Chapter Text
Simcoe huffed as he approached the doors to the church. It was later in the evening, after the the vast majority of everyday affairs were put to rights and the chaos of relocating the rangers was dealt with.
The captain had arrived that afternoon with his rangers in tow and the thrill of revenge humming in his veins. He had returned with a better standing than what he’d left with, and he intended to use it in any way he could against Woodhull and Hewlett and any other bastard who stood in his way. Anna still sidestepped him but it wasn’t a problem, once the Major was gone he was certain she’d come around.
Simcoe’s only apprehended disappointment was with Baker. He had assumed, before he reached Setauket that Oliver with his stricter morals would have been troubled by his actions and would actively avoid him, or at the very least be unwilling to continue the little affair they had started before. Even if he was unaffected by it, his attention had probably drifted away from him and on to some other, less notorious lover by now. But oh well, he had thought. Such was the life of a soldier.
Even so, it had been nice to see him in town, alive and well. He had appreciated Oliver’s friendly little gestures, not thinking much of their meaning at the time beyond being just a polite little way of saying “Hello, it’s nice to see you here and not dead.”
But then he had showed up at his door, polite and almost trembling before the rangers Simcoe had been briefing previously, and Simcoe didn’t think he could have been more shocked had Oliver cracked him over the head with the flowers he presented him with immediately after.
He had been delighted by the gesture and even more by the man himself… but he had been blindsided by the story the ensign had to tell him about the time he was gone. About the house fire and his near escape in the aftermath of the battle. Oliver still had the burns from the incident, and Simcoe had asked why he hadn’t tried to write, but he had insisted it was of no import and that it was all perfectly fine. It made him wonder what the turning point would end up being. What would cross the threshold between “not a problem to bother anyone with” and “a problem worth mentioning”? Would “a problem worth mentioning” end up meaning the captain would have to see his death on a ledger somewhere with the “problem” as a cause?
It was then that he had been struck with the beginnings of a plan. He would take Baker in as one of his own rangers and just keep him nearby. It was easy enough to accomplish, since he could use the guise of filling in the vacancy that Cager left behind… but it would mean he would have to get through the Major.
As much as the thought of appealing to Hewlett made him sneer, Simcoe decided to just consider it just another irritatingly necessary inconvenience. He also supposed it would be rather suspicious if he suddenly started shuffling around the ranks to his liking so soon after Hewlett met his….tragically sudden and unforeseen end.
So, he spent the rest of his day, in between dealing with the hassle of situating the rangers amongst the preexisting regulars (and all the ensuing paperwork it caused), forming an adequate proposal for the Major, and trying his best to seem as pleasant as possible while doing it. He briefly considered asking Oliver himself about it, but he quickly dismissed the idea. After all, what could Oliver possibly have to protest? Simcoe was only working in his best interest.
He stepped through the doors, with as placid of an expression as he could manage. As he had expected, Hewlett was still buried in his work. He looked up at him, and Simcoe caught the faintest hint of unease cross his features before he caught himself, (it was the same look he had received earlier in the day when he gave his report). He sat a little straighter and set aside his quill to focus on the intruding ranger.
“Ah… Captain. Is something amiss?”
“No sir, all’s well— to my knowledge at least.”
They stared at eachother in silence for a few awkward moments before Simcoe spoke up.
“Major Hewlett, I think it might save us both quite a bit of trouble if I simply got straight to the point.” Hewlett worked his jaw apprehensively.
“Due to an…“ he paused, thinking back to Cager, “…unfortunate incident, I appear to be down a Ranger. While I know I am in no place to ask favors, I would like to request the transfer of one of your men to my Rangers.” The Major continued to eye him suspiciously. Well, that was to be expected at least. He opened his mouth to respond but Simcoe interjected quickly.
“AND!” The Major’s mouth snapped shut, startled, “I would like to specifically request Ensign Baker.” A slight pause. “...If you would be so kind.”
Hewlett stared at him as though he’d gone mad. Simcoe supposed it wasn’t particularly wise to go in so bluntly, but it wouldn’t do either of them any good to dance around longer than necessary. He just hoped his rather haphazardly tacked on pleasantries would go to work in his favor. The Major considered him for a moment more before responding.
“I’m sure a suitable candidate could be procured for you…however, I must ask, why are you requesting Baker specifically? While he certainly does have a good reputation amongst his commanders and fellow soldiers, he doesn’t strike me as being all that…” the Major paused to pick his words carefully, “…ranger-like.”
Simcoe was well aware that “ranger-like” was supposed to be a polite way of saying “sly, fiendish creature who killed for the thrill of it”. Though it irritated him to hear it, he pushed away the notion as quickly as it came, petty irritation wouldn’t do him any good here. Instead, he forced himself to smile and nod understandingly.
“Yes that’s certainly true, but that’s exactly why I need him,” the Major frowned in response.
“You see, sir, the Rangers as a unit are… testy I suppose is a term for it. They are an effective force to be sure but they are very set in their ways, and are especially resilient against outside influences. Even my own presence was enough to cause dissent amongst them. Now granted, I could still just snatch up any common butcher who could sign his name, stuff him in a uniform and threaten the others into submission again but…”
Simcoe paused, picking over his words carefully before treading into unfamiliar waters. “Well, simply put, Major, I thought about your… philosophy concerning winning over people’s hearts and minds. I know its… not precisely the same situation but- seeing as my own strategies have disastrously fallen short . . . I feel it is best for everyone involved to listen to the advice I was previously offered.” Simcoe was beginning to wish he had simply put his appeal in a letter and been done with it. All this sucking up to Hewlett was making his skin crawl, though the surprise that flickered across the Major’s face at least gave him the satisfaction that it had some effect.
“Baker is, as you said, not ranger-like in the least. He is amiable, gracious, always concerned for the well-being of his peers... He makes a perfect contrast to the existing Rangers, but he’s also not likely to be taken as an easy target either. It also helps that our dear Oliver doesn’t seem to have a conniving bone in his body, he’s practically the perfect soldier, and he makes an even better-….… friend.”
It was best to let that particular thought trail off.
Hewlett shuffled awkwardly, drawing Simcoe’s attention back. He cleared his throat and started again.
“Right. Anyway as I was saying he’s pleasant and follows orders, but is also not naive— maybe a touch unobservant at times perhaps, but not naive. I’m certain he’ll be able to hold his own amongst the existing Rangers without being an intrusive entity, and hopefully he might set an example for the other men to follow.” Simcoe rushed to put an end to his appeal, fearing he’s shared too much, (and not entirely trusting Hewlett to buy into his whole “coming to the light” bit).
The Major hummed and gave him an inquisitive look.
“You know him well then, I presume.” The statement was almost conversational, but Simcoe heard the hidden questions beneath it.
“Oh yes, very well,” his lips twitched into a smile. “We had been very close friends before I had been… sent away. I know you tend to look down upon officers interacting with the men beneath them for the sake of preserving authority but, well… Baker never meant anything by it. I spoke to him recently and it seems that no love has been lost—so to speak.”
Simcoe could practically hear the thoughts working through the Major’s head. It was somewhat unnerving in this particular scenario.
“I’ll consider your appeal, Captain, but I can’t make you any promises as of yet. Forgive me but I cannot in good conscious give an answer for an inquiry of this nature without consulting the other party first.”
Simcoe knew this to be a lie. Transfers of much greater volumes occurred all the time without so much as half a backwards glance to the men it involved, but he knew what caused Hewlett’s sudden concern. He was worried because it was Simcoe asking.
Nevertheless, he plastered a smile on his face and thanked the Major for his time and consideration, scraping up the last dregs of graciousness he could muster before bowing out.
He shut the doors behind him carefully and walked several paces away before letting the smile fall with a sigh that hissed through his teeth.
He knew Hewlett wouldn’t see through him necessarily, but he could only hope he had made the explanation vague enough for Oliver to catch up on. As much as Simcoe was growing to like him and the company he provided, he was by no means deceptive.
Although, as much as it served as an inconvenience at times, he had to admit Oliver’s honest nature was a rather refreshing break from the never ending espionage issue. It would really be a shame if he had to give him up so soon after realizing he’d never lost him to begin with.