#Rose/Murph—you and Me We’re Goin’ Nowhere Slowly and We’re Gotta Get Away From the Past

[avictimofthejazz]

He's quite. Far too quite for her liking. Rose tenderly stretches out a hand to him. "Murphy?" She's called his name four times to no avail. "What's wrong. What's in the letter?" While she doesn't out rightly express it, she is concerned about him. (Maybe when he gets a letter about his brother or something?)

@timeguardians

Murphy’s eyes kept trailing over the printed words, as if re-reading them might magically make them change into something else. Unfortunately, it had not happened yet, and this was his twelfth attempt. His attention is so rapt he does not hear Rose calling his name, trying to pull his focus away from the letter in his hands. At long last, a movement the redhead makes catches the corner of his eye. His head moves, looking up at her slowly as he realizes he is still sitting in his living room. Rose’s concerned question finally registers in his mind, and he swallows.

“It’s…it’s about Conall.” He manages to name the brother who had died in Vietnam. Murph knows he has mentioned Conall a few times over the years, but only rarely and in a hushed tone. Every year the Michaels family goes to Arlington to visit his grave, but Rose has not yet penetrated the inner circle enough to make that pilgrimage. Perhaps this year… “He… he was killed on the border of Cambodia in 1970. But it appears he had a kid over there before he got shot…” Murph pauses to think, “Man… the kid must be a is a teenager by now.” He glances at the letter again. “When everything went to hell in 1975, and Saigon fell, his mom managed to get them out of there and made it to the States. They were sent to live in Louisiana. Only she’s sick… she doesn’t say what she has, but it sounds like it’s serious. She wants me to come pick up Quan so he doesn’t end up in the system if she winds up in the hospital.” Murph’s eyes re-focus on the paper. He will have to tell his parents. None of them had any idea Conall even had a girlfriend over there. He would bet even Pat did not know—he was too focused on his own missions and teams to worry about what Conall was doing on his off time.

Dropping the sheets of paper on the table, Murph rubs at his face before sinking deeper into his chair. “I’m going to have to go get the kid… but what am I going to tell mom and dad?”   

[avictimofthejazz]

@timeguardians (Rose)

In some odd way, Rose’s rapid response to the situation helps stabilize Murph. His own head has been spinning so much since he received the letter that he can no longer find his way upright. Her words provide him with a guiding light forward. Dropping his hands from his face, Murphy looks up at his girlfriend. For how wild and free-spirited Rose can be, she keeps proving herself to be a rock when he needs one. Her announcement that she is making the journey to Louisiana with him is stated with such certainty that he knows he should not bother arguing with her about it. She has already decided that she is going on the trip. Hence, she is going. “Yeah…” his mind rolls around the idea of having a nephew he has never met. He has always assumed he will have nephews and nieces someday… Patrick has Belle, and Ciara met that lawyer while she was doing her pastry training course in France. Even Elsie has a guy that she adamantly refuses to admit she likes, even though they all know she is smitten. But Conall… Conall has been dead and buried for over ten years now. To have a son of his come out of the woodwork feels like a ghost rising up from beyond the veil. They all know Conall had been wiped out of this world, surviving only in his siblings, and their families. The Michaels have learned to live with that. Now it seems he left a legacy after all… Rose’s mind leaps ahead to the trip in front of them, and he has to smile as her history as an heiress makes itself subtly apparent. She cannot fathom the idea of showing up at someone’s house without a gift. “Well, if he was born somewhere around 1970 or 1971, he’s probably thirteen or fourteen by now.” Murph points out. “He might be a bit old to be worrying about candy or toys. But we’ll figure something out on the road. It is over eighteen hundred miles to Louisiana from LA, after all.” Rose’s logical point brings Murph’s common sense back to the foreground, something he has been known to overlook when his emotions are running high. “You’re right—I need to confirm this before I do anything else. I’m sure a lot of Vietnamese women who got left with GI babies will just go through the logs of dead soldiers, and pick out a name to attach to their kid. She might have never met Conall in her life, but found his name on a list somewhere.” Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, grateful to turn his mind to a problem that resembles PI work more than an upheaval in his understanding of his family’s known members, Murph finds himself staring off into the middle ground. Confirming that this woman and Quan exist is going to be easy. Confirming that she actually knew Conall… well… that will be harder. “Of course,” he starts musing out loud, “Conall was pretty devote. I can’t imagine he would get a woman pregnant without at least being engaged to her. I wouldn’t put it past him to be married on the sly, actually. Figured he would just tell us when he brought them back home with him. That might be an angle I can investigate too.”

Looking up at Rose, his brows pull together slightly. “Are you really serious? About going to Louisiana with me? It’s going to be a long trip because I’m going to have to drive. It’ll probably take us about three days on the road just to get there.” A part of him will not blame Rose for backing out once she thinks about it. It is not going to be an enjoyable journey, and he has long suspected he is not the easiest man in the world to get along with for long. After all, most women who have known him for a bit end up leaving. The first time or two, he hoped it might be a fluke. By now though, he recognizes that he is the common denominator in the equation. He just has no wish to tire Rose out too, and prompt her to leave as well.

[avictimofthejazz]

Rose’s snort of amusement brings a grin to Murph’s face. The fact that Rose so casually mixes ladylike airs, with the behaviors of a kitchen maid only adds to her appeal in Murphy’s book. A woman who is all airs and graces quickly becomes untouchable, but a crass woman is unlikeable. Rose somehow manages to balance both types of personality, bringing out the better aspects of each while managing to avoid the ugliest pitfalls. It is a balancing act he is not sure the red head is even aware she is maintaining. All the better for him. If he mentions it, Rose will likely only become self-conscious, and try to lean too hard to one side or the other. It is better if she remains blissfully unaware of her effortless skill, and the way it captivates him. Everything about Rose enthralls him, though… and he cannot really afford to say anything. They are already playing a dangerous enough game without raising the stakes too high. “I’ll think of something.” He confidently states when she parrots his first word. Then he chuckles as she expands on what the imagined intruder might find. He scrunches his eyebrows together playfully. “Are you planning on leaving it on the floor for them to find?” Murph’s eyes hold hers for a moment before drifting down slightly as her clever fingers find his tie. Murph misses her stronger kiss by an instant, and does not realize that sitting down on the corner of the desk foils her plans notably. By the time he has settled himself, Rose has recovered and shifted her considerable attention to the unused bookshelves around them. His eyes travel over them, but settle on Rose again as she speaks. The very longing in her voice says far more than her mere words can convey. Rose has a passionate, curious mind that seeks out beauty in every nook and crevice of the world that she can find. Cal has no use for such pursuits though, nor does he see any value in a clever, witty wife. In his world, the only worthwhile pursuits are the ones that turn a profit for him, and a wife should only be delighted to look good on his arm, and produce a son when needed. Cal likely does not want children beyond his token heir, and possibly a spare. Having more than two additional mouths to feed and school might cut into his bottom line more than the steel tycoon likes. The only time Cal practices generosity is when he is trying to impress someone, or when he thinks it will earn him something else down the line. Otherwise, the man approaches the world with a closed fist, like a younger Ebenezer Scrooge… only Murph suspects it will take a lot more then chatting with a few ghosts to reform Cal.

He smiles back, more genuine then the weak, tired smile Rose offers him. “I think they lack the appeal of a profit. Money is the only thing Cal lives for. If the steel market ever goes bust, Cal’ll probably shoot himself.” Rose’s careful question about him reading the books catches him off guard. “Is that your way of asking if I can read?” he laughs to show her he is joking. Then he sobers. “I’ve given it a passing thought, but figured Cal would have Lovejoy cut my hand off for touching his books.” Of course, Murph’s hands have been all over something far more precious than a few dusty tomes… but Cal hardly needs to know that. He watches Rose retrieve one of the books, reaching out a hand to accept the book when she says she will hand it over, but does not take it as she lays out more terms. Instead, he tilts his head. “How about you tell me the terms first, and tell me what risk I’ll be running if I’m indebted to you?”

you know if someone came in here, they wouldn’t believe what they’d see. (rose to murphy)

@timeguardians (Rose)

Murph quirks an eyebrow at Rose, before an impish grin steals across his features and he leans closer to her. “Well then that’ll work out for us, won’t it? We’ll just convince them they’re hallucinating.” Of course, if anyone does catch them kissing in Cal’s study, it will take a lot more then claiming it is hallucination to get the couple off the hook. Cal took the train to DC that morning, intent on schmoozing with a few senators and Congressmen that he knew, but he blithely left Murph behind to make sure Rose stayed out of trouble. In Murph’s opinion, that is akin to letting the fox guard the henhouse, but who is he to complain if Cal makes his life easier for a few days? It is not like he owes that loser anything resembling loyalty.

Brushing his lips over the corner of Rose’s mouth, Murph settles against Cal’s desk and looks around. “Sheesh…” He finally whistles. “Does Cal actually read all these books, or are they just to hold down the shelves? I thought the only thing written word he followed was the stock pages.”