#william murdoch x reader

[emperor-palpaminty]

Can I request bbc Sherlock x female plus size reader x William Murdoch please

Hello! I actually have not seen BBC Sherlock and I have not watched Murdoch Mysteries in a very long time, so I don't feel comfortable writing this request! Thank you for understanding!

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

a tough case. ( william murdoch x reader )

gif belongs to me

You were fairly new to the station. Doctor Ogden required an assistant, and despite your family being vocal about their disapproval of the career path you were taking, you accepted the position she offered. You would never regret that decision as it led to meeting William Murdoch.

Your first case was when a rowing club member was found murdered, and you were humming as you prepared for Doctor Ogden to perform an autopsy when you looked up to see William standing in the doorway. The shock causes you to drop the tray of instruments on the floor.

"Oh!"

William tentatively entered while you kneeled to place each instrument onto the tray. "Forgive me. It was not my intention to startle you."

"No, no, I'm fine. Really." You stood up, not realizing how close he was standing until you were face to face. You laughed lightly, stepping away while hoping he wouldn't notice the blush dusting your cheeks.

"Ah, William. I see you have met my new assistant." Julia entered, carrying the case file, and you placed the tray down, offering him a hand to shake. "Y/N, meet Detective Murdoch."

"Please, call me William." He sent you a small smile which you returned.

And that was the moment you knew you liked William Murdoch - a glimmer of attraction that turned into hidden feelings that grew stronger with each case.

Two things were made clear to William in the next month that you settled into the station. One, you always seemed to be startled when he was near - something he was unsure was a good thing or not. Two, you were great at your job, but there were moments when you were sensitive at crime scenes.

The case of the man forced to drink cheap varnish was full of surprises, but discovering the body of the real Harcourt Grimsby beneath the wardrobe shocked everyone. You covered your mouth, moving away from the remains of the ten-year-old, and Julia looked up at you with a sympathetic smile.

"Why don't you get some fresh air?" She suggested softly.

"I'm sorry -" You sniffled, wiping a tear that fell down your cheek.

"Come on. I'll walk with you." A constable offered, holding out his arm, which you took, looking back to meet William's concerned and curious gaze.

Ten minutes later, he exited the house to find you standing with the constable as you spoke to one another, keeping a safe distance where he would not be seen but could overhear the conversation. You wiped your tears on the handkerchief the constable had given you, apologizing profusely.

"I think it's good that you care so much." He said. "You are great at what you do."

You wanted to smile, but the remains you had found were scarred in your mind. "I don't think so anymore." You whispered as more tears fell, and the constable placed a hand on your arm.

"Come on. I'll escort you home."

You shook your head, thanking him for his offer but turning it down. And Murdoch found you in the morgue three hours after surviving Julia's autopsy and singing the same song he heard you singing on your first day.

"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound. That saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now am found. Was blind, but now I see..." You lifted your head when he knocked on the doorway, wiping your tears as you stood up. "Detective Murdoch. Is there something I can help you with?"

Your behavior was odd as you had always referred to him as "William" - which he preferred, and at that moment, it felt like there was a certain amount of distance between you both. And he didn't like it.

"I noticed the light was on. I thought everyone had either gone home or gone to the bar." He said as he entered. His eyes were heavy with worry as he glanced at the autopsy table in which Harcourt Grimbsy laid beneath a sheet. "This may seem like a rather silly question, but are you alright?"

You shook your head. And your eyes lowered to the remains covered by the sheet. "He spent all those years lost and alone. I wanted him to know that he was not alone anymore. That he's been found. And I know that sounds silly -" Your voice cracked, and William stepped closer, shaking his head.

"No. That sounds, well, like something you would do." He sent you a small smile. "It's a lovely thought."

You occupied the seat you had been sitting on when he entered, and William stood for a few moments, unsure what to say to break the silence that fell upon you both, his hands awkwardly resting behind his back as his eyes glanced around.

"I've noticed that you sing in every case." He spoke up.

"I'm not crazy." You smiled lightly. "I don't expect them to join in."

A smile formed on his lips, "And for that, I am relieved."

Light laughter fell from your lips as you glanced at him from the corner of your eyes. "I know why I am here. Why are you?"

"Paperwork." He replied. "And I suppose I was not fond of trying to sleep with my mind so occupied."

"And what occupies the great Detective Murdoch's mind, hm?" You asked teasingly, sending him a smile. "The latest scientific breakthrough?"

William's gaze lowered to the ground, and you were immediately worried that you had upset him, beginning to apologize when he shocked you into silence when he spoke.

He cleared his throat, eyes sweeping across the room as he stood with his shoulders straight, preparing to reveal how he felt about you as he brought a chair over to sit beside you. "Actually...I was wondering how you were after we discovered Harcourt's body underneath the wardrobe. I couldn't be certain whether you had already returned home, but when I noticed the light was on, I thought I might find you here. And I did."

"I wasn't ready to face the nightmares." You told him.

"Do you have these nightmares often?" He asked.

You nodded. "Sometimes I can get a decent four hours sleep. However, tonight..." Your gaze drifted to the young boy who had been murdered by his twin, who sought revenge on their father. "Tonight would have been the worst." Your eyes became teary as you looked at the detective, "I can't get the moment we found him out of my mind. I tried to picture something else, like daises, for example, but nothing seems to work. I am starting to wonder whether I am suited for this line of work."

"You are great at what you do. I have never met someone so dedicated to discovering the truth as you are." William lowered his head to hold your gaze. "To lose you would be a devastating blow to this station. And none would miss you more than I."

Your lips parted in shock at his confession.

"Please, assure me that you will at least consider staying." He said.

You nodded, swallowing thickly. "Alright."

The next day you entered around mid-afternoon, and Murdoch was thrilled to see you had chosen to stay when you knocked on the door to his office, holding the reports you had typed up after Julia's autopsy.

"Good afternoon."

It was difficult to contain a smile when he saw you, but this time Murdoch did not dare to try, and you mirrored the bright smile he sent you as you handed him the reports concealed in a manilla folder. "Good afternoon." He echoed the greeting as he accepted the reports, standing close enough that if he were one step closer, your chests would brush with each breath you took. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." You took a deep breath as you turned to his desk. "You know, your desk is always cluttered with some invention. I dread to envision what your house must be like."

"You should come over for dinner sometime and see for yourself." The words left him as shocked as you were, and William cleared his throat awkwardly. "Forgive me, that was -"

"You cook?" You quickly interrupted his apology to prevent him from taking it back.

"I like to think I am a little above average." He said with a small smile.

You suppressed the smirk threatening to form on your lips. "Oh, I didn't doubt that." You met his gaze briefly before looking at the experiment on his desk. "Perhaps I can cook?"

William nodded. "Tonight? If work permits us."

You stepped forward to kiss his cheek. "Tonight." You stepped back with a smile, and William mirrored the smile as you left his office. You looked over your shoulder as you walked away, finding William smiling as he took a seat at his desk.

Although you couldn't always make church on Sunday, you still prayed, but that day you had never prayed as you did in hopes that your schedules remained clear so you could have your date. And what a date it would be.

[murdochmysteriesimagines]

Older Sister- William Murdoch, George Crabtree

Request: Can you do a William Murdoch x reader who's George crabtree's older sister and he ask her out but George decides to be overly protective ?!

A/N: I had trouble with this one. I don’t like contrived plot lines and this request is based around that. Hence I changed some things to make it not so dreadful. This frankly took so long because I didn’t want to do it, distant over laziness I can assure you.

__________________________________________

The Constable forfeited his expected formalities when he saw the familiar yet foreign figure standing in the Detectives office. Without a knock on the wooden door frame or even a glance to his superior he went straight to addressing you.

“What are you doing here.”

“Hello to you too George.” You sat down facing the desk with your younger brother to your back to your younger sibling. That same person unaware of what exactly he walked into, likely surprised and in turn blinded by your presence. His reply. “You’ve had enough time for such pleasantries in the past two years.”

Murdoch cleared his throat loudly to silence the bickering. ‘Heel heel’, comparable to a pair of dogs barking at a presumed threat. Although the Detective would not admit to drawing similarities between a mutt, a woman and a his best man.

You looked back to William, able to read his expression and the writing on the wall. “I did come to see you George. A private matter regarding Aunt Azalea.”

“Is she-“

“She’s fine George, I’ll tell you in private.”

He proposed a secluded area outside the station, but before he walked out taking the lead you spoke out again. “Meet me there George, I don’t want to interrupt your business with William.”

He took notice of your use of the Detectives first name but remained powerless to interfere with your next action. Your business card sliding across his desk and securely into his hand; all the wile George’s pupils started to burn imaginary holes into the Detectives head. A predator trait he inherited in their youth after one of their aunts patrons mistook her for another one of the ‘Flower Girls of Flower Hill’ in a drunken stupider. George had grown wiser since then, what a young man could get away with over two decades ago could not be repeated in the present on ones own boss without repercussions.

A difference aside from age and date had been the invitation. Instead of a gin soaked sailor getting too curious with wandering hands on a girl barely twenty; it was rather that same girl asserting her contact details on a tea flavoured Detective after a pleasant conversation lasting nearly an hour. A action hardly calling for the muttering of threats or throwing of furniture at offending parties.

Only a cheeky wink wink was offered to William before turning to the door. His eyes lingering on your swaying hips as you walked out of sight, almost taunting or daring him to follow wherever you would lead him. The steaming Constable would quickly occupy his attention as a unequal replacement. Regardless of the undeniable awkwardness Murdoch decided to act as if he was not caught red handed with someone’s sister. He cleared his throat once again.

“George, what have you-”

Crabtree walked out before the punctuation could be finished. A brown file being the only item left behind as he perused his elder sibling with a heated step. A silences only interrupted by the ticking clock and bustling of the station outside the still open door. Slowly, almost as if he was expecting to get caught again, William reached for the card left by yourself. Flipping it to read revealed your name, profession and contact; an allowed privilege he would be sure not to abuse, or antagonize George in the process.

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Can I request a murdoch mysteries where chubby librarian female reader where William proposes and Dr Julia is jealous

So I decided to make this a headcanon because it was late forgive me 💖.

William proposes to libabrian reader and dr Julia is jealous💫

- it was love at first sight you were shy and thought William was handsome and never in your life have you been this in love before.

- you normally didn't mind the attention but since dr Julia had a thing for him it became a game of cat and mouse.

- you thought William liked you since he normally bought you gifts.

- you then soon realised it developed into something more and you began to date him.

- dr Julia had been trying to flirt with him in hints but you shut her down.

- one day he proposes to you and you say yes but dr Julia is heartbroken and cries about it.

- you kiss him out of happiness.

Anyways that's all I have for now:

Ta Ta 💫

[xxjewellynwatts]

The Wine Cellar - A Llewellyn Watts x OC (you!) story

Request: Hello:))) I've had another idea for a fluffy love confession for Llewellyn Watts (I'm a sucker for those😇) we know that Watts love wine so I thought about the reader and Watts getting drunk and kissing.... Let me know what you think:))))

Answer: Hello, dear! Terribly sorry for answering and writing very long after you requested! I hope you enjoy this, I’m not very good at writing about alcohol as I am very anti-alcohol myself so I did my best!

As a woman making it in history books (unbeknownst to you) as the first lady hired as a detective in a Canadian police station in the 19th century, you sure were a secretive, focused and serious person.

People enjoyed being around you, you were funny when you wanted to, but also very interesting to listen to for you had extravagant and insightful ideas. Detective Murdoch had quickly grown accustomed to discussing physics theories with you, so had constable George Crabtree when discussing ideas for his stories, and so had Dr. Ogden as you were always keen to discuss new discoveries in the fields of medicine but also psychology and much more.

Truly, the only person who seemed to be unable to get as close to you was Llewellyn Watts. When you had joined the Station n°4, he was already working there and you two had had very brief and courteous conversations that were always surrounding work. He had grown accustomed to watching you from afar as you worked diligently at your desk or as you walked around a crime scene with Detective Murdoch. He enjoyed your quiet presence around him very much albeit he would have rather preferred you discussed with him and showed him bits of your intriguing mind.

And yet... he could not see his wish come true. He was used to being regarded as the awkward detective and didn’t mind others finding him weird or not friendly. But he was friendly, and all the members of Station n°4 knew it. Except you. Perhaps he was too shy around you.

One day however, you both were given a case on which you had to work together. Llewellyn tried to read you and you didn’t seem to mind but neither were you thrilled whilst he could swear he had never felt so nervous in his entire life.

Surprisingly though, he found out you were easy to talk to. You actually smiled more often now you were alone with him and working with him and seemed more open for conversation.

As you two made your way to the house where a murder had occurred, he found out you could understand his philosophical references. He couldn’t hide the joy of finally having someone who understood them!

‘Well, Detective Watts, you have been smiling for a few minutes now. May I inquire you about that?’ you said with your own little smile.

‘It’s just...’ he said as he turned around on himself, surprised you caught his smile. ‘It’s the first time someone understands my references’.

What an adorable smile and thought, you thought to yourself as you felt your stomach flutter. You were a very sociable person but ever since you’ve been working there, you couldn’t seem to be able to become Detective Watts’ friend. He was the only one with whom you were unsure of how to act. He impressed you quite a bit and you felt as though he could be deceived of your personality if he had gotten closer to you. You were glad you were assigned to that case with him. Now you could get a glimpse of his intriguing worlds and ideas.

‘Well, this is the most flattering thing I have heard in a while’ you said honestly, still smiling at him.

He got lost for a bit in your eyes and the way your eyes shined when you smiled before he was interrupted by the opening of a door. The owner of the house in which you had to investigate had finally answered the door.

As you inquired about the crime, you could see Llewellyn wander through the house before asking to the owner and thereby cutting him through one of his answers to you:

‘Would you mind telling us what this little door leads to?’ he asked as he snapped his fingers at a small door on the right of the entry of the parlor.

‘Oh, it’s my wine cellar’ said the owner.

Llewellyn raised his eyebrows.

And before you knew it, the owner had opened the door and had let you two discover his wine cellar as he went on to discuss with his maids upstairs.

It didn’t take you long to realize Llewellyn was a wine connoisseur. And a fine one at that, too.

‘What a surprise’ you said as you looked at him taste the wine. ‘I didn’t know you were a connoisseur’

He smiled at you as he offered you some wine.

‘You want me to become one, too?’ you joked before you accepted the glass.

He laughed a bit as he waited for your opinion.

‘Not bad’ you said after you had brought the glass to your lips. ‘I wouldn’t say it’s my favorite though’

He laughed again. It was the first time you heard him laugh genuinely and for some reason you wished you could hear it again and again and again.

‘That’s normal, Miss (y/l/n). His collection, I’m afraid, is not one of the best. But here...’ he said as he took a bottle out. ‘Here, it seems we have an interesting one’.

He opened it and poured the both of you some of it.

He raised his glass and you smiled. You both drank it and before you realized it, the bottle was empty and you both were laughing off philosophical debates and the owner’s wine collection.

Now to be fair, you two were not completely drunk. Just a bit. And that bit seemed to have eased your mutual shyness.

‘You know I’ve never thought you were so agreeable, Llewe- sorry Detective Watts’ you said as you looked away. Could it be you were becoming rude?

Llewellyn’s heart skipped a beat though upon hearing his name come from your mouth in such a friendly way.

‘No, please, I don’t mind. Please, call me Llewellyn’ he insisted.

‘Well, then... Llewellyn... I am very glad we seem to get along so well’, you said with a genuine smile.

‘And so am I’ he admitted. ‘I have been struggling to talk to you for some reason. I have never been able to connect with people, really. You know... man’s flaws...’ he said with a distant look in his eyes before turning back his attention to you. ‘But you... seemed so competent, so... intriguing... I didn’t know how to approach you...’ he admitted, a bit saddened.

You stared at him in shock before getting slightly closer to him.

‘Llewellyn... What a strange coincidence... I... I had been feeling and thinking the exact same things!’ you exclaimed a bit louder than you had intended to. ‘It’s easy to be likable with others but with you I thought... I think I thought I wasn’t enough... Like you wouldn’t find anything about me interesting...’

‘You thought you weren’t enough?’ he repeated as though he thought the alcohol was hitting him hard. ‘God you are... your mere smile is enough to make me feel happy for the whole week!’ he suddenly said. ‘And your face is so symmetrical...’ he added with a distant look.

He looked back at you as he realized what he had just said.

Both of your hearts were racing by now and you were suddenly leaning in closer until both of your minds registered the pressure on each others’ lips and labelled it as the kiss you both had been longing for.

You two quickly parted away though as you heard the owner of the house come back down to the wine cellar as he exclaimed:

‘You two are still in here?! And... what have you done to my wine?!’

You both looked at each other holding back your laughter.

‘Well, Mr, thank you very much for answering our questions. Hopefully you will not hear from us provided you are not the killer. Anything else, Miss (y/l/n)?’ he pretended.

You played along.

‘Actually, no. We were just about to go’.

And right before you closed the door behind you, you said to the owner:

‘Oh, and sir, you might want to consider getting a better collection’.

You could see his face becoming red but before he could fight back, Llewellyn and you were running far away from the house bursting out laughing.

[henry-higgins-is-a-vibe]

Being William Murdoch’s Younger Sister Would Include

not my gif

William would 100% be super protective of you.

Helping the station house out with cases.

Being really good friends with George.(William approves)

Julia really likes you.

Despising Gillies.

William being sooooo supportive of you.

Shipping Jilliam.

James Pendrick would flirt with you if you’re interested or not.

Being super smart just like your big bro.

William wanting to meet your significant other so badly.

Gillies def threatening you.(Multiple times)

Acting with George in James Pendrick’s movie.

Murdoch would care so much about you like A LOT

[veryrealimagination]

William Murdoch x Reader?

No

William Murdoch versus Reader?

Yes.

[fdq666roadie-blog]

Fics I am currently working on, have partially written or only just begun:

Decadence - (obviously) Reader x multiple egos.

Bewitched - Actor x Celine and William x Celine.

Timid - Eric Derekson solo.

Blinded - Damien x reader.

Conjugal Visit - Yancy x Illinois.

Water Under The Bridge - Actor x Wilford.

Breaking The Rules - Harold x Wilford.

Unnamed - Actor x William.

Unnamed - Eric x Wilford x Yancy.

Unnamed - Eric x Wilford.

Unnamed - Celine x William.

Unnamed - Murdoch x reader.

Unnamed - Eric x Wilford (again, sorry, I love that ship)

Unnamed - Yancy x reader.

Unnamed - William solo.

Unnamed - Darkiplier x Wilford.

I really should learn to finish before I start a new fic. But Timid is almost done!

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

fresh start. ( william murdoch x reader )

gif belongs to me

It happened in the morning as William was leaving for work. You had felt some pain in the middle of the night but did not want to trouble your sleeping husband, who was peaceful, unaware you had stayed awake most of the night from the tingles of pain in your abdomen. You had given him his hat that morning and straightened his tie as you kissed him goodbye before he left for work. Almost as soon as the door closed behind him, the pain returned full force, and you cried out, placing a hand on your bump as you grasped onto the sideboard in the hallway.

Murdoch was pushing his bike when he heard you cry out his name and turned, dropping his bicycle as he raced into the house, finding you on the ground, cheeks unnaturally pale and blood seeping through your dress.

"Y/N?" He knelt beside you, placing his hands on your cheeks, "Y/N!" His panicked eyes examined you for a moment before he checked for a pulse, darting to the telephone when he felt how faint it was.

That day William's world fell apart. You had lost your unborn child, and Murdoch was led to believe that he would lose you too. After a month in the hospital, you woke up, surviving despite the odds against you, and Murdoch's hands were trembling with relief when he covered your right hand with both of his, feeling you squeeze his hand in response. 

He delivered the news that you had lost your unborn child and held you as you broke down. In the months that followed, William felt he was losing you all over again. You rarely ate and rarely spoke to anyone, himself included, and William could only watch as the woman you were faded away each day into someone he didn't recognize.

A year passed by, and William found a glimmer of hope. An opportunity to return the light to your eyes and bring back the curious, exciting woman you once were. He was wary about leaving you behind, traveling ahead to start his new job at Station No.4 and prepare the house for your arrival. During the two weeks you were apart, William sent letters every day though he never expected any reply; his instinct told him you were reading them.

He had left the station early that day to meet you at the house, waiting outside for the horse and carriage to arrive. He opened the door, sending you a smile, as he offered you a hand to take as you stepped out.

"Did you receive my letters?"

You nodded, your eyes drifting to the house, casting a shadow over you both. Murdoch paid and thanked the carriage driver, turning to find you looking at the garden. 

"I thought that you could tend to the flowers. These, I believe, are wilted." He said as he moved to stand beside you.

You looked up at him, holding your skirts as you turned to him, seeing him up close for the first time in two weeks. In those two weeks, you had felt the silence in the house for the first time and treasured every letter he sent you. And you understood why he believed a change of scenery was a good idea. 

That night as you were sitting across from each other at the dining table, you prodded the food on your plate, lost in your thoughts, unaware of his concerned glances. 

"I loved your letters." You spoke up, almost startling him to the point where he nearly dropped his fork. "Perhaps we could visit the park you were telling me about? A picnic?"

William nodded, a smile forming on his lips. "That would be lovely."

You placed your fork down, resting your clasped hands on your lap. "I haven't been a very good wife, have I?"

"You went through something I could never begin to understand -"

"You needed me. It must have been so lonely, and I apologize sincerely Will - I -" You closed your eyes to hold back the tears appearing in them. "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault." He stood up, moving towards you when a sob left your lips. "It wasn't your doing." He placed a hand on your clasped hands as he knelt beside you. "There was nothing anyone could have done."

You met his gaze and placed a hand on his cheek, running your thumb across his cheekbone. "I love you, William Murdoch."

A soft smile formed on his lips. "And I love you, Mrs. Murdoch." He stood up, leaning down to kiss you tenderly. 

It was a fresh start. An opportunity to begin again and move on from the pain you had endured. And no, you would never forget the loss you had suffered, but you knew that come what may, you would always have each other.

[murdochmysteriesimagines]

Professor Marshall- William Murdoch

Request: I have s request were tne reader is Murdoch's sister but he does not know that. She acts like him has the same intelligence but Murdoch does not know that she is his sister until his farther tells him

A/N: The twist is unfortunately known but I hope I accomplished what was asked regardless. No obvious foreshadowing as the ending is already known to the audience.

__________________________________________

“Professor Marshall.” A tap at the door took your attention from your student. A potential escape from his seemingly endless ramblings and problems.

“May I help you?” Without moving, your eyes lingered from the youth to the door, an unrecognized figure in its place. The man introduced himself as Detective William Murdoch and asked for an audience with you. An unnerving request but simultaneously reliving as the subject would likely change from school work.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to call it there Mr. Williamson, just remember what I told you and try to get the paper in on time.” You scribble some coveted points on a slip of paper before allowing the student out of the room. Williamson left hesitantly but not with any protest, looking between his teacher and the Detective before sulking out.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Saving is more accurate Detective.” You motion to the chair opposite your desk for the officer. “Williamson is a good student but a nervous one.”

The Detective replied, now from your chair. “I ran into young Williamson earlier, I do not envy your position.”

“With all due respect Detective I don’t require your pity.”

You could tell he chose not to respond to the comment with his own, likely wanting to pursue his own wishes instead rather than being starved of wit. “I do wonder what business has brought the local constabulary to my office.”

He detailed the situation: a missing person was in possession of your business cards, published books and an unsent letters requesting a meeting; the unnerving concept of a stalker being in the city creeped into you.

“Do you have a name for this man? I have a right to know who will be breaking down my office door next.”

The Detective defused any supposed hostile intentions, somewhat sheepishly revealing the name to be similar to his own. “Harry Murdoch?” He nodded. Your disapproval no doubt cracked through your expression. “Am I to assume I Have unwillingly been inserted into a unorthodox family reunion.”

“I can assure you Professor, this I’d strictly police business.” He seemed confident in his words, a sentiment that you had no quarrels doubting out loud. “Such matters rarely stay professional Detective.” You checked your diary for the answer you already knew to the question not yet asked. “I see no Harry Murdoch or any other man I don’t already know, no false names I’m afraid.”

The interview did not lost much longer after that, both parties mutually sour to the other. You gave your information and confirmed you would be in contact if Harry contacted you; the hypothetical reason for such a event unknown to both of you.

“Thank you for your time Professor Marshall.” He stood to leave as you just finished writing down the phone number to his station house. “Detective Murdoch,” he paused halfway to the door as you peeled your eyes from the paper, “I hope you find your family Detective.”

For a moment he seemed to let his shield down, “Thank you.”

“Harry is your brother I assume?”

“Father actually.”

“I see,” you paused, not entirely sure what to say next, “let’s hope this situation has a positive conclusion for both of you.”

Less than a week passed before you found yourself but the Detectives presence again. This time however it was you invading his territory, answering his beckoning for another brief chat. Led to his office by a Constable the door closed behind you, left in the company of two men; the known detective and an aging man who looked like the drunk he likely was.

The introduction was brief, the missing father had been found and whatever business he got caught up in finished. The only remaining matter being why Harry possessed items with your name attached. The first question asked when the drunk was identified as who you already suspected. “Just how exactly do you know me?”

Arms remained crossed and refusing to meet Mr. Murdoch outstretched hand. The Detective meanwhile sat quietly behind his desk watching the events unfold. There he remained while you were enlightened on the details. Only when finished the Detective disbanded his silence. “I believe you would call this an ‘unorthodox family reunion.’ Professor.”

Something about the tone sparked amusement in your newly found father, a chuckle not shared with his eldest daughter. Both of the seniors children seemed stiff and awkward with the bestowed knowledge. “Am I to assume you want something Murdoch?” He seemed taken aback by this, William likely had the same speech lined up each time dear old dad showed up smelling of whiskey. “One doesn’t just suddenly appear after a lifetime for virtuosity reasons.”

Without another word you left, not with angry words but the dark reality, the newly found discomfort from being around the Detective not departing.

[murdochmysteriesimagines]

Vengeance- William Murdoch

Request: Hey I want a request with the reader being a vigilante doing killings of bad people like hawk eye in endgame who has a run in with Murdoch at some point

A/N: I wrote the reader as a man due to Hawkeye being used as a reference. Likely not what the requester had in mind but I like the idea. I’m tempted to write more to this in the future if it’s requested or not.

__________________________________________

Through the eye piece you saw the hotel room was still empty. A pair of guards would frequently enter to check its contents, expecting perhaps a figure to materialize past them and appear in the room. You assumed they stood outside patrolling the halls, enacting their profession. If anyone not in their group or a potential threat were to make their presence known it would be their job to neutralize it; a rare similarity you shared with organized crime.

You turned your attention back to assembling your rifle. Maybe the guards were checking to see if an assailant entered through a window. You preferred the distance and relative safety of an adjacent rooftop. You also wouldn’t have to risk scaling several floors and potentially falling. You peeked into the hotel room again. Only a rounded table with appropriate seating, still no targets.

Your rifle was ready for use. A tug on the straight pull bolt let you load the maximum of rounds into the weapon. The door opened again, this time the two guards were accompanied by three more men. Two you recognized from information forfeited by a previous target. That would make it two bosses and three guards in the room, two more outside in the halls making seven total if your information was accurate. If you were to judge by his cries of pain through broken teeth he was telling the truth. If you were quick enough you wouldn’t have to reload before more men showed up. The two in charge sat opposite each other with respective men standing behind their employers. You leaned the rifle over the edge and took aim down the iron sights. You learned the hard way the glare from scopes in the sunlight could give away your position. They poured drinks, lit cigars and made a toast to each others health; blissfully unaware of the sniper zoning in on the opposite rooftop.

Murdoch leaned into the eye glass peering into the opposite room, beside him Constable Crabtree worked with a recording device. With luck and planning they would be able to gather hard evidence on two rival gangs simultaneously. They knew the danger they were in if the situation turned sour. The guards were to believe the neighboring room was abandoned, along with the majority of the floor stocked with however many guards each rival faction was allowed to bring to this neutral ground.

The Detective looked over to his colleague. Through the headset George could hear the gentlemen next door talking, chairs shuffling, matches striking. He gave a thumbs up to confirm the functionality; as if on that cue a series of loud shots rang through the air. George pulled off the headset and covered his ears, Murdoch looked back through the hidden hole in the wall to see the final man fall dead onto the rug. 

“George” Murdoch got to his feet with with a service revolver drawn and at the ready, commanding his colleague to follow suit. For whatever reason the men engaged in combat rather than negotiate, an arranged and failed assassination Murdoch wondered. The two men moved through the empty hall and into the next room with caution. The act of preparing weapons was pointless as no man lived long enough to offer resistance. 

“Did you see the shots Sir?” George asked kneeling over a body, moments before a man choking on his own blood. “Sir?”

Murdoch’s mind was racing around the room. Five men were killed in the span of seconds, three had revolvers which laid next to them. A potential plan that ended in the death of all parties? Then what of the wounds, too large for sidearms, even at close range, and where did the broken glass from? Murdoch wondered while he glanced towards the window. 

The man grabbed his assumed partner and dropped to the floor. You had already reloaded for the remaining guards that would come to check on their bosses, two police officers were not expected. You never hesitated while on a hunt, you were primed to kill the first man to open the door but the uniform behind him stopped you. They could be dirty cops, not a rare species in the bigger cities,but you could not tolerate killing someone who was innocent to this business. The one styled in a suit forced his comrade to ducked out of sight. The most observant man in the hotel was looking for threats in the wrong places. You kept the barrel trained on the window the men hid under just in case they attempted to fire at you or do anything that would warrant a warning shot. A second passed before the company you expected appeared in the doorway. The guards who came to check the safety of their allies only to find them dead and two cops occupying the room. 

The first man barely had time to raise his gun and shoot before receiving your own round into his skull. The second one ducked behind the wall, the barrel of his gun still visible. You assumed three bullets would be enough to penetrate the wall and kill the final target. After the closely grouped shots went off you were proven right when the body that was once a man fell to the ground, likely to be the last one to die that day. You gave off a grin for another successful hunt, unfortunately putting but simultaneously saving the lives of two police officers. Having completed a the job you withdrew your rifle and pulled the bolt back to a safe position and raising a hand. 

“What on earth?” The Detective squinted at the shard of glass he used as a makeshift mirror. The sniper across the street had raised his hand and waved before disappearing out of sight, likely taking his gun and any evidence away with him. They might have interfered with their investigation beyond repair but sanctimoniously saved his and Crabtree’s lives. 

“What is it Sir?“ George kept his gun on the door in case anymore guards came into view. “He waved at us.“

Murdoch put down the glass down. Making the sign of the cross for the dead men’s souls, even if criminals they were still human. “I think we have an investigation on our hands.”

[murdochmysteriesimagines]

Resentment- William Murdoch

Request: Can I ask for a request William propose to American reader and Dr. Julia Ogden gets jealous as William and reader plan there wedding

A/N: As the time of year requires people’s attention to be elsewhere I was distracted in doing this swiftly.

__________________________________________

The red stone glistened in the light as you twirled the ring in your finger. Aside from the pieces look of beauty or as a signal of wealth it showed your fiancé’s devotion to you. It is that commitment that made you fall in love with him. In due time you would become wife to the one and only Detective Murdoch.

To most this was a worthy accomplishment and brought you frequent ‘congratulations’ from from family, friends and the constables of William’s station. Even in his office playing with your jewellery the occasional officer would poke his head in and give you his best. The cycle was interrupted however by another woman, an atmosphere less wholesome in her wake.

“y/n?”

You turned around to see Doctor Ogden entered the room, brown file in hand resting at her side and confusion on her face.

“Julia, how are you?”

“What are you doing here?” She ignored your question for her own. Your tempted to press on but decide not to act as the agressor. “I’m waiting for my fiancé.”

Julia’s jaw clenched in sync with her fist, you spoke only the truth but it still brought out aspects of rage in the Doctor. Keen not to over react Julia maintained her composure when speaking. “Do you know where William went?”

“Higgins said he stepped out with Constable Crabtree, something regarding his current case.”

At the mention of the topic Julia continued, displaying the file in her hand. “That’s why I’m here.” She lifted the item into view, “Post-mortem report, unfortunately nothing of interest or anything we didn’t already know.”

Julia bid you farewell before leaving. Not allowing you a second to return the plesantry or pursue the conversation any further. Barely a minute passed before William returned, no doubt having encountered Julia on his way in. You stood to kiss him in greeting before he noticed the file on his desk. Asking a troubling question to your fiancé.

“Sweetheart, have I insulted Doctor Ogden?”

The Detective looked confused momentarily before solving the simple mystery as quickly as it was introduced. “I think the good Doctor is experiencing a episode of jealousy.” You embarrassingly allowed yourself to be naive in Williams presence. You knew of Williams past with his colleague and held no ill feelings towards the other woman, apparently that feeling was not mutual. Before your mind had time to wander William once again stepped in.

“It’s like just the wedding y/n. We both moved on long ago.”

You were relieved to see William unfazed by the situation, a sign that he was more than likely correct about the topic. You embraced William in another kiss and close hug. Outside the office some Constables peaked at their stone cold Detective displaying human emotion and affection simultaneously; amusement struck on their faces. For you meanwhile it was another kiss given to your fiancé, it remind you why he had taken the title. Relying on logic over emotion and always looking for the positive outcome in a situation. Traits he would carry into husbandry.

[murdochmysteriesimagines]

Caution- William Murdoch

Request: Could I possibly make a request for William 188,77

77: “Are you jealous?”

188: “Mine.”

A/N: I don’t take Murdoch for the jealous type but he has shown moments of being overly protective. This is shorter than normal but I think the length is appropriate.

__________________________________________________

William entered the morgue to hear the soft sound of laughter emoting from the main room. It was a pleasant change, a kind sound in a naturally grim environment. The Detective recognized its owner as his sweetheart. But so distracted by the sound he lacked the foresight to question who was in fact making you laugh.

Walking into the main room he found the answer to his unasked question as he found your smiling figure in the company of an unfamiliar man handling a bloodied apron. Noticing the Detectives presence you finish washing your hands and make your way towards him.

“Good day Detective.” You smile, leaning up for a kiss to which he graciously returns. For a split second after you separate his gaze is redirected to the other man in the room.

“New morgue hand?” He asks when his eyes return to you and away from the younger man who’s occupied by the dirty cloths from the autopsy. You answer positively but the words seem to miss him as his attention returns to the man. Watching with envious eyes until the stranger once again addressed you. “Will there be anything else doctor?”

Kindly you dismiss him before the Detective has a chance to lash out in any regrettable manner. When he’s out of ear shot you find a mocking tone to question your partner.

“Are you jealous William?” You question as he gives an evil eye to the back of an attendances head.

“I see it as being cautious.” The Detective replies, his stare now lingering on a empty hallway.

“Cautious?” A small laugh causes William’s attention to shift back to you and glare to soften. “I didn’t realize my employees were such a threat.”

Quickly you find a place in between his arms that comfortably rest on your lower back. Leaning in for a kiss you whisper before locking lips, a message which spirit is often repeated from one lover to another. “Remember William, no matter what happens you always be mine.”

[murdochmysteriesimagines]

Asian Glow- William Murdoch, Julia Ogden, John Brackenreid

Request(s): I loved your last imagine so so so much, I can only thank you for it. Just such a nice idea that Jilliam would have a daughter from China, Can you do a sequel to it please. If it’s not to much trouble. Some more sweet fluff

I want a thing where Jon and a female reader get drunk and confess she likes him

A/N: I decided to combine these two requests as they both worked together but I did not sacrifice one for the other. This was rewritten once and I prefer this version.

This can be seen as a spiritual successor to 庆典 (celebration).

__________________________________________

You muttered a swear under your breath as John took your queen and forced you into check mate. A repeated action for the third time that night. As an immediate response Julia, your mother, clears her throat. A ‘watch your language’ look to follow.

Apologizing you turn back to John who sits beside his father on the opposite couch while your family occupies the other. His mother and little brother scurry around the kitchen preparing dinner out of sight. The adults enteriatin themselves through conversation while their children play chess beside them.

A quarter of the way into your next game with John his father asks you a question, “What about you y/n?” You stutter for a moment, admittidly you were giving your attention onto John more than the proper adults next to you.

“Pardon?”

“The parade last week, how was it?”

You smile at the memory: leaning into your fathers side during the Chinese New Year festival flashed through your mind.

“It was fun. I’m glad we finally got a chance to go.” You tell with modest enthusiasm, “You should come with us next year.”

Brackenried shakes his head slightly. “I don’t think Chinatown is quite our style, but thank you.” As he finishes Mrs Brackenried comes into the sitting room announcing dinner to be ready.

Before standing John steals your attention. “Ignore him. I’ll go with if you want.” You can’t stop yourself from smiling at his gentalmanly offer. “Thank you John.”

“Wine y/n?” Mrs Brackenried offers holding the subject bottle in her hand. You stop talking with your father sitting next to you and stare at her for a second. You were not one to drink; being a stranger to alcohol apart from a small sherry with your mother on a rare occasion. Before you can answer your mother next to your father answers on your behalf.

Immediately a red liquor fills the glass before you. A toast is proposed and acted out between the two families. “To health,” Mr Brackenried raised his glass, everyone else following suit and echoed before taking a drink. You nearly choked on the liquid burned the back of your throat, the bitter taste sticking to your tongue like a unwanted disease.

Trying to ignore it you ate your dinner, talking with John across from you as the evening progresses.

The last of the wine slid down your throat, smooth and surprisingly appealing this time. The evening was coming to a close as everyone gradually finished their meals. You and John conversed while the proper adults talked among each other; he was the first to notice the gradual effect the alcohol had on you.

“Are you sure you’re alright y/n?” He asked as you finished the last of red liquid.

You let out a series of giggles before answering, unsure why the question was so humerious.

“Of c-course. Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

The laughing escalated until the entire table had taken notice of your drunken appearance. Thomas immediately found amusement in your reddened face and almost idiotic laughter. The groups expressions fixate in a state of bewilderment or entertainment.

“What’s wrong?” You grab onto your fathers forearm in a blind panic, desperate for an answer. In an unintentionally loud whisper you plead with the detective. “Did I do something bad?”

Gently Murdoch guides you into a standing position. You lean against him as your legs suddenly seem to be untrustworthy. “Everything is fine y/n. I just think we should be heading home now.”

Your giggling resumes at a low volume at the news. Julia starts to apologize on your behalf but any words she said are mute to you. Instead your focus keeps going towards the handsome John on the other side of the table. You wish he was holding you instead of your father, not that you didn’t love your dad but John was much more attractive. If he was holding you right now you would know exactly why your legs weren’t working.

After calling out for John he cautiously comes around the table to your side. With William distracted by your mother for a brief moment your able to break free from and relocate into John’s arms. Luckily he is able to support you without notice and you find yourself in his strong grip. Your giggling continues as your own arms hug tightly around the handsome friend and cuddle into his chest.

Unsurprisingly your actions were far from discrete as everyone present has noticed the sudden affection. The Inspector starts laughing as his son fails to hide a blush brought on by his friend clinging to his chest.

Wordlessly Murdoch pulls you off of John and out of the room to the protests of his drunken daughter, craving for more time in the company of one of his constables. Meanwhile his wife continues to apologize for the sudden departure before leaving, but not without giving John a look of reassurance regarding her daughter.

You swung around in your fathers arms as Julia tried to open the hotel door with her key. They both hoped you would retire in the carriage ride but you managed to stay awake with incoherent rambles and endless giggles. You continued to move around in Williams gentle but firm grip despite your legs seemingly unable to support your weight. Julia opened the door and your father led you inside, spontaneously your babbling continues, interrupting whatever conversation your parents were already having.

“Thank you!” You blurt out as Murdoch attempts to guide you around the furniture and invisible objects you trip over.

“Thank us for what?” Julia follows close behind as you continue to rant in a confused manner.

“For t-taking care of me for all these years.” Murdoch manages to get you into your bedroom, yourself still unaware of what is going on as you continue talking.

“You could have found any other kid out there. But you picked me out of... hundereds maybe, hundreds of kids.” In your current state you don’t realize the unnecessary exaggeration but continue regardless. “Anyone of them could have been yours but you two went for me. I just want to say thank you.”

By now your father had placed you in bed, Julia waits in the doorway quietly listening. Once William manages to get you under the blanket he responds. You wearily look up at him as the bed and alcohol start to pull you under.

“You’re our daughter y/n, you don’t need to thank us.”

“But I do, you both picked me over anyone else.” You almost weep out the words.

William smiles to himself, you don’t see it but Julia shares in his delight at a distant memory. “Don’t you remember the story of when we first met you y/n?” Your father asks, you shake your head in denial. They have told you the events several times over years but unsurprisingly it escaped your memory.

“You were a little older than two when you wandered up to us and grabbed onto my trouser leg.” A glow comes over his face as he remembers. “We were already looking to adopt and you seemed to take a shine to us from across the room.” You share in the smiles going around the room as you sink further into the mattress.

“Your mother picked you up and then you introduced yourself as best you could, by clinging onto her and refusing to let go. The second anyone tried to take you away you would cry until they stopped.”

“We walked out of the orphanage with you by the end of the week.” Julia finishes the story for her husband.

“Well I guess I made the right choice.” You giggle slightly at your own joke before finally subcoming to the irresistible allure of slumber that warmly welcomed you.

[murdochmysteriesimagines]

The Event- William Murdoch, Julia Ogden

Request: So, I got the idea of maybe Murdoch and Ogden s having a kid like in the other imagines but this time they got raped and their parents help her recover.

A/N: I started writing and it took off from there, this will be different from other stories I’ve written.

__________________________________________________

Your vision begins to fade from a black darkness. The right side of your face thumped in theme with pain as conscience came back to you. Your thoughts were unfocused, scattered reminders slowly being pulled together as the gravity of the situation became apparent.

When your eyes start to cooperate you’re able to recognize your surroundings through a slit in a poorly tied blindfold. A private office in a building that likely remains empty apart from two people who take notice of your awakened state. Your vision is unclear but one of the faces is not new, last seen pulling you off a city street and smashing your head against a brick wall.

Before you have a opportunity to speak you release a suppressed groan, muffled by bound cloth over your mouth.

Panic started to set in.

The men argued about their situation and your involvement. The stranger stating how his partner in crime had overstepped in his actions. “I told you to get us a advantage, not take hostages!”

“You told me to get leverage and that’s what she is.” he points towards you, “That girl is our ticket out of this city with all the gold we can carry.”

“Yes, ‘that girl’.” The stranger curls his words in disdain. “You could have found any old Trollope off the street but you went and kidnaped the daughter of the lead detective!” His screaming makes you flinch in your restrainted seat.

“What good is some random citizen to us? ‘That girl’ has all the power in her name.” The other man retorts with a unearned sense of confidence.

The men continue to bicker among themselves, resulting in the one opposing your capture to leave the room, claiming you would cause their downfall. The slamming of the door marked a new atmosphere in your situation. You were now left alone with your kidnapper.

The air seemed to become tainted with the aroma of his toxic presence. Through the blindfold you see him approaching you slowly, a certain hesitation in his step that is overruled with each move forward. In no time he stands directly in front of you, the only defence you can muster is to seal your eyes and start a silent prayer.

“My colleague is not too found of you Miss Murdoch.” He curled your last name to make it into a threat. Those seven letters attached to you was the so called leverage he wanted.

“However, I know your going to help us, you seem like a helpful person.” He leans to your eye level, arms proper on each side of you, “You’re going to help me right?” He moves uncomfortably close to you, able to feel his breath against your face.

One of his rough hands carressed your cheek as you rapidly nod in agreement. “That’s a girl,” his other hand went to your shoulder, “Most women aren’t as helpful as you.” He strokes your hair before both hands reunite groping the bumps on your chest. “Or as pretty.” You protest the action but no matter the volume or restrained resistance the assailant continues his action. You could imagine the perverted grin plastered on his face as the hands travel down to your core. Any barrier posed by your dress or garments are removed or torn away despite increased complaint.

You wept when his dirty hands molested your bare thighs, legs parted and bond by ropes making his desired objective defenceless. Through tears and drool stained rags you begged for his mercy, muffled into incoherent babble.

All however fall on deaf ears as the rustle of pants and menacing laugh fill the room.

In the distance the thundering of raised voices and hurried footsteps could be heard. Instead of reacting to the development you stayed still, aided by the restraints that dig into your flesh for a full day and night. If the noise police men they would likely find you, but if it was a false alarm you would risk another round of punishment. The noise grew closer to your location, quickly towards the office door that locked you in the room. The lock was unable to sustain a swift boot, having gave way and granting access to the prisoner within.

You were still blocking out the world when a constable beckoned for the detective. Until your father comes in and removed the blindfold you mimicked a statue, pretending to be in a fantasy until his face is revealed; bearing the full weight of the reality that falls upon you in the brief second Murdoch stared back at you.

For the first time since the incident you allow yourself to cry. Once the bonds are cut you fall into his embracing arms. Allowing the burning emotions inside to finally come out. William instructed a constable to fetch Doctor Ogden, his wife, your mother. A short-lived panic rose at the realization that your parents would see you in this moment, the aftermath of an event without the time to collect yourself. But as quickly as the notion comes it is lost, the desire and need of the two people closest to you outweighed any other.

William positioned himself against a wall, cradling his child against his chest as you stuttered on tears. “Dad-that man he-he-he.”

William instead shushed you. Pulling you closer into his grip. Minutes pass and the office door creeks open again, peaking in the requested doctor, the woman who fought for her precense at the police raid. Upon immediate observation she could see the distress, at a second glance she saw the minuscule details; the marks from bondage and rips across your skirt, the evidence of an event that would leave scars.

She closed the door behind her before approaching her family. You didnt register her arrival, or have a memory of pulling on her arm like a young child to join the group hug. You only remembered the presence of their two bodies, William’s hand stroking your hair, the way Julia called you ‘sweetheart’ or ‘baby girl’. In the security of their presence you told of the past event. At any moment when you became over come with tears your parents would provide the nessesary comfort. They didn’t make you forget the moment, they couldn’t, but they could help you heal.

[murdochmysteriesimagines]

Buried- William Murdoch

Request: Hu I am a huge fan of William Murdoch can you do one where reader gets kidnapped and buried alive and dang it I for got the commanding officers name anyway he and Crabtree act as a distraction so William can find me and he proposes!

Reader is a female

A/N: I diverged somewhat from the original request for in my opinion a better story. Since this idea is already from a existing episode I simply did not want to repeat the script. I hope this was worth the wait.

Setting: Season: 5 Episode: 11

__________________________________

The sight of William’s bare back greets you as your cast away from slumber. Still drowsy your arm snakes out to touch him, the warmth from your fingers a sharp contrast to his almost frozen fresh.

“William, your cold.” Your voice is horsed but the concern is still noticeable.

“I didn’t sleep.” His voice reflects this.

Freeing your upper tourso from the comforter you move behind William. Pressing yourself against his icy skin you provide heat once concealed under the blankets. He barely acknowledges your presence as your head nuzzles into his neck. He remains still.

“Your worried about Gillies.”

“How can I not y/n? He’s out of prison with a personal vendetta against us.”

Your arms tighten around his waist in an attempt to calm William. You know he acts with the weight of the world on his shoulders. It’s your responsibility to try and ease that weight, even if you cannot help him carry it.

“We’ll be fine William. It’s one man against the entire Toronto Constabulary.”

“But that ‘one man’ is a James Gillies.”

You pull him closer to you at the end of the sentence; inhaling his scent and leaving a trail of kisses up William’s neck. This seems to relax your partner as his muscles ease at the touch. “I love you William.” You losen your grip as William turns his body to face you, embracing your soft lips with his own. “I love you too.”

Cold, you were cold. Your body, mind, most likely your breath would be visible if you could see anything. It was almost as if your body was trapped inside a vacuum, dark and freezing; but with stale air lacking circulation. Panic quickly set in, over coming curiosity and pushing away rational thought. Desperate hands clawed at the roof of your chamber. Only inches away from your spot lying down on your back. Skin burned against the wooden surface. Friction causing blood to be drawn in a vain attempt at escape. You cried for him, cried for William, screaming at the top of your lungs for any sole to hear you. No one would reply as you bawled, for no one could hear you. No one would hear you die.

Murdoch’s jaw tightened, hands turning to fists. The man across from him ensighted this level of anger with such ease. Gillies laid back in his chair with a malicious giggle. It was a pleasure to watch the Detective restrain himself. Planing his next move behind a face failing to contain any rage.

“Tell me where she is.” Murdoch’s voice strained against Clenched teeth.

“Come now Detective. You have nothing to hold against me so I have no reason to tell you. Besides, it would ruin the fun.” Murdoch stood at the final remark, slowly edging his way around the table as the criminal continued his laughter.

“This is all a game to you, isn’t it?” He was hovering over him now with Gillies peaking over his shoulder to see the clearly frustrated man.

“A game? Perhaps, but I see it as more of a riddle that you posses all the clues to its solution. Just remember.” Gillies looks away to the wall in front of him “If you can’t solve it. y/n dies.”

The motion was swift and clean.

Murdoch latched onto the back of Gillies skull before pulling back. Violently tugging at his hair as his face was brought into the wooden table. Gillies lifted his head a second after contact, sampling fresh blood on his lips that drained from his broken nose. With a red stain on his front teeth Gillies continued his mad laughter. Getting louder as Murdoch walked out of the room; slamming the door on his abrupt exit.

Crabtree passed a folder to the Inspector. Both men worked from the pair of desks outside the Detective’s office; reviewing any piece of evidence that could give a possible hint to the location of Murdoch’s sweet heart. From inside the office the Detective worked over a recording device with Alexander Graham Bell who agreed to help with the investigation.

Brackenried sighed out of frustration. “We have combed through every piece of information twice over and we’re no closer to a conclusion.”

Crabtree looked up from his transcript of a recorded conversation. “I agree Sir but for the Detectives sake let’s not him that.” He motions to the man through the glass window.

Brackenried ed in closer, hushing his voice as a extra precaution. “We have every available man out there looking. At this point I think Murdoch is the only one who can help her with that recording.”

As if on cue Murdoch jumps out of the office, breathless he leans down on the desks occupied by his colleagues.

“She’s buried, y/n is buried!”

“Murdoch slow down.” Brackenried tries to calm the man to no avail.

“The church where we found Perry and the doll. There were two freshly dug graves. y/n is in one of them.”

Both men stood to join the Detective, Brackenried instructed them to get a carriage immediately. Murdoch rushed off to the exit without hesitation. Crabtree was almost out the door but stopped when he saw the Inspector rummaging through Murdoch’s desk.

Before he had time to question the man was already moving to catch up. When in ear shot Brackenried explained his dubious actions, holding up a small silver case for clarification.

“I saw him hiding this last week.”

Prying the container Brackenreid reveled a shining engagement ring, much to Crabtree’s surprise.

“If she is still alive he’d be a fool not to ask now.”