This will totally happen in the show. Without a doubt. :p
Many called it the city of love. And for good reason. Paris had an atmosphere unlike any other. Whether it was in the crowded, spacious streets or hidden away in an ancient secluded spot, an intense feeling of oneness seemed to pervade the very air. Unlike in Toronto, couples were not afraid to showcase their affections for all the world to see, nor was it illegal to do so.* It was as if Parisians were ahead of their time, already embracing a modern minded society that was unencumbered by such strict propriety and impossible standards.
Not that William and Julia had really noticed any of this yet. They had been far too busy with other exploits to pay any mind to the nature of their honeymoon retreat. First they had barely left their cabin during the week long boat trip across the Atlantic Ocean and now they had spent another day in the luxurious suite atop one of the finest hotels the city had to offer. Julia thought it very symbolic. Essentially they had made love for one day of every year they foolishly hadn't been together.
Today was supposed to have been different but unfortunately the weather had changed suddenly and just as they had finished dressing fully for the first time in eight days, a horrid storm had blown in and made venturing out quite undesirable. Still, Julia was determined to visit the Louvre and telephoned down to the lobby to ask for a carriage to be made available. The concierge tried to talk her out of it in broken English as nicely as he possibly could, but she insisted.
Within minutes they were bound towards the century old museum in a leaky cab while pedestrians scattered into buildings and archways in an attempt to get out of the downpour and high winds. William lectured loudly about the various exhibits currently on display. As usual, his extensive knowledge made it seem as though he had personal experience there, but of course he hadn't...not unlike their foray into bed. She had been exceedingly thankful that he was such an avid reader of a variety of materials.
When they finally arrived at the Louvre, a drowned rat of a man rushed down the steps and informed them that the power had been lost and consequently the museum was closed.
"But historically speaking you've been without electricity for much longer than with it!" she yelled through the crack in the carriage door. "Surely we can make do with a lantern or two!"
"Perhaps that is true madame," the mustached man returned. "However, the threat of robbery is much higher without functioning alarm systems. As such, no one is allowed in. I'm sorry."
Julia's mood quickly soured at the prospect of returning to the hotel woefully uncultured but there was nothing for it.
Back in their now darkened suite, somewhat hot and bothered from the eight floor trek up the narrow stairs, William lit a candle and said very seriously, "How fortuitous I remembered to bring my dominoes with me."
She glared at that comment and watched by the faint light as he retrieved a familiar black bag from their mound of luggage (most of which was hers). It was the same one he had brought with him during their 'scandalous' night at the Queen's Hotel. Julia had thought he was only joking but in that case, as well as this one, he had not been.
Her husband placed the bag on the table in front of her and began removing the ceramic tiles, one by one, in a slow methodical way, a smirk spreading just as slowly across his features. If he kept that up for much longer, she was bound to snap.
Without looking at her he said, "Tell me, Julia, do you recall a case we worked together back in 1896 involving a bordello that had been set on fire?"
She rolled her eyes. "Of course I do, William. It was a rather memorable time for me. Your...friend Miss Weston oversaw the venture. I believe it was rather cheekily called The Music Academy."
"That is exactly right. And were you aware that one of the couples interviewed directly afterwards had been only partially clothed at the time of the incident?"
Julia snorted. "Hardly shocking considering the locale."
"Indeed. But the reason for which is not entirely what you think."
By now he had retrieved enough tiles from his damn bag to cover about a third of the table.
"You see, Miss Furlow and her gentleman companion had been in the middle of a rather unusual game of poker when the alarm sounded." William glanced at her finally, reducing some of her irritation. "Apparently they would remove an article of clothing every time they lost a hand, something akin to the pot. The ultimate goal being to render their opponent completely nude, or bankrupt."
Intrigued she said, "How fascinating. I imagine it must have taken a very unique mind to think of combining such abstract elements. Was it of Miss Furlow's invention or her gentleman callers?"
"Miss Furlow."
Thoughtfully, "If Mr. Webster with his taste for a...domineering woman was any indication of the typical clientele of that institution, they were an odd bunch, prone to odd proclivities. Likely Miss Furlow found it necessary to adapt on occasion in order to cater to a wide variety of needs."
The last of the tiles had been placed face down on the table. William smiled as he took the bag away from their playing space. Elemental forces howled against their expansive windows overlooking a great portion of the magnificent urban landscape.
"So, Mrs. Murdoch, would you care to conduct an experiment with me? I think it highly prudent that we determine whether or not such an end result can be duplicated when dominoes are utilized instead of cards. After all, the scientific method requires that all avenues of investigation be explored. Nothing should be left to chance."
"Why I'd be delighted to assist you in this most noble of efforts, Mr. Murdoch," she said with a grin. It came across as a bit ghoulish due to the flickering half light.
"Very good."
They each took their seven tiles and the game commenced. As they discarded more and more of their tiles in silence, the sexual tension in the increasingly warm room grew. Finally William won the first game and he looked at Julia expectantly, and she thought, a little smugly.
"Time for my prize."
She giggled and said, "Are there any rules to the order in which I shed my garments?"
"Not that I'm aware of Julia. The choice is completely yours. However, logic dictates you must begin with something on the outside. Your blouse perhaps?"
Julia kept eye contact with him as she undid the buttons to her blue and white shirt. She fancied that she could see his neck muscles straining to keep his eyes in place. Stifling a laugh, she took off her blouse and lazily dropped it on the lavishly carpeted floor beside her. A rather lacy and exotic corset lay beneath, exposing a large amount of cleavage.
After a quick peek, her husband gulped and then cleared his dry throat. "Well, then...it appears the first stage of our experiment was a success. Hopefully the next phase will be just as fruitful."
"Oh I intend to win this round, William," she said playfully, intentionally folding her arms across her chest and leaning against the edge of the table to further amplify her bosom and distract him.
"We will see about that," he managed after a time, in a rather unconvincing manner.
The tiles were quickly shuffled and a new game began. Soon they were both finding it very stuffy and since they couldn't open the windows or let the storm in to ravage them and their things, they settled for glasses of water.
As she deliberated over her next move she nonchalantly said, "Did I ever tell you about the woman who was sexually attracted to pens?" She had purposely timed the question to coincide with his taking a drink. Not surprisingly he choked on the water.
"Did I hear you correctly, Julia?" he asked after a moment. "You did say pens, did you not?"
"Just so. I once treated a patient who became very easily aroused by them. In fact, the bigger and blacker they were,"- William coughed, "the more intense her attraction became. As you can imagine, such triggers were virtually everywhere in the asylum. It became very difficult to keep her under control and attempt to ascertain the root of her strange predilection. Eventually I instructed everyone to use pencils and to keep all pens locked away and hidden."
Julia placed a tile down and didn't continue her narration.
"And?" William enquired. "Were you successful in treating her?"
"To a degree," she said with a grimace. "Her attraction to that particular writing instrument was so overpowering and so deeply ingrained in her psyche, that it was impossible to rid her of it completely. However, with hypnosis I was able to lessen the degree of her desire to a more manageable level by partially transferring her attraction to more natural things."
"Such as?"
"Flowers and pies."
"Julia," William said annoyed. "Be serious."
"I am, William," she said, holding back a laugh.
"Fine then, if you won't tell me the truth I am going to make you pay."
So saying he rid himself of his last tile and won another round.
"You're out already?" she said, shocked. "But I still have four tiles left!"
"Perhaps if you had spent more time focused on the game and less on trying to distract me with your titillating tale," he glanced at her bosom, "you would have noticed how close you were to losing beforehand." He leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Now, then, don't you have something to show me?"
Julia huffed, took off a shoe and placed it in his palm. His smile soured and then round three began. Again William won and she kicked off her other shoe. They played through several more rounds in intense concentration. Not even the insistent drums of mother nature could disturb their minds. Once Julia was down to just her underwear and William had yet to remove a single piece of clothing - except the hat he had voluntarily extracted from his head upon their arrival back here - she knew without a doubt that something was amiss.
Eyeing him suspiciously she queried, "William Murdoch, are you cheating?"
"Cheating, Julia?" he said, frowning. "A loyal servant of the law? Such a thing would be unconscionable. I'm disappointed in you, wife, thinking so meanly of your husband."
She wasn't buying his act. "You are cheating, aren't you?!"
William simply smiled and she felt like throwing a shoe at him, but both of hers were out of reach now so she couldn't.
"I've been watching you very closely and I can't figure out how you're doing it! But I know you are! Nobody is that lucky!"
His smile grew wider but still he said nothing.
"Fine then," she snapped, "if you won't tell me how you are cheating, I am finished disrobing for you!"
Standing up, she was about to leave the game when he said, "My memory of course. Why else do you think I took my time laying the tiles out?"
To infuriate me?
She scowled at him and intended to get dressed but then thought better of it.
Settling back in her chair she said, "I suppose there's only one way for you to make it up to me now." William gave her a confused look and she smiled mischievously. "Take off your clothes, William. And do so slowly."
"All right."
It was funny that only a week ago, he would have been very embarrassed to do this. Now he was more than willing. He started to remove his suit jacket but she stopped him.
"Hold on a moment, William," she said wagging a finger. "Come into the light so I can see you better."
"As you wish."
William took a place a few feet in front of her. "Is this to your liking?"
"Very much so," she replied. "Now strip."
"Strip?" he chuckled as he removed his arm from the first sleeve. "Odd choice of words."
"Do you think so? I think it rather fitting myself...for instance strip poker has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
Her husband laughed more fully. "You are starting to sound like George."
"Oh my," she said in mock horror, "we can't have that."
Nor can we have you thinking about your protegee at a time like this.
So far he had only removed his suit jacket and loosened his tie. Excruciatingly slowly he undid the buttons to his vest and very neatly folded it against the back of his chair like he had done with his suit jacket before. She was beginning to get impatient but bit her tongue to stop herself from ruining the moment.
William was an extremely methodical man so of course she expected him to next take off his shirt but instead he bent over after lowering one suspender to his waist and tugged at the laces to his shoes. He was smirking and she figured this was payback for her own strip tease. Socks exposed, he pulled those off too and then stood up erect again, making sure to keep just out of reach.
Next he undid the button to his trousers and let the flap hang open while he worked on the myriad of buttons on his starched white shirt. She found it impossible to look anywhere else but the black void in his pants until he somehow managed to take off his shirt without allowing the last suspender strap to fall down with it. Finally there was only the thin wife beater shirt hiding his intoxicating torso from view. She hoped one day the shirt would gain a new name because the current one was despicable and she hated any kind of association of domestic violence with her own husband.
William hiked the shirt up a little ways like a curtain, exposing his toned stomach beneath and she felt a sharp tightening in her loins. It was all she could do not to jump him and tousle his perfect hair anew when a bead of sweat travelled from his navel and into the darkened depths of his trousers. A second later he had dropped his shirt back down and she was crushed, as if she would never see such a glorious sight again, or hadn't already many times before.
He cocked his head to the side and said, "Look, Julia, the weather is clearing. The Louvre will likely be open soon."
"What?" she sputtered, utterly entranced by the sensual display.
"I know how much you were looking forward to seeing the Mona Lisa." He replaced the second suspender to his broad shoulder and her world continued to crumble. "We should hurry and get dressed so that we can be the first ones to admire her today."
When he did up the button to his trousers she managed to find her voice. "Actually, William, I believe I wouldn't mind waiting until later." She closed the gap between them, fiddling with his suspender straps, snapping one of them accidentally. He winced, but only slightly so that she was unaware of hurting him. "After all, it's been there for over a hundred years." While she gazed into his eyes, she undid that most sacred of buttons and then placed her hand firmly against his slightly damp crotch to make her intent quite clear. Instantly she felt him stiffen and watched as his pupils darkened in response. "What's one more day?"
"Indeed," he whispered, pulling her against him and hungrily kissing her for the first time in hours, though it seemed more like years.
The games were officially over.
* I don't know if that's true or not but just go with it.
Also, as a joke I basically used two things I've noticed George is infatuated with. Pens and pies.
I suppose this is rather tame compared to my other romantic M rated fic but it seems better suited for this area. And I may decide to add to this later. ;)
