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

Yes just James, friend, colleague, fellow member of The Five, hobby Latin speaker. Scientist, detective, doctor, part-time inventor. And of course, a bachelor. And according to most a perfect gentleman (because he did try). So then, why was Helen not the least bit concerned about how she was behaving with him? The only benefit to all of this was at least Gregory was out of the country so James was willing to indulge, for the moment, even if he was ready to regret this in the morning.

"Perhaps not, I thought, perhaps someone had caught your eye was all."

Again true enough, who was he to know what went on in her mind? But the two of them? That suited him just fine really.

And it was exactly why he didn't fight her resting on his shoulder, slipping his arm back around her shoulders at that act. It was complicated that one thing, but he was willing to live with it, if she was willing to as well. Because did he ever want this, whatever it was. At least it gave him hope, however confused it may also have made him.

"What time are we to leave?"

Part of the reason Helen even dared such an act at all was because she considered James to be a perfect gentleman. He wouldn't force her hand, would rather give her the time she needed, and she couldn't express how much that meant to her. Even so, when he commented on someone catching her eye, she opened her mouth to answer, to tell him that someone had caught her eye, but stopped. Time. Time was what she needed. If she went too fast with this, she feared ruining everything she had with him. If that happened, she didn't know what she'd do. So, instead, she lied, keeping her gaze on their joined hands.

"No. No one has."

A big lie, but one she hoped he wouldn't see through. She didn't want to hurt him, for him to see through her and imagine the worst. So she squeezed his hand in reassurance and comfort, hoping to distract them both.

"Five o'clock, if it suits you. We don't have to stay very long. Once we've spoken to the host and his daughter, we can return home." She would let James decide how much he felt like dealing with, how long they stayed. Helen would be content just to be with him. Time, in this sense, didn't matter at all to her.

No he wouldn't force her hand, and he would give her all the time she needed. It was why he hadn't said a word really, why he kept his thoughts to himself. But being a perfect gentleman had it's drawbacks, especially for a man like James whose emotions were hidden under only the best control he could muster on that day. And how this day was trying him! Especially with that lie, it almost felt like a punch in the gut. Almost. Except he had to remind himself that she didn't know so how could she tell him that?

"I see."

He did however duck his head down, shoulders slumped even as he looked at their hands. The distraction wasn't working for him, but he hoped it was for her, one of them deserved to be happy at this time.

"And no, if you wish to stay longer than we can, there is hardly any rush," he cleared his throat as he talked, finding it easier to talk about than their previous topic. As much as he battled his emotions, he wanted her happy there, time had little meaning to him so long as he was with her. That was the truth.

Something still wasn't right. Helen could feel the tension through his shoulders and lifted her head from its resting place a second time. Had he seen through her lie? Had he figured out she was lying to him? Maybe. Whatever was going through his mind, she had to fix it. She could tell him and still ask for time. Maybe that would be best.

She sighed, trying to decide if she wanted to force him to look at her or place her head back on his shoulder. Either way, her gaze was on his cheek for a moment before it dropped back to their joined hands. Part of her wanted to stand up, to take the space of the room to give herself comfort and strength to say what she needed to say, but another part of her didn't want him to think she was pulling away from him, that she didn't want to be there with him. His comfort had been doing a great deal for her and she didn't want to lose that. So, she stayed there, taking a deep breath so she could continue.

"Perhaps I wasn't being entirely truthful."

No he hadn't seen through her lie, in fact he was assuming it was right. It being right meant, well, it meant things. It meant he had been wrong, all of his emotions were all over the place, and the worst part about being wrong, was the fact that he stood no chance. If she had no feelings for him, no one of interest, it meant he was horribly far off base with her, in terms of what this all meant. That it meant they were just friends and he had to adjust accordingly, that any hope he may have had for something else was gone.

So he just kept her close, ignoring her head off his shoulder. If he could just, pretend this was innocent, just them comforting one another nothing more, than it would be for the best. His mind hadn't remained pure in that regard, but perhaps this was for the best. At least things, for her at least, were out in the open and he could live with it, but it would just take time. "You owe me no explanation Helen."

It was true she did not and he squeezed her shoulders some as he went on, "You do not have an interest in anyone, there is no need to fabricate one now on my account." And yes the pain had crept into his voice, the sadness, but he didn't continue on.

And suddenly, there it was. In the blink of an eye, she understood. The way he'd been acting, the tone of his voice, his word choice. Everything made sense now. Her eyes widened in surprise... and annoyance at herself. How could she have missed all of the signs? How could she have done this to him? Even if she wasn't sure she could handle another relationship soon soon, especially after John had threatened her so recently, but for James she would try.

"Dear God, James," she whispered, her hands tightening over his as she shook her head. "No. You're wrong. I don't have to fabricate an interest in anyone because..." She paused for breath, steadying herself as she looked into his eyes, bearing her true feelings for him to see. "Because it's already there."

If he couldn't see her feelings in her eyes, then he must have lost his detective skills. She was allowing herself to open up, to be painfully obvious, more so as she lifted her hands to cup his cheeks.

"I was afraid to tell you," she continued honestly, laying the full scope of things out for him. "I didn't know if I could handle another one so soon."

But if this distance thing was eating them both up inside, and after how much time they'd spent together... really, it made no sense, logically. She was taking a big risk and now it was up to James to tell her how he really felt, to be truthful with her. Honesty was all they had.

He had been keeping it under lock and key, or been trying too. It was little surprise to him that she hadn't noticed it, after all part of being a detective meant learning how to act, and keeping his emotions off of his face was a thing he was rather good at, all things considered. But the little signs they had been harder, and he was honestly surprised it had taken her this long to figure it all out.

So he had just resigned himself to being jealous of who ever she was interested in (it couldn't be him right?). But then she said that, and he was rather surprised by that. Because he could swear she had just, said it was, him.

And that couldn't be right, it just couldn't, those feelings couldn't be about him. Because he wasn't John, and really it was obvious and she needed to heal and...

Well now he couldn't focus. Instead he closed his eyes for a moment to recover as she cupped his cheeks, breathing slowly before opening his eyes again. He was letting it show now, the depth of his honesty as he started to talk, and he slipped his arm off of her to rest on her hand on his cheek.

"I know," he said softly, smiling slightly, "which is why I didn't say anything." And he took a breath before going on, "Take your time, Helen, I'll be here."

He had to say it, no matter how much the distance was bothering them both. She needed the time and he needed to say it, needed her to know he was willing to wait. It was all he could do, and he hoped she understood that.

She understood and the grateful look on her face said as much. Now that she knew how he felt about her - she could read every scrap of it in his eyes - she wanted to show him that she was willing, wanted to declare... something, her feelings for him perhaps. The times dictated a certain level of propriety, though, and if she were to break it even further than she already had... well, she didn't like to think of what the neighbors might say if they found out.

"Thank you, Darling," she whispered without even thinking about it, offering him a smile tinged with grateful tears. The water didn't fall from her eyes, simply hanging by the edges. She squeezed her eyes shut, holding herself together for just a moment before she returned her head to its favored position on his shoulder. It was as close as they could be right now and that was all right with Helen.

"I never meant to hurt you..." And yet she had. She had hurt him so much in her ignorance. "John was here a few days ago."

She wasn't entirely sure why she let that slip. Maybe it was because she was desperate to keep talking, to be honest with him and show him why she'd been so hesitant lately to show her affection for him. A part of her wanted to make it up to him and saw no other way to do so.

For that he was grateful as speaking his emotions had always been a difficult thing for him. But he wasn't going to pressure her, it did him little good to do that, to confess something right then, not when she obviously had issues. And also the neighbors yes, they would have a field day with anything more than what they were doing.

"It is no trouble at all," and it was true he would forever do what he could for her, even keeping this quiet to protect her in regards to his feelings. So he just looked away at her composing herself, giving her time before he settled his head gently on top of hers. It was fine by him, just having this, whatever it was with her. He could live with that, even if they weren't together, because at least she knew his feelings.

"I know," and while it had hurt, her ignorance at least he could live with it. "What did he want?" It was a little sharper, a little more protective now, which was only natural really all things considered.

He already knew of course, the Helen from the future had told him that, had allowed him to figure things out but to hear her say it. Well now he would worry, and fret really. But it did explain why she was hesitant about things.

"Nothing good," Helen admitted in response to the question about John. She had no idea that James already knew. She thought she'd been the only one to know that he'd been there, even though his voice had been able to carry down the hallway with ease. There was more to it, really, John's jealousy, but she wasn't sure she wanted to explain that. Especially not now when she and James were just starting to get their footing, figuring out where exactly they stood. She didn't want John to ruin that any more than he already had.

She pressed a little closer and reached her hand to take his, resting between them.

"I've tried to forget about it." That occurrence was also why she'd come to James for comfort. Only he understood why John's presence would upset her so much. She was just lucky John hadn't actually sliced his blade into her throat, even just enough to leave a scar. That would elicit ugly questions that she didn't want to deal with. "He's obsessed, James. Obsessed!" And she didn't quite know what to do about it.

No she didn't know, he had kept quiet about that. About future Helen and what had gone on with Worth, that was his secret to carry. Hopefully soon the one Helen would be gone, busy with her life, so he wouldn't have to worry too much (he would always worry but that was who he was). So now his concern was on his Helen, and he didn't need to tell her that he could guess why she hadn't mentioned John.

But he did happily take her hand, sitting there and just enjoying it all.

"I know," that was an obvious thing. Why she had come to see him, now was obvious as well and he just pulled her close. He was worried even more now, and he resisted the urge to kiss her head as it was on his shoulder, instead tilting his head so his lips were pressed against her head in his small sign of caring, without actually kissing her in some fashion. "I know he is, but it is who he is."

John was a hard subject for her on a good day, but then days, weeks, like this had happened and John's presence, his obsession with her made everything that much worse. She really was so very fortunate that she had James here, not just to protect her as a lady, but also to comfort her when things got to be too much. Like now. Now was definitely one of those times.

She almost wished he had gone ahead and kissed her head. It would have helped things somehow, to know and feel that someone cared about her enough to comfort her like that. She already did know for the most part and feeling his arm around her, holding her up against him, helped as well. She appreciated everything he'd done for her already and wished she could do something for him in return, to show him how much she cared.

She also wished John would leave her alone, but that was just asking to have her hopes dashed. He never would and the sooner she accepted that and moved on, the better. James was her way to move on, her path forward.

"It's getting late."

Her subject change would be obvious and, honestly, she wasn't sure what her point for bringing up John and then dropping him again was, but she'd done it. Even though she was right and it was getting late, she made no move to get up, not wanting to let go of her security just yet.

Yes it did, and James knew it. In fact he knew it very well, what she was going through, had been there before when it happened with her. So he was more than willing to let her be comforted by him, defend her as a lady. The fact that she needed it now was all the more reason for their closeness, after everything he could imagine she would need it.

Well if he had thought that, somehow, she would be receptive to it he would. Knowing it was important to her, it would make all the difference in the world, even if his holding her, talking to her as he did wasn't enough. He was trying to not be too unsure, hesitant as he was to have his heart broken, which was part of his reluctance. A nagging fear that John would come back and somehow take her away was there too, and he was guarding against it.

"I know it is."

Casual observation really of the time, and he could guess what the reason was for her dropping it. But he didn't move, well not away from her. Instead he just pulled her closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her head, a little hesitant in the act. "Though I do believe, darling, I am not willing to move."

It was true he didn't, but he also didn't want to let go of her. Which was the major part of it really.

John might come back - there was always a chance of that - but Helen would never go with him again. She'd had enough of that heartache the first time. This time only solidified that fact. So if she'd known of James's thoughts, she would have been quick to reassure him. He was the one important to her now; John's chance had been and gone. Helen didn't like to think of that, after all, so she turned her attention back to James.

"Neither am I," she admitted softly, a smile spreading across her face as he kissed her head. She didn't move, not wanting to make him think that she didn't want it. For she did. It was a nice touch to the evening, comforting in its sincerity, and much better than the knife she'd had pressed to her throat not that long ago.

"I think I could fall asleep like this." And she'd be perfectly happy, to be honest. "But then it might be a little uncomfortable for you, I'm afraid." It would be uncomfortable for her to sleep like this, but she didn't much care. Right now, it was about the two of them, enjoying their time together, being comforted by each other. That was what mattered.

If he knew that than perhaps he would have changed his mind on things. But as it was, he just let her do as she liked. He would let her choose how to handle those situations and just be waiting for her answer, he was terribly patient at least, a good trait for such a situation.

And he just was glad she was happy with this, with all of this, he wasn't moving any time soon. "I could as well, and it wouldn't be so terrible." Because at least they would be together and that was all he wanted really. Her with him. It was the closest they would get, this for a long time to anything more intimate.

"Besides it is hardly like it is inappropriate." Well it was but not terribly so, and he would take any berating for this. He wanted this, almost needed this, really to show he cared.

"Half of England would talk about us, you know," Helen reminded him with a soft laugh. "The great Gregory Magnus' daughter asleep with brilliant mind James Watson. The scandal my father would return home to would be unimaginable!"

And yet she was talking about it like it was a science experiment. Of course, if their relationship were an actual science experiment, she would have just gone for it. It would be so much easier that way. More facts, less emotion, and far fewer people talking about them.

Her hand squeezed gently over his, as much to reassure them both as to tell him she was teasing.

"It's not like they don't already," He said with a grin in return, finding the topic perfectly alright. This was something he had thought about it anyway. "Though I dare say your father would be the worst of the lot."

And like her he was also handling this as a science experiment. If it were a actual experiment, this would be so easier. Less emotions, less hang ups there, just having her.

But he knew she was teasing, and he squeezed her hand in turn, smiling. "Though I dare think it would be worth it to have you at my side, Helen." That was heartfelt, and he squeezed her hand again. It was his way of saying how much he did care for her.

"He might never forgive us for that," she agreed, holding him close, even as he returned the squeeze to her hand. Every little thing he said now, every move, gave her more insight into his feelings for her. How could she have been so blind for so long? She didn't understand how she could have missed it, even if he was good at keeping his emotions to himself.

If they didn't have social issues to worry about, she would be tempted to kiss him. But propriety demanded that she ignore that urge. So she settled for simply readjusting her head's position on his shoulder.

"You'll have that, if you want it," she murmured, letting her eyes slide shut for a moment. She would be at his side for as long as he would let her, no matter the status of their relationship. Perhaps in due time they could be more than friends, once she was ready.

"No he may not, but you would know better than I," and yes every little thing he said and did had something to show he cared. He had tried to keep it just to the small things, so as to not look too desperate but now, now he wasn't going to hide it at all. She deserved to see it whenever he could show it really.

He would be tempted to kiss her for the same reason, and he waited not too. Because of propriety, because of certain expectations. So he settled his head back on hers, rather enjoying her being so close like she was.

"I do," he replied, smiling at the words. No matter what they were, how they were together, they would be together. Friends or more, he just wanted her at his side or him at her side, because he honestly could not see things any other way.

Nor could she at this point, but she wasn't quite sure how to say that without it coming out badly considering what she'd said earlier about needing time. She subconsciously lifted a hand to her neck, placing her fingers against her pulse point, where she could almost still feel John's knife blade pressing against her skin. An involuntary shudder stole its way down her back and she held James closer, suddenly needing his comforting presence again.

And even though he'd told her not to earlier, she couldn't help tacking on, "Thank you, darling." She couldn't even begin to describe and explain how much this meant to her, what James meant to her now. Indeed, she was afraid to even try, afraid that words would do the emotions bouncing between them any justice at all. So she remained otherwise silent, gently running her thumb across the back of his hand.

She would never give this up. Not willingly.

"If I do fall asleep, will you at least have the decency to wake me before dawn?"

He noticed her shift her hand up and he frowned, reaching over to rub that spot gently. He didn't like that shudder, how it made her press against him, and he found himself kissing her head again, trying to comfort her. He didn't like this, didn't like her needing comfort from such a thing really. It wasn't like her, but at the same time he supposed it was.

And even though he had told her not to thank him he had to smile at it, nodding. "No trouble at all, darling, no trouble at all." He smiled at her though, kissing her head again. He wouldn't go on about what he felt, it would feel odd to try and explain his feelings for her in words. Instead his actions would speak it, and he just smiled at her thumb, rather enjoying the feeling anyway.

"If I am awake then I will." And he meant it.

Needing comfort like this may not have been like her, but neither was getting a knife pressed to her throat. No, she much preferred a relationship like this, where there were no guns or knives involved. Just the two of them and a few sensual touches and kisses. And kind words. She could live with this, wherever it went.

That was why she resettled against him and allowed her eyes to slide shut. She could live with this, all of it, if it meant being close to James. He was such a gentleman to her and even though she was quite the independent woman, she loved it. Perhaps even loved him. She'd entertain the idea in the morning, after she'd slept. For now she was content to exist like this with him and only him.

James could live with it as well, where it stood. The few touches and kisses they could have while they were alone was enough, even if they didn't go beyond that really. Which was why he was happy for her to sleep on him, to think about his thoughts. In fact he slept with her, rather enjoying the comfort of someone next to him as he did sleep. Because that made his night, really, all the more comfortable (and also explained why he had overslept, by accident, and didn't wake Helen up in time for her to leave at dawn).

But he had made sure to be ready in time to go to their party, and while he wasn't really a stand out when it came to his clothing, he at least looked presentable when they arrived. And their chat the night before, well, he was actually looking much happier, much more relaxed than he would have before with her. Because at least she knew his feelings, and so he didn't avoid the small looks, the touches, things he had been wanting to do but couldn't as he wanted to hide it. Hadn't stopped all day really and arriving at the party, well, he doubted would stop that. Which was why he hadn't really left her side when they arrived.

Neither of them were awake before dawn, but it seemed that they were left well enough alone all night anyway. The only thing Helen could really complain about with regard to the situation was that it gave her a slight crick in her neck. Of course, as far as she was concerned, that was a small price to pay for the comfort of being near James for so long. She managed to pry herself away from him early enough to escape before anyone saw - or so she hoped - and she made her way back to her room to prepare for the day.

She wore her blue suit dress for the evening, pinning up her blonde hair so as not to appear suggestive in any manner. She was almost fifty, after all. Ancient by the standards of the age. Even so, age wouldn't deny her social expectations, much as she wished it would.

Once she was ready, she sought James out, allowing him to escort her all the way to the party. She held onto his arm as long as she could, allowing his touches, his looks, as she had all day. It was strange to think of how much had changed in such a short amount of time, but she didn't mind at all. In return, she offered him little smiles, looks she hadn't given him previously, and leaned into his touches as she let him guide her inside.

The first people they ran into were other guests, who greeted them happily, glad they both could make it. A few of them even glanced shrewdly from Helen to James and back. Helen knew someone would figure it out at some point, but wasn't entirely sure she minded. Perhaps she wasn't giving herself enough credit. Perhaps she was ready for this. She stole a glance at James to see how he was doing.

James could complain as well about the slight knot in his back from sitting there all night but it was the better price to pay for having her around him all night. Though he had frowned when she had pried herself away, he had grown rather attached to her being there with him all night.

And did he ever want to show her more as they went to the party. The looks, the smiles, they gave him life, a hope really that things would work out well, that he would get to have perhaps more, later. Eventually really. But a day changed so much, especially when it was such a big change really.

And he had noticed the glances, like she had. Perhaps it was because of his observational skills or because they were just that obvious. But he was doing alright with her, and he had to smile, when she glanced at him, gesturing almost as if she wanted him with her right then or if he was alright there, in the group of people around him, and her with her group.

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