Journal Journeys_Learning from the Lecture

The moment he stepped over the threshold of their home, William felt the burden on his shoulders lighten. It had been a fairly awful day, and arriving home now, after such a day, sweaty from cycling home on an unseasonably hot October evening, with the smells of Eloise's cooking, and with the knowledge that within the confines of these self-designed walls there waited for him his beautiful wife and their wonderful baby boy, he felt his soul's recovery begin. Hanging his homburg on its peg and draping the burdensome, unneeded jacket over the staircase railing, he headed down into the basement, lured by the squeaky springs and the playful babbling sounds of William Jr.'s bouncing in the invention he had made for him.

Books opened, papers splayed out in front of her all over the labtable, Julia worked with the door opened and William Jr. playing nearby. Grateful to have been able to leave the morgue early, she had had time to shower off the incredible stink of the day and even begin to outline a syllabus for her new class at the Women's college – provided William accepted the idea. She had started with determining time of death, always so important to working a case. Next she figured would be means of death and then identifying the body…

William's voice drew her attention from the stairs. "Well now, how's my little man doing?" he spoke to William Jr.

His footsteps finished down the last few steps as Julia noticed how big the smile grew on her own lips and her heart opened and warmed with the mere sound, the mere presence of this man. She would feign being deeply intrigued by her work. She spoke to him from her labroom as he kneeled and greeted their son in the next room.

"Welcome home, Mr. Murdoch," she said. Immediately she remembered his latest case, and the newspapers taunting him over his failings in solving it. She imagined the Inspector's irritated yelling in her ear…

Unaware of it, William sighed. "It's good to be home, Mrs. Murdoch," he answered her.

A few moments later, after loving his baby for a time, William stood leaning against the doorframe admiring his wife from afar. She had already glanced his way, so he knew he was not doing so in secret, still he let his eyes tour her figure. She had showered, her hair still damp and pulled back into a braid. Naked under her robe, absolutely gorgeous, her soft flesh peaked out revealing a breathtaking tease of cleavage at the juncture of the fabric a few inches above the robe's sash. He imagined the feel of the sash in his fingers as he pulled it open, then the warmth and suppleness of her womanly body as he pushed in against her.

The noticing interrupted his fantasy, "What's she working on?" he wondered. "Julia," he asked drawing her eyes out of her books and up to his…

The wrinkle at the corner of her mouth shot emotions and thoughts through him, the gesture a contagion from her familiarity with him, the meaning of it telling she had something to admit to… and a request to make of him as well.

"Yes, you must be curious," she said.

He pushed away from the wall and approached, his eyes rushing to take in the evidence, his quick mind considering all the myriad of possibilities. The books ran the gamut of topics, but all seemed to be about forensics. The title she had written at the top of the paper read, "Syllabus." William tilted his head to the side as he heard the beginnings of a conclusion in his head, "A course…"

Julia's voice next to him began to explain, "Well, it seems that after you – and I must say, Miss James – had Professor Hempel arrested for murdering Miss Sarah Franklin, the Ontario Medical College for Women was absent a professor. And there were students needing to attend lectures, and conduct labs, and receive grades…"

For just a moment, Julia noticed again how truly beautiful her husband's eyes were as she gazed into them before she went on. "Dr. Stowe-Gullen asked me to teach a course in forensic medicine…" Julia said, pausing as she saw pride and excitement growing on William's face and the fact that he felt those things so thrilled her it stole her breath. She went on, "She promised me that I could employ my own research methods, even if they are considered unorthodox, and I…" Here, Julia stammered, for she knew in her heart she had made a mistake accepting Augusta's proposal without talking to William first. But his reaction was reassuring, for she had expected he would be accepting, even happy about her taking the position. Yet, she felt the need to explain, and to minimize the cost her taking on more work would bring.

She reached up and cupped William's cheek. Her tone offered him a vow. "William," she started, "I know that I… we," her smile lit him up, provoked his in return, "We have much on our plates, with a new baby and me returning to the morgue." A deep exhale flowed out of her nostrils as she tried to lower the building pressure and continued, "I would only need to lecture two late afternoons a week… And work in a time for the students to do labs, possibly at the morgue. And I was thinking, maybe we could use that property over by the Don River, um, I know we still have it and it could be useful as a… well as a body-farm, if you will."

"Brilliant idea," he exclaimed, understanding right away what she intended, the site providing various soil moisture contents that would impact decomposition rates of bodies and allow for research into what happens to a body once it is buried in all sorts of conditions and depths.

"So, you're alright with my taking the position?" she asked excitedly. Her heart beamed.

He turned her to him, took a hold of her hips. "You milady, will be quite good at it, I'm sure. And we do very much need well-trained pathologists, and I know of no one better than you, Dr. Ogden," he declared with a big smile.

Julia's arms slid up around her husband's neck and the mood became flirtatious. "You, William Murdoch, never cease to amaze me. You are truly a modern man," she said. Her fingers glanced his ear, tangled into his hair. "I'm quite sure no other man has to contend with such outrageous requests from their wife. You must think I'm quite something," she suggested.

William's warm breath spilled over her ear as he leaned closer to her and replied, "No, Julia, not something – everything. You are everything to me." His fingers grasped hold of the sash around her robe, tugged at it. She moaned as his coarse hands slipped in along her flesh and his moldable, soft lips covered hers in a delicious kiss. Rocketing levels of sexual desires between them, the kiss deepened. Firmly he pulled her tight, pressed her backside against the lab-table. Enticing, so dizzying and enticing, the contrast of his sculptured, hard chest muscles against her supple, creamy breasts. They both felt it, his rising need to be closer to her, as his groin bulged into the top of her thigh.

The kiss broke off. Julia's lips traveled down his jaw, reveling in his daylong stubble, then a nip at his neck, the salty taste of his sweat flooded her tongue. He was wet with sweat and she pulled back. "You need a shower, husband," she said.

"Mm," he answered, working to gain control of his lust for this lush, mushy, delicious woman. "Step back, William," he heard his own voice coach in his head, "Step back." Floundering in his efforts, he nuzzled her neck, kissed, sucked on her. His strong hands gloried in the curve of her waist as they rode upwards underneath the fabric of her robe. Oh, how he wanted to feel her jiggly breasts bulge through his fingers.

"William," her more stern voice warned. She was battling her urges herself, feeling her womb twisting tight into a knot, like a sponge wanting to lap every drop of this man up, the slippery liquid oozing out of her filling her opening for him. She made herself do it, push at him, find his shoulders and push him back.

He yielded to her request, let go of her tasty flesh in his mouth, pulled his hands out of her robe, stepped back. His eyes stayed down, hiding his disappointment. She was right, of course she was right…

Julia found she needed to clear her throat to keep up the pretense of control. "There is still time for you to get cleaned up… before dinner, detective," she advised. She so loved his polite bow.

"Yes," he nodded and lifted his brown eyes to hers. With only that, he left.

) (

The couple stood together next to the sleeping baby's crib, only illuminated by the light through the opened door from the hallway. Rarely did they both tuck him in, stay with him while he drifted off, but they had done so tonight. Sensing that it was safe now to risk a whisper, William said, feeling Julia's eyes turn to him as he kept his down on the bundle in the crib, "Thanks for making me a baby, Mrs. Murdoch. I really like him." His sly smile barely visible in the dim light and a quick sideways glance with his big, dark eyes and her heart tumbled over.

Her fingers reached up to his chin and turned him to face her. Her whisper was intensely intimate as she teased, "I thought you might," in reply. She gave him a soft peck on the cheek, offering a promise of more.

William pulled the door close to its frame, leaving it opened a crack, and then captured his wife against the hallway wall. He grasped a curl that dangled free of her braid, then kissed her cheek, then her lips, then took more, kissing deeper, then deeper still. With his wife having wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck, he turned and carried her into their bedroom. Like a warm, gentle rain that had been promised all day and finally came, he made love to her.

Afterwards, bathed in content, satisfied, relaxed, they lie together in their marital bed, Julia resting her head on her husband's shoulder. The world had stopped its luscious spinning and their minds settled down to once again consider the realities of their complicated lives. They had so little time together, and admittedly, William thought, they certainly used it well. But still, now with Julia teaching at the college, there would be even less time for them to be together.

William broke the silence, asking, "So, Professor Ogden, when do you give your first lecture?"

"Next week," the answer came quickly, "Monday at four o'clock." Realizing that the carving into their time of this new adventure of hers was seeming to become much more obvious with the reality of scheduling now on the table, Julia felt worry fill her gut. She shifted with the discomfort, lifted up onto an elbow to look into William's face. "The class is on Mondays and Wednesdays from four till seven," she elaborated, with the endearing wrinkle at the corner of her mouth.

William noted the impact of being on the other side of that gesture, realizing it had a way of rendering the receiver weakened. "Julia, you seem concerned that I will be resentful of the time your teaching will take form us. I assure you, I am not," he offered as he rolled over and propped himself up on an elbow to match her gaze. Lovingly he took a hold of one of her curls and continued, "I find it exciting…"

Julia smiled, noting a delightful glint in his eye. "It is, isn't it," she agreed with a gleeful squeeze. She added, "I do hope, detective, that you would offer your expertise to the endeavor. Perhaps even be a guest lecturer?"

"That sounds lovely," he answered her, "I'd be honored… if you think it fitting, and you think I'm up to the challenge."

Her hands marveled in the ups and downs of his muscles, touring his deltoids and pectorals. "William Murdoch, I have always thought you would have made a wonderful teacher. I mean just think of George. Your relationship with him is very much like that of a teacher and a student," she encouraged.

Doubtful such a one-on-one relationship was the same thing as teaching a class, he wrinkled his face at her and complained, "True, but…"

It hit her in flash – the memory of William so eloquently lecturing down in front of a huge hall of physics students at the University of Toronto, while working on the first case he ever had with the dreadful James Gillies.

"Oh William," she sat up excited, "And you really shined when you lectured a class. I saw it myself. Remember?" she asked insistently.

He did. It came to him as well, the memory of using a lecture on the hangman's calculations to trick Robert Perry into confessing, and naming James Gillies as well, in the murder of a professor at the college. She saw the recognition in his eyes. She rushed to take advantage of it. "It was very impressive William," she gleamed.

"Professor Godfrey gave me an A-minus," he giggled with the memory, risking being boastful.

"Really?!" Julia sat upright and gave him a playful shove, acknowledging his cockiness and egging him on even more, "I would have thought a solid A myself."

Memories of the time poured in around them both. The smell of the old, stuffy wood in the lecture hall. The surprised and judgmental looks the female doctor received when she entered the exclusively male university to observe from up above. William writing on the big blackboard in the front of it all. But they both felt the sinking of their hearts too, for it had been a devastating time for them as a couple, and the pain was still there with the memory.

William joined her in sitting up and bent a knee. "As did I," he agreed, but then went on to explain, his voice dwindling off as the deeper meaning of the words in the context of this particular time in their lives settled in, "but of course, nothing is perfect."

Julia recognized the opportunity as she reacted with wonder to his unspoken connections. "William," her voice queried, piquing his curiosity, "Did you write of this time, when you gave this lecture, in your journal?" Not giving him time to answer she bounced, "I did." She was out of bed so fast retrieving her journal from her dresser he barely thought when he said…

"Get mine too," and he leaned over to turn on the lamp on her side of the bed as well.

I learned one thing from his lecture, as I sat in the rafters and admired him from afar, William Murdoch had my heart. It was him and only him for me – ever. And it was not going to be, not ever, and I had to accept that. From there, as his brilliance, and his power, and his twinkling radiance stole my breath away, it was more clear for me than it had ever been before. I completely love this man, with the depth of my soul, I love him. And I know there will never be another man in the world who makes me feel this way. I listened, and I watched, and somehow I managed to follow the genius of his argument – his interrogation really… and at the same time I watched every inkling of joy in my life die…

I smothered it. Watched as it glimmered and struggled gasping for air, here and there an eruption of the glorious potential of it as my heart reacted to some gesture, some wise words from him down below. Somehow I managed not to cry, knowing that the tears would come when I was alone, and that they would put out the very last embers of the fire of my love for him, leaving only a noxious black smoke behind in its wake. Before him I knew I would live my life alone. After him I see that I have lost nothing in the end, alone as always, nothing new. But… the sense of loss is so astounding. I was better off, much better off, before, before not knowing what it could feel like to have… my God what would I call him to me? A soulmate, if I'm honest. It does hurt terribly, to have lost so much. And even though I'm back where I started, and that should be good enough, I'm not sure I can bear it. I want only to hide when I see myself in his eyes, when I see that the man I love more than I ever thought was possible sees me as a selfish, abhorrent… as a murderer really. A woman who would kill her own child for her own selfish ambitions. My God this hurts. And I'll admit, it's hard not to see myself as he sees me now, and that hurts even more. I'll need distance. Maybe I'll need to leave the morgue – but that seems so unfair! I have every right to stay. I am a good pathologist.

Distance. Put up the walls Julia. Don't let him in. Silly girl, he doesn't want in anyway, remember. He dropped you like a hot potato once he saw the real you – and don't you forget it. Protect yourself. Don't care what he thinks. Be professional, nothing more. Keep your distance. He's just a detective, nothing more. Nothing more than a Dermott or a Slorach. Just a detective, that's all.

William raised an eyebrow at her, "Ouch," he said. He took her journal from her and put it aside. Swinging a leg over her, William straddled her lap, consciously holding up much of his weight on his knees so as not to hurt her as he pushed against her, pinning her back into the headboard. He kissed her cheek, then leaned back and caught her beautiful blue eyes. "Julia," his tone sincere he insisted, "I never thought of you the way you imagined."

Julia's eyes bolted away from his and he knew she didn't believe him. Panic flew through him. "Julia Ogden, you listen to me," he asserted, leaning over to try to draw her eyes. She tried, lifted her eyes briefly, but then they darted away again. "Julia," he fought the urge to plead with her, sensing it would only stir the emotions more. "Calmly William," he coached himself. "Julia, I admit I could not see myself marrying a woman who had had an abortion," William shook his head with the unacceptableness of it, "One who had committed what the Church so clearly sees as a sin." He took a deep breath, knowing this would be difficult and he would need the air, she would need a moment. "But," he leaned over again, "but I struggled so because I was at that point, um already…"

William tenderly touched her chin. "Please Julia, look at me," he thought, unwilling to force her, connecting but unwilling to lift her face to meet his. Instead he stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I wanted to marry you Julia. I had been battling with the problems of that for quite some time… uh, before I learned of your abortion. You already know. We have talked of it often, how my low station caused me pause, hmm?" he asked, hoping his question would pull her up to him.

She braved it, her big blue eyes meeting his, being rewarded with his warm smile. Wisdom had taught him about honesty, and he pushed on… after a swallow. He reached up and rubbed his forehead – his tell, so she knew he, too, was feeling stressed by the topic of his reaction to her abortion. "And although I thought… And we both know I was wrong, but I thought, I would not be able to marry you," he added with a raised eyebrow, highlighting the irony. "And even if I wasn't going to marry you, I knew I loved you," he went on, "And I still thought you were the best, kindest, brightest, most non-judgmental, loving person I had ever met, and probably ever would. I was certain that you had done what you did with a heavy heart, despite the fact that you had admitted you did not ultimately regret the decision you had made. As a matter of fact, in the end that solidified my certainty, for I knew you well enough to know that such a decision would only have been taken with the utmost seriousness on your part, and if – after having done it, you still felt it was the right decision for you in the circumstances, then I trusted that it was, despite what the gospel teaches. I learned from this whole thing too Julia. I learned how much I trusted you, trusted in you," William concluded his argument realizing he had cupped her face firmly in both of his hands and had given in to the emotional whirlwind of pleading.

Letting go of her face, he asked, after a sigh, hope in his heart, "Do you believe me?"

Thankfully, she did, but still, she wanted him to read about his experiences at the time of his lecture.

No perfect circle – at first I missed the lesson in the lecture. Oh, I felt so high. My plan worked beautifully. I was completely in control, executing each and every step perfectly… Got the confession. Solved the case of the perfect murder. I was on top of the world. And I never knew it more starkly, I WAS THERE ALL ALONE. And it was because I had held too fast, too rigidly, to my ideal of this perfect woman, to this belief that I had that Julia Ogden was the perfect woman for me. Professor Godfrey said he would have given my lecture an A-minus. Pressed on the 'minus,' the man argued that it was me who had actually just proven that NOTHING was perfect. And the moment the words left his mouth, hit my ear, before their meaning registered in my brain, my heart felt it, knew it, sank with the realization of it… I had made a huge mistake with Julia. I had been disappointed because I found out that she wasn't perfect. I had lost her for such a stupid reason, holding out for something that didn't exist – that could not exist, I lost the one for me because I expected the impossible, I expected perfection.

The way my heart skipped a beat when she walked in, and I saw all those men's eyes turn to her, shocked at the gall of such a woman, and I flipped over so much in love with her – still. And I knew I loved her like I would never love another. And I was so pleased with myself that she saw me perform so well, figured I was shining in her eyes… I momentarily forgot that I had broken both of our hearts. And there is an irony to this tale, because I have discovered that in finding her imperfection she is even more perfect, for it is this very thing that is essential in making her real. And the impossibility of her perfection for me somersaults away, end over end, making sense and then not making sense. And I know only one thing, we were meant to be. I was right, she is the one for me.

I am fighting such a strong urge to march right over to her home and declare my love – tell her how stupid I have been. Beg for her to take me back. It's past midnight you daft old bugger, I hear the Inspector's voice in my head. I'll do it tomorrow. Invite her to the battery exhibit. And thank her for helping with the ruse to identify George's real mother… perfect!

He closed the plain, brown journal and said, eyes still down on the book, "Well, we both know how perfect that plan turned out to be." William lifted his eyes to meet those of his wife and offer her his wrinkled face in apology and admission. Delightfully, she giggled.

Now it was her turn to put his journal aside and treat his wounds. "Husband," she started, crawling on top of him as he had done to her earlier, "You could not have known that I had collapsed into self-loathing and become blinded by my imagining that you thought badly of me."

Welcomingly, he pulled her into his lap tighter and agreed, "No, I could not." He played with her curls and went on, "How much I wish I had given in to the urge to go to you right then. Perhaps it was not too late?" he asked.

"Midnight? That is quite late," she teased. Changing to a more thoughtful tone, she said, "Perhaps, such a pouring out of your heart would have convinced me then, but I had walked away from the park bench… where I had told you about my abortion, I got up off of that bench, William, believing you were disgusted by me. That idea was in my head before your lecture at the university. It would have taken quite a bit to get it out," she explained. "I don't think I actually did get that thought out of my head completely until what you said to me just now, about thinking I was kind and good… back then," she added.

He nodded. Still, he wished he had tried.

Julia's thoughts had moved forward. She shared, "I think that's why I felt I deserved the suffering that seeing you with another woman caused me." She tightened her lips, reacting to the bad taste of the memory in her mouth. She paused, his eyes intensely present with her, compassionate, wondering.

"William, I truly don't know how I remained standing, kept breathing, with the pain I felt when I saw you standing there with Mrs. Jones through your office window. It completely knocked me over, knocked the breath out of me," she told him. William wrinkled his mouth with regret. Julia reached out and rubbed his chest. Let her eyes drop away and admire him. "I have you now," she reassured herself.

"You had me then," he corrected, "It's just that neither of us knew it."

"True," she agreed with a tiny smile, and a cocky glance.

He reached over and turned out his lamp. She crawled off of him and turned out hers as well. They found each other again in the darkness and she nestled into her spot resting her head on his chest, and all was well as his heartbeat thumped in her ear and she rode the waves of his breaths. It turns out that there was much to be learned from that lecture, so many years ago, much learning from the lecture, indeed.