Disclaimer: If you recognise it, I don't own it. Murdoch Mysteries belongs to Maureen Jennings, YTV and ALIBI
Tom Brackenreid had barely opened his mouth to speak when Sophie, George and Annabelle rushed in together, Sophie yelling something about Will
"What's he done now?" he wanted to know, "shorted out the office? Caused the entire database to crash again? Locked himself and everyone else out of the intranet?"
The four of them stared at him, Will with confusion and the other three looking as if they were trying to work out how to break it to him.
"Well, come on then! Out with it! One of you!"
"Well, sir," George began, "his head injury was a bit worse than we thought and, um-"
"What George is trying to say, Uncle Tom," Anna stepped in, "is that it was maybe Will shouldn't be here right now?"
"Then why the bloody 'ell is he here?" his tone when speaking to Anna was a lot softer than it would've been to George, but even so, there was steel in his voice, something that said he wouldn't take evasiveness in lieu of a proper answer
"He insisted," George told him meekly and unconsciously entwined his fingers with Anna's, giving them a squeeze for reassurance, "so we brought him here but um…"
"But it has since arisen within our minds that perhaps Will is not as recovered from his injury as he thought" Sophie put in smoothly, "perhaps it's wisest to give him a few days off?"
"I do not require any leave!" Will protested, and finally Sophie understood what George had meant by 'formal' "I am perfectly fine and I have evidence that could provide a lead in the current murder case"
Brackenreid looked at him, his expression expectant but clearly giving the message of 'this had better be good'
"I believe I have a lead in the current murder case, a suspect at least"
"Oh really?" the inspector now looked interested, "and how'd you find this suspect? And who is it?"
"Sean O'Reily. Miss Whittering had a photograph of him on her desk at…at her abode" he was cautious about broaching the subject of George and Annabelle's odd living arrangement, lest it annoy the inspector.
"Anna?" Brackenreid now turned his attention, once more, to his niece, "what the 'ell are you doing with photographs of murder suspects hanging around on your desk?"
"Um, Tom…" George interjected gently, "I think that's something Will dreamed, which is why he needs time off. He's seeing things"
"I know what I saw," Will paused, he had seen them, hadn't he? But then they were gone and… "Perhaps," he said finally, "it's wisest that I take a leave of absence today"
Sophie nodded, "I think that's a good idea" she said, addressing Tom, "I'll drive him home if you find the paperwork for him to sign?"
"Alright," the inspector nodded back, "He's getting a week to sort his head out, if he's not right after that, I'm signing him up to see the psychologist. I want you three to keep an eye on him and I don't want you making up things to protect him because I don't want to see him back here until he's fit for work, understand?"
"Yes Sir!"
"Understood, Monsieur Brackenreid"
"OK, Uncle"
"Right," Tom nodded, "now get out of here, the lot of you…go on, out!"
Less than three minutes later, all three of them stood in the corridor outside the office
"…Coffee?" Sophie suggested, "then we'll take him home"
"Good idea" George nodded, "Anna, you don't have to be back at the office?"
"Working from home today, I was told not to come in until Thursday, when The Brothers come in to give a verdict on the designs"
"The brothers?" Will asked, blinking at her
"The Quay Brothers, pair of identical twins from Philadelphia, film makers. I haven't seen much of the story line for the production but they have specific ideas for what they want"
"The wings with ribbon in your sketch book" he said slowly
"Right," she nodded enthusiastically, "it's supposed to symbolise how the female lead's freedom is being restricted even as-"
"Anna, you're going into 'artist' mode, now stop it or I won't buy you a brownie at the coffee shop" George joked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "we've heard this before"
"Oui," Sophie tapped her on the shoulder in mild reprimand, before taking Will's arm, "come along, we must put some caffeine back into the systems before we get you home"
"…home" he muttered gently.
When, exactly, had Toronto become so crowded? William found himself wondering, he was now sat at a round table with an odd pattern of cups somehow embedded into it's surface, a large mug of…something before him.
It smelt sweet and oddly bitter.
"What is this?" he asked Sophie, who was sat at his right
"What you always ask for, a double-decaff, triple-mocha coffee with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles," she informed him, raising an eyebrow as she raised her own mug to her lips, "I've never been able to understand how you can drink those" she said, taking a slow sip before she released a sigh of pleasure
"Probably explains why he had 2 cavities at his last dental check-up" Annabelle giggled gently, she didn't have a mug or a cup, until a few seconds later when George appeared and promptly placed a steaming mug of something and a medium sized cake on a small plate in front of her
"Sweets for my sweetie," he announced, flopping into the chair beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders
"Aww, cheesy line but said with feeling," Anna gave him a kiss on the cheek and leaned into the arm around her.
William promptly choked on the coffee he'd taken a sip of at the overt display of affection between the courting pair, Sophie companionably slapped him on the back until the coughing subsided.
"You two, PDA's, please" she said as his breathing returned to normal, "you promised to tone it down, you sickeningly happy lovebirds"
"Oh my...George, Anna...Really now." William finally managed to sputter, feeling more than a little scandalised "this is a public place! You must not act so shamefully!"
"…not like she French kissed me" George pointed out after a few moments of silence
"Not for a brownie, George," Anna answered dryly, "a lemon and poppy seed muffin on the other hand…"
"You two are giving me cavities," Sophie chuckled good-naturedly, "by the way George, terrible chat up line, I'm confiscating the cake," so saying she reached across the table and began to pull the small plate towards her
"Hey, that's my brownie!" her friend said with only a token protest, "all you had to do was ask if you wanted some"
"Fifty-Fifty?" the Parisian offered, still holding the plate with the confectionary item on it.
"Like our rent used to be back before we clawed our way up the respective ranks" Annabelle nodded, as George rolled his eyes before grabbing (gently) the plate away from Sophie
"Excuse me? Who paid for it?" he asked, in a lightly teasing tone, leaving William to wonder if George were hedging his bets and attempting to court both women, but then again, what woman would put up with that so openly?
"You bought it for Anna and I'm her best friend so I get to share it with her, with her say so"
"Thirds?" Anna suggested, and then paused, "can you split a square brownie into three?"
"If you cut it into Isosceles Triangles, maybe" George concluded doubtfully
"Let's not forget the injured party, Will should have some too"
"Somehow, quarter of a brownie doesn't seem worth it"
"Um…I am quite fine," Will said, taking a long drink of his coffee (it was infinitely more palatable now that it was filled with sweet things, unlike the bitter drink he recalled trying at the rowing club)
"And it keeps on amazing me how he drinks that without going into a sugar coma – maybe we should call the Guinness book of records?"
"I think it only counts as a record if he can drink 43 of them in 20 minutes without that happening"
"Speaking as someone who's been on stake-outs with him, I can confirm he's not too far off a record"
William wasn't too sure that he liked the burst of laughter that broke out at that comment, but it seemed to be good natured ribbing rather than at his expense, however, the dizziness and mild pain was making itself know and if he remembered correctly…
"Miss Mercier…" he paused, "Sophie, if you could please escort me home?"
"Is it your head again?" she asked, looking at him in concern
What could he do but nod?
"I really want to go home now" he told her tiredly
"Do you want to take your coffee with you?" Anna asked
"They'll allow me to take this cup?"
"We'll get it put into a take-out cup, no problem," George said, sharing a look with Sophie before raising a hand and beckoning a waiter over.
"Here we are," Sophie announced what seemed like only moments later, turning a key and gently opening the door.
The smell of the place was familiar…like polish and brass and plaster, but…it wasn't a single room, the way that he remembered. Now it was more like the apartment that George and Annabelle seemed to share.
"I…live here?" he asked finally, turning to Sophie, who nodded in affirmation, but it seemed impossible that all of this space could be his, even on a detective's salary.
Though the place did seem to be done up in his own tastes…all of this space was his?
"…What of Mrs Kitchen?" he asked, wondering if at any moment his landlady would appear.
"Probably at the hospital with her husband, poor man. I wouldn't wish cancer on my worst enemy"
Cancer? But hadn't Mr Kitchen died of Consumption?
He would have voiced this opinion, but something on a shelf caught his eye
"My microscope…" he muttered to himself and wandered over, quite forgetting, for the moment, that Sophie Mercier was there and thus did not see her more than mildly worried look.
As it turned out, it was not just his microscope that was on the shelf in this room, the majority of his forensic and scientific equipment seemed to be here also, he wondered why it should be so, why all of these things were not on his desk in his office at the station and did not realise he had voiced this aloud until Sophie's voice broke into his thoughts
"Because Tom said he didn't want your collection taking up space and gathering dust there"
"Collection? I collect scientific equipment?"
Sophie gave him a look, which made him feel uncomfortable a few seconds later
"Look, go and sit down" she said finally, "I will make you some tea and then, I think, I'll phone your mother"
She vanished before he could react, and so he found himself sitting on a sofa that was almost as comfortable as the one at George and Annabelle's apartment.
He did like this chocolate coloured leather though.
Something Sophie had said just a moment ago presented itself for consideration.
She was going to call his mother…
…His mother was still alive?
Author's Note: Yes, I couldn't resist putting William's mother in here. I felt the poor woman deserved a reality where she hadn't died of a head wound.
Also, I know that Mr Kitchen isn't even mentioned in the show, but he is present in the books…dying of TB. Poor Mrs Kitchen does everything possible to keep him alive and cure his TB (up to and including making him drink seven glasses of warm water). I grew quite fond of Mr Kitchen after he gave William some advice for curing insomnia, basically telling him that there was "no better cure than a roll in the hay with the love of your life".
Since we vaccinate against TB now, I decided for the modern era, Mr Kitchen has cancer (it's nothing personal! I love him really! And hey, he's a fighter, I'll write him being in remission at some point)