Hello, Merry Christmas to all! I wanted to write a small present for any Murdochians out there who appreciate the show and characters as much as I do. This takes place in the season 9 Christmas episode "A Merry Murdoch Christmas", which was Murdoch Mysteries' first-ever Christmas episode, and my favorite by far out of the last few that have been made over the years. If you have not seen the episode, I highly recommend it!
This is an in-between-scene story towards the end of the episode when Christmas had been saved and when William and Julia are seen waking up on Christmas morning.
Disclaimer: I do not own Murdoch Mysteries nor will I ever, all credit goes to Maureen Jennings and the creators of the show.
Please enjoy, and any reviews are appreciated!
"All right, Merry Christmas you lot, I'm off." Inspector Brackenreid gestured a wave with his cane as he left the station house foyer.
After arresting Millicent McGowan and Rankin for the murders of Alister McGowan and Cyrus Lynch, the group consisting of Detective Murdoch, the Inspector, Doctor Ogden, and Constable Crabtree had gone back to town to place them in the station house four cells, where they would remain until the end of the holidays, and afterward would be transferred to a long-term prison for a very, very long time.
In the end, Christmas had been saved, and all was well.
"Merry Christmas to you too, sir." Detective Murdoch said, smiling at the fact that the Scotsman finally acknowledging the holiday with some glee. "Well, we best be getting back ourselves." He turned to his wife, and then looked over at their Christmas guest, curiously tipping his head to the side momentarily. "George?"
George was anxiously looking around, avoiding any eye contact and sheepishly rubbing his head. "I-I should return home, m-my own home." He turned to the married pair. "I know how you both just want to spend Christmas alone. I-I don't want to ruin that for you."
"I.. Um.." William started, tripping over his own words. "Nonsense, George," Julia interjected. "You're more than welcome to spend Christmas with us."
"A-are you sure?" The constable stammered.
William nodded in agreement. "Of course, George. No one should be alone on Christmas."
George smiled genuinely with a rising feeling of joy, almost like a little boy waiting for Christmas morning. "Yes, sir. I-I mean, no, no one should be alone on Christmas. Thank you, thank you both."
They both smiled at the constable. "Now," William offered his arm to his wife as they headed towards the door, she, of course, took it kindly. "Let's go home."
After the Murdoch's bid their friend a good night, George turned off the remaining lamp and got himself settled on the Victorian couch he would be using for the night, straightening out the blanket Julia had laid out for him and giving the pillow he laid against a small pat.
Within only a few minutes though, he felt his bruised shoulders and back begin to protest, making it difficult to get comfortable. The doctor had been made aware of his mild injuries after their return to the hotel, revealing she got similar bruises from tonight's event. William questioned this, showing concern, seeing as he was busy chasing Rankin during most of the affair, he failed to ask what had happened before Mrs. McGowan's arrest. The constable and doctor quickly explained everything, revealing both of them had gotten temporarily knocked out by the not-so-grieving widow.
George gave his side of the story first and then listened to Dr. Ogden's side, having to imagine it all since he had just been waking up on a concrete floor, the inspector shaking his shoulder and asking if he was all right before going to find the doctor.
"I always enjoy a good Christmas punch." Inspector Brackenreid had said after just witnessing the good doctor punching out Mrs. McGowan. George, cradling his head, eventually made his way to the commotion, staring off at what he just witnessed, not finding Dr. Ogden's actions terribly surprising.
"As do I, inspector. As do I." She said back with a satisfied grin.
Now in the present, the constable realized he was lost with his thoughts to the point that his pain had ceased, only until there was a crick in his back that forced him to move, bringing back the dull uncomfortableness. Keeping his frustration to a minimum, George decided to press one of the decorative pillows to his back to hopefully alleviate it some. It wasn't completely comfortable, but it was enough to cause the weary constable to gradually drift off.
After what felt like hours, George awoke abruptly, causing a small pop sound to his sore neck. Oh. He looked at his surroundings. Right. Christmas Eve. McGowan murder. Alone, er, was alone for Christmas.
After sitting up, he looked out toward one of the windows, realizing it was nearly dawn, but enough light was coming in he could tell the time on a clock that hung on one of the walls. Only a couple of hours of sleep... He realized exhaustedly. Only a little less than the previous night. I will just need to go to bed early tonight. The constable concluded that train of thought before his eyes fell on the stockings that lay askew on the dining table.
He saw both Detective Murdoch and Dr. Ogden place something in each other's stockings while the other wasn't currently in the same room the night before, he smiled when he was able to share his family tradition with two of his closest friends.
...What am I doing? George wondered solemnly. It's Christmas morning, this is only the detective's and doctor's second Christmas together since they officially got married. I shouldn't be here. He thought, his eyes never leaving the stockings.
Gradually his mind formed an idea that made his tired eyes grow with excitement. I know what I need to do.
As quietly as he could, George cleaned up the couch he slept on and gathered his coat and boots, pausing briefly to wonder where his constable helmet was. Must've left it at the station house, no matter. He slipped everything on and tiptoed his way out into the hallway of the hotel, proceeding down to the lobby to complete his mission.
After procuring his desired items, he made his way back upstairs to the Murdoch's room, avoiding a lot of concerned eyes and turned heads, not entirely wanting to explain why a constable was in the hotel.
He laid out the items on the dining table and started by placing an orange in each of his friend's stockings, he got them from the hotel's kitchen staff with a fairly good tip as thanks and to show his holiday spirit of giving. Not exactly an ideal present, but it's the thought that counts.
Lastly, he pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket that the front desk had given him and used a pencil from his work notepad to write with. Thank you for Christmas Eve. He paused briefly for the next words. Enjoy your morning. Much appreciation. George Crabtree. The author side of him wanted to write more, but his over-eager-yet-tired mind was having a difficult time, but his short note said it all. And knowing his friends typically woke up early, he wanted to leave before they saw him.
Leaving the hotel in higher spirits than he had felt in days, George still felt a ping of loneliness, a longing to be with the aunts who raised him. But little did he know who would be arriving in just a few short hours.
Merry Christmas, and God bless us, every one!