Author's Note: This collection is "T" for a reason, folks...
A Game For Two: "The Future is Unwritten," 13x18
"What woman in her right mind wouldn't want to bed a successful writer?"
It was at that moment George knew, that any ill thoughts Effie Newsome may have been holding against him had been banished. Effie was smart as a whip and cheeky to boot but rarely outside of his company. So if she was comfortable enough right here, in this moment, in this corner booth, to make a statement like that especially when George knew it was a load of bunk…Successful writer my foot-he winced. Bad analogy.
He cocked his head sideways. "Is that what I am to you, Miss Newsome?" he questioned. He tried to sound offended. "Just another notch in your belt?"
She met his gaze across the table. "Don't be silly, George," she told him innocently. "I don't wear a belt."
God but he'd missed her. Next book tour (and if this all wasn't fodder for his next novel, he didn't know what would be), she was coming with him. He didn't know if he could stand to be away from her for that long again.
"Oh, and what do you wear?" he countered, purposely poking at his food and avoiding the glint in her eyes.
"A corset."
George would hate to be on the receiving end of her in a court of law, he decided. She had all the right answers and knew just the right way to phrase a question. Any man on the stand would be putty in her very capable hands. He could feel himself getting hot under his collar, but he wasn't done with her yet.
"A corset," he scoffed at her. "And I thought you were such a modern woman."
And apparently, she wasn't done with him, he noted. This must be some kind of punishment, he decided, as Effie suddenly became very focused on the plate in front of her. He'd been so intent on looking in her eyes that he almost fell across the table.
"I am plenty modern, George Crabtree," she informed him.
Oh, believe me, I'm aware, Miss Newsome. "Well," he said nonchalantly, scooping up a piece of the pie crust on his plate, "belts, corsets…" He eyed her, watching her reaction. "I say we do away with the lot of them."
Her fork slipped from her fingers. "Shall we get the bill?" she suggested.
"Mmhm." He smirked and motioned for their server. I believe I win.
"You really should see a doctor about that foot," Effie chided him in a whisper as she helped him through her door. Though his boarding house was much closer, Effie had the advantage of being on the ground floor, which made it much easier for George on his foot. George managed to hobble over to the lounger while Effie closed the door.
"Effie, the only person-oof-" George grunted as he half-sat, half-fell onto the lounger, setting the cane beside him. He looked up at her. "The only person I'd like to see right now is you."
She locked her door and turned around slowly. "You're injured," she said. "I don't think-"
"There's a great many who think that shouldn't," George told her, carefully sliding his jacket off his shoulders. "And right now, you're one of them."
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you think that you can just order me around after being gone for weeks, spending part of that time with another woman behind my back?"
He loosened his tie. "Effie, I was kidnapped," he pointed out, tugging his tie off and throwing it to the floor. "I spent the better part of the last two days tied to a chair with a broken foot in the presence of a madwoman!"
Effie came over, sat down on the bed across from him. "I was so worried about you," she confessed, the playful banter suddenly taking a serious turn. George stopped fumbling with his shirt buttons and looked up at her. "When Henry that you'd been seen with another woman, I…" She bit her bottom lip and looked down at her hands in her lap. "I-I just thought-"
I'm going to kill Higgins.
George shook his head in annoyance of his partner. Effie Newsome presented herself as a modern woman, and she was that, George knew. Suffragette, attorney for the defense, but under that, clearly, George realized, a woman, nonetheless. George pushed himself onto his feet, and came over to sit next to her. "The only thing I could think about," he confessed to her, "the whole time I was in that chair…was that if she…" He paused, not wanting to upset Effie, but wanting to tell her the honest-to-God truth. "If something would happen to me, that I would never have gotten a proper goodbye from you," he said finally. "You're all I could think about." He blinked. "Well, that and perhaps hoping Detective Murdoch would come break down the door, preferably before she broke another limb..."
"Don't joke," Effie whispered, and George grimaced. Nice going, George.
He took her hands in both of his. "I'm sorry I worried you," he told her. He cleared his throat. "I mean, I couldn't help it, but I'm sorry anyway."
George waited. Effie was quiet. She wasn't crying, or anything, she was just…quiet. It was a different kind of quiet, George thought, than the long bouts of silence when Amelia had been reading his 'edited' ending…he never quite knew if she was going to go off at any second. That silence had been terrifying.
This silence…it was almost refreshing. He felt calm and relaxed with Effie, not on edge in the slightest. It just felt…right.
After a few moments, Effie slipped her hands out of his grip, and began fiddling with his shirt buttons. He looked up at her.
"I can't stand the thought of that…that woman hurting you," Effie admitted quietly as George pulled his shirttails from his trousers so she could get the last few buttons. She gently slid the shirt off his shoulders so he was sitting in his undershirt and trousers.
"A kiss might make it better," George replied, testing the waters.
She slowly slid her hands up his arms to his shoulders. He shivered as she carefully kissed him where his neck met his shoulders, then his jawline. His pulse throbbed. "W-we might have to take it easy," he reminded her.
"That's why," Effie replied, pulling her hairpins so her brown hair fell loose around her shoulders, "you're going to relax, and let me take care of you."
He tensed, and she caught it, looking at him in concern. George waved her off. "It's-it's nothing."
"It's not nothing," Effie burst out. "We need to get you to Toronto General."
"It's not that," George assured her. He took a breath and let it out. "That's...that's what she said. That she couldn't let me go because she wanted to 'take care' of me," he explained. "I-It's not you, Effie. I swear it."
He reached up and caught her hands in his, carefully turned her around and tucked her hair over her shoulder so he could help her with the back of her dress. "I'm sorry," he told her. "I'm afraid this got to me more than I believed it had." He paused. "Perhaps, I-I should go home tonight. Maybe I...maybe we just need some-"
She turned and kissed him so fast and so soundly he nearly fell backwards. Or, perhaps not. When she finally broke off the kiss, they were both breathing heavily. Fingers, trembling, George turned her back around slowly and returned to work on her corset. "It's um, it's been awhile, but I think I remember how this goes."
"I hope..." Effie said quietly, playing with her hair, "I hope that it gives you something else to concentrate on. I'm sorry I said anything."
"Don't be," George countered quickly. "You couldn't have known."
His light touch on the laces of her corset left her tingling. She let out a sigh of happiness as he loosened them. "I missed you, too. Next time, you're not allowed to be gone nearly as long."
"Next time?" George said thoughtfully, pausing on the laces so he could kiss the back of her neck, "I'll just take you with me. That way, my 'modern woman' can protect me."
She gasped and whirled to face him. He grinned at the look of shock on her face. "What?" he asked with a smirk. "After all, I was the one in distress," he reminded her.
Effie reached for a pillow and whacked him in the chest with it. "Hey!" he protested. "I'm still in distress, mind you!"
She smirked back at him. "Then save yourself," she told him. "You're good at that."
George laughed, pulling her down onto the bed with him. "Not tonight. Tonight, I'm perfectly happy to leave that to you."
Author's Note:I debated throwing this out as it's own oneshot, like "Arresting Behavior," but I think it fits better here as a missing scene. Had I gone any farther with the back half though, I might've ;)