Journal Journeys_ Lie Detector
Julia sat on their couch in the Windsor House Hotel drinking a glass of wine and trying to focus on a medical journal. She knew William would be a little late as he was working on a case and was still in the interrogation room with a suspect when she stopped by on her way home. She had ordered and eaten dinner, placing some aside for William when he got home later. She was grateful that it was Friday night. The week had been long and hard, and she was very much looking forward to the weekend. Her gaze was drawn to the two writing journals on the table next to the couch. They remained there, hers over his, since earlier in the week when William and she had shared their entries about when he came to see her in Buffalo. They decided that night to continue sharing entries with each other, and she so very much wanted to know what he had felt, thought, experienced. They had planned on reading to each other about the time William demonstrated the lie detector machine he had made to the entire constabulary, the one with the blue liquid that would rise whenever the person hooked up to it experienced stress in the form of a rise in heart rate and blood pressure. She chuckled to herself, remembering the look of concern in his eyes as he watched the liquid inching up once she had arrived. The devil on her shoulder said that he would read it to her later anyway, so what harm would come of reading it now. Fortunately the angel on her other shoulder had a winning argument – she had promised William she would not read his journal without his permission. Case closed. She sighed and turned her attention once again to her story about the discovery of a "hormone" called secretin. She really did find it to be fascinating.
When she heard his key in the door, she got up to greet him. It must have been raining – he was wet. He held a dozen roses, which accomplished their goal – to make her feel courted, loved. Julia helped him out of his wet clothes and sent him to take a shower. She put the flowers in a vase, changed into her pajamas and poured herself another glass of wine. She intended to be there when William got out of the shower to dry him off, care for him.
She heard the water stop and hurried into the bathroom to open up the towel to him as he stepped out of the tub. She wrapped it around him, reaching up with the edges to dry his face and his hair. Slowly she worked her way down his body. Upon arriving at his pelvis, she noticed a bulge in the towel. She lifted her eyes to meet his. They held eye contact for a moment, sparks of lust flying through the air. He backed her up until her bottom hit the bathroom counter. Somehow she dropped the towel. He took her head in his hands, brought his lips within a millimeter of hers and then hesitated. Although her head was spinning with anticipation, she said, voice breathy and aroused, "William, aren't you hungry for your dinner?"
When he exhaled his warm breath danced across her lips, chin. "I'm hungry, but not for dinner," he said. Then his mouth took in her chin – hard, rough kisses. He explored her face with his mouth, jaw bone, cheeks, lips, neck. She felt her knees going weak and pressed her weight heavier against the counter top. William lifted her nightgown over her head. He stepped back and used both hands to squeeze and press her breasts together to create the most exquisite cleavage. Forcefully with his mouth, he leaned down to ravage each breast, kissing, sucking, nibbling. Julia's moan pushed him over the edge of restraint. He lifted her up by the waist to place her buttocks onto the counter top. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he penetrated her, releasing a moan of his own as he entered her. Urgently, strongly, he thrust into her.
Sensing he was going too fast for her she urged, "Don't stop, William. Don't stop." He slowed the rhythm, focused on her breathing as each breath rumbled across his ear. Each billowing breath grew in intensity as desperation reached its limit in her. Sensing she was close now he picked up the rhythm again and brought them both to release. Dizzy, heads spinning they clung together waiting for the world to settle back down around them.
They re-dressed, William in his pajamas and Julia in her nightgown. As William actually was hungry … for dinner, he ate his now cold dinner with Julia joining him at the table. She reminded him of their plans to read their journal entries about the lie detector to each other. They nestled together on the couch, and, perhaps establishing a tradition for their shared journal journeys, William read his entry first.
My deepest emotions were put on public display today. Of course, I did this to myself. I shouldn't have made such a big scene out of testing my pneumograph, but I must admit it is an amazing invention and I really wanted to show it off. Even though I was embarrassed, the machine worked perfectly. Working on the premise that an individual's blood pressure and heart rate rise under the stress of lying, I showed today that it will detect a similar reaction even if the subject doesn't even answer the question. Just posing a question that is stressful to the subject produces an observable response. As a matter of fact, the blue liquid (which rises when the subject's vitals rise – and the subject in this case was me) was rising with merely her entrance into the room. It did not help that it was the first time I was seeing her today and I had another haunting "Julia-dream" last night. This particular dream was so intense that I already knew I was going to have trouble when I came face to face with her today, but I didn't expect it to be in front of the entire constabulary.
William quickly caught her eye and then looked back at his journal. He paused and then turned the page. He cleared his throat, preparing to continue reading.
Julia reached over to touch his arm, "William," she said, "I'm glad to hear any part of your journal you want to share, but … there was a lot more writing left unread on the previous page, no? What was it – Was it the dream?"
He lifted his eyes to meet hers. He felt his face getting hotter, knew it was likely turning red as he blushed. Now Julia would be relentless. He sighed and said, "Yes."
"Oh William, I so want to hear it. I promise I'll read you some of my dreams too…" she asked.
He acquiesced and turned the page back and read.
The dream:
It was the middle of the night and I had been called to a crime scene – a murder. Dr. Ogden was also called. We both showed up, with no one else present, and, likely because we had each been asleep when we got the call, we were both in our pajamas. I wore my red ones and she was in a simple white nightgown. I had already surveyed the area around the body when she arrived.
"Good … I guess it's morning … detective," she said. (She looked stunningly beautiful, hair down, barefoot).
"Doctor, thank you for coming out at such a late hour," I replied.
She dropped her eyes to the body and said, "I'm always happy to be of help with your investigations, William," her use of my given name causing a stir in me.
She squatted down next to the body and I quickly joined her, crouching by her side. She started to verbalize her thoughts, lividity etc., but I was not able to hear – it sounded far off and blurry. My eyes were stuck on the intoxicating sight they had happened upon – as she leaned forward to investigate the body, the neckline of her gown dropped down from her breasts in response to gravity. There they were, cocooned away and yet accessible from my viewpoint – two round, moldable cream-colored orbs topped off with perfectly erect pink nipples. Oh, how I wanted to touch them, smell them, feel them against my face, taste them.
From far away through the fog I heard it, "Detective … detective," she called.
Slowly I was able to raise my eyes, meet her beautiful blue ones. I felt my eyes beginning to focus.
"Detective, you seem a bit distracted … unfocused … on the case. Has something stolen your attention?" she asked, a tinge of teasing detectable in her voice.
Heat surged up into my face. I know I blushed. I know she noticed. When I tried to speak, my voice was scratchy, but I was able to say, "Umm … sorry," and quickly look away.
Deep in my core I felt a surge of fire as she reached out to place her fingers under my chin, turn my face to hers and said, "Don't be William." She took my hand, we stood and she led me, first stepping over the body, and then walking down a dimly-lit corridor, into a candle-lit bedroom. Once inside she stopped at the foot of the bed, turned her body to stand in front of mine, and lifted my hand to wrap it under and around her breast, so warm and pliable. Then she pushed my hand into her. I felt her breast bulge and squeeze up over my fingers, instantly setting my groin ablaze with desire. She stood up a little onto her toes to bring her lips evocatively close to my ear and whispered, breath hot and wispy, "I want you to touch me."
She wrapped her arms around my neck, scratching across the hair at the base of my neck and resting her lips against my neck she said, "I want you to take in my smell ... taste me, William."
I kissed her neck, opened my mouth against it to suck and softly bite it. She moaned in response.
"Kiss me," she said, tilting her head, opening up access. This time it was me who moaned as our lips touched – the warm, soft, delicious taste of her driving me wild. She reached down, took my hands and brought them to her hips. Through her nightgown, I felt her supple flesh. My hands could not stay still. They roamed around her back, down to her buttocks.
She stepped in so close I could feel her heart beating against mine. My fingers inched up her gown until her exquisite flesh could be felt under my knuckles. She broke off our kiss, found my ear, tortured me with her voice. "Look at me," she said, stepping back, making visible space between us. I lifted the gown over her head. For a moment, with her arms raised in the air, I saw her curves. My knees felt weak. The nightgown dropped to the floor.
"I want to feel your skin against mine," she said as she unbuttoned my pajama top. I lost my breath when she continued her undoing down past the last button of the top to untie my pajama bottoms and drop them to the floor. Oh my god the room spun around as she slid her body up along mine. "I want you inside of me," she said.
I lifted her up, placed my knee on the bed, dropped her down into the soft blankets, held her eyes with mine as I crawled up to cover her. I never wanted anything more than I wanted to be inside of her. She found my ear, said, "Please." I slowly entered her, astonished and emblazoned by her body's yielding, soft, slippery offering. Our bodies moved together, tightening our desires to the point of rupturing. "Deeper," she begged. "Oh yes, William … yes," she declared, driving me to lose control of my desire and pump so strongly and so fast that I felt my body cascade over the edge of ecstasy. I held her tight, as I felt her suck every last drop out of me. It was at this moment that I awoke, hearing my own voice call out her name.
With my heart pounding, out of breath, head ringing, I knew I had never felt so much pleasure before. I'm not sure I would actually survive a real encounter.
Only a few hours later, I was rigged up to the lie detector. Panic set in at her entrance – I could see the blue liquid rising. I knew I would not be able to hide my body's reaction to her presence. Stuck in the center of everyone's gaze, I tried to slow my breath. So quickly it happened – Someone … the Inspector, had passed her the note pad – she was asking the questions. Higgins … it was bloody Higgins who asked the question! … "Is the detective in love," he teased. "Oh, I am so in love with this woman!" I thought. The truth burst free out of me for all to see, not in word, but in body. The blue liquid shot up. Her eyes met mine, her mouth slightly agape. Breathtaking … she was breathtaking standing there, shocked by my tortured disclosure. I didn't stand a chance now. I would be putty in her hands … or even worse, my feelings would be unrequited and our extraordinary relationship would now be awkward, strained.
The alert sounded and the placed cleared out. I would have to face her at the crime scene. Oh how I hoped she would pretend nothing happened – business as usual. At least, I think that's what I hoped for.
He took a long, deep breath and closed the journal. Slowly he lifted his eyes to meet hers.
Julia crawled onto his lap, her nightgown sliding up over her hips as she spread her legs to straddle him. She took his head in her hands, caressing his jaw with her thumbs and kissed him – lots of soft, little kisses, each one landing in a new spot. She kissed and teased his ear before she said huskily in it, "William, if you ever lose your job as a detective, rest assured you could garner a good income writing sexually enticing literature. We will not be reading my journal right now. No, I intend to bed you, William Murdoch."
William raised an eyebrow at her, "Bed me?" he inquired.
"Umm hmm," she replied. She took him by the hand into the bedroom and had her way with him.
Later, at his urging, Julia went to get her journal and brought it back to their bed where she read it to him while he lay his head down on her naked belly.
Thinking it was a day like any other, I entered the stationhouse. There was William in the bullpen – tied down to a wheel chair and hooked up to what had to be his latest invention. He was demonstrating it to all the constables, even the Inspector. I quickly figured out the design. The subject – in this case William – had his heart rate and probably blood pressure monitored by the level of a blue liquid in a coiled glass tube. The liquid would rise if the subject's (William's) heart rate and blood pressure rose. Constable Crabtree was asking William questions and William was answering. It seems he had figured that lying would result in a rise in the liquid. It was a brilliant idea. The way William's innovative and bright mind worked never ceased to amaze me. In my case these qualities seemed to work like an aphrodisiac – I was smitten, and I felt my body reacting to just the sight of him showing off his new machine.
Suddenly I noticed it – his discomfort. He looked so … worried as his eyes darted back and forth between the blue liquid in the tube and me. Then it struck me. He was worried that his reaction to me would cause the liquid to rise – and then everyone, including me, would know he had feelings for me. I felt my own heart rate increase at the possibility that I was right – that William Murdoch had romantic feelings for me. Increasing William's torture, the Inspector handed me the notebook with the questions to ask. The liquid rose a little when I stepped forward and read the next question. Then Higgins called out the question that has been plaguing me for months. I couldn't really believe it. He called out, "Is the detective in love?" Everyone's eyes fell to William and the liquid. William's eyes dashed to mine and then to the liquid. And, oh my god, that liquid shot up so high and so fast it made me gasp. My knees felt weak – "He loves me!" I thought, "He really does! I was right … Oh my god, William Murdoch loves me." His eyes seemed stuck on me. Time slowed. But all of a sudden the alarm sounded and everybody rushed off to address the emergency. Feeling overwhelmed and unsure of how to act around him now, I decided to escape with the rest of the group.
I headed for the crime scene feeling like I was in seventh heaven. I needed to calm down, not react. Obviously William didn't want me to know. But oh my, I did know, the memory once again sending my head spinning, my heart racing and my knees shaking. I was in love and now it seemed like my dreams might come true. I pulled off my non-challant act when I saw William at the crime scene. He also remained in control, but I sensed it, under the surface. Honestly, the slight awkwardness was worth it. I let myself really feel it – We were in love, this beautiful man and I. Now all I had to do was wait him out.
Placing the journal down on the night table and then running her fingers through his hair she said, "You know William, I really had no idea it was going to take so long. I'm not complaining – It was well worth the wait."
He lifted himself up to rest his head next to hers on the pillow. With a soft kiss he said, "Good." Then he reached over and turned out the lamp. Tomorrow was Saturday, and they would be able to sleep in. Contentment blanketed them as they drifted off to sleep.