It wasn't that he was soft, no matter what Jem White would claim loudly to the contrary. It wasn't even that he was trying to butter her up. It was... well, frankly, the Dodger couldn't properly explain the why of him showing up at Nancy's doorstep like that, a bottle of gin in his hand. He just...

They'd never gone so long without talking. Even on bad days, they always seemed to be able to find something to natter about, and not being able ot have that natter with her felt... strange. Like something wasn't right.

So he was here. With gin. Gin always helped.