Journal Journeys

Chapter 20: Vital Motion – Plus Suds

When William woke, he was instantly immersed with a sensation of excitement, and he remembered he was going to Ottawa today to present his Truthilizer to the committee members to be approved as evidence in court. The side-note percolated up as a question, "No daylight… Not 'today' yet?" And then he smiled, and his eyes adjusted to the dark as he searched for her in the bed next to him. Rare, to have a bit of 'extra' time before the day began.

William assessed the situation, seduction on his mind. She was lying on her side, facing away from him. They were both dressed in their nightclothes, and that caught him for a second, because he was certain they had made love last night – after he had brought her the Tiger Rose at her University class, and then he kissed her – LIKE THAT – in the restaurant after the waitress had made a pass at him, infuriatingly using Julia's "Murdoch Bump" as the reason he would stray from her…

WHAM, the luscious memory of it hit hard.

"Oh yes…" the words hummed with lust in his head, "…in the shower." William remembered it viscerally, his male body responding in the typically masculine way to the lucid images replaying in his mind, feeling the impact of it all converging to flare and throb in that one, quite focused, spot.

Yes, they had made love in shower the night before, and so they had dressed in their nightclothes for bed... after, after they had stood tangled together for a while with the cascading warmth of the water pouring over them, recovering their breaths and their heartbeats, and waiting for the slowing of the spinning of the world around them to take hold… And Julia, once again, had collapsed into sobbing, overwhelmed by the power of their love – and also, William had reminded himself with a hint of sadness and remorse, with the rawness of their intimacy unearthing Julia's overly-heightened fear of losing him, especially with her being pregnant and thus needing him even more because of it, and him going away again… Oh, but gratefully, this time NOT undercover, like he had done when she was pregnant with William Jr., this time somewhere much safer than out into the horrors of the meatpacking world and the hardships and perils of the hobo 'jungle,' this time just to present his evidence-gathering innovations to a government committee up in Ottawa.

But still, it was away, and bodies and danger tended to find William Murdoch wherever he went…

An 'admitting-it' wrinkle lifted at the corner of William's mouth in the dusky dimness of their bedroom. He found he was grateful, grateful for everything. He was grateful for the golden colors in the sky slipping in through the curtains and filling the air with a low, rosy light, the Sun's hint at its promise… so lovely, the way that the dawning light silvers and luminates the edges of things… the curves of her. His eyes rode down the waves of his wife's body bulging up, here and there, from underneath the covers. "Mmm," the notably largest rise at the hips of her seemed to capture him.

It snuck in, stealing his breath, racing his heart, surging his groin to reach for her, William had imagined what would come next, imagined himself on top of her, inside of her, wrapped up in her, pounding with all his might into her, her scent, her moans, her desperation to get him closer. The imaginings had floored him with need, with want, with primal heat, he wanted her.

First, from behind her, his fingers reached for a wisp of her hair, and then pinched and admired and then stroked away her wavy curls, exposing her face to the morning's kiss.

Soft, her waking.

She wriggled, scooched backwards to find HIM there, warm and solid behind her. His mischievous, torturous kisses at her neck, that flame-lighting bristly stubble of William Murdoch in the morning prickling into her cheek, his hand traveled, bold and brash, up and over the rise of her hips, inward, up the line of buttons of her nightgown, tucked in between her sumptuous breasts. Taking a round, heavy, handful of her breast in his grasp, and with his breath hungry and surging out of his nostrils, timed and synchronous with his nip at her ear, he roughly molded and kneaded the pliant, jiggly flesh of her in his fingers. The tiny top button, pinched and popped away, catching her breath, and she felt his lips smile against her, so cocky that it seized her womb with want for him. Down the trail of buttons, pop, pop, pop, more and more of her pink and creamy flesh bared to him.

Julia's brain screamed his name inside her head, as she faintly whispered it out into the room, "William," so delicate, her call luring at him, tempting him with her aching weakness.

His response direct, his sturdy eagerness, blatant, pressed into the back of her, knowing exactly where it wanted to go, mere flimsy cloth between them, she felt him push in from behind her, rocketing her as he dug into the crevice of her buttocks and moved the firmness of him downward. "Mmm," the disastrous tweak wrung in her womb as she leaned back into him harder.

So tiny, the little agonous escape from her throat, barely a whimper, "Mm."

"Shh," his warm hush commanded in her ear, his call for her silence the ultimate in asking for her utter surrender.

He pulled her back towards him… pushed her down, planted her down into the mattress. All over her, his hands, those strong, hard muscles of his arms holding her in place, his mouth, his heat, taking, flooding, sucking, slurping, squeezing, cherishing and devouring, downward, descending lower, and lower, not fast enough, he inched towards the silently screaming, pulsating, spot. He was taking her. She was his – completely his.

Oh my, how the world fell away when his fingers found her creamy heat. Then, earthshattering, the manly stubble of him against the inside of her thigh…

"William, Please…"

She could not bear the waiting…

"Please…"

His mouth on her, magnificent, perfect this man's heat, this man's vibrant motion, sweeping her every resistance away and replacing it with want, heavenly, his rhythm, so perfect, "Never stop, please… William. Never… Never… Stop!" her brain bellowed her tormented cries into the universe.

Oh, but he did, devilishly, cruelly, scrumptiously, he stopped, after bringing her right to the precipice, so close, the edges lingering nearer and nearer, so ALMOST… almost… almost, that she was sure she would implode with the squeezing yearning striving pangs of need for him wringing and wrenching her to her core.

William coaxed her thighs apart, rose up to kneel between them.

It was debilitating, that tiny tick of time it took for him to pull the string of his pajama bottoms, slide them off. Mercilessly he teased, paused then to enjoy the sight of her heaving, breathless state. He watched her eyes drop down to examine him, her pupils darkening with lust-filled wanting.

Their eyes met, vaccumous, the gravitational pull between her and him, stealing away his control.

My God, she wanted him.

Rough, uninhibited primal lust exploded, he climbed up on top of her…

So big, so strong…

He would take her, her world so dizzy.

William mounted up, locked her in place underneath him…

"He was going to – going to…" her squeaky inner voice warned and wished and pleaded…

Oh my God, when he pushed in, rupturing her to her soul with the deliciousness. Sweet, sweet heaven, the ride began, William's cadence matching hers completely, starting off soft and slow, the rumble far off, underneath them, above them, inside of them, everywhere and all around them, like a small earthquake, but then, My God, when he let go, how the whole world shook, and William pounded and thundered into her, strenuous grunts escaping with each thrust.

Julia's helpless moans begged for more, "Oh… Oh…"

Only to be told…

Hot in her ear…

"Shh…"

His demanding of her complete submission amplified, magnified, the pressure building and burning inside of her, so wrenched, so tight, so high, so very, very high…

"Lord please… Please…" she beseeched the coming inside her head.

William deep inside of her, the perfect spot so close, the tip of him brushed against it, the first time erupting bliss…

She was right there – right there…

Then harder, he touched her there again, her deepest, most vital pucker of a spot, soft and firm, waiting, aching, for his touch, only his. Over and over again he touched to her succulence. And a heat began to spill, filling every cell. It was inevitable now.

Love – it was LOVE. He loved her, My GOD, he loved her, and he loved her and he loved her, faster and harder and closer and deeper, until the promise of it dipped them down into the abyss with a humungous cascading plummet. Her breath, taken, he heard it gasp, felt the whisk of it tug him in deeper, that last… tiny… millimeter. It was coming, so big… the rise, the rapturous speed of the wave – and then the roll, the being so beautifully whooshed with the ecstasy of the crash, the wild, gushing, flooding of pleasurable warmth and soaring, every bit of him permeating into every bit of her with thundering, rumbling ripples of lush, humid, jungle heat.

Oh my God, that was good, so very, very good… the thoughts were there with the fear that the breath would never be enough to recover, and the heart threatened to rupture with the pounding, and in the euphoric dizziness the thoughts slipped away.

It was only the salty taste of her that told it, Julia had begun to cry, quiet and sweet, like a misty warm rain in the summertime, moistening and glistening the world, ensuring nurturance and care. Not long, the world grounded. William rolled them together, him on his back, her resting her head on his chest.

He would be the one to tease this time, lessening the blow of his leaving. "I do believe you'll miss me, Mrs. Murdoch," his voice so smug, then he added, "…miss this," with a cocky chuckle. He squeezed her tighter in his arms and then ran his fingers down the curves of her face, then a soft kiss to her hair.

In her head, Julia thought about how what he was saying would most certainly be true, and how he deserved a bit of boastfulness about his bedroom skills – for "William Henry Murdoch was quite… well, 'impressive," she smiled to herself with the word. And yet, that big ego of his needed a little trimming, so her brain rushed to find a return, a quip that would put him in his place. Julia gasped slightly when the brilliant idea came to her, then she said, with a cat-ate-the-canary air to it, "Oh… Don't worry, husband. I'll be alright."

William tilted his head and they looked at each other in the glow of the early-morning light.

Oh, he was right. It was right there all over her face, that brash Mona-Lisa smile of hers that she gets when she's about to pounce with some sort of joke or another.

"Julia…?" he warned and scolded and wondered with that delicious rising of his one eyebrow at her.

Rare, truthfully, rare and wonderful, Julia Ogden blushed.

And then he really wanted to know.

She adjusted her position, subconsciously wanting to be on equal ground with him, lifting herself up off of him to sit with her back against the bed's headboard. William followed suit, bringing himself to sit next to her. He covered his lower half with the blanket, his pajama bottoms somewhere out there on the bedroom floor. Julia pulled her opened nightgown together and buttoned-up two of the buttons. As these were directly under her breasts, the taughtness served to lift and push, creating the most scrumptious cleavage, and she happily noticed William Murdoch notice.

William pestered and poked at her, even threatening to tickle her, until eventually she yielded, and Julia told him what it was she could do, if she got, "desperate, while he was away for the next few nights…"

"…And mornings," he reminded her, his yummy cockiness returning.

Julia knew that it was impossible to say it without giggling, for she was a bit embarrassed by it, and more importantly, she also knew that, when she said it, William would be confused, and he would raise his eyebrow at her, and she would just crumple with uncontrollable laughter. And so, there were a few spurts and starts before she finally said to him, "I can always use your Clothes-Washing-Cupboard…"

And all of her predictions came true, and she laughed and laughed, all the while William staying stiff and straight and trying so very patiently to wait for her to regain control of herself and explain.

Her giggling dwindled, until finally William said, his manner full of doubt, flooring her all over again, "So, you'll find sexual pleasure by doing laundry, while I'm…"

Julia exploded into laughter again before he could even finish what he had been trying to say, and her pretty blue eyes twinkled with such delight, because she saw as she watched him that she had managed to get him to chuckle too, before he steeled his face, and he locked his lips out of their smile, and he finished, "That's what you'll do, when I'm away…" he lost it for a little twitch of a chuckle and then recovered his composure once more, adding, "…to replace me, and our lovemaking. You'll wash our clothes?"

This time he couldn't help himself, he wholeheartedly fell into laughter with her, for a brief moment anyway. Then he sarcastically said, through his own giggles, William's face turning red as well with the laughing and the anticipating, "The joys of doing laundry, I suppose?"

Julia took a deep breath and she rushed to get the words out before she would begin laughing again, "No… um. It was Emily's idea, actually. Dr. Grace…" she paused.

He nodded, so good at staying straight, he said, "I remember the woman. Short, dark hair, a bit spicy…" but then he remembered, adding, "The reason you even know I write in a journal."

And Julia's brain hurried to make the connections. It had happened while she was married to Darcy, and because Emily was a member of a group that scientifically examined what happened to people after they died, and someone at one of their 'meetings' had been killed, and William investigated, and HE ended up being killed, injected with some drug and rendered unconscious. He had drowned in a bathtub. Sometimes it amazed her, but yes, William had died. And Dr. Grace had been able to bring him back to life. And in this moment she realized she had never been grateful enough for that fact until this very moment. And afterwards William had written about that experience, called it a 'divine vision…,' with Emily seeing his journal on his desk when she asked him what it had been like after death, and William had told her that it was wonderful. And then, later, it slipped out between them after Lillian Moss had been killed, William reassuring Emily that they both knew that Lillian Moss' death had been beautiful at the end, and that strange exchange between William and Emily had prompted Julia to ask William about it when they got home. And that's how she had come to learn that William Murdoch, her stoic husband, one of the least self-reflective people she thought she knew, and my – how wrong she had been about that assumption, that was how she learned that William wrote in a journal.

William for his part had gotten lost in thought too, trying to find some sort of logical explanation for her zany claim about one of his favorite inventions. First he imagined the two of them making love, Julia so gorgeous underneath him… "Smells!" the idea screamed into his head. "Maybe, if the smell of me – on my clothes… Could that be why? Could that actually…? Doubting it, he considered the machine itself. Even he had to admit, it had been one of his most brilliant inventions – and he knew Julia had always admired it, choosing the Clothes-Washing-Cupboard or the Dish-Washing-Cupboard as one of her preferred examples whenever the topic of his inventions came up in conversation. Maybe her just seeing the Clothes-Washing machine whenever he was away served to remind her of… Abruptly, the arrogance of the thought shut it down…

Julia got back to the point at hand, her big blue eyes settled into his and she went on, "Yes. I was telling Dr. Grace about how it… your Clothes-Washing-Cupboard, um, about the way it whirs and shakes so much that things that have been placed on top of it tend to fall off of it – particularly when it's on the 'spin cycle,' as you call it…"

"Yes…" William waited. But in the background, William's mind was rushing down multiple, multiple paths. A part of him sensed he was getting close to the answer. And then she said it, snapping all the thoughts into place…

"And, well, your machine reminded her of the chair. Um, the one the man had been electrocuted in… the one that vibrated – a lot!" she said, her eyes widening with the 'a lot' part.

Now, William Murdoch had known since being briefly involved with Ettie Weston those many, many years ago, and from his reading up on the subject as well, that women were like men in their ability to take care of their own sexual needs but…

He asked, still incredulous, remembering the name of the strange electrified chair device, "The Vital Motion Plus… My Clothes-Washing-Cupboard is like the Vital Motion Plus?"

And, although William had asked the question, inside his head he knew it was true. And so, his mind endeavored to find the link, connecting a rather uncomfortable memory involving Dr. Grace sitting on the Vital Motion Plus when he turned on the electricity in the morgue, with a mental picture of his own Clothes-Washing-Cupboard being used in a similar manner – thus seeing Dr. Grace sitting on HIS Clothes-Washing-Cupboard the same way she had been when she was using the Vital Motion Plus. And he imagined this somewhat obscene thing happening in their house instead of in the morgue, in their little laundry room next to their family kitchen, and she was sitting on it while it wiggled and vibrated underneath her, and she made that same wild erotic expression she had made while the contraption had jiggled her about that day in the morgue, her big brown eyes sparkling and growing wide as she declared, so lusty, her way, "Oh my… Oh my…" And William knew that it was true, HIS machine could do the same thing! And so quickly his mind made the switch, imagining the "sitter" on his Clothes-Washing-Cupboard changing from Dr. Grace to Julia, and William stopped the fantasy immediately, because… and the awareness of this furled his brow with confusion and discomfort, he found he felt jealous.

Julia had watched him, recognizing the tilt of his head, and the focused, but yet far-off, expression. He was making connections, imaging possibilities, William was using his big, wonderful brain to figure out the whys and hows implied by his own question. She crossed her arms across her belly as she sat in the bed next to him and gave out a slight sigh. "He would get…" she was sure of it.

And then as she watched him, her entire essence bubbled, delighted by the expressions on William's face – so determined, then so pleased with the discovery, and then, her heart trumpeted, for there was a gorgeous blush. And with that Julia smiled, big…

And their eyes met, and then he blushed even more, his eyes darting away with an uneasy jerk.

William exhaled, in that way he tended to when he was highly stressed, making almost a whistle through his pursed lips…

And next to him, Julia giggled.

He turned to face her, started to say something. Stopped himself. Tried again, only to falter once more, and then he just wrinkled a corner of his mouth at her, and she fell into laughter.

Yes, there was no denying it, in the end, William was uncomfortable about this.

But then, Julia remembered his journal, and she was burning to know…

"William…?"

Oh, he did not like her tone…

"Did you write about it – the Vital Motion Plus, in your journal?" she queried, mischievously trying to ask him the question nonchalantly.

Now, William Murdoch was a GOOD man, and it was rare that he ever intentionally lied to his wife, at least if the reason to do so was less than noble, so his temptation to lie to her now caught him off-guard. The result was a long pause.

Impatient, she pushed, "William…?"

It was the pause that had done it, sealed his fate, for he knew that she knew that he was trying to find a way to avoid reading it to her, and he knew that she knew that he knew, and so it was hopeless – there was no way out.

Another lovely, almost-whistled, exhale, and William reached over to his night-table and opened the drawer to pull out his plain brown journal.

Julia Ogden could not possibly have been having more fun!

William found the page, his eyes taking a quick look. There was only a very small amount of writing on the page. He turned and saw Julia, too, looking down at what he had written.

He wrinkled a corner of his mouth and then said, "It was after we were married…" the statement serving as an explanation.

It was true, both William and Julia had done far less writing in their journals since they had wed.

Julia nestled down on his shoulder. She tried to ease his discomfort, coyly tickling and tracing little patterns on his chest through his pajama top. But her eyes remained solidly fixed on his written words.

She expected him to share. The moment had come.

William inhaled and began to read.

Truthfully, the invention seemed utterly useless, this "Vital Motion Plus." I could find nothing "vital" about it. As a matter of fact, I could find no actual purpose for it at all, except for using it to electrocute someone, and the low voltage of the current, once it had been converted from direct to alternating current through the rectifier and then traveled through the transformer, was not sufficient to accomplish even that. The only reason Mr. Longfellow had been killed was because the murderer had disconnected the AC wire from the transformer, clearly with the intention of killing the man, and then replaced the AC wire back to the transformer afterwards to hide the crime.

Inside, Julia giggled, for her husband sighed before he convinced himself to go on – "The good part must be coming!," she gleed.

It confounds me that someone would ever think to invent such a thing in the first place. The strange and rather large device, mostly just a big chair with little handles to hold on to at the sides – suggesting that there would be quite a bit of "motion," as the name suggested, once the power had been turned on. Even that was highly disappointing. Well, at least at first. When I first turned on the machine I could hear a vibrating hum, but surely there was not much movement to speak of. And then there was Dr. Grace, sitting in the machine, and a part of me became frightened worrying that she might be killed. But instead, she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying sitting on it. At first, I admit, I was quite puzzled.

But then, I remembered Ettie – showing me. And then I figured out the purpose of the vibrating seat. It was for women to sexually pleasure themselves on. And Dr. Grace was seemingly doing just that right in front of my eyes…

Julia lifted her hand up to cover her mouth, meaning to stifle her surprised gasp and subsequent embarrassed giggles, but failed.

She gave in and laughed harder when William rolled his eyes in response. Then she gave him a squeeze and said, "You're doing quite well, William. Go on."

He frowned.

Her heart glowed with a burst of love for him.

William cleared his throat and went back to reading.

And all I could do was imagine Julia sitting on it, and her getting that same wild look on her face like Dr. Grace had had, and suddenly I had the strangest urge to take an axe to the thing…

Julia giggled again.

And William frowned again. He huffed a bit, sensing her smile out of the corner of his eye. Another sigh, then he went on.

And it worries me, because I know Julia visits Dr. Grace in the morgue. Especially since they have been working together on Julia's candidacy in the election. And knowing Dr. Grace, she would have been thrilled to have Julia try the machine…

William exhaled, bearing up with all this pressure, letting it out through pursed lips before he could go on.

He noticed his ears were beginning to ring.

"Nothing left but to hope beyond hope that Julia never tries it," William read the last line he had written on the matter.

He closed the journal and Julia took it from him and stretched over him to put it down on his night-table.

Playful, but also authentically intrigued, she asked him as she straddled him there in their bed, "And why is that, William? Why did you wish that I never tried the 'Vital Motion Plus?"

William squirmed…

So delightfully. Julia felt that twinge of lust stirring in her womb. She did so love this man.

He needed to clear his throat first, then he answered, moving away from being direct, talking about all women in general rather than her, thinking it would be safer, "It just worries me that if such a thing were to become… available, well… there would be no need for husbands." He wrinkled his face showing his doubt.

Being a wise and insightful woman, Julia sensed his insecurities. Being compassionate, she would try to relieve them.

She laid down on his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. "Oh, I don't think you need to worry about that, William," she reassured, "At least not with you and me anyway…" She lifted back up off of his chest and took his handsome face in her two hands and looked deep into his big brown eyes, "There is so much more to making love with you than I could ever get from sitting on your Clothes-Washing-Cupboard, surely you know that."

Oh, the man was truly winsome, giving her an 'admitting-it' wrinkle at the corner of his mouth. He knew she was right. There would never be anything ever invented in all the world that could be as powerful and marvelous and fulfilling as when they made love. They both knew such love was a blessing, and they both cherished it. There was no doubt, no doubt at all.

But then Julia's expression changed, and William braced himself – She was about to tease.

She suggestively fiddled with his top button and said, as she kept her eyes down on her work with his button, stirring him down in his groin all over again, "Though, there is something to be said about getting the laundry done. I mean generally husbands don't help their wives with that rather drudgerous chore now do they… And, well…" she dared a glance at him, "It could be like 'killing-two-birds-with-one-stone.' A sort of 'DUAL'-purpose to your invention, hmm?"

Deciding if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, William played along, "When you think about it that way, I suppose they would sell like hotcakes."

She shifted a bit, wiggling on top of him, a part of her checking on his… readiness, wondering, because it was so soon after they had just finished making love.

"Yes…" she gave, seeing in his expression that he had felt her discover that his groin had most definitely become alerted. She leaned down closer to him to breathe her suggestion into his ear, "They say it all depends on how you advertise it…" she giggled, "Perhaps we should ask Constable Crabtree to help us market your combination Vital Motion Plus and Clothes-Washing-Cupboard. It should have a name that tells prospective buyers that it can get the laundry done and make you feel… revitalized…" drilling her point home about what it was, exactly, she meant by her use of the word "revitalized," Julia made her eyes bulge wide with excitement as she said it, and she very directly rubbed against him in just the right way and in just the right spot, before she finished, "It does both."

William swallowed, for he was feeling that luscious soupiness in his brain.

He added, "The constable does come up with some rather attention-grabbing names for inventions…" regaining his composure, impressed with his own ability to stay on topic despite his wife's mischief. And then inside William's head a parade of George's crazy names for things ran through his mind – there was the 'Potato Cooking Room' for Tesla's microwave deathray, and then for those lettered little square tiles he had made, to use to help make a word from a bunch of given letters, George called it 'Scramble…' And then he heard George's voice in his head, the constable marveling at the building blocks he had made, the ones with the little bumps on the top that lined up to the next block's little holes in the bottom. The blocks stuck together, and Crabtree repeated it over and over again, trying and failing in shaking the joined blocks free of each other – "They don't let go. See, they don't let go. We could call them 'Never Letgoes,' I think. That would be a good name."

William shook his head and said, "Actually, I think it best we are careful not to ever tell George…"

Only to be interrupted by the trumpeting of Julia's name for his Clothes-Washing-Cupboard. Proudly she called it out, "Vital Motion Plus Suds!' See, that name has the stimulating movement part and the clothes washing part…?"

William's expression changed, and Julia's womb erupted. He flipped her, pinning her back down into the mattress. "Perhaps, Mrs. Murdoch," he said, "We should prove that your husband's motion is significantly more vitalizing than sitting on…"

She reached up and grabbed him and pulled him down into a succulent kiss.

William had lost his breath when the kiss broke off. Holding himself up above her, his chest heaved up and down hungry for air as he said, "We'll have to hurry…"

And she reached up and then drowned him in another kiss.

The kiss broke off, and William continued right from where he had left off, "William Jr. will be…"

And she grabbed him and buried his lips in hers again.

Delicious, this unexpected cloudburst.

)

Putting a rush into the afterglow, Julia concluded, "Now THAT, my handsome husband, was revitalizing," and she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him.

"Good," he relished the compliment and agreed. "Now," he changed the subject, "Ottawa."

It was Julia who jumped out of bed first, secretly having theft and horseplay on her mind. She felt his eyes on her as she scoured the bedroom floor searching… "Ah," she declared in her head, triumphant. She bent down and swept up his pajama bottoms, and then with a grand gesture, dangled them devilishly just out of his reach in front of him. "I suppose you'll be wanting these," she teased him.

Lovely, the screams and growls and giggles filtering out of their bedroom as they played. It was mere seconds before their son's little knock would come at the door. Julia retreated, standing, wobbling for her balance, up on their bed, legs wide apart for balance, feet wedged and planted into the dented mattress. Then William jumping up after her, her loss of balance as he bounced the mattress about dumping her into his arms. He brushed aside a wisp of a curl from her face and the mood became more serious. "I am going to miss you," he said.

"And I you," she agreed.

They paused there, grateful for each other.

Then Julia said, "Speaking of brilliant inventions, William, the Truthilizer is one of the best, most surely. I'm sure the committee will agree," she encouraged.

"I wonder?" he said, hoping to avoid being disappointed if they turned it down.

Julia took his pajama bottoms and put them behind his neck, and then she turned one red leg of the cottony garment over the other, reminding of his maroon scarf. "Well detective," she said, "You'd best stop wondering and start wandering or you'll miss your train."

William stepped down off the bed and turned back to offer her a hand, "Milady," he said winsomely.

"Why thank you, sir," she replied. Once down on the floor in front of him she dropped her eyes to take in the look of the undressed half of him.

He anticipated a joke to come, hurrying to free his pajama bottoms from around his neck.

"I do hope we've washed your trousers," she teased with such a glorious little seductive wiggle.

He gave her his scolding look and he said, "I hope that's ALL we did."

And she giggled. A compassionate tug pulled in her heart though. He did seem a bit troubled, despite all the lighthearted teasing. Oh, but truthfully, inside, she found it delectable, for William Murdoch seemed jealous, and it tickled her so. She decided to ease his worries, despite their being a bit silly. Julia clamped her lips together, readying to tell him what he wanted to know about her using the machine… machines really, for his journal had told that he had been concerned about the chair in the morgue too…

William Jr.'s door bumped in the distance, followed by little toddler footsteps out in the hallway…

She pulled him closer, and hurried to tell him, "Perhaps it would help you to know, I never did have the opportunity to use the Vital Motion Plus. Perhaps I did not visit Dr. Grace at an opportune time…" Julia left unsaid that she definitely would have tried it if Dr. Grace had shared with her about it…

The sweet knock sounded at the door.

"And William," she held him to make sure she finished, that he knew before he left for Ottawa, "I have not in the past, and very likely never will, use your Clothes-Washing-Cupboard for…" her own pause tickled her, "any Vital Motion. Only Suds."

"Good," he replied, hurrying to get into his pajama bottoms up before calling to William Jr. to come in, "Good."

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*One of the fun and interesting things about science is that you never really know if what you create, discover or invent will be used the way you envisioned it. Here are some examples that went the way William's Clothes-Washing-Cupboard could have gone – sideways and up and down and all around…

Lysol was first invented and marketed as a feminine douche and even for contraception. Of course, it didn't work, and worse, it harmed women terribly. It is much better for what it is used for today – a home cleaning and disinfecting product.

Play Doh was NOT originally created for toddlers to play with. It was meant to be for cleaning wallpaper.

Speaking of wallpaper, that was the original intent for the invention of Bubble-Wrap, imagine it all over your wall – psychedelic, to say the least.

And, a bit on topic with William's Clothes-Washing-Cupboard, the male drug, Viagra, was first made to treat symptoms of heart disease. In the research studies testing the drug however, it did NOT help with the hardening of the arteries – other places, however… Well, it's history.

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PS: What name would you have given William's invention?