"Julie, I've reserved a room for us at the Queens Hotel."
"William!"
"Under both our names. We will both sign the ledger."
"William I- I can't ask you to be involved in such a sordid task."
"Julia, I am involved. There's no question. We both are. In this and in everything."
"Queens Hotel. Everyone will see us."
"Witnesses, a signed ledger. That should be all the evidence you need."
"Are you quite sure you want to do this? You know there will be no going back."
"I'm sure."
"So you're prepared to spend the night together?"
"I've brought dominoes."
The Queens Hotel lobby was hushed as they checked in, although the night clerk's eyebrow twitched all the same. It would be difficult for him not to recognize the renowned Detective Murdoch who was, the clerk was quite sure, absolutely unmarried. And yet Julia Ogden stood beside him boldly, watching the clerk with her own narrowed gaze, challenging him to make a remark. He was, however, too seasoned to let anything show and his face was bland as he turned the ledge in Julia's direction. Her hand did not falter as she signed beside William's neat script, their little sin now stark on ink and paper.
The bellman took William's bag and if he found Julia's lack of luggage unusual he didn't show it and instead led them up the central stairway the rooms above.
As they ascended Julia wondered when William would come to the very obvious conclusion that this - that she - was not worth it. That he allowed himself to be drawn into something tawdry and deeply below him. Her fear was that he would one day resent her and the things he gave up for her and the thought was singularly terrifying. He must have sensed her discomfort because ss they neared the landing he flexed and drew her nearer, slipping his arm behind her, palm resting possessively (and scandalously) on her hip. He was, as they say in cards, all in, whatever the outcome.
They waited for the bellman to unlock the door and when William's lips brushed her temple. Julia swayed on the spot, suddenly unsure she was ready to spend the night with him, dominoes or no.
William, so willing to protect the honor of her body. She, so adamant to protect the honor of his heart. It felt like a cruel temptation of both of them to stand in this luscious hallway, his palm burning through the layers of her suit with the faintest touch. Desire coursed from his fingers to her abdomen and Julia offered a clumsy silent prayer that she not be led into this particular temptation, if only for William's sake.
And then he was ushering her into the room, the leather bag thumping as the bellman dropped it onto the carpet. The faintest rattle of ivory inside was the only hint of their deception and William loosed Julie, who quickly excused herself to the bedroom.
"We here at the Queens Hotel pride ourselves on our discretion." The grey-eyed bellman was stone-faced but his fingers twitched in the universal symbol of a tip. The rule was unspoken, William supposed, that he was to buy the man's silence.
William slapped a coin into the man's outstretched hands and his lips curled into a small smile. The bellman looked up in mystified shock at what was obviously well below the going rate for a discretion tax. Silence would, of course, defeat their purpose so William simply shrugged and turned away, leaving the bellman to let himself out.
In the parlor William steadied himself with the task of preparing tea, using the simple act to settle his nerves. He was adamant that nothing should happen this night, but Julia tucked to his side, so malleable in his embrace, sorely tested his resolve. As the tea steeped he allowed himself a moment to ruminate on the winding path that had brought them to this time, to this place. They were so much a game of snakes and ladders, boundless steps forward before falling even further apart. If he allowed himself too long to think on the time they'd wasted, he would become morose and he would allow nothing to spoil the mood.
Instead he thought of Julia. His traitorous, eidetic mind flashed over the image of her standing before him in the woods, completely bare. She didn't even move to cover herself, in spite of her surprise. She simply stood, open and radiant, blinking doe eyes at him that slowly suffused with humor.
She was incandescent and he wanted nothing more than to soar into her light, become enveloped in her warmth. It was a kind of madness, his love for her. His practical, pragmatic approach rendered useless in her gaze. She was Persephone, Artemis and Hecate and Athena. His warrior goddess, guardian of the dead, magical and mystical and practical.
And, when she emerged from the bedroom, she was ethereal. She had removed her coat, hat and pins and her hair flowed freely over her shoulders. Her face was washed absolutely clean, and she had loosed a few buttons. She looked so much younger, so much freer in that moment. It reminded him of that night in the park, the same flush running up her throat. He was entranced by the skin of her neck, knowing exactly how glorious it tasted.
"You should get comfortable." Her words broke through his stupor and William found her staring at him with humor in her gaze. Caught but not particularly sorry, he excused himself to the bedroom and closed the door behind him with a soft snick.
Julia let out a long breath and fiddled with the pearl buttons at her wrist, her mind lost in William. With a defeated sigh she collapsed on the couch, suddenly realizing exactly how difficult the entire evening would be. They were two hard-headed trains on a collision course with fate and she hoped they would make it through unscathed. But already her heart pounded and her throat was dry, made only more Saharan when William entered the room undone, no longer a laced up and proper detective but a man.
She hadn't seen him in such a state of deshabille since...that night. The night she dreamed about for months after it happened and often in the years since. She remembered every detail - the weight of him pressing her into the soft earth. The verdant smell of the park, sharp in the cooling evening. His tongue slipping past her lips tasting of absinthe and peanut butter and rendering her putty beneath his hands. She had been the saner head that night but years of sharp desire and extended overture made her doubt her sanity where William Murdoch was concerned.
And yet she no more wanted to tempt him into sin than he wanted to lead her to commit adultery. Perhaps he would be the cooler head and keep his distance. She was not sure she could tell him no if he asked.
Of course, he wouldn't ask.
He looked down at her, his chin tucked to his chest, a rascally smile on his face. He looked a naughty child, completely unrepentant, and her breath caught.
He wouldn't ask. Would he?
He sat carefully beside her and studied her face. His dark-lined eyes blinked slowly as the drew across her features. Tentatively he reached for a curl, lifting it on his fingertip as though a droplet of water, simply holding it there. And then he leaned forward, his breath slipping over her cheek and sending a tingle down her back to settle low in her belly.
"We should play the game, Julia." He murmured.
Oh but William, she thought. We already are.
A/N - I started this series two weeks ago and I'm well past this episode. However this whole night has been fascinating and I can't seem to get it out of my head. I've learned that means I need to exorcise my demons with a spot of fic. This will be 2 or 3 parts, depending.