Disclaimer: I don't own the characters; they belong to Shaftesbury & the CBC.

Chapter Five

George knocked on Detective Murdoch's office door later that evening. The detective was turned, facing his blackboard, one hand on his chin. It was a familiar pose, one that George had often caught his friend standing in during a case. So he knew to knock again, and then enter slowly. He crossed the room, his boots clacking on the floor in the quiet. He had no idea if Detective Murdoch knew he was in the room. The hand that wasn't on his chin was holding onto a piece of chalk.

The constable studied the board. The detective had written down the names of their three suspects on one side, and on the other the information about the victim, Brendan Walsh. "Seeing anything yet, Detective?" George asked him.

Murdoch shook his head without turning around. "Not yet, George, not yet."

"Anything else I can help you with this evening, sir?"

Murdoch turned, gave him a small smile and a shake of the head. "No. Thank you, though."

"William? Oh, George, hello," Dr. Julia Ogden entered the office, her coat over one arm.

"Dr. Ogden," George nodded politely to her. Her husband was still staring intently at the blackboard, and she sighed and shook her head.

"Have you recovered from this morning?" she asked George with a smile.

He grinned. "Feeling a little sore yet from my 'hostage experience', but I'll manage." He gave the doctor a once-over. "You look wonderful, if you don't mind me saying so." His voice raised on that sentence, trying to get the Detective to turn around.

The two of them waited. Murdoch scribbled something on the board, frowned, and erased it.

Julia rolled her eyes and set her jacket over the chair and George stepped back with a mock bow, giving her a clear path to her husband. He waited, amused. The doctor stood behind her husband and slid her arms around his waist. The touch was all it took to startle the detective out of his musings and turn to look at his wife. "Julia," he breathed. "What-that is, what are you-"

He took a moment, studying her long blue dress and made-up face. "The theatre. Right." He clapped a hand to his forehead. "I'm so sorry, I got caught up."

"I thought you might," Julia replied, "which is why I'm here an hour early. You've enough time to change before the carriage arrives."

Murdoch frowned. "Oh, but my suit-"

"You look fine with the one you have on," Julia told him. "Your tails are hardly necessary for this." She kissed him on the cheek. "Put the chalk down, William."

"You need to borrow the handcuffs, Dr. Ogden?" George offered cheekily. "Drag him away?"

The detective's ears tinged pink. "That…won't be necessary," he stammered. George shared a wink with Julia as she escorted her husband from the office. The constable shook his head. For the brightest man George knew, sometimes, William Murdoch could be completely clueless. George made sure to close the detective's door behind him as he stepped out of the room. John Brackenreid was still at his desk-George saw the list of employees from Parkington Whiskey in front of him on the typewriter. "John. Aren't you off the clock?" he asked him.

"I-" John looked at his watch, then up at George. "Yes sir, a half hour ago."

George shook his head. "Those men'll still be on that list in the morning, you know."

"I know." George waited, sensing the young man had something more to say. "I just, I want to make sure I didn't miss anything today," John finished.

"John, I'm sure you're doing just fine on this case," George assured him. "The Inspector-your father-or Detective Murdoch would tell you otherwise. Or I would. In fact, what I would say is that your hard work today has earned you a drink."

John shook his head. "Oh, I don't know, George," he protested.

George clapped him on the shoulder. "Fine. You can keep me company while I drink then," he told him. "You, ah, ever been to the Star Room?"

John's eyes widened. "The Star Room?"

George winked. "Is there another one I don't know about?" Then he paused. "Wait, is there another one?"

The Star Room

George couldn't help but laugh at the scandalized look on his partner's face as they stepped off the stairs and into the Star Room. The infamous burlesque club was already in full swing. George took a look at John's jacket and tie and laughed. "You're a bit stiff for this place," he informed him over the din. "Lose the tie, John," he urged. To prove a point, he unbuttoned the top button and the cuffs of his own shirt. "You're off the clock; might as well enjoy it."

John didn't hear him. His eyes were firmly transfixed onstage at the young, blonde haired dancer in a baseball jersey and ruffled skirt doing some very suggestive things with a bat. George grinned and pulled the younger man over to a table almost in the middle of the room. He waved over a waiter and ordered a round for the two of them. "Her name's Anna," George explained. "The Diamond Darling," he added when John finally turned to look at him.

He saw John processing that. "You come here a lot, then?" John asked him over the din of the crowd.

George nodded. "Find it's a good place to blow off some steam most days," he said. "The beer is cold, the piano's hot, and-" here he nodded to the stage with a grin, "-there's a hell of a view."

"If it isn't my favorite Mr. Wednesday!"

George looked up as a dancer plopped herself into his lap. She was wearing a custodian's helmet and constable jacket…and not much below that. John's eyes were as large as saucers. She had curly brown hair and big brown eyes, rouged lips, and a twinkle in her eye.

George smiled. "Evening, Nina. John, allow me to introduce you to the dark-haired darling of the Star Room, Miss Nina Bloom."

Nina offered John a hand. The young man stared at it awkwardly. "Generally, you shake it or kiss it," Nina teased him. "First time?"

John coughed. "Yes, ma'am," he replied.

She winked at him and turned to George. "Well, he's in for quite the show this evening," she told the two of them. She ran a fingernail down the side of George's face suggestively.

"He won't be staying that late," George promised her quickly. "Speaking of, isn't it almost your turn up there?"

Nina smiled. "Trying to get rid of me, George Crabtree?"

John found his voice again. "You're, um, you're impersonating an officer."

George smirked as Nina slid off his lap. She bent over the table until she was eye level with John, giving John a good look at her. "Come to arrest me, John?" she questioned him, and with that, she sauntered off toward the stage door.

John took a long pull of his beer. "How do you know her?" he asked George, when he finally got his breath back.

George shook his head. "Put your eyes back in their sockets, John. She helped out with a case awhile back. We've been, ah, acquainted, ever since."

John processed that. "Acquainted how?"

George shot him a look. "I give her pointers on her act," he said dryly.

His friend maintained his deer-in-headlights look. "Does she have a friend?" he asked finally, and George chuckled behind the bottle in his hand.

The music changed to an upbeat number and Nina Bloom took the stage. Neither of the two said much after that.