empathicfault | IC Inbox

Malcolm grins as Will sweeps past Miss Windsor’s rooms to look for the attic.

“Many things are ‘unbecoming’ for a perfect lady. One must be proper. Silent. Chaste. Well-mannered. A gracious hostess.”

The attic bedroom is both old-fashioned and… childlike. Fairy lights. China dolls. Soft pastel bedding. Lace doilies. On a table by the door is a telephone. Beside it, a list of names, including Ainsley Whitly. The victims’ names are crossed off.

Edited 2023-12-27 03:03 (UTC)

Will walks into the attic, takes one look at it, and laughs. He heads for the dolls, picking one up and inspecting the eyes. "I think we found our culprit," he says definitively. "But-"

He cuts himself off when he sees the list. He'd been half-looking for a diary, but Ainsley's name is easy to make out. "Your sister get out of this whole thing okay?" There's no way Ainsley wouldn't be involved- even if she was a more...human person than Freddie, she was still a journalist. No way would she pass up investigating something she already had connections to.

“Oh, she used herself as bait,” Malcolm tells him. “Pretended to pass out after pretending to drink the roofied tea and I found them in this very room where Miss Windsor’s secret illegitimate daughter was preparing her lethal dose while Ainsley was prone on the bed. Annnd then I had to stop Ainsley from stabbing her. And then we had to get out of here because Miss Windsor turned on all the gas lines and lit a match.”

Will chuckles in relief as he realizes Ainsley was just as quick a thinker as Malcolm was. His eyebrows climb as he hears 'secret illegitimate daughter'- that's a hell of a motive- and he laughs more bitterly at hearing about Miss Windsor. "What a petty wretch. Couldn't be there for her daughter, couldn't stand anyone else knowing that her house had been built on 'lies.' Like that wouldn't come out after her death."

He looks around at the room, smiling in the satisfaction of solving the puzzles. As his eyes meet Malcolm's, he grins. "Were you able to get out with no stabbing happening? Did you get the daughter out of here? What was the actual murder method, morphine?"

“It was a combination of rohypnol and the use of a debreather. The actual cause of death was asphyxiation rather than poisoning… sorry, ‘lethal dose’ was misleading. She would dose them more to make sure they were well out and then suffocate them ever so gently to death,” he explains.

"No, no. Just checking to see if I was right. Although I was picturing more of a pillow on a face than an actual debreather- that is gentle."

He's energized, almost giddy (well, as giddy as he gets) about finding this place. He turns over the idea of trying to stab this young woman in his mind- he doesn't think he'd fall to that immediately. There's clearly a child's mentality here. She was never allowed to 'debut,' to grow up like all those around her were. "Were there clues in the dollmaker's place, too? Might've led to the assistant too, I bet."

“She couldn’t risk any physical damage to the body,” Malcolm says, grinning just as giddily. “Not even the generally faint but very telltale signs of asphyxiation like the stippling around the mouth. The debreather left them… unmarred.”

At the question about the dollmaker, he smiles broadly again. “That was mostly a dead end, except we discovered that he made custom dolls for the school. Every girl that debuted received a perfect china doll made in their image. JT and Gil brought the dollmaker in as a suspect, but I talked to him for like a minute and I knew it wasn’t him. Wrong psychosexual problem. He’s an agalmatophiliac. You chose the right path to the correct suspect.”

He nods along with Malcolm's reasoning. Of course she couldn't risk damage to the body. They had to be perfect. The further explanation about the dollmaker has Will smiling very genuinely. He did pick the right path. Not that they wouldn't have gotten there otherwise, but he didn't make a mis-step.

"What this is telling me," he says, extremely pleased. "-is that we'd have a much easier time of it, if everyone just got out of our way."

Malcolm laughs. "Right? Or... listened to us ever. That would help too," he jokes. He pauses. Shifts his weight. "Um. I was wondering... if it's okay to give you your Christmas present today." He gestures around them. "Okay, I mean your other Christmas present!" he corrects, acknowledging the case was also a gift. "I know it's a little early, but I'm dying," he says, fidgeting.

Will laughs, too, and he's still chuckling as Malcolm mentions that he's dying. "Okay, okay. I'm sure you are. But first-" Will reaches out for Malcolm's hand and grabs it to pull the man into his arms. He gives Malcolm a short but gentle kiss. "Thank you for this. It's been...extremely satisfying."

That just makes him light right up. He completely forgets Christmas present urgency for the moment. Will is smiling. Happy, even. And he did that. He affected someone's happiness and improved it. When the kiss breaks, he doesn't draw away much, just studies Will's face with a pleased, almost awed expression on his own.

"I'm so glad you liked it," he says softly.

It just takes that smile on Malcolm's face for Will to resolve to use his words even more often around Malcolm. He has no end of gratitude for the man, and Malcolm deserves to know every bit of it.

He lets them just back in their mutual happiness for a few moments. Then he dips his head down and laughs again. "So I have something for you, too. Looks like neither of us could wait. But...you first."

Malcolm reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box, clutching it in his hand for a moment and taking a breath.

"Okay. I'm excited. But I'm nervous. But I'm excited," Malcolm tells him, grinning.

He holds the box out for him. It contains a ring; not completely dissimilar to the one he got Malcolm, but unique. More Will-like, Malcolm feels. Underneath it, there's a chain large enough to fit around a wolf's neck. Will would know how Malcolm carries his own ring when he changes. He watches Will's face once he takes it.

Will opens the box and- ...well. Now isn't that perfect. His eyes shine as reaches for it and rolls it under his fingers. "It's beautiful," he admits, holding it close to his eyes briefly before sliding it onto his left ring finger. "A little darker, but still..." He looks up to Malcolm, failing at hiding his smile. "A matched set."

Malcolm touches his knuckles, a sort of fidget as he explains “you said you see onyx for yourself, but gold was starting to peek through. And it’s stone and gold bonded to titanium. Practically indestructible,” he adds. He looks up at his face. “Because you’re made of tougher stuff.”

Will laughs again, but it's a quiet, surprised thing this time. It's even a little shy. "I...uh." His mind is a scatter of fireworks. He has to regroup. "I don't know how you manage to be so sweet, and yet so insightful. And so real. I love it. I love you."

He's not sure if he's made sense, even to himself. But he knows that last sentence did. His eyes are watery as he throws his arms around Malcolm's shoulders, tugging him close.

Will's words, his emotions, his happiness fill Malcolm up. He squeezes him back, holding on tight.

"I got you a chain, too, so you can keep it with you when you're a wolf."

"I saw it," he says, still grinning. "That's worked well for you, I'm sure it'll be great. Then, even as wolves, people are going to know." They'll probably be the only ones wearing things, after all.

He leans his head against Malcolm's and hugs him close, just breathing the scent of him in. But he does finally kiss the top of his head and a small wrapped present finds its way into one of Malcolm's hands. It's very obviously a pill bottle.

"Our roles are reversed," Will says, the smile plain in his voice. "I got you something practical, but- I think you'll like it. I hope so."

The bottle inside the wrapping has instructions like a prescription ('Take one before meal' and 'quantity: 30'). But the pills inside are an iridescent color and the label indicates that they're for the enjoyment of a full meal.

Malcolm reads the label, then looks up at Will with wide eyes.

“Does this mean… what it means?” he asks with a hint of hope breaking his voice a little. It seems too good to be true.

"They're magic pills," Will replies, only slightly deprecating. They really are, even if he sounds like a five-year-old saying it.

"They should let you enjoy whatever meal you eat after you take I've- no queasiness, no needing to worry about which foods might be okay or not. You can just enjoy yourself." Will smiles. "I wanted you to have the option before Christmas dinner."

Malcolm stares at them, then stares at Will, then stares at them, then stares at Will, then a stunned smile blooms belatedly, like it’s finally hit him and left him dazed.

“…I can eat Christmas dinner? Like… all of the dinner?”

"You can," he says, with a grin. He'd love to always put a smile like that on Malcolm's face.

"I don't even know what that's going to be like, but it sounds great!" Malcolm laughs. He throws his arms around Will's neck and hugs him tight. "Thank you."

Will hugs him back, eyes closing as he tilts his head back. This is perfect. "You're welcome. I look forward to seeing how it works out. I wasn't vague with my request, but...asking was kind of a whim. I figured there'd be caveats, but no."

He opens his eyes and sees his ring on his finger, snug like it's always belonged there. This isn't the first important ring he's worn. He suspects it'll be the last, though.

"What are you feeling for the rest of the afternoon?" Malcolm asks. "My cabin? Locked door? Dogs and books?"

IC Inbox

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject