Ruby took his hand and led him into her old bedroom at Ogden manor. Just this one room was larger than his entire apartment and miles more grandiose. More detailed observations were abandoned when she loosed her lovely hair and began undoing his tunic. As it fell to the floor, he pulled her against him and brought their lips together for the first time. The sweet kiss quickly deepened and she moaned in pleasure, eliciting an immediate response from him. He pulled away briefly to lift her up and plop her in the luxurious bed. Then he was upon her with renewed vigour and appetite.
When he next opened his eyes he yelped and immediately released his hold on the woman before him. For you see, Ruby had transformed into Dr. Ogden!
"What's wrong, George?" she asked him. "Why did you stop?"
George closed his eyes for a few seconds and opened them again. Ruby was now looking back at him, perplexedly.
"I thought I saw...never mind."
He kissed her and again loosed his hold. Dr. Ogden was back again but this time she was dressed as a man! Complete with moustache!
George scrambled backwards away from her until he fell off the bed. The pretty man's face hovered over the edge soon after.
"George," she said concernedly. "You're acting very strangely. I'm worried about you."
She reached down and touched his shoulder and he woke up at his desk. There was a hand on his shoulder here too, this time it belonged to Ruby.
"Nice to see you hard at work, constable," she said smirking, gesturing to his typewriter and the horrid ending to his novel. He hoped she hadn't read it but knew it was unlikely.
"Well, I...
His drowsy eyes caught sight of Dr. Ogden leaving Detective Murdoch's office. Involuntarily he jumped in his seat and yelped in alarm.
The sisters shared a look. "Whatever is the matter, George?" Dr. Ogden asked coming over to his side.
"Nothing!" he exclaimed. "Everything is perfectly fine, doctor!"
"They don't look fine, George. Your face is flushed and feverish." She placed a hand to his forehead. "And you're hot and sweaty."
He stood up and grabbed his helmet. "I'm fine," he reiterated adamantly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go...shave!"
"What was all that about?" said Ruby.
Julia released a bewildered sigh. "Constable Crabtree is an odd man to be sure."
"But an uncommonly kind one."
"Indeed." Julia gave her sister a sideways glance. "You could benefit from such a trait."
"Why, Jules, are you attempting to play match maker for little old moi?"
Julia shrugged her shoulders and smirked.
"Well, I'll have you know that I accompanied you here tonight for the express purpose of asking him to escort me to your wedding."
"Oh you did, did you? And pray tell, how did you know he would still be here?" She gestured around the darkened area. "No one else is."
"I didn't, of course, rather I hoped." Ruby moved directly in front of her sister. "Not unlike you."
"Excuse me?" she said, taken aback.
"It seems to me that you could have waited until morning to hand in that report. You wouldn't by any chance have been trying to meet with the detective alone, would you?"
"No, of course not, Ruby," she said glancing away, "don't be silly."
Ruby placed a hand on her forearm. "It's not too late you know. You could still change your mind."
"I will not," she said shaking her head stubbornly. "He deserves better than me."
Ruby sighed and linked arms with Julia. "Well come along then, Jules, there is little else for us here."
There was a knock at his apartment door. It was late and he was dressed in only his underthings. Another knock sounded and he threw on his long winter coat and answered it. A petite blond woman stood there with what appeared to be a bottle of champagne in hand.
Her eyes twinkled. "Chilly are we, constable?"
"Ruby?" George asked confusedly, needlessly clutching at his coat further. "What are you doing here at this hour?"
"I was in the neighbourhood and decided to stop by."
"You shouldn't be out and about by yourself at night. It's not safe for someone like you."
"Someone like me, George?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Whatever could you mean?"
"Well," he said slowly, "I just meant that you are a..."
His voice trailed off and his eyes focused on his feet.
"I'm a delicate flower incapable of handling herself, is that your point?" George didn't respond but coloured slightly. "Your concern is sweet but unfounded." George dared to look up. "I have travelled to many a rougher place than Toronto. Out of necessity, one picks up a thing or two in the art of self defence."
"Such as?" he asked, intrigued.
She smiled. "Let's just say a well placed kick can do wonders." George wanted to enquire further but didn't get the chance. "Now, won't you be a dear and invite me in so we can celebrate?"
"Celebrate? Celebrate what?"
"I've just completed final preparations for Jules wedding. It's a miracle I've managed to finish on time considering the state of things not two weeks ago."
George stepped, or rather jumped aside to let her in. Ruby quickly settled into one of two chairs beside his tiny 'kitchen' table and placed the champagne upon it. Then she kicked off her shoes and began massaging her feet.
She looked over at him and smirked at his rapt fascination.
"Have you never seen a woman's bare feet before, George?"
"Of course, I have!" he exclaimed , finally closing the door and sitting down across from her.
"Yes, how silly of me. I can personally attest to the veracity of that avowal." Eyeing him coyly. "We had a rather unorthodox first meeting didn't we?"
George became a bit uncomfortable. "It was definitely one to remember."
"I'm flattered my...charms weren't lost on you."
Whether it was such talk or the unseasonably warm weather, George didn't know, but he had begun to sweat within the confines of his woolen coat.
"Are your feet feeling better now?"
"Indeed they are." She stood up and bare foot began rummaging through his cabinet until she found two ratty glasses.
"I'm sorry they're not nicer," he muttered, embarrassed.
"They're fine, George. No holes or anything."
She picked up the bottle and prepared to open it, then she glanced at him and held it out. "Would you like to do the honours?"
"All right."
George grasped the bottle tight with one hand and tugged at the cork with the other. Finally it gave way and a small amount of white foam oozed out the top. Ruby held out the glasses and he filled them up.
After a brief toast they drank and instantly he felt it go to his head. Ruby watched his reaction and said, "How do you like it, George? It's a special blend that will be served at the wedding."
"It's lovely but a bit strong for my tastes."
She looked at him quizzically. "Really? I'm surprised by that. Didn't you once tell me you hailed from Newfoundland?" He nodded. "Well, if I'm not much mistaken, the rum they make there is much worse than this."
"It is...I guess I just haven't eaten much today."
"In that case I will just have to pick up the slack for you."
So saying she poured herself another drink and promptly disposed of it down her gullet.
"Is everything all right, Ruby?" he asked tentatively.
She eyed him for a moment before responding. "My sister is to be married to the wrong man. Nothing worth discussing, I'm sure."
"It is a pity that your sister and the detective weren't able to sort things out. I always thought they were so perfectly suited for one another."
"I'm glad you think so, George," Ruby said with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. "As delightful as your company is, I didn't simply come here for that. I believe it is your duty to talk some sense into the honourable yet misguided detective."
"Ruby..."
"He won't listen to me. You're his only hope at happiness, George."
"I can't, Ruby, it's not my place to interfere," he said glancing away.
"You must, George," she pleaded, placing a hand over top his. "Or all is lost."
He looked up. "I'm sorry, but I can't."
She frowned. "Can't or won't?"
George didn't respond. Ruby stood up abruptly, knocking over her chair and stormed out of the apartment.
"You forgot your shoes," he mumbled to himself after she had gone.