themusemanor | PSL - James Watson | Helen Magnus ---> We're glad for what we've got

It had been a long day, and James had felt it as much as he had. Dealing with Adam, dealing with Spring Heeled Jack, dealing with Helen, with both Helen's, that was a bit much. It had taken it's toll on him that day but he had still taken it to go out and help the, well future Helen settle in, before he had returned, and slipped away into his study. Yes he was willing to talk but he needed to relax himself first.

So doing so, he had settled into his armchair, violin out and had started to play. It was an easy enough thing for him to do, to play to relax, eyes closed and lost in the music, playing for no one in particular. It was however, loud enough to be heard by anyone outside the door, which was partially cracked open, a sign to come in if she wanted to. It was safe enough, and he was willing to talk if they wanted too.

It was late when Helen approached the study, stopping just around the corner as she heard the sounds of the violin. For a few moments, she stood there, breathing in and listening to the soothing melody as she allowed the notes to flow over her like a calming wave. It helped, but it wasn't enough. She needed something more, the comforting presence of a person she trusted, one of the few now, it would seem. And yet, she was hesitant to interrupt him, knowing how he liked to use music to heal himself. Helen had never been the selfish type, willing to do absolutely anything to keep everyone safe and happy around her, even if that meant sacrificing her own comfort.

So, for a while, she just stood there, unwilling to be selfish, unwilling to cause him to stop. They'd both had a trying day - and him more so than she realized. She wanted to give him time.

When it appeared that he was slowing down, pausing - whether to invite her in or to take a break didn't matter - she finally crossed the distance between herself and the door. Reaching up with a hand, she knocked softly. With luck, he'd be willing to see her now.

James also wasn't the selfish type, he would have put the violin down, moved over to the sofa that sat in front of the fire as opposed to his chair that was off just to the side in front of a wall, to protect his back and give him a clear view of the room and door, but it would have been to comfort her. He was willing to do that, and really so much more, for her, to make her happy. He hated seeing that sadness in her, that pain, of things. But as he didn't know, he kept playing, quite a lot of the tension he had from the day leaving him.

And when he hit that mark where he was slowing down, pausing, it was as much to think for the moment, to over think things as it was to invite anyone waiting for him to come in. So he had to quirk a small, very small smile at the knock, putting the violin down on his lap, even as he eyed the door. "Come in."

Helen took a deep breath and opened the door. Stepping inside, she turned to close it, making sure it was open just a touch still. It would be improper at this point for her to shut it completely. Still, she wanted as much privacy as they could get at the moment, hence the door was nearly shut... but not quite.

"I didn't want to interrupt," she admitted softly, debating if she should wait for him to show her where it would be acceptable to sit. They were old friends, but some habits didn't die as quickly. "I hope you don't mind. I had wanted to see how you were doing."

Among other things that involved simply being comforted. She hated feeling like a child like this, but she couldn't really help it. Not right now.

He just watched the door, and smiled as Helen came in. It was really no surprise, that she would be coming to him, after the way things had been. He didn't make any comment about the door, it was an understandable action, it was after all only them and a handful of house staff, to be locked away in a room together would send the wrong message.

But he shook his head at that, waving her to the sofa with a hand as he settled the violin in it's case with the other a touch awkwardly, "Of course not darling," and he smiled as he said it, making sure his violin was put away properly, just in case she made any, motion that she would accept him joining her.

"And I, am, doing, as well as can be expected, given the circumstances,"

Helen gave a tired smile in return, crossing the room when he offered. Smoothing her skirts, she sat down on the sofa, leaving room in a clear invitation for him to join her if he so desired. She folded her hands in her lap and tried to find the words that wouldn't quite slide any further than her throat.

"I am glad. I suppose that's all we can do with the situation."

It said something that the whole thing with Adam had thrown her for such a loop, but that was what happened when death and children were involved. It reminded her of the situation with her own unborn child, the one she hadn't yet wanted to bring to term, but couldn't bear the thought of terminating. She dropped her gaze to her hands, squeezing them together a little tighter to comfort herself.

"I wanted to thank you... for your help. I don't know what I would have done otherwise."

He frowned slightly at that tired smile, he knew how that was, had been feeling it himself. But when she left that seat open, he stood up and claimed it, if they were going to discuss this, then it would only be fair.

"It is, when all things are said and done."

And he was right, in thinking that she would need the comfort. The situation with Adam, knowing what he did, knowing what would have happened, it made this more bearable. For him at least, for her, he couldn't imagine, not knowing the the full story and being left to wonder, to ponder certain things, certain well, acts. But he also couldn't share that and so knowing that he touched her arm, in a small act to comfort her.

"There is no need Helen, to thank me. I am as much a part of this as you are, and I am your friend." And he watched her, waiting to see how she would respond.

Helen let her eyes search James' face as he sat down next to her and she moved a little nearer to him, close enough for comfort, but not too close as to be improper. When he reached for her arm, she allowed the touch, letting her eyes rest upon his hand for a moment before she moved her other hand and placed it atop his on her arm. She wasn't much of a touching kind of person, but this was nice. It was needed.

She opened her mouth to thank him again, but then closed it with a smile. He'd said not to thank him, yet she couldn't allow him to go without seeing the gratitude in her eyes as she looked back up at him, her smile warming just a touch.

"A better friend I couldn't have, I wager," she answered after a while, finally coming up with words that didn't sound foolish to her ears. Or as foolish. "Who else could I talk theory with in the day and... field test at night?"

That was an interesting was of putting it, but she couldn't quite come up with anything else that would make sense and not be completely insane should someone overhear who shouldn't.

James was fine with that, there was after all, a certain distance they had to keep, a certain image. Even if his heart was on his sleeve to some extent, and his touching her arm was only out of some way to comfort her, finding it a little easier to show how he felt. He cared really. So her touch on his hand got a more warm smile at that. It was needed, it was nice.

He did chuckle at her getting ready to thank him again though, he saw it in her eyes and he smiled more. This was safe, this was normal. And at least in some way he was getting certain things out.

"One could say otherwise, with certain, activities of mine," in reference to his detective work, in certain habits he may indulge in on occasion. But that wording, oh that got a slight, teasing smirk back. "Who else would I have on my arm, when I ask them to a show? Or one of those society parties that, seems to have become a part of life."

That was safe, that wasn't much in the way of teasing but, "Though, your field tests, not, all of those tests are conducted in the field."

Her smile turned a touch embarrassed and she ducked her head just a little bit before her cheeks reddened too much and gave her away. His words rang true and while nothing untoward had ever happened between them - indeed, he was a great friend to her at the very least - she did feel quite close to him... and his words held a note of intrigue, something she couldn't ignore, not even in light of the last decade.

James' presence at her side was a calming influence. She took another deep breath as they sat there, turning just slightly so she could face him better. Her arm didn't move under his hand and her hand didn't move from its place atop his.

"They may have become a part of life, but at least our lives are never dull," she replied sweetly. This conversation had already elicited her first real smiles in quite some time. It was nice. "And if not in the field, then where else?"

Oh this had the potential to end quite badly indeed, but she couldn't help herself.

He wasn't going to forgive her that, really. Making her blush, embarrassed it was the best possible way to get her to ignore recent events, the last decade. As close as they were, and he would always be supportive of her, it was what he did, what he was. Though he was more willing to, show his other feelings, thoughts, musings really (were they really his feelings or just an extension of his protective urges of her after John?) but it was something.

And really just calming her was more than enough for him to be happy, sitting at her side like always. It was all he could ask for, or at least all he thought he could. So when she turned that brought out a more charming smile really, yes he was putting on his best face for her.

"No they never are, never dull in your home Helen, always new things to explore," oh this conversation was going in a way that at least had him grinning. And he was so glad to see those smiles! "And well here in your, father's home, the things you can do Helen, the things that you do, always amaze me, and are always a wonder to watch."

Oh yes this conversation could end very badly, but he was having far to much fun to stop.

Helen's hand moved for just a moment, a little twitch upwards almost as though she wanted to touch his arm, before she reached to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Protective urges or not, they helped, as did everything related to this talk, her relationship with James. She was very grateful he'd stuck with her through everything. Honestly, she really didn't know what she'd do without him.

Her hand rested back on top of his, giving it a small squeeze. "I always knew you were a flatterer, James," she laughed softly. "I just never thought it would be quite like this."

The flattery, the confidence... it was all very nice, but it also made her a little sad. Once upon a time, she'd been innocent enough to believe things like that. A part of her still believed it, more so because it came from James. Were it anyone else, she would think they were just trying to woo her, to make her believe that they cared about her as a person instead of as the very intelligent woman from Oxford. No, James liked her for who she was. That much she was certain of.

Her smile warmed a bit more. "Really, it's always a pleasure to work with you." And it was, more than she could say.

James watched her hand, waiting for that touch, he wouldn't demand it, never would really. Again those protective urges but it was part of their relationship, they did as they could, not demanding more out of the other. It was a relationship many would, over think to be more, even if it wasn't, and he honestly didn't know what he would do without Helen. Having their, close friendship was more than enough if it kept her.

So he just smiled at her some, waiting really for another response, but his face fell slightly. Ah well, that, well he could live with that, so he squeezed her arm gently back, keeping the smile ever so slightly. "It is a gift of the age, Helen, nothing more."

Yes James liked her for who she was, it was really what attracted her to him. An intelligent woman from Oxford, the woman with a sharp tongue and a mind that always amazed him with what it contained. Secret wants, desires of his really to want her for more than a friend, that his flattery was not just idle, that his confidence was not just because of their friendship. But he wouldn't press it, not now.

So he just smiled still, ducking his head down. Oh he would wait. "And it has always been a pleasure to work with you Helen, to be allowed in your home, to work at your side. Nothing could match that."

Helen leaned just a touch when he ducked his head, trying to look him in the eyes again. Her smile fell just a touch as his did. She noticed it - of course she did - and wanted to know why, what he was thinking, but she wasn't quite sure how to ask.

"Darling?" she inquired before she could stop herself, ducking her own head just a touch. With another deep breath, she looked back at him, trying to catch his eye. Somehow, despite how far they'd come recently, everything they'd been forced to deal with, they were cutting each other off and she didn't like that.

She wanted to tilt his head up to look at her, but she refrained, letting him do that of his own will. If he desired to.

"You know I could have nothing else. You are important to me, always have been." And always would be, if she had anything to say about it.

Of course she would notice, it was something hard not too. But what he was thinking he wouldn't share, she obviously hadn't considered it, or was telling him that it wasn't possible. He was getting rather good at this whole getting his hopes crushed thing sadly.

And somehow, if she had tilted his head up, made that gesture, he would have caved and told her. So he just flashed her a small smile when she ducked her own head down, 'darling', had she called him that? Well it was, better than before, so he tilted his head up, smiling at her still slightly. "I'm fine."

He just rather wished she had been the one to do it was all, really.

"And you have been to me, Helen. Always. If you need something, anything, please, ask." And she would always be important to him.

He was still acting a little oddly but at least now he was looking at her. That helped. It made her think that, perhaps, something was getting through, melting the walls between them. If things hadn't been so emotionally draining lately, she might have been tempted to do something a little different. But, as the situation stood, she was too tired mentally. She wasn't even sure what she wanted.

He wasn't fine. Helen could tell that much. What she didn't know was how to fix it, how to make things better. So she did the only thing she could do at the moment. Hesitantly, she reached her hand up towards his face, gently running her fingers through his hair for a moment before letting it drop to his shoulder.

What did she need? What did she want? Even she wasn't entirely sure. She knew she wanted James to stay at her side for as long as possible. That much she didn't want to change. The rest of it? Well, maybe it would come with time, when she could adjust to another relationship so soon. As it was, she merely looked James in the eyes.

"You don't look fine."

No more than she did, she supposed, and it would be fair of him to point that out, much as she would have rathered he not.

He was fine, if he kept telling himself that than he could possibly, maybe, believe it himself. That he would be fine, that what Helen, was not doing, would be fine by him, that the little things were just her signs of friendship. Of how much she cared, and he shouldn't think it more than that. If he told himself that, well he could at least keep them on good terms no matter what happened.

But her hand, that was confusing things. He had closed his eyes when he felt her fingers in his hair, enjoying the feeling more than likely far too much than he should, and he took a breath at her hand on his shoulder. He didn't move it, didn't shrug it off, instead he left it there, enjoying the contact.

But the confusion. Even his mind couldn't figure it out, and he was the smartest of them all practically. She had made all the indications that she cared more than she said she did, and yet he was certain she didn't want, what he did but, the touching. The words when she didn't watch it, all of it.

It was making things difficult.

But he looked her in the eyes, and smiled, slightly, letting out a long breath as he moved his hand off her arm up to gently, hesitantly, cup her cheek. "Recent, events have been rather trying is all." He would never turn it on her, not after what had happened earlier.

Helen's breath caught silently in her chest at his touch to her cheek and her eyes flicked down to his lips for the briefest of seconds. She wanted... but that would be too forward, too much for their present situation... and her heart. And if someone saw them? Oh the scandal. It was bad enough that she'd been betrothed and had broken it off. Now she was a unmarried woman in her late forties and the gossip that sometimes followed her haunted her. She could imagine the stories floating around about the two of them already and those were likely bad enough.

Even so, she couldn't help her feelings...

Sighing softly, she let her gaze drop back to her free hand, which was still resting in her lap. Her other hand slid down to his lower arm, but she didn't move it past that, still wanting some measure of contact. His hand on her cheek wasn't shrugged off at all. In fact, she very nearly seemed to lean into it.

"I daresay they have for both of us," she murmured, her voice just barely above a whisper. "But at least we have each other. Our... friendship." Whatever it was.

James had learned, long ago, that rumors were little more than the result of idle minds needing some sort of conversation starter. While he could dance around polite society as well as her, in fact had done so very carefully in recent times all things considered with Helen, and John and than Spring-Heeled Jack. But the recent ones about them, in her hours with Gregory away, he was only thankful they were in his study in the house.

Because his feelings, that urge to do something, that would more than likely result in him being forced to leave, those were hard to ignore, and it was taking quite some effort on his side to not act on that.

He noted her sigh though, frowned slightly as he felt her hand move down his arm, leaving his hand on her cheek but, almost worried something was wrong. But he didn't move his hand when he thought she leaned into it, keeping his own free hand resting on his own lap, trying to avoid touching her too much.

"Yes, we do," and there was a certain sadness in his eyes, in his voice, at hearing her use the phrase friendship. It was hard to overcome really, right now when he had her cheek in his hand and her so close (actually closer as he shifted ever so slightly towards her), and he just hoped it wouldn't scare her off. "And that, is something worth treasuring."

Again, she noticed, and her expression fell a little further. He wasn't okay. He still wasn't. And yet he refused to tell her what was wrong. She knew that no amount of prying would get it out of him, but she hated that. She wanted to be able to help him, to fix whatever wrong she'd done him.

She wasn't scared off by his movement, even as it added an extra layer of confusion and worry to the already very large pile. Part of her wanted to act on some other thought, something she hadn't allowed herself to consider while John was still at large. However, in light of recent events...

No, she still needed to keep up appearances, let her heart settle.

"Yes. Always," she agreed softly. She paused for a moment before moving just a little bit closer, close enough to turn to rest her cheek against his shoulder and lean against him. It wasn't proper by any means, but she found she didn't much care. Having already defied the boundaries of society by not marrying before she turned twenty and having a child before she was thirty, Helen saw no reason to obey every last law of society. Or at least, tonight she didn't. Her hand slid further down his arm until she was resting it on his hand, letting him know that he meant a great deal to her.

"And I hope you will always be here." Always... as long as she was.

He hated being the cause of her expression falling, hated seeing her upset that he couldn't express what he felt. But how could he when he knew she didn't want what he did? That, if he did tell her, it would force them apart or together in a way that wouldn't work for them, or so he thought. Not when she wasn't ready, not after John.

And it was proving to be difficult, letting her settle, letting her heal. When he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and...

Well now wasn't that nice.

He didn't fight it, saw no reason to really. And he even shifted his arm to wrap around her shoulders, hesitantly of course. This was going against everything, every rule, every norm they lived by to sit like this. But he didn't care, and he showed it by squeezing her hand gently with the hand hers was resting on, turning it over to take her hand in his, relaxing more. This was, doing things, sending all the wrong messages, did she want more? Or did she want him to wait, and was teasing? Or what?

For now though all he could do, and did was hold her close, enjoying the fire and her company. "Of course Helen, always. I will, always, be here for you." And longer, she would always have a home with him, even if she chose not to see it.

At least it couldn't be said that they were doing anything completely inappropriate. Only marginally, and not behind closed doors, which would have been more of a scandal. Honestly, she was glad precious few people knew about her pregnancy, short as it had been. That would have been the biggest scandal. The intelligent woman from Oxford having a child out of wedlock would have given half of England something to talk about. She was glad to have avoided that.

What she hadn't avoided were the lingering emotions, the fear of attachment... and the subsequent attachment that had happened without her noticing. She blamed it on how much time they spent together, the work they'd been doing. Half of the time, their world simply revolved around, well... them, and Helen would have it no other way.

She allowed him to take her hand, slowly wrapping her fingers around his, holding him, letting him hold her. It all felt so nice, so forbidden, like they were adolescents in an alley instead of adults just past their prime of life.

In the morning, regret would seep in for the possible damage she was doing to their relationship. Friendship. But right now, she was enjoying the comfort. It was rare enough that she accepted physical contact. Rarer still when she sought it out so freely.

"What are we doing tomorrow evening?"

Not "you," not "I." We.

That was true they weren't doing anything inappropriate. Well not fully, it would have been enough however for his mother to scowl and chase him out of the room however, and berate Helen for seducing his oldest, intelligent son. But if that was bad, he would not have wanted her pregnancy to be known either. The scandal alone would ruin the Sanctuary of that he had little doubt, and then, well he would have been pressured himself into things by friends, family, concerned other persons. It would have driven him from Helen, intentionally or not.

And he didn't want that.

What he was trying to do, was trying to let in was the fact that she needed time. While she had it (and then Jack had come and ruined that and it was not a point in time James wanted to relive thank you), things had not worked out and even with them working in such close proximity to one another all the time, where their world was just them and their work, it was, not hard to see where the attraction, the affection, the feelings came from. He just had to give her time, she hadn't asked vocally but he could see it, which made it so hard for him at the moment, so hard.

But just holding her was enough, for now. Holding her, in his study, that was enough. Forbidden enough really, and he was just glad no one else would bother them. To enjoy this, without fear would insure it would stay in his mind even as he tried to figure out what else to do, what else to avoid with her so he did not harm her in some way.

While the morning would bring regrets (friendship, it was a friendship first, nothing more), he would not let it bother him. The mere act of it all was enough to be in his memory for all time, and he found himself swallowing hard at that question. We. How long had he been waiting for that?

"I must, admit Helen I am at something of a loss, do you happen to have any suggestions?" It was the truth and he sounded a little sheepish sounding at that. Lab work was out, he wanted something different, something out of the Sanctuary. Perhaps then, well perhaps he could dream of more with her with more evidence, more scenes of them together.

At least it would keep him going in the dark of the night when he was alone, if nothing else.

"A former colleague of my father's is holding a social gathering for those closest to him," Helen answered easily. "It's supposed to be for his daughter's marriage, but I know it will end up being a talk of science end medicine. I thought... if you didn't have anything else to attend, perhaps you would go with me."

She lifted her head momentarily so she could judge his reaction, trying to see what he thought about her suggestion. She didn't pull her hand away, though, preferring to leave it where it was, tucked in his own.

With luck, he would be free and willing to go with her. Even if they just stayed for an hour, it would be a public appearance and at least then no one would be able to call them fully reclusive. And it would also be a chance to spend some time together. That much Helen did want. She cared about James enough for that.

It takes him a moment, to think it through the emotions playing over his face. He wants it really, wants to go out with her, a public appearance would do them good. But what if they saw it? That lingering feeling he swore was on his face when she wasn't looking but he looked at her.

He tried to hide the uncertainty at that idea, but he didn't say it, instead turning to give her a smile, squeezing her hand.

He was free in fact so he squeezed her hand as he spoke, "I would be happy to Helen." It was light, and he was almost afraid the affection on his face would come across as something more. He cared for her yes, but she didn't need to know how far, spending time with her was enough. Even if it was somehow misinterpreted as something else. "Though do they know you are bringing a guest?" Always the polite one of course.

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