A/N: When I first heard in Season 1 that Scarlet and William had kissed as teenagers, I always wondered exactly what that might have been like. I'm happy to hear that in Season 4, they'll be having a flashback episode that might show this particular incident. Before that happens, here's what I hope/imagine what might have been.

The Case of the Poisoned Pooch

Chapter 1: Every Dog Has Its Day

November, 1873

"Something is terribly wrong with Skip, Ivy," said Eliza, her blue eyes bright with unshed tears.

Ivy looked up from the bread she was kneading, then stopped completely as she saw the fear on the young girl's face. "What has happened, Lizzie?"

Eliza sniffed, bravely trying to gather herself, but when she spoke, her voice hitched and trembled. "He—he didn't come in last night through his little door, and when I went out into the garden, I-I found him. He's very cold and still—I covered him with my cloak and he opened his eyes, but—but he only whined softly at me and I was afraid to move him…Oh Ivy, please come!"

Ivy wiped her hands on her apron as she followed Eliza out the kitchen door and into the small, fenced back yard of the Scarlets' London townhouse. The little terrier was under a birch tree, very still and small beneath Eliza's blue wool cloak. Eliza knelt beside the dog, heedless of her already stained dress, and gently jostled Skip. Ivy noted the nearby evidence that the dog had been sick, and shuddered inwardly, bracing herself for what she dreaded to see. With a disturbing jerk, the dog gave a last, painful moan, and expired, its mouth foaming, its pink tongue lolling out in repose.

"Skip—no!

Eliza lost the tenuous control of her tears and wailed in sadness, picking up her pet and cradling its lifeless little body in her arms, her face buried in its wiry fur. Ivy dropped beside Eliza and gathered both girl and beast into her arms, holding Eliza as she cried as if she'd lost her only friend. After what seemed like an hour, Eliza's heaving grief had begun to subside, so Ivy began pulling away, for both of them were chilled by the brisk autumn wind.

"Lizzie, we must get up. Poor little Skip needs to be laid to rest now."

Besides, Ivy thought, God only knows what was wrong with the unfortunate creature. That foaming mouth seemed very suspicious; she hoped nothing it had was catching. "Leave him be, and we'll have your father give him a proper burial when he gets home from the Yard."

"I can't leave him like this all day," she said, tears coming again. "Can we please send for him?"

Ivy looked at the girl whom she had seen to along with her housekeeping duties since Eliza was very small. Her mother, Mrs. Lavinia Scarlet, was currently away in Bath, attending to her ailing mother, so, as it had happened often over the years, Ivy was left to act as a second mother to her, even though Eliza was nearly a grown woman now, all of sixteen. But it was all very fitting, seeing as Ivy loved her as much as she might have her own daughter. She sighed indulgently.

"Yes, we may send for him, though he might be a long time in coming. I know he left early this morning when one of his officers came to collect him. Something about a new case…"

Despite her grief, Eliza's ears seemed to perk up. "Is it a murder?"

Ivy frowned. "Young ladies shouldn't think of such things. Now, please Lizzie, let's go inside before you catch your death." She regretted the phrase immediately as Eliza's face fell again, and hastened to add: "Let me get you some tea and heat up those currant scones from yesterday."

Finally, Eliza relented, setting the dog down again, this time reverently covering the whole body with her cloak. Ivy mentally cringed as she thought of having to clean the expensive garment later.

Eliza wrote a brief note for the maid to deliver to her father at Scotland Yard.

Papa,

Please come as soon as possible. Skip has died under mysterious circumstances, and I don't know what to do.

Yours desperately,

Lizzie

She re-read it twice through, tears falling again at the thought of her father coming to put his arms around her and tell her everything would be all right. She thought she'd imbued enough urgency and intrigue to hasten him along, knowing how much he loved her and cared for her welfare as well as the idea that a mystery awaited him. Satisfied with the missive, she folded it and hurriedly addressed it:

Chief Inspector Scarlet

Scotland Yard

"I know he'll be along as soon as he's able," said Ivy, serving them both tea and scones at the cozy kitchen table. She was of the traditional mind that there was nothing a spot of tea couldn't make better.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Forty-five minutes later, there came a knock on the door. The maid had returned with no news other than she'd given her note to that nice Constable Wellington, who'd promised to pass it along to Mr. Scarlet directly.

"Perhaps Father forgot his key," said Eliza now, rising and hurrying to the door before the maid could get there. But it was not Chief Inspector Scarlet.

"Oh, it's only you," she said, at the appearance of the tall constable, clad smartly in his dark uniform, complete with brass buttons and belt, gold filigreed helmet adding another six inches to his already considerable height.

He definitely surpassed the height requirements for the job, was her errant thought as her eyes flitted over his firm, smooth-shaven jaw and dark eyebrows. She acknowledged his handsomeness abstractly, pushing aside the leap her heart had taken at his appearance on her doorstep. She'd come to accept her reaction as a given, though she wanted no part of the sardonic Scotsman, who at the moment, was looking down at her with annoyed green eyes.

"Aye, sorry to disappoint you," William Wellington replied dryly to her less than complimentary greeting.

"Where's my father?"

"Busy with a verra important case, so of course, he sent me to see what was so desperate about your…situation." He held up the note she'd written, and she snatched it angrily from his hand.

"That was only for him to see. But if you've read it, you know that I found Skip dead. I believe he's been poisoned, and I know exactly who did it."

One thick brow shot up. "Skip is your blasted rat catcher, isn't he? Why would anyone want to kill the bloody thing, aside from the fact that the bugger barks to no end."

"He's a Jack Russel, as you well know, a very honorable, well-behaved breed."

William rolled his eyes at that blatant falsehood. "Forgetting the motive for now, who do you suspect would have poisoned it?"

Seeing that the young constable was not leaving, and was the best she could do until her father arrived, she stood aside with a heavy sigh and ushered him in. She'd known her father's charity case for a year now, but had known of his existence long before that, when, upon a trip to Glasgow on police business, Henry Scarlet had rescued young William from a savage beating outside a workhouse.

He'd bought William's way out of his share of his family's debt and taken the adolescent back to London, where he'd cleaned him up and set him to running errands for the police when he wasn't attending school. Henry had been impressed that William had already known how to read and write, at how bright he was, how intuitive and eager to learn a real trade. As payment for running errands, Henry paid his keep at a boarding house near the school. While her father would frequently mention William's progress, he had considered the young man too rough yet to introduce to his wife and daughter, and Lavinia Scarlet indulged her husband in this act of charity as proof of his caring heart. Eliza, on the other hand, was secretly jealous of his attentions to this boy, who was doing everything she might have done for Scotland Yard had she been a boy herself. It simply wasn't fair.

But a year ago, when William had turned eighteen and was eligible to begin training to become a constable, Henry had invited him to dine with his family. While her mother was instantly taken with William's innate charm and good looks, he and Eliza were like chalk and cheese, forming an instant dislike for one another. Never mind their mutual attraction; Eliza felt he purposely vexed her, bringing out the very worst in her. After dinner that first time, she'd had to sit through a lecture from her mother about propriety and ladylike behavior. Calling a young man a "Scottish jolterhead" was no way to address a guest at their table. She'd pouted in her room for an entire day, silently blaming William for everything.

But from then on, she'd had to suffer his company for dinner once or twice a month, forcing herself to bite her tongue lest she incur her mother's wrath again. His arrival on Christmas Day, however, was almost more than she could bear.

"Why must he be here?" she demanded of her father when he'd informed her earlier of their guest for Christmas dinner.

"Now, Lizzie, William is far away from his family, and no one should be alone for Christmas. I expect that you won't upset your mother or our guest with your rudeness. One ill word and there'll be no Christmas pudding for you." She wisely didn't point out that those kinds of threats from him were always empty ones; the prospect of his disappointment in her was threat enough.

"Very well. But if he goes on again about my dog, I won't be responsible for my actions. He called him a hellhound, Papa!"

Henry tried very hard not to grin, and he held his daughter's eyes intently. "Lizzie, this man is in my employ, so I expect that, especially at Christmas, you will show respect to me by showing respect to him. You are a Scarlet, after all, not to mention how such vitriol is unbecoming to a young lady."

Duly chastened, Eliza hung her head. "Yes, Papa."

"There's my good girl," he said, lovingly caressing her cheek and smiling to lighten the mood.

That evening, Eliza was on her best behavior, and William seemed to be on his as well. Afterwards, as her mother played carols on the spinet and they gathered round to sing (William in his deep, surprisingly musical voice), the two teenagers met eyes and Eliza felt her cheeks flush at his regard. His slow smile made her heart flutter, faltering over the lyrics of "Good King Wenceslas." His eyes sparkled at her knowingly.

The whole affair amused Henry, who, as a cunning inspector, was not insensitive to the undercurrents between them. His secret hope was that one day, the seemingly disparate pair would find their way to each other. William already had the makings of a fine policeman, his experiences with the depravity of the workhouse making him a shrewd judge of criminal behaviors. What's more, he was an honest, earnest fellow, respectful of those who respected him; having little patience with those who didn't, and the fighting skills to back it up. Above all, William had principles, despite his rough upbringing. He valued the law and understood the need for it, perhaps because of the injustices he'd witnessed in Glasgow.

A few more years and Henry would be proud to have such a man as a son-in-law. It would take his wife, Lavinia, the daughter of a well-respected banker, to offer her approval first, hence William's monthly invitations to dinner to try to win her over.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Nearly a year later, still mostly oblivious to her father's machinations, Eliza looked up at the pained expression of the newly commissioned constable, the very last person she wanted to see in her father's stead.

"There's no doubt in my mind that Mr. Collins is the perpetrator of this heinous crime," she declared.

"That kind ol' gent from next door?"

"Ha," she scoffed. "How can a man be counted kind if he obviously has a hatred for small, spirited dogs? He's complained to my father on numerous occasions that Skip's barking was intolerable, so I've been forced to keep him inside for most of the day, when he so loves-loved to play in the garden, chasing squirrels." She paused to blink back tears. Not for a million pounds would she allow William Wellington to see her cry. "But I caught Mr. Collins feeding Skip bits of liver over the fence just two days ago. That would have been the perfect opportunity to poison him."

William regarded her thoughtfully a moment, his interest piqued in spite of himself. For one thing, he could completely understand why someone would want to poison that tiny menace. Why, just the month before, the wee dobber had bitten a hole in the leg of his new uniform trousers and managed to dig a tooth into his ankle. Had Eliza and her father not been there, he'd have kicked the mutt across the room. It had cost him an entire shilling for his landlady to scrub out the blood and sew up the hole in his pants so it couldn't be seen, which had only added to his hatred of the animal. He was surprised Eliza hadn't counted himself as a prime suspect.

"Where is the body?" William asked, suddenly all business.

Eliza was momentarily taken aback at his decision to take her claims seriously. "In the garden," she said, and he held out a hand indicating she lead the way.

Though she was surprised to see him, Ivy greeted William fondly on their way through the kitchen, and she was gifted with the constable's warmest smile before he followed Eliza out the back door.

"Inspector Scarlet couldn't make it just yet, so he sent me to see to the uh, animal," he explained.

"I'm sure you're more than capable of handling things," she replied.

"William, are you coming?" said Eliza impatiently, already out the door and down the steps.

William shook his head and exchanged indulgent smiles with the housekeeper. It's no as if the dog was goin' anywhere, he thought uncharitably.

"Do be kind," Ivy murmured, rightly reading his expression. "She's had a shock."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, then touched the small brim of his helmet before following Eliza outside.

William studied what his training had taught him to be a possible crime scene, noting the makeshift blue wool shroud and the evidence of a recently sick dog. He squatted down and gingerly drew back Eliza's cloak. Eliza, thinking of how a true detective must become immune to the worst atrocities, drew a deep breath and leaned over the body of her little dog, forcing herself to take a clinical look.

"Notice the foam about the mouth," she said to William, pleased her voice was at least somewhat strong. "Clear evidence of arsenic poisoning."

"We mustn't jump to conclusions, Eliza. There are plenty of illnesses that could cause such a reaction."

"If we had a Marsh test, we could determine whether it was arsenic, as I suspect it is."

He looked up at her. "Do you have access to such an item?"

"No, but a constable from Scotland Yard might have," she hinted.

William didn't comment, but picked up a stick and began poking around the body, thinking his recent observations in the morgue had lent him a new understanding of death, though he was by no means familiar with veterinarian medicine. How different could it be? he wondered. He looked up at Eliza's involuntary gasp at his less than reverent treatment of her deceased pet.

"Perhaps you should wait inside. This must be…uncomfortable for you to watch."

She shook her head, though her face had gone quite pale. "Please, go on. I—I want to learn."

His brow furrowed, and he stood to face her. "Why?"

"I am studying to be a detective." Though he was quite a bit taller than her, she stood confidently next to him.

He laughed. "What? You're bammin' me."

She lifted her chin. "No, I am not. How else do you think I know of the Marsh test for arsenic poisoning?"

He'd supposed she'd heard of the test from her father. "I've never heard of a lady detective. It's a ridiculous notion."

His skepticism didn't surprise her, but it was still annoying. "Well, someday you will hear of one. Meantime, my first case will be discovering who murdered Skip."

"Your father entrusted me to come in his place and assess the situation. He made no mention of your involvement, other than I report whether you are well."

"You can run along then and tell him I am quite well. I believe your work here is done, Constable."

"It seems to me that if this was in fact foul play, it is now a police matter. Killing another man's livestock or pet is against the law."

"Well, Skip was my pet, and I mean to discover what happened to him. I don't need any help from the police, unless it's from my father."

They regarded one another in mutual frustration. William had been assigned a job by the Chief Inspector himself, and he'd be damned if he'd let this nippy lass interfere, even if she was the boss's daughter. He hadn't known Eliza Scarlet for long, but he knew enough that she was determined, and if he didn't include her somehow in at least in some superficial way, she would go around him and end up getting in his way. He forced his expression to relax, his voice to sound soothing.

"Eliza, I know this is very difficult for you. Let's make an agreement: I promise to keep you informed of what I discover, if you kindly let me do my job."

"What are you planning to do, exactly?" she asked evasively.

"First, I intend to have the dog tested to see for certain he was poisoned—"

"The Marsh test?"

"Yes, or whatever the coroner decides is necessary."

"All right. Then what?"

William gritted his teeth, reaching inward for much-needed patience.

"If it's determined the dog was poisoned, I'll begin searching the area for possible ways he might have come in contact with the poison."

"And will you question Mr. Collins? Like I told you, he would be my prime suspect. He-"

William held up a staying hand. "I will question all your neighbors."

She studied him a moment, trying to decide if he was covering all the possibilities, for to be sure, whatever he didn't do that she thought was necessary, she would do herself. To his amusement, she held out her hand to seal the deal.

"Fine. I will agree to let you handle this—for now."

"And you promise to stay out of it?"

"Unless I see you're not conducting the investigation in a timely and logical manner."

He realized that this was probably about as good a deal as he was going to get from her. He took her hand, feeling a frisson of pleasure as her small, soft hand disappeared inside his large, callused one. Still, he had a sneaking suspicion that she was going to do whatever she wanted no matter what she agreed to. This way, at least, he'd be able to appeal to her honor if he caught her trying to circumvent him. Even so, as he looked at the way the morning sun lit her bonnie blue eyes, he found himself reluctant to release her hand.

"Now, if you'll go get an old blanket I can wrap him in, I'll take him to the morgue. I don't think Ivy or your father would appreciate your sacrificing such a nice cloak."

She nodded and went inside to ask Ivy for a blanket.

William turned his gaze back to the poor dead animal. It occurred to him that bringing a dog into the morgue might cause him to become an object of ridicule among his new fellow constables. He physically cringed thinking about it. So, on second thought, perhaps he would ask around for a nearby veterinarian to exam it. Since this would take away from his usual duties, he supposed he should ask Chief Inspector Scarlet for permission to proceed. It would be for his daughter, he would reason, and it could indeed be a crime against the Scarlet family's property. But for William, it was much more than that. It was a chance to show his initiative, his investigative skills, even though it wasn't a human victim. A side bonus was his hope that in doing his daughter this kindness, he would be getting in good with his supervisor, maybe going a little way toward repaying Henry for all that he had done for him.

William gently toed Skip's lifeless body. "Well, ya wee tadger, maybe your miserable life will have some meaning after all."

A/N: I just want to say, the negative views of dogs expressed by William are his, and not mine, lol. I hope you like this so far. Please let me know. And while you're waiting for the next chapter, please check out my other MSATD fic, "Police Protection." Thanks for reading!