Thunderstorms

by Romantic Nerd

Thunderstorms come sweeping though one's life from time to time. William and Julia must cope with a series of crises that threaten everything. They will need to solve multiple crimes and save their own necks under highly stressful situations. Fortunately they are incredibly strong when they work together.

2. Chapter 2

Thunderstorms – Continued

Chapter 2: Thursday, July 31, 1913

Constable Crabtree and Detective Murdoch sat together in a carriage headed for a crime scene. William's mind was stalled on his lonely night and the difficulties he'd been encountering sleeping without his wife. He worried that this case might hinder his ability to go visit her later today. George commented on the news that the Inspector had been telling them when the call of a body being found came in – there was to be a new detective to be trained by Murdoch – supposedly to work in a different stationhouse. George was skeptical about that, as stationhouse #4 had by far the most murder investigations of any of the stationhouses, and would therefore be the most likely to need a second detective. They speculated about any of the other detectives leaving. As the carriage pulled to a halt, George said, "Sir, I must admit … it stings to know that I would have been a detective and now I know I never will be."

"Never say never, George," the detective replied. Stepping out of the carriage, he continued, "Time has a way of making things that once seemed impossible possible … Look at myself and Dr. Ogden."

George followed the detective down towards the shore of the Lake Ontario. He sighed and agreed, "Yes sir, I see, but still, it does seem so unlikely."

The detective felt for the younger man, but he also knew that the choices he had made were made for noble reasons. "George," he said, "We all make choices in our lives. You and I have both made some that have cost us dearly, and yet, I truly believe that we both made the correct choices when it really mattered – the type of choices that reveal one's true character. I hope you do not regret yours."

The constable sighed and hesitated, seeing Constable Higgins up ahead and not wanting their conversation to be overheard, "Thank you sir, it helps to see things from the bigger picture – instead of getting bogged down in only the costs… I mean I do have Edna now … and I would not likely have kept her heart without …"

"She'd have loved you anyway George," Murdoch insisted, "But you acted from your love for her, not so that she would love you … They are related but not the same thing."

"Yes, I see," he replied. "The decision came from within rather than being motivated by things outside of myself … It is true I never felt so much love for another as when I took the blame … and I never felt so strong either," he reflected.

Murdoch faced forward and started walking again, signaling an end to their intimate conversation. He concluded, "Yes George, they say love conquers all – I guess for it to work though, you have to start with having the love."

Constable Higgins was waiting for them and joined as they continued their walk to the body that could be seen washed up on shore. He filled them in on what had been found so far. The body was found by some teenagers intending to go for an early morning swim. George mentioned that he had heard the area had a reputation for hosting – free swimming, "Au Natural."

For a brief moment, William's mind re-ran the image of Julia – naked – standing before himself and the Inspector after saving George's life at the nudist camp. He felt his face blush slightly and then chuckled at himself in his head, "I couldn't not look, although I surely tried… She was so gorgeous … I think that's why I booked the hotel room that night…" he shook his head in reaction to his own internal thoughts.

"Sir… Sir," Higgins pressed. The two constables shared a look.

Being pulled out of his inner fog, the detective startled slightly and said, "What else have you?" He scolded himself for being so easily distracted, "William – Focus!" he thought.

Higgins explained that the remains of a small boat that had partially sunk could be seen in the distance, pointing out into the lake. All three men shaded their eyes and peered out into the distance. No bodies were found in the boat. Murdoch told Higgins to call to get a crew to have the boat hauled in as it would likely need to be part of the investigation.

Upon investigating the body, it seemed there was a blow to the side of the head. There was no identification on the man. In his pockets Murdoch found some keys on a key chain that had the initials "ACA" engraved within a circle. "Perhaps his initials?" Murdoch speculated to George.

"Or it could be the initials of a place of employment?" George suggested. The carriage from the morgue arrived to take the body to stationhouse #3. "It's too bad Dr. Ogden can't help with this one, hey sir?" George asked, realizing he was bringing up a touchy subject after the words escaped his mouth.

Murdoch frowned and sighed, "Yes, I'll have to go over to stationhouse #3 later to get the results from Kingsley... And we'll have to come back later when they've pulled the boat ashore," he replied.

Later that afternoon, Detective Murdoch returned to examine the boat. It was clear that the boat's hull had experienced an explosion. Murdoch was quite intrigued to see that an entire layer within the hull consisted of an aluminum section that was hollow. In the back of the boat there was a machine that seemed to be an air compression tank and a dispenser. "Ah," he thought, "An inventor testing his invention. It's sort of like an anti-torpedo defense mechanism – Once the hole is blown in the side of the boat, the machine pumps pressurized air out through the hole, keeping the water out and stopping the boat from sinking. It seems it didn't work." Murdoch shook his head, he felt an akinship with a fellow inventor, and hated to see such a man's failure cost him his life. He imagined in his mind's eye, the torpedo hitting the hull of the boat, triggering the release of pressurized air. But the pressurized air not only blew out towards the water as planned, but it also burst into the boat itself – as the aluminum layer had been broken all the way through by the torpedo. The dead man likely was knocked to the ground by the blast of pressurized air, where he got the blow to the side of the head. Of course, before he could rule the man's death an accident due to a failed experiment, he would need to know who he was, and if there were others on board, and who he worked for. Inside the boat he found the plans for this "anti-torpedo" machine and some plans for other inventions - Most seemed to involve weapons or weapon defenses. He packed them up to bring back to the station. "I half expect Meyers to show up," he thought.

Back at the station, Murdoch studied the plans he had found on the boat. He noticed some of them had the same initials on them (ACA) – making it more likely that the key chain came from the victim's place of employment, or financial backer, than actually being the initials of his name. Higgins poked his head in the office and informed the detective that the coroner wouldn't be conducting the post-mortem until tomorrow morning. He instructed Higgins to send George to go to the morgue and get a photo of the victim. Murdoch sighed and thought, "Well, maybe Julia wouldn't have been able to do it first thing either." He tried to focus his attention back on the plans in front of him, but his mind drifted, having been allowed to think of his wife once again, it would be hard to pull it back. An old memory took center stage. It was of the first time he had visited Julia's morgue when she was playing a record on the Victrola. He remembered how enthralled he felt by her – her uniqueness, her joi de'vie. He recognized even now that he was already in love with her at the time. He took a deep breath, noticing the ache he felt from his missing her burn stronger when he exhaled. He forced himself to look back down and focus on the plans. The one he was currently studying consisted of means to arm dirigibles, or air ships, with guns and bombs to attack from the skies. Another was of something labeled a "battlefield light" that, when launched into the air by a cannon-like gun and then floating under a parachute, lit up so brightly that hiding enemy soldiers could be found.

The detective informed Inspector Brakenreid of what he knew so far. He suggested that talking to James Pendrick might be a good place to start, "Particularly the armed derigible plans might provide a connection – Pendrick was always interested in flight," he argued. "He might know something about the other plans too," the detective thought, keeping these to himself for now.

It turned out that Pendrick had no idea who could be wrapped up in the making of such weapons, but he sent Murdoch to Reginald Poundset, of all people. It had been many, many years since Murdoch had thought about Reginald Poundset – He had only known Julia a little over two years at the time. While riding in the carriage to Poundset's business, William re-played the memories of meeting Julia and "Reggie" in the park one night while he was with Enid Jones and her son Alwyn – And how he had been jealous even though it was unreasonable to be so – as he himself had started courting Enid before Julia had started seeing Poundset. In the end she wasn't even being courted by him – rather she was taking hot air balloon lessons from him. A smile covered William's face when he remembered jumping into the balloon to join Julia and see, "where the wind would take them." "My God, we went far," he thought, feeling grateful for the warm feelings pumping through him with the memory and with the focused awareness of how happy they had been together these so many years later.

Poundset was preparing for an upcoming balloon race. He was working on multiple balloons. He said a man had approached him with the idea of attaching guns to the balloon baskets and even dropping bombs from balloons. He had found the idea ludicrous. It's nearly impossible to steer a balloon sufficiently to line it up with one's chosen target, and further, the risk of having the helium ignite and explode was too high. He finished his point, saying, "And a hot air balloon would be nothing more than target practice for any guns on the ground."

Murdoch agreed. He asked if he would recognize the man if he saw a picture. Poundset thought so. He planned on sending George or another constable tomorrow once they had the photo.

Poundset asked after Julia. William tried to hide his pride when he told him they had married and were very happy. "Please give Julia my regards, and tell her I'm always around if she wants to have another ballooning adventure," he said.

William replied, "We have three children … Knowing Julia, she'll want to take you up on that offer, and she'll want to bring the children along too."

"They'll love it!" Poundset declared as they shook hands and William headed on his way.

On his way back to the station, he planned on stopping by to see the Toronto Harbor Master. The boat would be tied up with people on the docks – people he hadn't really had many dealings with since the investigation into the attacks on the Inspector back before he and Julia were married. William sighed as he looked at his watch. It was too late now – he would not be able to go see Julia. A pang of guilt jolted through his heart. She would miss visiting with him greatly and he knew it. "She might be worried too," he thought. Briefly he found himself remembering the look on her face when she saw him standing there, flowers in hand for yesterday's visit. Her vulnerability seemed to make his heart warm and expand, as if he could serve as a blanket to cover and comfort her. Their embrace was soft, but long, filled with strong emotions and the sharing of love and care that felt bigger than the two of them – somehow timeless and meant to be. Neither alone, ever, because of the other. He would bring the children for their first visit Saturday. Like himself, Katie was taking Julia's absence especially hard. Last night she had had another nightmare. He was already awake to hear her and go console her – finding it difficult to fall back asleep after his own round of bad dreams. The carriage arrived.

He spoke with Mr. Jeffries, the man who replaced Cecily McKinnon as Toronto Harbor Master after she was found guilty and jailed for ordering the hit on the Inspector, along with multiple other crimes. Jeffries said he would need a photo to determine if he had ever met the man performing the experiment on the boat. However, he sent Murdoch to a man that might know about constructing a boat with an inner layer of aluminum in the hull. Murdoch met with some success following up this lead. Assuming the man who requested the construction of such a boat was the same dead man washed up on shore (Murdoch did not yet have a photograph of the dead man to verify this for certain), then he paid with American money and he had a strange accent. He also found the place the boat was docked and from there, the boarding home of the dead man. There, Murdoch found the man's identity. His name was Agdar Flate. He was originally from Norway and had a visa to live in the USA. Murdoch found even more weapons plans at the man's residence.

When the detective got back to the station, he saw Meyers in the Inspector's office. He sighed and thought, "Of course… And where's Clegg – it seems the USA is involved too." He so wanted to look over the other plans before Meyers likely stole them away and closed the case for "national security." Although the Inspector had caught sight of him, there was no evidence Meyers knew he was back, so Murdoch slipped back out of the station and went into his office through the other door. Once inside he kept the lights off and hid in the backroom. In there, with the curtain drawn and the dim light illuminating the plans, he studied the other inventions mapped out before him. There were hand grenades, some with pins to be pulled and internal timers, other bombs seemed to be more like mines that could be detonated on contact or also, it seemed remotely, by an external signal – "Perhaps a radio signal," he thought. One that fascinated him was a horse-drawn cart that supplied water in which the micro-organisms had largely been killed by ultra-violet light, thus sterilizing the water.

Some of these plans had the same "ACA in a circle" symbol he had seen on the dead man's keychain and on some of the other plans. Now even more convinced that the mark signified a business, he would have to look into American ventures in weapons and military inventions etc. He figured, "One of the 'A's might represent the word "American." This would fit with the fact that the man paid with American money."

Murdoch collected all of the plans he had not specifically told the Inspector about and hid them in the backroom, suspecting Meyers would try to take them. He then exited the little room and turned on his office lights to sit at his desk. He called home to ask their nanny, Claire-Marie, to wait to put the children to bed. He was planning on heading home soon and wanted the opportunity to spend some time with them before they went to sleep.

Meyers and the Inspector knocked and entered his office as he was finishing up the call. The air between himself and Meyers had never been quite the same since when Meyers and Julia went undercover together as husband and wife to help collect valuable information from a captured spy in Russia a few years ago (Story: Anger and Jealousy). He had been terribly jealous and still found himself struggling to talk with the man without having his fingers curl up into fists. They said their hellos and immediately the Inspector informed Murdoch that Meyers had ordered the case of the dead man and his boat closed due to matters of national security. Murdoch dropped his eyes to his desk and shook his head. He was trying to think of a way to argue to keep the case.

Meyers found the plans Murdoch had laid out on his work table and gathered them up. "Now look here Murdoch, I'm sure you would do a great job with this – as always, but Canada needs this matter to be handled quietly. It is extremely delicate. We don't want word getting out about this man or any of the things he was working on," Meyers explained.

Murdoch sighed and said, lifting his eyes to boldly meet those of Meyers, "Particularly no one from the USA, I'm sure."

Meyers inhaled deeply on his cigar, stalling for time. His mind was racing. Once again, Murdoch had discovered way too much in way too little time to possibly have discovered it. "What do you know that connects the man to our neighbors to the south?" he asked.

Murdoch knew he had him. He knew Meyers would not be able to rest thinking that Murdoch might have figured something out that he would need to know. All he needed to do now was call his bluff. "Well it doesn't matter now does it? The case is closed. I suppose we'll let the coroner know not to bother with the post-mortem …"

Meyers took a seat and said, "Perhaps I made my decision in haste. There may be, yet, good reason to allow your local murder investigation to continue… Although your government must be informed of everything you find… and you must be discreet."

"Actually," Murdoch said as he stood from his chair and moved to get his hat, "I don't believe the man was murdered, so there is no need for a local murder investigation. I'm going to head home." Hat in hand, he turned to look at the Inspector and added, "As you know, my wife is no longer at home and I would like to take my leave. I hope to get back to the house before the children are to go to bed. Therefore, I bid you each goodnight." With that, the Inspector nodded goodnight, Meyers as well, and Murdoch took his leave.

Once Murdoch was out of earshot, Meyers asked, "My, my," taking another puff on his cigar, "I was under the impression that theirs was a storybook romance." Meyers glanced away, trying not to reveal too much about his inner thoughts, and walked towards the Inspector's office. He continued, "Now that Dr. Ogden … she's quite something – One hell of a catch if you ask me."

The Inspector was taken aback. It took him a moment, but finally he jumped into the conversation, "No. No, you've got it all wrong. They are still very much in love. It's just that she …" he said before his office door closed shut.

During the bicycle ride home, Williams's thoughts centered on remembering the late night Julia had returned home after her "mission" in Russia. His memory of the smell of Meyers' cigar smoke in her hair still incited anger in him. But he found it now mixed with a spark of arousal as he remembered kissing her and roughly questioning her, removing her clothing and coldly interrogating her more, and his head spun and his groin jolted with lustful stirrings as he remembered turning her around, pinning her against the wall with her backside vulnerable and exposed to him and asking harshly if Meyers had been aware of her lustful, stimulating dreams while he lay in the same bed with her. William's body twitched as he remembered powerfully penetrating her and having his way with her. As he rounded the last corner before arriving at their home, he consciously made an effort to remember a more tender time – guilt still accompanying the memory of that night.

There it was – warm, soft, delicious … It was the last night they had been together, a mere four days ago that felt like an eternity. They had shared a hot shower. The memory quickly set his mind to spinning. They were locked in each other's arms with the sound of the spraying water rumbling overhead, the moist steam filling their lungs, and the taste of the water as it mixed with Julia's skin flowing over his tongue as he kissed and sucked on her. She had said huskily in his ear, "Closer." He had backed her up against the wall of the shower and firmly slid inside of her. His body reacted to the thought, taking his breath. He had asked, with his voice deep and lust-filled, "Is this close enough?" before he began the rhythmical, deep pumping that set the beat for their lovemaking. He had felt Julia drop, weakening in his arms, and then whispering in his ear, flipping his brain over and surging him forcefully forward into her, "Closer… even closer." His control had erupted. An urgent demand to push deeper and deeper into her had taken over. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he penetrated far enough inside of her to touch the spot that housed the very center of her being. Like a magnet finally concluding its voyage to click with another, their connection ignited a deep, fulfilling completion. His imaginings of the memory of her moan as they had reached ecstasy weakened his knees and flooded his heart with joy. William sighed as he dismounted from the bicycle and carried it up the steps to leave it on the porch. He was home now – she was not.

He turned the key in the door and entered, pausing to hang his hat. William Jr. (8 years) and Katie (7 years) rounded the corner at rapid speed to dive and jump on him. Within moments they were both lifted off of the ground, held tight in his arms. "Oh, I missed you," William said, giving them each a kiss and firm squeeze.

Claire-Marie was holding the youngest, Chelsea (5 years), as she rounded the corner to join them in the foyer. "This little one is very sleepy," she said. Chelsea reached her arms out towards William indicating that she wanted him to take her.

William lowered the other two children to the ground and said, "Where's my littlest girl?" as he took Chelsea into his arms, kissing her and hugging her while swaying to create a quick rocking motion.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Katie said, "Claire-Marie has been helping us make cards for Mommy!"

William Jr. took his father's hand and started to drag him into the parlor. "Come see," he exclaimed.

William gave Claire-Marie and appreciative look and said, "Thank you so much Claire-Marie. You've really been a godsend through all of this. I've got it now, please go and enjoy the rest of your night."

She nodded and said, "Eloise made you a plate for dinner. Shall I heat it up for you?"

"No. No," he answered, "I'll get it after the children are asleep."

The coffee table between the couches and chairs was covered in papers and crayons. Each child quickly gathered up their creations to show off to their father. With Chelsea on his lap, and the other two children cuddled up against either side of him he exclaimed and praised their hard work. "Oh, your mother is going to love this," he said. "She's going to keep these forever, I bet," he concluded. "I brought home a camera – Tomorrow morning let's take a picture of each of you. I'll develop them and we can put a photo inside each card!" he explained.

The children bounced with glee, "Yay! Yes Daddy!" they exclaimed.

William Jr. asked, "Are you going to make a card for Mommy too?"

"Do you think she would like it?" he asked his son.

The boy nodded, "Yes Daddy," he replied.

William leaned forward and began choosing paper to use to make his card and answered, "Then I will. I'll make it after all of you are asleep."

Katie added, "You should put a photograph in your card too, Daddy."

"Great idea, Sweetie!" he agreed. "Now, it's way past your bedtime so…" he started to say.

"No. Please Daddy, No!" they all cried.

"Yes. Yes… I see you are already in your pajamas but did you brush your teeth?" he asked. Chelsea, still sitting on his lap started to shake her head 'no' but her bigger sister gave her a look demanding her silence. "Hmm," William said, "I think I'll need to check those teeth to see if they look clean," reaching over to open Chelsea's mouth.

"Run!" William Jr. exclaimed. Instantly children darted in all directions. Choosing to go after the instigator first, William took off after his son. He caught him quickly, first disarming him with a rampage of tickling, then playfully demanding, "Let me see those teeth young man!" The game was afoot and the rough-housing and giggling took much more time than their mother would ever have allowed if she were home. Finally William had the children tucked into their beds and quiet enough to feel sleepy.

He decided to work out with some weights and then take a shower. He readied for bed, dressing in his pajamas, and then went down into the kitchen to eat the dinner Eloise had prepared for him. His mind moved to considering what he would write in Julia's card. He imagined her sitting beside him at the table. She reached over to take his chin with her fingers and turn his face to meet hers. Even in his imaginings he found himself stunned by her beauty and its effect on him. His breath caught with the image. "How are you, William – really?" she would have asked. It was his answer to her that he would write in his card. He went into the other room and wrote the note. It was quick and to the point. He folded the paper and tucked it into an envelope. Writing Julia's name on the envelope it struck him how very much he missed her – the ache burning him so. He sighed. "I can't concentrate at work either. I'm going to have to get a handle on this," he thought.

Dreading trying to sleep, he headed upstairs. He stood staring at the empty bed. It almost seemed like a waste of time to even try to sleep in the bed without Julia – He already knew he was going to end up downstairs on the couch anyway. He pulled the sheet down and climbed in. It was hot, prompting him to leave the sheets wrinkled down at the bottom of the bed. He turned out the light and lay in the bed.

He realized he had managed to fall asleep only when he was awakened by a dream – a nightmare really. They had taken their three children to the lake-house. They had set up a picnic down by the shore of the lake. He and Julia were sitting together on the picnic blanket watching the children play. They had built a "fort" and were using some of William Jr.'s little toy soldiers to play at attacking and defending the fort. William Jr. was in the water using a boat to pretend part of the attack was coming from the water. Julia turned to look at William, arousal in her eyes. She stroked his chest and then pushed him down on the blanket. She kissed him. He immediately felt his body rise to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him. A woman called from somewhere behind them. Julia stopped their kiss and looked into the distance after the voice. "I'll be right back," she said, standing and walking in the direction of the call. William remained on the blanket, propped up on an elbow watching the game the children were playing. A butterfly flew past him and landed on the fort near Katie. She screamed and called for help. William ran to her and scooped her up into his arms. Soon William Jr. also stood by his side with Chelsea. Everyone tried to convince Katie that the butterfly would not hurt her, but she was hysterical and having trouble getting control of herself. William put her down and softly, calmly caught the butterfly, leading the young girl to take a deep breath and calm down. Just as he opened his hands to show Katie that it was harmless, William Jr. called out, "Mommy!" and ran towards the water. William turned and saw her there, floating face down in the shallow water, her curls and dress flapping in the waves. His heart pounded so that it felt as if it would explode out of his chest. He ran so fast to her that he arrived before William Jr. and stopped the boy from coming any closer. Dread dripping in his core, he turned the body over … It was Julia! She was gone! He pulled her up to his chest, cloaking her in his arms, and sobbed. The wrenching woke him – chest drowned in sweat, tears pouring down his cheeks. He sat up in the bed– fought to catch his breath… Fought to grasp reality – To reassure himself that it wasn't real. He looked to see Julia in the bed beside him, but of course, she wasn't there. Then the pain of missing her hit – and it hit hard.

William imagined what Julia would say if she were there to soothe him. Placing his feet on the floor, sensing that it would help ground him, he talked himself through the feelings. "It was just a dream. And it makes sense that you would dream such things. In some ways you really have lost Julia, and you are struggling with this. Not to mention that your son is the same age you were when your mother died – and you found your mother face down in the shallow water of the lake, like in the dream. Having empathy with 8-year-old William Jr. means I'm more likely to see the world as if through his eyes – and seeing the world through an 8-year-old's eyes is likely to trigger memories of that time in my life … Yes, I know this." William heard himself sigh. He thought, "Perhaps I would do better down on …"

From down the hall he heard Katie scream out. He ran to her, knowing she was having a nightmare again. She was already standing and nearly hyperventilating, tears drenching her cheeks, when he opened the door and lifted her into his arms. "You're alright sweetie… It's O.K. It was just a dream honey," he said tenderly in her ear. William noticed Chelsea was sitting up and he calmly told her, "Everything's fine – Your sister just had a bad dream. I'll take care of her. You go on back to sleep." He carried Katie out of the room.

As he passed William Jr.'s room he opened the door to see if the boy had been awakened by the commotion. "Is she alright, Dad?" William Jr. asked from the dark.

"Yes son, she'll be fine. Go on back to sleep," he said, noticing how touched he felt by his son's concern for his sister. Katie was crying and whimpering in his arms as he carried her downstairs and sat her down on the kitchen counter. "Let's make some hot chocolate, hmm?" he said, already taking out the pot and the milk.

Katie wiped her nose and sniffled, then shook her head.

"It will be such a treat to have hot chocolate in the middle of the night," William continued, figuring he would be doing most of the talking at first. He and his daughter sat at the kitchen table, sipping on their hot chocolate, talking. William didn't want to start her crying again, but he knew she would need to share about her dream if she was to have any chance of stopping the nightly bad dreams. "Was it the same dream as the other times?" he asked. She nodded yes. "You found Mommy dead on the floor?" he continued. Katie nodded yes more slowly. "Take a deep breath, sweetie," he advised leaning down closer to her. He waited as she did so. "Katie, do you remember your Mommy and Daddy before us?" he asked sounding as calm as possible.

"Yes," she replied, voice quiet and eyes down.

"You were four years old when you went to the orphanage… Chelsea was two… Remember?" She nodded. "Sweetie, your first Mommy and Daddy, they loved you very, very much," he started. He noticed Katie's face wrinkled in pain and the tears gently began to well up and then glide down her face.

"They died," she said, barely above a whisper.

"I know," he answered. He pulled her into his lap. Warmly he wiped away some of her tears. "I know," he said again blanketing her in a hug.

He held her. After a time he said, "You know, when I was a boy, the same age as William Jr. is right now, my mother died too."

"She did?" Katie asked, looking him in the eye for the first time.

"Yes," William continued, "And I found her after she had died. She was floating in the water."

Katie's face showed her distress, flushing red, wrinkling with pain and glistening with tears. Her voice strained through the swelling in her throat, as she said, "I found my Mommy too." She held her father's eyes, allowing the pain to flow between them.

"I'm so sorry that happened," William said. Katie sniffled again, brushed away a tear, and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. William used the sleeve of his pajamas to better dry her face and wipe her nose. He pushed on, "But your Mommy and me, now, we love you more than anything…"

She shook her head, seeming comforted for a moment… before the pain flooded over her again and she cried out, "But what if you and Mommy die too!" The little one crumpled into sobs in his arms.

"No, no, no. Your Mommy and me aren't going to die," William said, rocking her soothingly, knowing in his heart there was no way he could make such a promise, but certain that it was the only thing he could say that would bring her peace. "We're going to be here with you for a long, long time – until you're all grown up. Your Mommy and me, we're going to love you forever," he vowed.

"But what if you die, will we have to go back to the orphanage, us and William Jr.?" she asked, worry enveloping her face, eyes demanding sincerity from her father in a way only one so innocent can.

"No, honey. First off, we're not going to die, but if that happened, you would all go live with Aunt Ruby, or maybe Uncle Jasper, but definitely not to an orphanage," he tried to explain as reassuringly as possible. "You know how very much Aunt Ruby and Uncle Jasper love you?"

She nodded. A moment passed and they each finished their hot chocolate. "Do you think Mommy will come home soon?" she asked.

William sighed. He didn't know the answer to that question. And he had his fill of making risky promises as well. "I don't know. I sure hope so though, I miss her so much," he replied.

"Me too," Katie's little voice echoed.

"I know you do," he said, giving her a squeeze. "We're going to go see her the day after tomorrow, hmm?" he said, trying to rouse some happiness in her. "And I think, besides the cards and the photos, we should bring some roses too. What do you think?" he asked.

"Can they be pink ones, Daddy?" she asked, sounding excited.

"Yep, your Mommy sure does love pink roses," William said, as he stood from the table with his daughter still in his arms. He put the cups in the sink and carried her to the door, and turned off the light. As he carried her up the stairs he hummed a song. Her breathing was deeper, calmer. He tucked her in and gave her a kiss. "Goodnight my beautiful girl," he said. It was dark, but he was sure she smiled.

Once again standing before the empty bed, he decided to accept his fate and gathered up some pillows and sheets and went downstairs to sleep on the couch. Exhaustion took its toll and he fell off quickly to sleep, benefitting from the fact that, when sleeping on the couch, it was normal to be alone. At some point before dawn, William was awakened from a dream – a quite pleasurable one this time. He was making love to Julia during a thunderstorm. The flickering lightning glistening her supple skin and illuminating her lustrous curves as she moved on top of him, straddling him – The thunder pounding them forward towards their climax. His breath still rushed and his heart still racing, he slowly accepted the reality that took hold as the sleepy fogginess in his head dissipated. Still grateful for the pleasurable sensations of the dream, the ache grew more and more as his heart-rate returned to normal, as he came to recognize that he was alone on the couch, that it was Friday and he had to get up and go to work, and that his lover, the love of his life, would not be with him any time soon, and worst of all – and this prodded his aching to border on agony, that she was suffering without him as well.

William released a big sigh. He needed to clean up, so he went into the downstairs bathroom and washed off the remnants of the dream. Relieved to know that he likely had another hour until he had to rise for the day, he tucked himself back into his cozy pile of pillows and sheets and dropped off to slumber once more.

The turning of the keys in the front door drew him out of sleep. Eloise closed the front door and started towards the kitchen when William called out, "Good morning Eloise. Aren't you a bit early this morning?"

She turned to behold the uncommon sight of the master of the house in his pajamas and having slept on the couch. Confusion covered her face as she thought, "I know he sometimes is sent to the couch when they quarrel, but the mistress is not even home… Why is he…"

William felt pressed to explain, "I uh … I am finding it difficult to sleep in our bed alone," he said.

Eloise could not help but hear his suffering in his words. Truth be told, she'd always had a big soft spot for the man, even when he was courting her mistress inappropriately, as she was a married woman at the time. She felt he held a unique respect for her, that in many ways he looked up to her – "Not quite like a mother figure, maybe more like an aunt," she thought. Her care for him now set her heart afire with a sad warmth for him. She so admired the love he felt for Miss Julia, and she was amazed at his devotion to their children. She knew he had suffered so very much at times – she had attended Dr. Ogden's trial, cried as she watched her be sentenced to hang – and noticed the detective nearly fall apart when hearing the news. Oh, how she wished she could find a way to comfort him now. "Yes, I'm sure you must miss her terribly…" she said, still trying to think of more soothing words. The sounds of little bare feet running down the hall upstairs pulled both of them to lift their eyes to the ceiling. "As do they …" she continued, "Thank goodness you have each other to help with the pain," she added. The children called out, "Daddy?" and could be heard charging down the stairs.

William's face revealed his most severe suffering and he said, "Yes, but Julia … she is alone."

The children rounded the corner at the half-way point on the stairs and caught sight of Eloise. "Eloise!" William Jr. called out, "You're here!" he said, just as he reached her and wrapped his arms around her to squeeze her in a hug.

She looked into the parlor, prompting the children to see that their father was home and on the couch, "Yes. Now go give your father his good-morning hug." Each child gave Eloise a hug before running to pounce upon their father, bursting into giggles of joy and play as he tossed them around and tickled them. Eloise helped William get the children washed up and dressed because Claire-Marie was taking the morning off.

The children played in the playroom in the basement while William dressed for work and Eloise prepared breakfast. William hurried to set up the camera in front of the couch and photographed each child for the pictures to be placed inside Julia's cards. William taught William Jr. how to use the camera so that there would be a photograph of William to put in his card for her too. Eloise reminded William and William Jr. that Dr. Tash was taking William Jr. to the Club this afternoon for a swimming lesson.

"I can't wait to see my picture Daddy," Chelsea said.

William swallowed his mouthful and said, "I'll be bringing them home tonight. I'm sure you will look beautiful, my little one." Chelsea rocked her head back and forth as she scooped up some more eggs, showing her delight with having her father compliment her so.

William Jr. put his fork down and asked, "Dad, how do you write good things? My card only says that I love Mommy and miss her."

William swallowed and put his fork down to take a sip of his tea and then replied, "Well, first off son, what you already wrote is good because it tells Mommy how you feel – and that's really the point of writing the card. Now, if you want to write something a little more powerful, well then you'll need to really sit and think for a while about how you are feeling. You need to go someplace quiet and really reflect – look in at yourself, and then describe what you see. You can describe thoughts you have, or ways your body feels, for instance."

Resuming the eating of his meal, William Jr. picked up his fork once again and asked, "Is that what you did for Mommy's card?" William nodded. "Can you read it to us?" he pushed.

William sighed. He was trying to remember what he had written and whether or not it would be appropriate for the children to hear. "Yes, I guess that would be alright. Go get it – It's on the coffee table," he said.

William Jr. quickly brought the card. William read it aloud, everybody seemed quite interested, even Eloise:

"I would not be being truthful if I said I am fine without you, for I am not. It seems that you are so intertwined with every aspect of my life, every part of myself, that I cannot listen to someone speak without a memory of you being called up in my mind; I cannot look upon an object without seeing your face at some time or another as you interacted with such a thing; I cannot smell a smell without finding my attention drawn to a time I inhaled such a scent with you; there seems to be no sound that does not remind me of hearing it with you by my side; not even a taste that stands alone, as I find my tongue, too, is connected to countless memories I've shared with you. When we are apart, I seem to live in the past, finding my life only in my memories, or perhaps in the future, as I long to be with you once again. Without you, I have lost my present, my here and now, like a boat with no anchor, ungrounded and adrift in a dense fog. I find there is nothing I can do but wait it out until I can be with you again. It seems that only then can I be truly alive – as it is when we are together that we stand in the present and make memories and make plans for the future. Only with you am I grounded and firmly in the world as opposed to somehow outside of it. Yes, my love, it is true, only with you, am I fine."

William felt concern that the children might feel hurt and worried by his not feeling "fine" with them. "When I wrote this last night I was missing Mommy a lot. And I think I forgot something that's important to remember and for you all to know… I love you so much that I find that, when I'm with you I am able to be in the present moment. You all make me so very happy and I love you so very, very much that it helps me feel better about missing Mommy," William explained to his children.

"Us too!" Chelsea declared. William stood up and lifted Chelsea into a hug and said, "I'm so glad!" Chairs flew and suddenly William found himself locked in the center of a big family hug. He kneeled down, making room for all three children to be wrapped in his arms. He didn't see it but Eloise was choked up as she watched the whole scene.

After a moment he said, "Now, I need to get going. I'm already going to be late… Eloise, I can't thank you enough for that delicious breakfast and for being here to care for us so very well." As he rose from his squatted position and looked her in the eye, he recognized her emotional reaction to … well, truth be told, he wasn't completely sure what touched her so, but he was touched that she was touched. Holding the eye contact tightly, he bowed to her slightly, "Thank you," he said, followed by one of his winning smiles.

Looking slightly embarrassed, she looked away and then back and replied, "You are very welcome," showering him with one of her brightest smiles as well.

With that, William prepared to take his leave. As he said good-bye to William Jr. he said, "Just tell your mother what it is feeling like to miss her, hmm?" The boy replied, "Thanks Dad," and they shared one more quick hug.

He propped his bicycle up against the wall of the station and bundled up the camera and the flowers he had bought for his visit to see Julia later. He picked up his messages and headed for his office. Constables Crabtree and Higgins exchanged their good-mornings with him and asked how it was going caring for the three children without their mother being home. William dropped his eyes away from theirs and sighed. He wrinkled up his mouth, appearing to admit to having troubles. "She is missed," was all he said. He stood up taller, giving off an air of confidence and changed the subject, "George, did you get the photo of our dead man yesterday?" he asked.

George proudly opened up a folder on his desk and pulled out a bunch of copies he'd made of the photo, saying, "Yes sir, developed and multiple copies." He handed the detective the photographs.

"Wonderful," Murdoch said, "Your photography skills have gotten quite good George," he added. "I'll need one of you to take this photograph to Reginald Poundset to verify if this is the man he told me about yesterday."

George seemed to search his memory. He asked, "That name sounds quite familiar sir…"

"I guess it should, George. You, um … investigated the man for me many years ago … for … personal reasons…" Murdoch said uncomfortably.

"Oh yes, I remember … you were … pining and …"

"That's right George," Murdoch interrupted, attempting to stop George from drawing much attention to something he was embarrassed about.

"Reginald Poundset … He was the one with the hot air balloons …"

"Yes George. He still is. He is preparing for a balloon race in a few weeks. A man approached him about …" Murdoch suddenly realized that he didn't want it known what he was working on – Supposedly the case had been closed. He signaled to the two men towards his office and walked into the office, hanging his hat and turning on the light.

The Inspector looked up and saw them. He called out, "Murdoch!"

Murdoch quickly filled them in on the dead man's tie to military weapons and that Poundset had been approached by a man wanting to arm balloons with weapons. "Take the main road towards Kingston and you'll find the balloons about 45 minutes out of Toronto on the right," he instructed. "Also, show the photo around the docks. I found out his name. It's Agdar Flate, Norwegian. Someone might recognize him…" Murdoch still had more to say but…

"Murdoch!" the Inspector bellowed impatiently.

Murdoch walked a step towards the door and continued, "Henry, I need a list of American companies that specialize in weapons, like bombs and submarines, that have the initials "ACA" – and I think one of the 'A's will be "America" or "American" …" He walked another step, now at the threshold, and added, close to a whisper, "And keep it quiet … the case has been closed by Meyers." Murdoch hurried into the Inspector's office.

The Inspector indicated that he wanted Murdoch to stay on the case – That he sensed Meyers did too, even though he did not say so. He had never cancelled the post-mortem and the coroner at stationhouse #3 should be doing it as they spoke.

"Very good sir," Murdoch said with a nod and turned to leave.

"Uh, Murdoch, I'd like to know about the other plans you found as well," the Inspector said.

With his back to the Inspector, Murdoch looked both caught by, and surprised at, the older man's insight. Murdoch took a deep breath and turned back to him. "Would you like to see them or have me describe them to you?" he asked.

"Oh Murdoch, you are a sneaky bugger sometimes aren't you?" the Inspector said with a big smile on his face. "Keep them hidden and fill me in," he decided. Murdoch told the Inspector everything he knew.

Developing the pictures with the curtain closed in the backroom, Murdoch was almost finished, only Chelsea's photo to go. He hung the photo of Katie up to dry. Suddenly the curtain was thrown open and light poured into the room. "What the devil…" Murdoch called out. "Meyers! It's you!" he said, still sounding surprised.

The Inspector came charging in behind Meyers. "Mr. Meyers, you have no right to barge in on my detective like this," he barked. The Inspector searched the table Murdoch was working at with his glance. Murdoch figured he was looking for the plans they had discussed earlier.

"It's quite alright sir," Murdoch said calmly. "It's just that he could have ruined the photo-making process and I might have had it to do all over again. But no harm done – I was not at a stage that is light sensitive," he explained.

Meyers looked disappointed, indicating to Murdoch that Meyers also suspected Murdoch was examining hidden plans – That he knew Murdoch likely had such plans. "Sorry Murdoch," he said, taking a puff on his cigar, "I didn't even know for sure you were in here… I was looking for you to …"

"Yes, what is it you want Meyers?" Murdoch asked.

Meyers stalled for time, taking note of the photos. "This handsome young boy – He is the one you and the good doctor did not adopt, is that right?" he asked.

Murdoch was not quite sure why he felt so irritated by the question, perhaps because it annoyed him that Meyers knew so much about his private life, or that he didn't like to think that their own son was any more valuable than their two adopted daughters, but whatever the reason, he felt his jaw clench with anger. "What is it you want Meyers?" he asked again.

Meyers inhaled his cigar once more, then looking for a place to flick the ashes. Murdoch frowned and offered him a cup. "Well Murdoch, I believe your country needs to know why you think the U.S. of A is involved with the case of the dead man and the boat. Did you find something on the boat?" he asked.

"Yes," replied Murdoch, turning his attention back to the negatives and readying to complete the last photograph. He said, "I found the plans you took off of my work station yesterday."

"Now Murdoch, I know there is more to it than that. I checked those plans myself. There is nothing there to suggest the man was from the USA," he insisted.

Murdoch somewhat smugly said, "I did not say that the man was from America … Although I suppose you have reason to believe he was."

Meyers appeared to decide that Murdoch had some new information and he was not happy with having him get more without including Meyers in it. He sighed and said, "Look Murdoch, I'll give you what information that I can … There are limits to what I can tell you in the interest of …"

Both the Inspector and Murdoch finished, "Of national security."

"Yes," Meyers said. "The man was from the USA, yes. He was working on weapons – weapons to be used in war. The world is in a great deal of unrest. The winds of war are picking up. Canada would like to be the one with his inventions – like the boat he was working on… What did you make of that Murdoch?" Meyers asked.

"It was a means of surviving a torpedo hit," Murdoch answered.

"Ah yes, that's what I thought… Brilliant idea." Meyers stated.

Murdoch looked Meyers in the eye and said, deciding to help the man at least with this piece of information. He explained, "On paper, I guess. But it was flawed – the torpedo is too likely to blast through the aluminum layer meant to contain the pressurized air, among other problems."

"Whatever you say Murdoch. I'll take your word for it that this plan was no good, but there is reason to believe he had many others that would yield an advantage," Meyers pushed.

Murdoch looked at the Inspector.

"Go ahead and tell him Murdoch," the Inspector decided. Murdoch informed Meyers of the other plans and that he had identified the man as Agdar Flate.

Right before he took his leave, Meyers said, "Oh, and Murdoch, I wanted to say that I was sorry to hear about Julia's … misfortune."

William felt his body twitch hearing Meyers call his wife by her given name. It was too familiar, and jealousy erupted within him again. His fingers tightened into fists. He took a deep breath to fight back the emotion. "My wife is greatly missed," he said, drawing attention to their marital relationship, to push the man back.

"Yes," Meyers said, extinguishing his cigar in Murdoch's cup. "Quite a lovely family," he said, once again focusing on the photos of William Jr., Katie, and Murdoch. He continued, "Well, I am sorry to hear about such troubles," and with that he nodded good-bye and headed out.

William finished developing Chelsea's photo. He then went to stationhouse #3 to get Kingsley's post-mortem results – finding death due to the blow to the head, with wood and aluminum in the wound, suggesting accident due to failed experiment rather than murder.

Higgins gave him the list of American weapons companies with the initials "ACA" that worked on weapons. William figured the most likely one to be related to Flate, who came from Norway, was the Aasen Corporation of America in Wisconsin because its founder, Niels Aasen, was Norwegian. He sent Higgins to investigate any connections between Flate and the company.

Constable Crabtree returned with interesting news from Poundset after showing him the photo of Flate– the man who had inquired about arming hot air balloons with weapons was not Flate. However, the man spoke with an Irish accent and he had a scar under his right eye. Thinking the man's Irish accent suggested that he would be Catholic, William took the description to his own church and then two other local Catholic churches. One of them led him to the docks, where a man with a scar under his right eye and with an Irish accent was believed to live and work. William went to Jeffries, the Toronto Harbor Master, with the description. Jeffries denied knowing the man but Murdoch sensed he was frightened and pushed. Finally Jeffries admitted he had seen the man at a local brothel. He gave him the name of a call girl he knew he frequently visited – Jane.

The clerk at the front desk of the 'motel' told the detective that there might be a man meeting that description that came there, but he couldn't say for sure. He told him that Jane was in. The same clerk quickly called up to Jane's room right after Murdoch was out of earshot. "Tell Brogan there's a detective heading up there right now," he warned into the phone.

William knocked. A woman's voice called, "Come in." William opened the door to see a young woman wearing only bloomers. She gave William a look up and down his body, "Well hello there gorgeous," she said and turned her back to him, then seductively pulling down her bloomers.

William felt a jolt through his body – surging with both lust and discomfort. "I'm afraid you have the wrong idea," he said, "I'm married … and I'm here on police business."

She approached him, stopping very close to him and playing with his tie, then opening his jacket to stroke his badge. "Oh good-looking, I don't have the wrong idea. No sir, I'm sure I can make you forget all about that wife," she said. She stood on her toes and kissed his lips.

William pushed her back. "Click," he heard as he felt the metal poke against the back of his head. The sound was definitely that of a gun being cocked.

The woman kissed him again, this time biting his lower lip. "Oh, I like this one. Let me play with him for a while first," the woman said to the man behind William with the gun. William considered his options. The woman slid her hands down his chest to his stomach and pushed her tongue to his lips. The gun jerked harder against his head. Her hands slid down to his trousers, brushing against his groin. "Oh yes, you do like it," she slyly said. William began to turn as he swung his leg back to try to trip the man behind him as he pushed back against him. The last thing he remembered was thinking that the immense pain he felt on the back of his head was not accompanied by the sound of a shot, so he would probably live.

Oh, his head hurt. "William!" Julia called out as she rolled him over onto his back. Katie was crying behind her. He wanted to say, "I'm sorry," but he couldn't get the words out. "Maybe it's a dream," he thought, "I promised not to die."

William was woken up by Alan Clegg. Although he still felt foggy, he could tell Clegg was complaining about his presence here. Clegg insisted, "Meyers told me he had closed this case Murdoch! What are you doing here?!"

Rubbing his head and trying to stabilize his stance, William replied, "Meyers closed the Flate case. I'm on different case – looking for a man who wanted to arm hot air balloons with guns and bombs. Clegg demanded they return to the station and he speak with both Meyers and the Inspector.

In the carriage ride back to the station William checked the time on his pocket watch. It was too late for him to be able to visit Julia. A surge of regret flowed through him. He so wanted to see her, having missed visiting yesterday. He sighed and rubbed his head.

"In a hurry?" Clegg asked.

William had come to be somewhat fond of Meyers, despite his roused jealousy as a result of Meyers' having spent a month pretending to be Julia's husband, but he had never been able to develop such feelings for Clegg. He did not like the man. He decided not to answer him. William's mind flowed back to its usual place – Julia. He had bought her flowers. He sighed again. Hopefully he would at least be able to get home in time to tuck the children into bed.

Back at the station Meyers and Clegg argued over whether or not Murdoch could work on the case. Clegg wanted Flate's body, claiming he was American. He pushed Meyers about giving up "the plans" Murdoch had found. And he insisted that the Irish man with the scar Murdoch was looking for was to be left alone as he was an American spy working under cover. Meyers, for his part, argued that these people and plans, etc. were in Canada, and the Canadian government and officials, like himself and Murdoch, therefore had a right to investigate any and all of it. Further, this was a murder investigation. William stayed quiet about the fact that Flate was not murdered. The two men never came to agree, but Murdoch agreed to tread softly on his investigation into the "Irish man with the scar," as he was forced to call him because Clegg would not reveal his spy's "name." Murdoch never admitted to having found any plans.

The last thing William did before heading home was to call over Jackson and Crabtree. They agreed to help him try to find the Irish man with the scar at the Catholic church where he had been recognized this Sunday. They would each attend a different mass.

"Show us again, sir," George requested.

His sigh indicated that William was becoming frustrated. He slowly moved through the motions of making the sign of the cross once more. Jackson got the order right but held his hand in a rigid fist, while George constantly went to a shoulder before he went to his stomach. "Jackson, touch your thumb to your fist two fingers like this – Imagine you dipped them in water and you are dabbing it on each of the four points… Better. Now, Jackson, you teach George. I'm going home," William instructed.

"But sir, what about the mother, the father and the holy … what is it, ghost or spirit?" George asked.

"Just mumble quietly," William said.

He checked to make sure he had the photos in his pocket and he took the flowers. Then he grabbed his hat and hurried to his bicycle to get home. Images of the woman, Jane, kept invading his thoughts. Much to his shame, he had been aroused by her. He couldn't shake the feeling that it felt like a betrayal to Julia. That, added to the fact that he had not been able to visit her for the past two days in a row, was filling him with guilt. He tried to remember the dream he had had this morning about making love with Julia, hoping it would remind him of how lovely it felt to be in love with her. Bang, crash, and flickering light drenching her skin – Yes, there it was. They made love during a thunderstorm. Now he remembered. He felt better.

Voices could be heard upstairs, the children were still awake. He brought the flowers and photos with him to show them and he hurried up the stairs. Once he was spotted, the children ran and jumped into his arms. "Daddy! You're home!" they exclaimed.

"Thanks Claire-Marie," William said. Then he stood up and looked down at his children. "Did everybody finish brushing their teeth?" he asked. They all had, except Chelsea had spit out the toothpaste and run to him before she was finished. He told William Jr. and Katie to head back downstairs and pull out their cards for their mother. He stayed up to help Chelsea finish up. Claire-Marie said goodnight.

William put the flowers down on the coffee table and gave each child their own photo. They admired each other's pictures and then tucked them into the cards. Katie asked about the red roses her father had brought home. "Oh, those were for your mother, but I got tied up at work and couldn't go visit her today," he explained. "I thought you and Chelsea might want them," he added, offering the bouquet to his little daughter.

"Oh yes Daddy!" she said excitedly. She smelled them and then placed them in her sister's face to let her smell them too. "Don't they smell good Chelsea?" she asked. Chelsea nodded. Then an idea hit her. "Daddy?" she asked, "Can we use the petals to glue them into Mommy's cards? They will look and smell so delightful!"

William couldn't help but smile. He marveled at how much their children sometimes reminded him of Julia or himself. "Delightful," he thought, "She is certainly her mother's daughter." "Now that is a wonderful idea," he said. "I think you will need some special glue. I have some downstairs." The cards looked and smelled beautiful.

The children began to head upstairs to get tucked into bed. After the two girls were out of the room, William Jr. asked his dad to read what he had written to his mother. It said, "Mom, I miss you so that when I breathe it hurts. It feels like I won't be able to breathe again until you get home. And, when I try to fall asleep, you are the last thing I think of before my mind slips into the dark. And then you are the first thing I think of when I wake up. I worry about you missing us too. I know you do. Does it hurt when you breathe too? Your son, William Jr."

William closed the card and handed it to his son. "Yes, you have said it very well. Your mother will know exactly how you feel. You have opened up and shown how much you miss her. She will know. She will love it," he shared.

The young boy smiled. "Thanks Dad," he said, wrapping his arms around him for a hug.

"O.K., up to bed… where you will have those last thoughts of your mother, just like me," William said, standing.

"Does that happen to you too?" William Jr. asked as they headed up the stairs.

"Yes, son, Yes it does," William said.

Later that night William woke up after having had another dream where Julia's body was floating in the water again. He got up and took a hot shower, hoping it would soothe him. Memories of their making love in the shower flowed over him along with the hot water. "Bittersweet," he thought, "So wonderful and at the same time so painful to lose." Somewhat more relaxed and comforted, William crawled back into bed. Images of Julia trying to sleep in a small, secluded bed, tossing and turning, alone, played in his mind as he tried once more to fall asleep. He felt his eyes swell up, he swallowed to chase the feeling away. How it broke his heart to think of her suffering so. He imagined kissing her goodnight. She was the last thing he thought of that night.

Tucked under him, her breath rolling over his ear, she moaned. He was deep inside of her. She was writhing with lust. "Oh yes," she cried out. "Oh my … William," she cried out again. Her rhythm slowed and she moaned once more. He felt her, warm and tight around him, explode into ripples urging him even deeper inside of her. Oh, he felt it beginning, he held his breath and waited for the surge – And yes, it exploded, flooding his every cell with pleasure. He filled her, touching a blissful place inside that tied them together. "Mmm," she rumbled in his ear. Slowly he realized he was awake. She was the first thing he thought of each morning, it was true.

Over breakfast, they planned their visit. They would bring the cards with the photos. William told each child that they could choose three roses, whatever color they wanted. He already knew Katie wanted to get pink ones. Chelsea wanted pink too. William Jr. chose red. William thought white ones would look best with the pink and red flowers already in the bunch. In the flower shop, the children spotted some chocolates and hopped up and down to convince William to buy them too.

When the carriage arrived, William Jr. read the sign out loud, "Don Jail." As they walked towards the building Katie asked, "Did Mommy break the law? Did she do something bad, Daddy?" All the children seemed to hold their breath.

William stopped walking and huddled them together. Everyone knew this was important. He had already answered this question quite a few times, but actually seeing that their mother was in a prison was shaking them, bringing a rise in their doubts. "Your mother did not do something bad, but she did break a law. The law she broke is a bad law that hurts many, many people. It is an unjust law, and by breaking it your mother helped lots of people," he answered. They nodded. They had needed to be reassured.

William and the three children were brought into the prison visiting room to wait a few minutes before Julia was brought in. The children sat at a table near the door where their mother would enter. William stood. There were already many women prisoners and visitors in the room. William took a quick look around. Fortunately, he didn't see anyone he recognized. The door opened, and Julia was brought in by a male guard. She was wearing a gray dress. Her hair was down. Her eyes caught his.

The children jumped out of their seats and dashed to their mother. Julia held it together to greet and love her children before she would give William his hug. He could see she had black eye and a cut lip. The look she had given him told him she was suffering. He waited. She hugged and kissed each child, glowed over their gifts for her, and settled them into seats around a table where they would have their visit. Then she said, "Now, I need to talk to your Daddy for a minute, O.K?"

She ran and dove into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck, causing him to take a step back. He took her tightly in his arms. Her face tucked into his neck, he heard her breath, her voice, she was collapsing into tears.

"Hey there," he said tenderly. He backed a few more steps to bump his back into the wall and take her farther from the children, as alone as was possible in a crowded room of visitors and prisoners.

Her voice was squeaky and high-pitched with pain, but barely above a whisper in his ear. "Oh William, Where were you? I was so worried – I had to fight my fears that you had been killed. I miss you so much. This is so much harder than I thought it would be. If I get two years, I don't think I can make it," she despaired.

He stroked her hair, cupping the back of her head. His heart ached so. Guilt was there, for missing the visits, but it was more of a feeling of hopelessness and desolation that seemed to drown through him. His lips touched her ear in a light kiss and he said, voice sinking into her brain, "I'm so sorry … There's a case, with Meyers. You know how crazy things get when he's involved," he said.

She pulled back a little, taking her own weight, and with eyes down on his chest, she said, "Yes, matters involving national security," followed by a sniffle. William chuckled, prompting her to chuckle as well. The comic relief brought them each to take a deep breath. She lifted her eyes to meet his. He stroked his thumb across her cheek, slowly raising it higher to carefully touch the bruise under her eye. She truly felt so much better just being with him.

He looked concerned. He lowered his thumb to the cut on her lip and brought his other hand to hold her other cheek as well. "What happened?" he asked. Then he leaned in and gave her a soft kiss which then peppered over her cheek and came to flutter upon her ear. His heart filled with the desire to care for her, to warm her and comfort her. He whispered, "Julia I love you so much. It pains me to see you hurt – to not have been able to protect you. Tell me what happened." He pulled back to see her face, "Let's make sure it doesn't happen again."

Julia's face wrinkled, threatening a burst of tears again, but she took a deep breath, fighting to hold them back. "Two women jumped me. One of them had a … weapon, kind of like a knife. She … I blocked her first attempt to stab me with it, but the other woman hit me and knocked me to the ground. Another prisoner helped me, and we fought…" Julia hesitated and the slightest smile curved at the edges of her mouth. William anticipated her upcoming joke, feeling a bump of hope and love in his heart. "You should see the other gal," she teased. She was rewarded with his laugh – Oh how she loved his laugh. She took another deep breath and went back to telling the story, "The guards got to us and took them away… Um, the warden came to see me later. He said one of them, Beth Tipton, had been arrested by you, William." William nodded, he recognized the name and remembered the case – a telegraph operator who killed to keep her money-making scheme going. He had been courting Enid Jones at the time. Julia went on, "Um, actually, there are very many women in this jail that have been put here by you." He nodded again, he wasn't surprised. "I've seen Irene, the young girl who killed the "Dracula" victim, remember?" she asked. He nodded again. "And the warden said there were quite a few more," she said.

"I'll go see him," William said. "Julia … You are going to have to lay low. It's just too dangerous for you to be with the other prisoners. I mean, solitary, um, well hopefully we can find a way to have you be able to interact with some of the prisoners – women who I clear as not being a risk, I guess," he said, wrinkling up the corner of his mouth, suggesting he was still unsure – He was trying to work something out in his mind. "I'm sorry, being more alone will add to your suffering – It will be more lonely, more boring. But we need to keep you safe," he concluded, looking deeply into her eyes, asking if she agreed.

"Yes, I'll have to ride out the storm," she said, her voice low and sad. A tear slid down her cheek. He brushed it away. "It's just that it could be so long, William – Years," she added.

William turned to start to head back towards the table and said, "The sentencing is only two days away, we'll know soon enough."

She took his hand and turned him to face her, bringing him to a halt, "William, I'm really scared. I think they will want to make an example of me – Take advantage of my commonly being in the newspapers to scare others away from teaching women about contraception. I think they will give me the full two years."

William took her face in his hands and firmly held her eyes. He answered her worries, "Julia, the Chief inspector put in a good word for you – You are needed as Toronto's head coroner… It will count for something. I really think so," he said, his tone firm and confident. She sighed, feeling his optimism take a bit of a hold in her gut. "You visit with the children. I'll go talk to the warden … Um, Julia, talk to Katie… She, um, she's been having nightmares – that she finds you dead on the floor, like what happened with her mother before she went into the orphanage," he requested.

"Oh. I'm not surprised, I guess. Such a hard life at such a young age…" Julia said. After another sigh she added, "This is going to be hard on all of us…" She seemed to think of something she wanted to say, pulling William into a halt again, "William, I'm so sorry, so sorry that my political… ideas have cost us so much pain… I…"

He slid a hand behind the small of her back and pulled her in close to him. She saw romance and love in his eyes, it kindled joy in her. "Julia Ogden, don't you ever apologize for your dogged dedication to making the world a better place, for it is that very spark of life, that rebellious bravery, that so strongly pulls my heart to yours," he said. Their kiss was heated and deep, especially considering William's reluctance to demonstrate such passion in public. Julia's insides were ignited with both desire and delight. She was so madly in love with this man – and he so madly in love with her, still after all these years. After the kiss broke off he added, "But perhaps, after you get out, we could focus on fighting to change the unjust law rather than breaking it?"

Julia wrapped her arms around his neck and teased, "I will have to consider it. I do so miss making love with my husband," she said, whispering in his ear, "And I do believe there are some things worth sacrificing for."

"And making love with me is one of them?" William asked.

"Yes," she replied, "Among other things, like being there to be with our children."

The children and Julia talked, showering each other in much needed care and intimacy. They were all able to share how hard it was to be without their mother – and she without them. She helped Katie with her nightmares, normalizing them, but also reassuring her that she was not going to die and that she would be coming home eventually – and they would visit as much as possible too. Katie told her mother, and her brother and sister too, that her father had told her that when he was a boy he had found his mother dead too. Julia added that he had been eight years old when that happened. William Jr. said it was just like him now. "That probably affects your Daddy a little bit too – Makes him worry more too," she had said.

Before William returned, the children asked if she was mad at Daddy, or if they were fighting, because he had spent most nights on the couch – and they knew this happened when their parents were arguing. Julia reassured them that she and their father were not fighting or mad at each other. Instead, she suggested, it was probably that Daddy has more memories of being with her when he is in their bed, where she would usually be with him, and since now she is not there, it makes him notice more how much he misses her. He probably just sleeps better on the couch where he doesn't have as many memories. The children were sure he was missing her very, very much. They said that she would see for herself when she read his card. She said she planned on saving the cards for when she was alone. She had written notes to each of them as well.

When William got back, he was relieved to tell Julia that she would be able to have some time each day with a few of the inmates – the woman who had helped her when she was attacked and a few others, for a while in the yard outside and probably a meal or two as well. She wouldn't be completely isolated and she would be safe.

The family talked and laughed and cried together for a while until the guards ordered everyone to say their good-byes, visiting hours would be over soon. William explained to the children that the guards would take their mother away before they let them leave. He asked them to talk about what they wanted to do for the rest of the day while he said good-bye to their mother.

William escorted Julia over to the same wall as earlier, trying to increase their privacy. He placed his back against the wall and pulled his wife close to him. He placed his hands lightly on her hips.

Julia stroked his tie and his collar. Keeping her eyes focused on her hands' explorations she asked, "Um, William, the children asked if I was mad at you. They thought we were fighting. Why would they think that?"

William took one of her curls in his fingers, playing with it. He noticed his body reacting to her closeness. "Oh, I think I know why… Um, I have been sleeping on the couch," he explained. Julia lifted her eyes to meet his, letting him see her concern. William wrinkled his face, showing his acceptance of the fact that he would need to reveal something to her. He took a deep breath and said, "I miss you more when I'm in the bed. Um, I have bad dreams."

Julia's hands slid down to his stomach, "Oh, I see," she said. "Like Katie's?" she asked, implying she suspected he was also subconsciously dealing with his loss of her and wrapping it up with his history of finding his mother dead.

His hand slid under her hair to pinch and glide across her ear. It caused her insides to stir. Sadness slid onto his face. He said, "Yes. I know the situation magnifies the intensity of my concerns – William Jr. being the same age I was when my mother died, and your absence …" He sighed, "Sleeping has been difficult," he said.

"For me too," she shared. "But quite often my thoughts are of delightful memories – It is not only gloom and doom, hmm?" she said, asking if it was the same for him. As he answered her, she slid her hand back to his chest, rubbed firmly against it hunting for his nipple.

"I seem to live in my memories of being with you, Julia," he answered.

She had found what she was looking for and pinched his nipple, becoming more and more aroused as it grew and hardened between her fingers. The sensations her actions stirred in him were immensely potent. "Julia," he said, his voice sounding lower and dry with lust, "You need to stop that."

She slid her hand over to torture his other nipple, quickly finding it under his jacket and coaxing it with her fingers as well. "But I like it too," she said seductively, placing her lips dangerously close to his. She kissed him. Her mouth swam softly over his, her tongue pressed between his lips, its velvety touch inciting a flame in him. She felt his breath, warm and strong, burst across her cheek. He was losing control.

Suddenly the room flipped and spun as he lifted her up and rolled their position, pushing her back roughly against the wall. Julia's womb wrenched tightly with desire. His tongue pressed deep into her and, as William drove his mouth against hers in such a familiar and irresistible rhythm, her arms locked around him and pulled him as closely to her as possible. Under their kiss, deep in her throat, Julia quietly moaned with desire. He felt her weight grow heavy in his arms as she weakened, opening more to him. William's groin jolted, his want for her nearly driving him crazy. It was powerful – too powerful. He broke off the kiss and leaned his forehead against the wall behind her. His breath, rushed and strong, flowed over her neck, seemingly captured under her curls, making it seem private and close.

Julia's voice penetrated deep into his brain, warming his ear. "We have to," she needed to take a breath before continuing. She turned, bringing her lips deeper into his neck and finished, "We have to remember where we are." Their hearts pounded in their chests, the room spun as they each tried to bring its movement to a halt.

"I'm trying," William said, still struggling to gain control.

Julia chuckled, dropping her head back against the wall, finding more oxygen. She slid her fingers around the back of his neck, tenderly scratching him as her fingers caressed through his hair. "Oh William," she said, "I imagine being with you like this constantly. It sustains me."

She felt his breath rumble past her ear once more. The dizziness was slowing. "Yes, it is the same with me," William said.

Julia took a deep breath and said, "William Henry Murdoch, with all of my heart and soul, with every cell in my body, I love you…" She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressed her hands firmly into his back and pulled him into a hug as she added, "I love you so much that it hurts."

William moved back, pulling her softly away from the wall and taking her more completely in his arms. "And I you," he said. William reached up and pushed her hair back to free his face from its cocoon and took a deep breath. "Now, can we talk about something else for a minute?" he asked.

"Something less … arousing, yes?" she suggested.

William exhaled, "Yes," he answered, prompting Julia to giggle. Love burned in his heart at the sound. He laughed too.

Julia took a deep breath, signaling a change of subject and said, "I noticed a laceration, and a rather large bump on the back of your head William?" she pushed for an explanation.

He sighed and moved back, allowing their eyes to meet. His face wrinkled up like she had noticed it does when he is going to admit to something. "Yes," he said, "it is why I was unable to visit you yesterday."

"Hmm," she replied, "So you were lying unconscious on a floor somewhere." He nodded. "Well I guess I was right to worry then," she claimed.

William stood up taller, taking responsibility for his poor judgment. "Yes, you were. I'm sorry … I should not have been alone," he admitted.

"I just lied to Katie … I promised her we weren't going to die," she urged.

Nodding his head to show he understood the implications he replied, "I did the same thing. It felt like I had to – She needed to be relieved of the burden of worry."

Julia wrapped her arm in his and started their walk back to the table. "I agree … but let's try to be more careful, hmm," she requested.

He leaned over towards her and said, "Yes … more careful."

They each sat at the table. William Jr. leaned in and said quietly, as if he were sharing a secret, "Mom, everyone was watching Daddy and you kissing."

"Oh," Julia replied, looking at her husband with some concern. She then turned her attention to each of the children and asked, "Did it embarrass you?"

Katie said excitedly in a whisper, "Oh no Mommy! I'm proud that my Mommy and Daddy love each other more than other parents – It's like Cinderella and Prince Charming!"

Julia looked at William, seeing the slightest blush, but drawn to joy when he laughed.

The guards took Julia away.

William and Julia had not noticed, but Cecily McKinnon (previously the Toronto Harbor Master who had put a hit out on Inspector Brakenreid a decade ago) was brought into the visiting room shortly after Julia arrived. The man visiting her had a scar under his right eye. He spoke with a thick Irish accent. McKinnon greeted him, "Good afternoon dear brother." They had a great deal of business to discuss. She pointed Murdoch and his wife out to him. He told her he recognized Murdoch, that he had been looking for him – but he had knocked him unconscious. He was sure Murdoch never saw him.

McKinnon took a deep breath, looking Murdoch up and down lustfully. "The man really is quite attractive – Catholic too," McKinnon said. She sighed, "He will have to die… But you cannot be the one who kills him. No, that must be Isabel. If anyone gets caught, it needs to be her." She looked over at her brother. Brogan was eyeing Julia. He turned his attention to wiping the thick white dust off of his jacket and pants. "Oh dear brother," McKinnon said, "She has to die too I'm afraid. I was hoping that crazy Beth Tipton would do it for us, but now she is Isabel's too. Make sure to assist her, but make sure you can't be implicated in any way. We have a deal, she escaped with my help, and she gets our help killing Murdoch and his coroner-wife. She takes the risks and they are out of the way – unable to foil my escape. They must be dead in two weeks – Inspector Brakenreid too. Tell Isabel Dr. Ogden is likely to be released Monday – she's a TOFF and she's in with the Constabulary. She should get it done immediately so Ogden has no time to get her sea-legs back before she encounters the "trap." Have the plan ready to go and if Ogden is set free have Isabel implement it immediately."

"Now, to the business… How did the test of the anti-torpedo boat go?" McKinnon asked, noticing Murdoch leave the room.

Brogan looked scared. He feared his sister's wrath. "Bad news I'm afraid. The boat failed and Flate is dead," he blurted out.

"You imbecile! We needed him to get the designs finished before the buyers need proof that we can deliver," she yelled, quickly crouching forward and lowering her voice.

"Charlie claims he knows what to do with the few things left to do. It will be fine," Brogan said.

"How about the derigible? Is it armed with the bomb? We will need it for Brakenreid soon," McKinnon asked.

"Yes, that was done before the boat," he answered.

"Alright, that's enough for now," she concluded. "Go now before Murdoch gets back," she instructed. McKinnon stood and approached the guard to be returned to her cell, her brother walked to the other door – a faint trail of black ink could be seen in his footprints as he walked away. McKinnon barely made it out before she saw Murdoch returning. She made sure her back was to him as the guard opened the door to the corridor back to the cells.

After their visit, William and the children went to have ice-cream, the unanimous decision made by the children while they waited for their parents to say good-bye to each other. Over their ice-cream William talked to them about how their mother ended up having to spend time in prison. William saw it as a good opportunity for a life-lesson. "Your mother has a strong drive to fix things she sees that are wrong in the world. It is something that I love about her. She is very brave – Much braver than most people. She stands up for things she believes in… But, remember what I taught you about surviving in a thunderstorm?" he asked, pausing to see if he had their attention. They nodded. "The taller something is, the more likely it is to get struck by lightning, right?"

"Yes Dad, that's why you don't go under trees even if you are getting soaked by the rain," William Jr. explained.

"Excellent!" his father exclaimed, "Well, your mother tends to stand so tall in fighting injustices that she stands out, and sometimes that means she is the one that will get struck down. That's what happened – Your Mommy took a chance and courageously took action to help people suffering as a result of a law. She stood up against that law, drawing attention to herself. She got hit and now she is paying for breaking that law by being in prison.

"How long will she be punished?" Chelsea asked.

William took some of his ice-cream to stall for time to think. After a deep breath he said, "Well it could be quite long, but there's a good chance that the time will get shortened. Um, I'm sorry to say that it is possible that Mommy might be in prison for two years …"

Panic spread across the young ones' faces. "Two years!" Katie exclaimed. "Chelsea will be my age when she gets home!" she finished.

William reached over to hold her arm and calmly said, "Breathe Katie. It will probably not be that long … And even if it is, we will be alright. I promise… We will find out in two days, on Monday." He wasn't sure it was the right thing to do to tell them – he was trying to protect them from the shock if the worst happened.

After dinner, they read their mother's notes. Everyone felt loved and missed.

That evening, William got a call from the Chief Inspector. He said that he was able to get the sentence lowered – likely to be about one year, maybe even a little less. William thanked him, but in his heart he felt saddened that it would be that long. He tried to tell himself how much better it was than Julia getting two years. The Chief Inspector explained that it was important for Julia to admit that she was wrong to break the law and that she feels remorse and won't do it again. William would tell her tomorrow.

They played and rough-housed until it was time for the children to go to bed. The little ones fell off to sleep quickly, feeling happy in knowing they were going to visit their mother tomorrow too.

William used the time to work out, lifting weights. He thought about Julia stroking his chest, pinching his nipples earlier, evoking a pang of arousal to spread through him once again. Ever since Julia had brought her concerns about being attracted to another man – Inspector Jack Robinson, a few years ago (Story: Competition), William worked hard to stay in good shape. It helped him feel confident and he was sure Julia appreciated it. After a shower he read a science magazine. He was excited to find it had an article on weapons technology. Wishing he felt a little more tired, he decided he'd best try to get some sleep. He had the early mass at the Catholic church where, hopefully, the Irish man with the scar would show up. William chuckled as he remembered George and Jackson trying to cross themselves. "Hopefully they won't draw too much attention to themselves … That never helps an undercover operation go well," he thought.

William went directly to the couch, planning on avoiding the challenges before they even began. He said a prayer before settling under the sheets. He prayed for himself and Katie to be free of nightmares as they slept, and he prayed for Julia. Once again she was the last thing he thought of before he fell asleep.

The dream was both odd and stimulating. He was pinned against the wall by the prostitute he had encountered on Friday, right before he had gotten hit in the head. She admired his muscular chest. He was aroused. He fought his desire to touch her. Before he could do anything about it though, he felt his hands take hold of her hips, but then they were Julia's hips instead. Now it was Julia who had pinned him to the wall and was stroking and kissing him. He felt as if he was about to explode as she pinched his nipples and so deliciously thrust her tongue in his mouth. William moaned, causing him to stir in his sleep. He became aware of a bright light all around them. They were up on a stage with the stage-lights glaring in his eyes, rendering his view of Julia to consist only of her silhouette – her beautiful curls flaring out in all directions. He turned her around to push her back against the wall and penetrated her, completely aware that the audience was watching. He heard them gasp. He pumped deep and hard, unable to stop. Julia moaned, begged him to hurry. He rushed to touch the deepest part of her – pound against it deep within her. The dam burst open, her hips thrust quickly against his – he poured into her, drowning them both with a flood of warm, wet pleasure. He heard what he thought was applause, but slowly he realized it was just his pounding heart. He turned to see the audience. When he turned back Julia was gone. Panic set in – he'd lost her. She was gone. "Julia!" he called out. He fell to his knees with despair. "No! Julia please…No," he cried.

The sound of his own voice pulled him to awaken. He sat up, letting his surroundings settle around him. He was on the couch. It was just a dream. William took a deep breath, noticing his heart was pounding. His attention turned to the large living-room window. It was a full-moon, the light bright white light tested his memory of daylight in the same room. William reached up to rub his forehead. "The stage-light," he thought.

He needed to clean up again. His mind raced through the dream – analyzing and feeling while he walked to the downstairs bathroom. "Making love to Julia again… magnificent!" he thought, "And our romantic antics in the visiting room bordered on being on a stage." So quickly the nausea from the guilt upset his stomach as he remembered his body's lust-filled response to the other woman, both in his dream and in reality as well. But then the grief re-appeared, erasing every other emotion with its power. Loss, so much loss, he wondered how people ever coped with such loss. Loss like the loss of a mother by a young child, or a soul-mate by their lover.

He decided to check on the children, warmed and reassured by the feelings of love in his heart at the sight of each child's sleeping face. He only wished Julia could be comforted in the same way. The image of her alone in a prison bed took center stage in his mind. His heart hurt for her. He tried to remember a time he laughed with her to lighten his mood, to help allow sleep. There it was, also in the visiting room – Julia's voice said quietly and close, "Something less … arousing, yes?" William smiled as he imagined responding in his mind, "Yes, definitely something less arousing." He fell asleep with Julia on his mind.

After William attended the mass at the Catholic church, failing to spot the Irish man with the scar, he took the children to see Julia at the Don Jail again. During the visit he told Julia what the Chief Inspector had said. He could tell that she was also unhappy with the thought of being sentenced with a year. She roused herself to appear fine, he figured more for the children than for him. He explained the importance of her response when the judge asked if she had anything she wanted to say before sentencing. Julia practiced, "I will say that I knew I was breaking the law, but had mistakenly believed that it was acceptable to do so because the law was unjust, leading to much suffering of women, children and families – suffering that I felt called to relieve. I have now come to see that it was wrong to do so, for if anyone who believed a law to be unjust broke that law, mayhem would break out. There would be some people believing it was right to murder or rape. I understand the importance of adhering to the law now." She looked at her husband.

"I think you have the idea… Perhaps add that you regret breaking the law and would not do it again," he said.

Julia dropped her eyes, having more trouble with this part. She sighed and then agreed. "William, do you think I should try to use some powder to cover up the bruises on my face?" she asked.

He thought for a moment and then replied, "No. Actually I think they will help – demonstrating how dangerous it is for you in here." He focused on her face and added, "If your hair was up, the bruises would be even more obvious."

"Yes," she said, "But I need some help with that. They do not allow any pins. I have nothing to use to put it up." She pulled it back, considering braiding it.

"I know how to pull it up … In a French braid. I used to put the horses' tails up in mud-knots. All I would need is a way to pull the hair up through the braid on the back of your head…" he said, turning his attention to searching the room for possible implements. "Any string or…" he said as his eyes suddenly stopped on Katie's riding boots, "Or laces."

Julia joked that he thought of his wife as if she were a 'horse' needing a 'mud-knot.' "I am far from flattered husband," she complained.

William's mouth curled into a sly smile. Standing behind her, starting to loosely braid her hair, he leaned down close to her and teased, "There was a time, wife, many years ago, that you were quite happy to compare ourselves to a prize mare and a prize stallion."

Her insides stirred with the memory. They had been discussing H.G. Wells' ideas on eugenics and things had turned steamy as they each imagined the sexual energy of a prize stallion mounting and mating a prize mare. She giggled and conceded, "Yes. I remember. It was a very stimulating conversation."

William used Katie's bootlace to pull the long braid up through the hair on the back of Julia's head and tied it in place. She reached up and pulled a few strands of curls free. Everyone agreed it looked great. William reminded her that he would be in the courtroom – to look for him when she was brought in.

When it came time to go, Julia again asked the children to stay at the table while she said good-bye to their father. With his wife's back to the wall he asked, "Does the window in your cell face south?" She was not sure. He clarified, "Can you see the moon at night?" he asked. She said yes, it was full last night. "Good," he said, "At 10:00 tonight go watch it – I will be sure to be looking at it at the same time. I'll be out on our porch – I'll sing my song to you – Remember?" (Story: Journal Journeys).

Julia leaned her head in close to intimately sing in his ear, "Just a schoolboy, not alone. There's another not yet known. She's my match in every way. I'll be with her, oh someday." He felt a thrill spread through him as he realized how truly touched she had been by his song – a song he'd written with the knowledge that he had loved her all his life.

"Yes," he whispered back.

"But William, I don't have any way to know when it is 10:00. There are no clocks and I do not have a timepiece," she said. William gave her his pocket watch. "But Liza gave you this," Julia said, concerned that he was trusting her with something so valuable to him and from before he had even met her.

He pressed the watch into her hand. "We can be together, both looking at the same moon, at the same time," was all he said. He kissed her. "Until ten o'clock then," he said, as he placed an arm behind her back and walked her back to the table.

After stopping off at the house to replace Katie's bootlace, William and the children went to the Club for lunch before Katie had her riding lesson. The judge that had heard Julia's case, and was sentencing her tomorrow, stopped by their table. William rushed to stand up, placing his napkin down on the table, to greet him. He quickly introduced the children.

"You and Dr. Ogden have lovely children," he said. He told William that he had been thinking quite a bit about his wife's sentence – that there were many factors to consider.

After the judge left, William explained who he was to the children. "He seems nice," Chelsea said.

"Do you think he likes Mommy?" William Jr. asked.

William explained that his decision about how long their mother got sentenced for was not likely to be influenced by whether or not he liked her. The children pressed him to say whether he thought the judge liked her or not anyway. They seemed happy when he speculated that he thought he liked their mother.

A little while later, Meyers stopped by the table. He asked to take seat. He smoked his cigar and spoke with the children. William thought about how charming he could be sometimes. The children seemed quite comfortable with him.

William Jr. made a mistake and said that he knew who Meyers was – "You're the man Mommy went to Russia with," he said. Meyers gave William a look of concern. William jumped to apologize about the breach of a secret and national security. "The children saw Russian money in Julia's purse when she got back," he explained, "They were excited about the strange and novel-looking money. We tried to convince them to forget about knowing where their mother went, but …"

Meyers asked, "Well now that's all well and good Murdoch, but how do they know about me?"

William suggested that they must have overheard himself and Julia talking.

Meyers pushed, seeming to suggest that he was important to Julia, and to imply that he knew William had been jealous of Meyers' relationship with her. He smugly said, "So, I was a topic of conversation then."

William felt his fists form again. He admitted that there was some talk of Julia's time with Meyers.

Seeming satisfied to have completely gotten under William's skin, Meyers said, as he prepared to take his leave, "There is no one in the vicinity, so I wouldn't worry about our secret getting out."

Once they were alone again, William struggled with his annoyance with Meyers and his anger at his son. He made an effort to breathe and cool his head before he spoke to the boy. William Jr. looked very worried. After a few moments of highly uncomfortable silence, William addressed the children, "It's alright, but you must try to keep secrets secret – like the secret passageways and tunnels in our house," he whispered. "You know they are there, but you act like you don't know unless you need them," he stressed, making sure to look firmly at each child, receiving a nod before he was satisfied.

Later that night, William prepared the couch for sleep. He was not optimistic about sharing the watching of the moon with Julia, as it was very cloudy. He decided he would go out on the porch anyway, hoping she decided to look out her window at the sky despite the lack of a moon. He sat on the bench for nearly an hour. He was excited, a storm was brewing. He knew that Julia would be excited too. They shared a love of thunderstorms – having established a tradition of making love during them. The energy in the air, the blowing wind, glimmering lightning and booming thunder, and the pounding rain, all seemed to heighten their senses, making them feel more alive and in awe.

Soon the storm raged at full thrust. William stood on the porch, letting the wind blow the cool raindrops into his face. Julia stood at her window. She reached her arm out to feel the wind and rain against her skin. They both imagined what they would do if they were actually together on the porch in the storm:

William: Julia suddenly pulled her white nightgown over her head and dropped it on the floor of the porch. She darted down the steps and spun, arms extended out to her sides like wings, out in the pouring rain. He was stunned by her beauty, her outrageousness, watching the breathtaking scene of her naked body dancing so as the lightning flashed to illuminate her gorgeous curves. "Come on William," she called. He felt like he did when he leaped into the balloon to join her so many years ago. Oh how he wanted to go to her – be with her. Finding the courage, pushing thoughts of neighbors seeing out of his mind, he took the plunge. He pulled his pajama top over his head and flung it to the ground. Next he rushed to remove the bottoms. Naked and thrilled he paused at the top of the steps. Julia looked at him there, her face stunningly beautiful as she took in the sight of him, as she felt her heart burn white with love for him. She walked up the steps, reached out and took his hand. It only took the slightest pull. They ran down the steps together. He took her in his arms, kissed her deeply, tasting the rain mix with the flavor of her skin. They quickly became wild with desire for each other. William's mind raced as he tried to think of where he could make love to her. "No, not on the ground," he thought. He led her around to the side of the house and pressed her against the wall. The wind blew at his back, flinging the rain roughly against his skin. He covered her, kissed her, sucked on her and nibbled her flesh. She said, louder than usual to be heard over the beating rain and thunder, "Oh my William… I am so glad you built this house… But I have to admit, I never thought we'd make love against the outside of it," she said with a giggle. In between kisses and bites that randomly took various parts of her body, he asked what she liked most about the house he had built for her. Nearly losing her ability to talk as her need for him seemed to drain away her strength and render her spinning out of control, she could only breathlessly say, "The secret passageways." He answered her, as he slid firmly inside of her, "I'm quite fond of your secret passageway as well," he said. He drove deeply into her, urged forward by the power of the storm raging around them. They made love, mixing their moans of pleasure with the wildest sounds of nature.

Julia: She held his eyes. She was trying to convince him. Her mouth was slightly opened, her arousal drawing him closer to her. Never looking away from his face she unbuttoned his pajama top, slid it down over his broad, muscular shoulders. She felt the rain taking his skin as the wind swept up the torrents and sent them blowing sideways into their protected place on the porch. She pulled her nightgown over her head and let it fall, resting on top of his discarded top. He dropped his eyes and they magnetically pulled her into him. Her breath caught. "Touch," she thought, as her ability to speak had deserted her in her dizziness. William's hands plunged into her flesh, pushing, sliding, kneading, her body. He sucked her breast, buried his face between them. She arched back, lifting herself to him. He picked her up and spun her into the front door with a thud. She felt his fingers slip into her wet folds. Hot breath burst out of her lungs, "William," she moaned. She wanted him inside of her. She hurriedly found the string that was holding his pajama bottoms up, keeping them apart. She pulled it, invoking William to moan with anticipation. With the sound she felt her last ounce of control drop away. Weak with need she fell. His arms squeezed strongly against her, he dropped his body lower and lifted her up, only her toes could touch the ground. She felt his pajama bottoms pool at their feet, and his rigid arousal poked between her thighs. He used his knee to push her thighs farther apart. She felt his breath pound against her neck, burrow into her ear, and sink into her brain. Her nostrils flared. "Please," she thought. The tip of him spread her folds. She moaned. "Please William," she cried. He pushed in, up, deeper. "Oh my god," she thought as she felt him fill her. Thunder crashed, seeming to drive him even deeper into her. Then the thrusts, powerful thrusts, pushing her closer, closer, closer to the edge. He pulled her earlobe into his mouth. She heard him moan. His rhythm hurried. Deep within her she felt a pause, drawing a breath. Gravity slowly spun, waves took her. Hot pleasure exploded inside of her, flooded every cell with delight. She pumped around him, sucking every last drop out of him for her to savor. Done, still, "Wow," she huskily said in his ear. She dropped her head back against the door, spent and loose. Her heart ponded in her chest so that it rivaled the thrashing rain. His beautiful voice sung in her ear, "I have loved you all my life. You're the one for me. Yes with some sacrifice. Always. Always. Love eternally."

William sighed, satiated by his poignant imaginings. He sang her his song, as he had promised he would. He used a towel to soak up the raindrops that had found him on the porch and crawled under the sheets on the couch. He needed to get some sleep. Tomorrow he would rise with the children, go to work, and then get to the court for Julia's sentencing by ten. He imagined kissing her goodnight. She was the last thing he thought of that night.