected the business of the bar, and it's well loved clientele. Danford talked about his family, his mother and father who lived out the country way, farming livestock. He spoke of leaving his younger sister and brother behind, to pursue a life on the docks and later, the stone paving that made London city. That he was well of was a complete understatement, as he indirectly hinted at his small fortune he had gained while running the shop, plus his saved wages as a docker. 

Two hours passed, and the table accumulated seven glasses, with the addition of the one in Danford's hand. We left the bar, after being urged out by the ill-looking owner. We wondered the edge of the pier, with Danford's legs almost giving way on occasion. We ended up back at the doorstep of his shop, which still had a light on. He explained how he lived above the shop, in a very comfortable three rooms, in addition to a small kitchen. 

"This is usually the part when I invite you up, and I get respectful declined" he said, in a dangerously husky voice. I rolled my eyes, and put my hands on his shoulders. He quickly reacted by pushing his hand against my back, and gripping my waist with the other.

"I told you that your assumptions wouldn't get you far"