"I heard the news," Julia said as Murdoch helped her take off her coat and hat in the foyer of their house. For the moment they were living in both houses until this one was finished.

"We have Serge in custody," Murdoch slipped a hand around her waist as they moved towards the small kitchen.

"His mother's funeral?" Julia asked, stopping inside the door to the newly finished kitchen and turning to him.

"Yes," Murdoch pulled her against him, suddenly hungry for the taste of her. They had forgone the honeymoon to catch the murderer, but he had every intention of getting her alone for at least a week now that they had.

"William!" It came out a weak squeak when he lifted her up and sat her on the table.

"Sorry," he grinned, not looking the least bit apologetic, "yes from what you told us of his relationship with his mother, we knew he would not be able to resist coming to her funeral," he said it absently as he quickly and skillfully removed her shirt and corset, when he filled his palms with her breasts, they both groaned.

"It seems too easy," She chocked out on a moan. Murdoch narrowed his eyes, she was far too lucid when his own brain was fighting to form complete sentences. He tugged her chemise off tossing it across the room.

"Maybe." He murmured as he ran a finger from the curve of her breast, up to the tip and back again. Julia squirmed, she knew the ache building inside her was just the beginning, her husband was a very careful and thorough man. He loved to torture her with delicate butterfly touches when her body screamed to be taken, hard and long.

"Perhaps he wanted to be caught," she was trying to concentrate on his words, but it was impossible when he watched her with that sizzling heat in his eyes, and those skilled fingers were playing her breasts like an instrument.

"William?" she squirmed trying to tug him closer, but when her hands moved over his chest to his pants he grabbed them and pinned them behind her back with one of his. The position arched her up against him in an invitation he could not refuse.

William's head dipped and his mouth closed over her nipple, all thoughts of murder and body parts were lost in the whirlwind of passion that rose between them. He bit and tugged, licked and sucked at her breasts, over and over pushing her higher and higher. Achingly close to expiring with need, she pulled her hands free and buried them in his hair, pulling him up for a deep kiss filled with need.

He tugged her off the counter, and turned her around, firmly putting her hands on the table and leaning her over it. Julia whimpered as he lifted her skirts and petticoats and flipped them over her hips.

"I am extremely grateful that you have not started wearing those new closed bloomers that seem to be the latest craze in lady unmentionables," he murmured as he slipped a hand along the open seam of her nickers. She could not answer him, could not tell him that she did in fact own quite a few pairs of Bloomers but never wore them anymore for this very reason, because of him.

When his hand reached the junction of her thighs she groaned and arched her back giving him complete access, she was hot and ready, and he lost complete control. With a growl of possession he stepped between her legs, Julia braced herself for the onslaught as she felt him nudging at her opening, he worked himself inside her, gently almost reverently. His breath on her shoulder as his chest pressed against her back, she moaned, he felt almost too much for her.

"Am I hurting you?" his voice was harsh, deep and gravely, she could feel his entire body shaking as he tried to hold back, started to pull away. Julia bit her lip and shook her head, turning her face so she could see him.

"Don't you dare stop!" she hissed reaching behind she grabbed his hip and tugged him closer. It was all the invitation he needed, his hands moved to her hips and in one powerful thrust he was fully sheathed. Julia bit back the scream that lodged in her throat, she didn't want him getting skittish and pulling away from her now, not when everything inside her throbbed and tightened. She need not have bothered, William was too far gone now to stop, the beast inside him always so close to the surface where she was concerned, had torn loose and he claimed her in the most primitive primal way.

Her first orgasm slammed through her at his next thrust and each one after that drew it out, on and on as he moved in her with a devastating rhythm. Pushed from one peak to the next she could not hold back the cries, the screams, or the whimpers. William grit his teeth, every sound she made shoved him closer to complete insanity. Her hands clutched at him, trying to find something to hold onto as she shattered over and over again.

"One last time beloved," he whispered, she could feel his naked chest against her back and vaguely wondered when he'd undressed, but he changed the angle of his thrusts and she did as commanded. He followed her this time, letting her inner contractions shoot him over the brink. They slid off the counter and slumped on the floor in a quivering mess of arms and legs.

It took a long, long, time before she could find her voice, or the air to actually form words, "I have cooked stew for dinner?" she managed. Murdoch winced and sent a silent apology to his much abused stomach.

"That sounds wonderful," he tried to sound enthusiastic, but it was difficult.

Julia was a woman of many talents, cooking however was not one of them, not that it stopped her. It was yet another fascinating contradiction in his wife. Julia was a competent scientist, capable of mixing the most intricate complicated and delicate formulas, and yet a simple meal became an inedible mess, and even more confounding, Julia herself seemed completely oblivious to it.

Unfortunately for Murdoch he did not have the heart to tell her, so he ate the rubber chicken that tasted like cotton wool, the lamb that was so raw he could hear it bleat when he stuck the fork into it, and the fish that was so dry it was still stuck somewhere in his intestines and would probably be there for the rest of his life.

He lifted himself off the floor and helped her to her feet, when his eyes fell on her breasts and heated up, she quickly found his shirt and slipped it on.

"Have you managed to speak to him yet," she asked as she rolled up the sleeves and started collecting the scattered clothing, she headed up to the wash-room and Murdoch followed her.

"Yes, briefly," he said absently as he watched her fill a basin with warm soapy water.

"And?" she asked as she started to strip and suddenly stopped. She flushed and bit her lip. Murdoch grinned and crossed his arms over his chest, made himself comfortable against the door. Julia rolled her eyes, and with a defiant sniff she grabbed the basin and ducked behind the privacy screen.

"I asked him why red heads," Murdoch said, and sighed, he knew he would have to tell her eventually, "he said to ask you about Landesteiner's discovery,"

Julia popped her head around the corner of the screen frowning "Landesteiner?"

Murdoch nodded, she moved back behind the screen, "Landesteiner's theory is that not everyone's blood type is the same. We have found that some people do not take to blood transfusions and some people's blood does not take to being transfused, and he's apparently discovered that there are different blood types. I can imagine that Madam Tasha would have heard of it too, since transfusion or transference are her interest, it could be that she assumed body similarities would equal similar blood, red heads being the easiest distinguishable. Did he mention why those particular organs?"

He didn't for a moment forget what she was doing as she spoke, the very thought of her naked, running that soft sponge over her body was filling him with renewed vigor, but what she said did keep him riveted to the door way. That and the fact that he imagined she would need a little time to recover.

"No he would not elaborate on that or why such young girls," he murmured, "I could not understand why Madam Tasha was so bold, for her experiments it would have made more sense to harvest among the street people, the old and the week." He frowned as his mind kicked the thought around.

"Eternal youth, by harvesting and transplanting organs from the young perhaps?" Julia said as she came out. Murdoch's mouth fell open, and his already aroused body took another bolt of pure desire.

"Julia! That is indecent and not to mention illegal." He said and it came out in a growl. She was wearing one of her chemise and a pair of his trousers, and like the last time he had seen her in men's clothing, the sight of the cloth hugging her body was enough to make him want to pounce.

"I can wear whatever I want in my own home," she snapped, then sailed past him leading with her stubborn chin. William closed his eyes and counted to twenty, before slowly following her down the stairs, even the thought of her cooking was not enough to dampen his desire.

"It's very frustrating not having answers, especially since he is going to hang." she continued as he sank onto one of the chairs and watched her.

"He wants to see you," he said softly, his mind not really on what he was saying it was very definitely on how his trousers stretched taunt across her bottom as she bent to stoke up the fire in the oven.

She straightened and looked at him over her shoulder, and frowned. "I take it you do not approve?"

Murdoch winced but sighed, "I have already arranged it," he would of course be going with her.

"Perhaps he will give me answers," she murmured. William did not voice his opinion, his eyes were glued to the congealed jellylike goo that she was spooning out of the pot. He amended that thought, to if he survived her cooking.

The doorbell saved him and he tried not to seem too eager as he jumped up to answer it.

"There has been a murder down at the museum. Someone wrapped it up in bandages and put it in with the Egyptian mummy's." Murdoch let George in and sighed.

The honeymoon would have to wait a little bit longer.

The End

Thank you everyone for your feedback and reviews, it has made this story so much fun to write. I know I have left a lot of unanswered questions, the good news is….there is another story on the fire.

It appears that while I, as a rule, restrict myself to one fanfiction per decade, William and Julia are not quite done with me yet and have given me the gift of another tale to tell.

Honestly how else are we going to survive the long dark months until January next year?

Blessings

Pet