A/N: Since I promised the dear Miss Nyte Quill an update for an update, here is IV from Reid's perspective. Which for some reason hasn't turned out as I wanted it to, but alas, here it is anyway.
Wandering through a sleeping London, Edmund Reid scarcely knew where he was going; but even though he thought he was making random turns and walking through streets and alleys with no particular destination in mind, it appeared his feet knew more than him. After walking for a while (he had lost all sense of time and not seen the face of a clock since before he had started his aimless stroll), he was quite astonished to find himself facing the familiar building of Miss Goren's Jewish orphanage. He stood, wondering how he had gotten there and contemplated his next step.
Surely she had already gone to sleep at this hour? It seemed most definitely too late for him to make an unannounced visit, but then again he was already there. Without daring to admit it to himself, he longed for company tonight; particularly Miss Goren's. The sound of her voice alone would soothe his unsettled nerves and he would not stay for more than half an hour...
His mind thus made up, he crossed the last distance to her door and knocked. If she was already asleep, so he thought, she would not hear the tap, and he was still deciding whether he wished for her to answer or not when the door was cracked open. At the sight of her face, betraying her surprise, Edmund felt relieved, although he still could not tell if he had made the right decision. Even as she led him to the only lit room of the house, he felt uneasy. He was disturbing her, interrupting her precious time alone... He had almost made up his mind to take his leave again when she encouraged him to stay.
Sitting down, he felt a multitude of words and sentences bubbling inside him, longing to be let out. There was so much he longed to talk about - longed to tell her, to share with her, knowing that she would gladly lend her ear to listen; yet nothing made it past his lips and so he was left hoping that his silence was not misinterpreted. Even as she asked tentative questions he felt himself unable to answer. Overcome by the intensity of the emotions he had kept under lock until now, as well as a leaden tiredness falling over him, his tongue was tied. But there was nothing he needed to say out loud. Their communication worked in miraculous ways and she knew just what to say and do. He need not speak to her about the tragedy that had befallen the station, or the guilt he felt. It seemed she read it all in the features of his face and intuitively knew how to behave.
A pleasant shiver ran through him as her hand touched his. His fingers twitched to return the reassuring gesture, but the moment was brief. The suggestion that followed surprised him, even with her clarification. It was just what he needed, though he had not been able to identify the longing himself. He was amazed at the courage she showed, suggesting bed to him in such a manner, but was quick to follow her in order to quell any doubts or regrets she might develop.
Having reached the bedroom - sparsely furnished and dimly lit by the single candle she was carrying - she turned away from him and began to undress tentatively. Her timidity touched him as he followed her lead and slipped out of his shoes and draped his suit over a nearby chair. His clothes thus shed he found himself with nothing left to do and his eyes began to wander... Her dress discarded, he could not help but notice the lines of her body, still pulled together tightly by the corset she was wearing and his heart began to beat faster. Some curls had escaped her tight bun in the process of getting undressed and were now resting softly against her skin, creating a stark contrast of black against the white of her shoulder. His fingers dug into his cotton-clad thighs, aching to reach out for her, just as his legs were itching to cross the distance between them, but he remembered his decency and fixed his eyes firmly to the ground as she went to work on the hooks of her corset.
He had known attraction before, of course, but the burning in his chest was an unfamiliar sensation. She seemed to emanate an almost magnetic pull, drawing him irresistibly closer into her sphere with every meeting. There was something so special and unique about her that he had never recognized in other women before...
As she turned to join him in bed, his contemplations came to a halt. The flickering candlelight had turned her into an almost ghostly presence before his eyes and he was surprised to find her made out of flesh and blood after all when he took a chance and drew himself closer to her. Breathing in the scent of her untamed locks, and listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing, he was soon overwhelmed by the nearly forgotten comfort of another body beside him as he finally let himself be overcome by sleep.