The Good Man

Chapter 6 Police Muddle

"Everything's alright. I have you now. I've got you." Nimbly was whispering to a soaked bumble of black dress, and the distraught little girl who wore it.

The constable walked back and forth in front of Nimbly, arms crossed. The valet was soaked too, though ironically dry on his ass, so he was allowed to sit on the edge of a wooden chair. Chrysanthemum had refused to loosen her hold on Nimbly, no matter what she was coaxed with.

"This is all my fault." David muttered in the corner of the room they were in, top half soaked, knees wet, pants dry. He had been left at a bad angle by the officer who brought him in and seemed too stressed to fix himself.

"Don't say that." Nimbly chided, rubbing Chris's back and rocking her.

"I let her play in the puddles in the street! I should have listened to you!" David cried, placing his hands to his head and tugging at his hair.

"You didn't know." Nimbly assured, looking to meet his eyes. "Shhh. The blame is not on you. Don't punish yourself."

David did not look consoled, finding no solace in the words. However, Junior climbing into his lap earned his attention, and his arms dropped to wrap around the dry little boy. Holding his brother tight, he looked warily towards the door where his father was in discussion over a will.

"You ought to count yourself lucky." The countable said. "That little girl might have been dead a few minutes under. Heard too much water kills your innards."

Nimbly gave the man a pointed glare as Chrysanthemum began to tremble and whine again, just as she had barely begun to calm down. She very clearly heard them, and no doubt would be scared of water for the rest of her life.

There was a considerable pause before the constable decided to speak again, much to everyone's displeasure, "Let's hope the girl's dad doesn't charge you too harshly for puttin' your lips to hers."

Nimbly closed his eyes for a moment and kept himself in check, before replying with a sharp tone and his eyes upward, "I was placing air back into her lungs."

"That's what you call it now, eh?" The constable crosses his arms and shook his head in disapproval.

"Could you, perhaps, find out what happened to the man you sent off for towels? Rather than treating me like a degenerate who fancies children?" Nimbly snarked, finding himself very unprofessional, though he could care less at the moment. Chrysanthemum almost died. He wanted to express his rage at having almost lost her and being treated terribly for saving her.

The constable left, thankfully, though he gave Nimbly a warning glance.

"Are you very mad?" David asked, a little concerned.

Nimbly nodded. "F... Furious." He held himself back from cussing. "Not at you. At the road. At that constable. At this situation. But not at you, alright? None of you kids are in trouble."

David nodded and shivered, as the day may have been hot, but in the office the air was cool and the breeze moved through the windows as evening approached. The teenager dared to stand, with his brother in his arms, trembling like a baby deer. He attempted to move one foot forward before he nearly plummeted, accepting Nimbly's help as the adult moved to pick him up and move them to the largest seat in the room. They returned to the position the police had found them in - Nimbly held all three kids close and wet.

"Hey! I thought I told you not to get near that man!" The officer and constable had entered with towels, and the officer looked pissed.

"I will do as I please!" David spat at them indignantly.

A comforting hand rubbed David's back and little hands gripped tightly onto Nimbly's shirt, as both little kids clung to the nanny like briars. Junior seemed to have calmed down now, but Chris still shook. Nimbly felt a slight rage directed towards Edward Sr. for not coming to aid the situation.