I honestly don't know what to call this one. So the title may change.
Note: Everyone is supposed to be more or less S1 ages.
Steam spewed forth from the valve gear as the bulky black locomotive came to a screeching halt. Some unfortunate passengers had not been expecting such a sudden stop and fell over. Murdoch helped an older man to his feet and then with his single bag slung across his shoulder, descended the two metal steps to land in Calgary. Until very recently it had been an isolated spot. So it was no surprise to Murdoch that the town was far from thriving.
No architectural wonders here.
Though, as he meandered through the quiet village, he was pleased to discover it had most of the essentials. Unlike the most recent city he had been in, there was a notable lack of street lamps, or as he had noted on Yonge street, arc lamps. While most of Toronto didn't have a constant supply of electricity, some of the more affluent denizens had begun experimenting with various different types of lighting. The eerie glow such arc lamps emitted was preferable to no lighting whatsoever in unfamiliar surroundings. Soon it would be dark and Murdoch made a mental note to procure a lantern after he attended to his duties.
Within minutes he had passed through the densest part of Calgary. From what he understood, the North-West Mounted Police (NWMP) had a barracks in the North-East corner along the Bow and Elbow rivers. The trek there was an easy one, this being the Prairies and all, yet he was very tired from lack of sleep on the journey here and was now keenly feeling any exertion. The supplies on his back weren't helping matters. Nevertheless, he pushed forward like he always did and approached the roughly hewn wooden fort.
From up in one of the four corner watch towers, an armed Mountie called down asking him to state his purpose.
"To speak with your Commander."
The Mountie sized him up for a moment. "All right, you can pass."
Murdoch thanked the man and then headed through the gateless fort enclosure. Other Mounties watched his progress as he crossed the dirt courtyard. After some confusion in the barracks themselves, he eventually located the quarters of the man in charge. The somewhat stout orange haired man started awake from behind a small rectangular table at Murdoch's knock. Clearly he had fallen asleep while reading what appeared to be a children's novel. But it was hard to be certain as the commander had immediately dropped it out of sight.
"What do you want?" he asked sourly, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.
"My name is William Murdoch and I am here on behalf of my employers, The Pinkertons-"
"Here we go," the man muttered, reaching for his glass of whiskey.
Murdoch ignored his rudeness and continued, "We are in pursuit of two highly dangerous fugitives," he pulled out the wanted poster from the top of his bag and held it out to the commander, "one James Gillies and one Robert Perry."
"Bloody hell!" the commander yelped, jumping to his feet after seeing how much the bounty was. He grabbed the poster out of Murdoch's hand to goggle at the amount further.
"Yes, it's a fair sum," he said, waiting for the commander to give him his full attention again. When the man continued to gawk, Murdoch cleared his throat loudly, and the commander finally came to his senses and stood at attention like a proper military man would.
"The fugitives in question have robbed several Toronto banks," Murdoch proceeded with his narration, "killing six people in the process. The constabulary apprehended them, but somehow they managed to escape custody." The commander rolled his eyes and Murdoch couldn't help but silently agree with his assessment of the ineptitude of the Toronto police, and in particular, station house four. "I have reason to believe they boarded the Pacific Railway three weeks ago and are now somewhere nearby."
Incredulous for a different reason than the lofty price on their heads, "And what brought you to that brilliant conclusion? There's nothing bloody out here!"
"I have enquired down the line and have still not located them, therefore it is only logical they are here." Murdoch smiled thinly. "At the time of their departure, this was the end of the line, more or less."
The older man grumbled at the prospect of doing any work. "I suppose this means you're expecting us to help in your search."
"Seeing as I am not well acquainted with the area, that would be most appreciated, yes," said Murdoch with a nod.
"And uh," he said overly eagerly, but trying to hide it, "would there perhaps be a reward in there for me?" He caught Murdoch's raised eyebrow and gestured to the poster on the table, eyes becoming shifty. "Should we find those tossers, I mean."
"Such a decision would not be up to me I'm afraid. But I have been authorized to give a small stipend to all those who aid me in my quest."
The commander eyed him for a moment and then sighed, body sagging. "All right, Murdoch, I'll put some men together and they'll assist you...tomorrow morning."
Considering it was nearly eight o'clock and he was exhausted and starving, this was music to his ears.
"Thank you..."
The commander puffed out his chest and raised a hand to his forehead, showing some real manners for the first time since his arrival. "Lieutenant-Colonel Brackenreid. At your service."
"Thank you, Brackenreid."
In vain did Murdoch search for a place to eat and rest. There were no restaurants or hotels here. So he went into the general store and bought himself some stale bread. After devouring that right in front of the apologetic proprietor, he purchased a lantern and went in search of a decent location to lay his weary head down.
As he was leaving the town he came across a curious sight. That of a big boned man attempting to use what appeared to be an old fashioned printing press. A petite blond woman - clearly a recent arrival from some city judging by her overly elegant attire - watched his progress impatiently, eventually attempting to take over the task of winching the two halves together. Unsurprisingly she accomplished even less than the man. Then she started to jump around like a child having a tantrum. It was most unbecoming. The strong man looked frightened by such a display and started backing further into the building, quickly hitting the back wall of the small, poorly constructed structure.
Near his ear. "Quite the spectacle, isn't it?"
He turned to face another blond haired beauty. Her wavy, or rather, uncouth hair cascaded across her shoulders, which directed his attention downwards past her silver horse necklace, dusty white blouse...to finally fixate on her beige trousers!
Without introducing herself she continued, "My sister fancies herself a reporter. She hopes to shed some light on the scandalous treatment of the Chinamen working the railroad."
The unusually dressed woman watched him closely, apparently wanting to know how he would react to such a statement. Murdoch was too tired to react, something she must have noticed.
"I was just about to collect my sister for a late dinner." Murdoch eyed said sister attacking the non compliant press. "Would you care to join us?"
Given the nature of his job, he often ended up in unusual locales and at the mercy of others kindness. "That would be lovely," he replied, with a small appreciative smile.
She smiled back and held out her hand like a man would, "Julia."
"William Murdoch," he returned, lightly shaking her hand, surprised at how rough they were. Julia seemed amused by this reticence to apply pressure. By the time he decided to make the handshake more firm, she had already departed towards the would be printing shack with long, purposeful strides. Despite his tiredness and the fading light, he found himself gazing at one particular part of her anatomy, irrationally thrilled at the way the trouser bottoms were hugging her curves.
Oh dear, he thought. I really must get some decent rest tonight.
He watched as Julia sent the strong man away and laid a calming hand to her sister's shoulder. Julia said something to her and the younger woman looked over at him. She nodded once as Julia continued to speak to her, a smirk beginning to spread across her features. Then arm in arm the sisters left the shack and he was introduced to Ruby. Ruby held her hand out like a lady would and he felt obliged to take it. She seemed disappointed when he didn't kiss it.
Julia led them over to a hitching post, where two horses rested. Murdoch was not looking forward to another journey and his heart dropped. As if reading his mind Julia turned to him and said, "It's just a short ride. We'll be there in no time."
Because Julia wore trousers she was able to quickly mount her horse, again doing things like a man would. Ruby on the other hand was having difficulties hefting her heavy skirts onto the saddle. Seeing her dilemma, he came to her aid and gave her a little push. While well intentioned, his plan backfired and she went up and over the target and then proceeded to hang upside down, skirts in her face, failing around, desperately trying to free her caught boot but unable to bend far enough due to her rigid corset.
He caught Julia's eye and she tried to keep it in but then Ruby's boot released her foot and she fell on her head. Julia burst out laughing, marginally frightening her horse. Ruby told her off in an unladylike way while attempting to get herself upright again. Wanting to atone for his blunder, he assisted this endeavour to which she thanked him with a glare.
"My hair is ruined," she muttered.
And it was quite true. All of the carefully crafted curls were no more. He was going to apologize but she brushed past him and jumped at the poor horse. This time her anger gave her the strength to mount it on the first try.
Julia looked to him and said, "Well, get up here, William."
He handed up his bag first and then seeing that she wasn't planning on letting him take the reins, hesitantly took his place behind her. She smelled like her horse but he didn't seem to care.
"You might want to hold on," she said, the hint of a smirk in her voice. "I like to ride fast."
Murdoch lightly wrapped his arms around her small waist and was rewarded with the actual feel of her soft body! No skirt or corset! Curiouser and curiouser!
"I'd hold on tighter if I were you."
She didn't need to tell him twice once they took off down the darkened dirt road, Julia in the lead, guiding the way. He immediately lost his hat and it was immediately crushed by Ruby's horse. Somehow he doubted that this was an accident...
It was no matter; it felt good to have the warm summer air caress his scalp. It had been quite awhile since he had gone riding (bicycle or otherwise) without his trusty homburg for company. It was strange, but without it he often felt like an entirely different man, free from his usual restraint and propriety, as if the piece of fabric held mystical properties.
Ludicrousness.
This pleasant effect was quickly shattered when the wind shifted and Julia's hair continuously whacked him in the face.
"What brings you all the way out here?!" she yelled over the stampeding of her horses hooves.
He didn't really want to even attempt to answer that for three reasons. One: horse smelling hair would instantly end up in his mouth. Two: it was a somewhat sensitive topic to discuss. Third and most important in his mind: he thought she should be focusing all her attention on where they were headed! Murdoch could barely see a thing and had no idea how they hadn't lost their footing and toppled headlong to grievous injury.
"William?!"
"I'm sorry, Julia!" he shouted, spitting out bits of hair as he spoke, "but perhaps we could discuss that once we arrive at...wherever it is you are taking me!"
"We're headed to my ranch!" she returned, again throwing him for a loop.
"Your ranch!?" he exclaimed, unable to stop himself, almost choking on the large amount of hair that wilfully lodged itself down his throat.
She laughed. "Yes, William, my ranch!" There was a pause. "Considering everything you've seen about me so far, are you really so shocked?!"
"No, I suppose not!"
Who was this strange woman? And what had he gotten himself into this time?
As I'm sure is abundantly obvious, this entire fic was based on a scenario where Julia wouldn't have worn a corset...no actually, that is totally a lie...I was inspired by Red Dead Redemption. The lack of corset was just a happy coincidence.
Anyway, I'm not planning on making this an overtly romantic fic, so if that's what you're looking for, look elsewhere. That's not to say there won't be a little something something. ;)