Forget What You Saw


minea_icon.gif murdoch_icon.gif

Scene Title Forget What You Saw
Synopsis A chance encounter could possibly put a wrench in the grinder. Possibly, thanks to Post-Cognition.
Date July 15, 2009

Street Corner in Little Italy.

She's just on the street. It's one of those bizzare random things. Someone you know, getting out of a taxi, leaning back in through the front passenger side to peel off a few bills, a bag of food in hand that's likely gone lukewarm by now. Tattoo's that Murdoch's never really seen before, the black hair loose and flying off in it's thousand directions. Someone who hasn't been answering cellphones, home phones and Homeland Security isn't relaying messages.

Minea isn't the only one not looking themselves. Murdoch, usually a fastidious man, has a two day growth of beard and a look in his eyes that suggests he may not be sleeping particularly well. A thin slate grey protects him from the cooling but by no means cold evening air. He's in his own world as he walks down the street, but the serendipitous appearance of Minea shocks him out of his revery. His double-take is classic, and he quickly calls out, "Minea?" then, louder, "Minea!" And he's jogging towards her.

She forgets, forgets to not answer to that name and turns. If it was Company, she'd be tranqed and on the ground the moment she turned. She nearly wishes she was when she see's Murdoch, an inward groan. Inward. Outward she adopts the confused look at seeing him. "Man your age should not be running looking like that" Minea answers back. She's acknowledged him and she can't take off without it being suspicious. "keep the change" something else is murmured in Russian to the driver before he drives off and Murdoch now gains her attention.

This brings a wry smile to Murdoch's face, restoring his usual persona somewhat, at least for a moment. "Murdochs are of hearty stock, my dear lady," he says, drawing up next to her, taking in her appearance with a concern that bleaches his smile, "And you're in no position, Ms. Dahl. Disappearances are rarely good for one's health." There's a somewhat peculiar inflection to his voice; he's already a bit archaic in his manner, but it's more pronounced. He sounds halfway to British.

healing scar at the temple that fades off to be hidden by hair, her multitude of tattoo's normally hidden up when on duty. Minea looks like she's natsy. "I've been undercover. It was a sudden thing. Didn't have time to call people" She explains. Lie Minea, lie lie lie.

What reason has he to disbelieve her? Still, his mouth quirks to one side. "But of course. When the security of the homeland is at stake…" he says, perhaps not vaguely enough, "Would that our leaders had the will to bear their intentions and plans openly. Better brazen than craven, I say." The older man offers his hand, "I insist that we get some coffee. I'm sure I look as bad as I'm also sure you feel. I won't pry into the matters of your… whatever it is you're doing. But we can't have crossed paths for no reason at all."

She shouldn't. Logic dictates she shouldn't, but she does. It's Murdoch. So she nods, switching the bag of chinese to one hand and taking his. "Coffee. I can spare five minutes for coffee"

The instant they touch, Murdoch tenses up. It wasn't intentional, the contact, though who knows if there wasn't some subconscious motive in the gesture. He's struck with memories, flooding him with the unique and strange sensation of 'recalling' something that never happened to you. His grip tightens, and then he yanks his hand back. "God… God, I'm sorry. I… I forgot," he steps back, away from Minea, as if he might accidentally take her hand again if he places himself within reach, "Minea, what in God's name have you been doing? I…" he stops himself, "I know I shouldn't have, but… Who was that boy?" A beating, but he didn't get a name. He wasn't holding on long enough.


Great job Minea, touch the post-cog. He's warned her before. Long before. she shouldn't have done that. She looks stung, and suddenly very nervous. "Vincent. You need to forget you saw that" There's no step taken away from the detective, but she's not reaching towards him. She knows who he's talking about. "Do you understand me?"

Murdoch lifts a hand to his head, as if he could somehow influence the absorbed memory by touch. "Why? Minea… I understand this is not something for me to know, but I can keep secrets. If not from myself, than at least from others. And… you cannot leave me like that. Elisabeth was there too, I remember it." His eyes narrow, "There is something afoot in this city."

"Liz was further back. And I can. For your protection, I can. If it helps, beating the snot out of Magnes did good. The kid is gonna be more aware now. Know that when someone tells you something, you don't not follow it because you don't believe it. That you follow orders" Her brown eyes are locked onto his, hanging there for a moment before she juts her head to the fairly quiet coffee shop. "Coffee. Before I let you touch me again. You look like shit"

Murdoch wrinkles his nose. "Why thank you, my silver tongued companion," he replies, dryly, but there's no protest. He moves with her to the shop, looking weirdly cold despite the relatively balmy weather, as if the pathetic fallacy is being fallacious just for him.

There's no silver tongue being used right now. Nope. Just her abandoning the half eaten food to a garbage can and pointing to a seat in the far corner that is sheltered from the rest of the coffee shop and from the windows. five minutes later she's approaching the section with two large cups, creams, sugars, stir sticks and taking a seat. There's a grim set to her lips. "You knpw this, if I tell you more, there's no going back"

Murdoch's expression is somewhat skeptical, "I feel as if I'm in a spy thriller," he remarks, "Then again, I suppose I might be," he peers into his coffee for a moment, scrying for the appropriate decision, "I… had accepted the end of my life, you know. When my wife died and I became incapacitated, I pretty much figured my time was up. I was living in an epilogue," he looks up at Minea, "After that… I don't really feel like I have anything to lose."

"he's an agent in training. It looks like they sent him to Academy to toughen him up and give him necessary training. I was training him before I had to hand his 'leash' so to speak to someone else. There was a memo out. Don't approach me, call in if they saw me, apprehend. He thinks i'm harmless. I beat him up, i didn't kill him. He needed to learn a lesson. If you saw Liz.. then you saw liz from weeks ago"

Murdoch listens, his haggard look abating somewhat, in part thanks to the coffee he's drinking, in part due to his engagement with the story being told, and in great part to the fact he's actually seeing Minea again. "Unless you feel touching palms again, Minea, you may have to be a little more precise. Agent for whom? HomSec? Which Academy?" he arches a brow, "Or is this the sort of thing that, if you told me, you'd have to kill me." Joke, right?

"Mind wipe. Likely. They don't tell to kill people. Vincent, I'm not playing pansy games here. There's… shit going down in this city, and you shouldn't have run into me" THere's a pause, her tongue tracing across her lips before her top teeth scrape across it. "Can you choose what you see? If you concentrate?"

Murdoch purses his lips. "I…" he begins, pauses, "I can try. But it often is a matter of… well, I won't call it luck. But I get pulled towards nexi. Emotional nexi in the grid of memory."

Her forefinger rubs on her lower lip, thinking, really thinking. In the end, she shakes her head. "No telling what you might see" It's been.. well, the emotional moments.. " I wouldn't sic a mindwipe on anyone. I've been through it. I'm still suffering side effects from it, from the reversal" Minea doesn't offer her hand. "The kid is fine. I just tapped his testicles. Got him down and took off. He'll learn his lesson, or someone else who's not got good intentions will kill him. But that's how it is"

Murdoch shakes his head, "This… ambiguity business. I thought I had it down, I though, well… at least I was on the side of something ideally universal. The Law," he fixes Minea with a stare, "This undercover bit. How long will it take? Will I see you again? I… well, I had honestly begun to think you might be gone forever," he scowls, "People seem to be disappearing more and more of late."

"Not so much undercover. You saw what I did to the kid. I don't know Vincent. You can't tell anyone you saw me. It's for you're own protection. Fuck, half the time i'm pretty sure there's a technopath looking over my shoulder, I know she pays attention to the phone I have. I'm walking on a wire. It's the price you pay for doing what I did"

"I am simply going to accept the gaps in your explanations with a nod and a grim smile," Murdoch says, "And assume it is for my own good. But Minea… you can only imagine how I must feel right now," his smile is crooked, "I've such a typical knight errant complex. And though I know you need no help from me, I am compelled to offer it all the same."

"I'm not an empath Vincent but.. But I can" Minea answers, still a grim line to her face "If I call. If I call don't answer the phone. Come here. To this coffee shop and wait for me. If things go to pot, go to shit, i'll need someone I trust to pull me out"

Murdoch gives a firm nod, "Very well," he hitches a smile to his features, "It's deranged. For your sake, I hope you're simply humoring me, and that things could never get so bad. For mine, though, the sake of my pride and my mad fantasies… I have this awful hope it may come to it," he lifts a hand, "God forbid, of course."

"I wish it was simple humoring. life would be easy if it was all simple humoring." She starts to drink from her coffee then. "Why do you look like the tail end of a bar crawl"

Murdoch tries very hard not to look evasive. "I'm… I'm working on a case. On my spare time as well. Which doesn't lead to long sleeps or restful nights," he pauses, then, "And I've been somewhat lax in taking my medication."

"get back on your medication Vincent. Last I want to hear is about Detective Murdoch suffering a breakdown and having to risk shit to come visit you in the hospital"

Murdoch scowls, more darkly than ever, "It's just that there must be /some detail/ that I'm missing. There must be something /I/ can remember, that /I've/ seen. Some indication /something/," he presses a finger to his temple, "In here."
"Medication makes it harder to get the detail?" Minea inquires.

"It creates a barrier I have to overcome," Murdoch says, "Which is why I can normally shake hands without plundering peoples' minds. And, just as importantly, it stops me from falling into myself. But now… if there is something I've missed inside me, I need to find it."

"Double edged sword" Minea murmurs. "I don't have the resources to help you, right here, right now" There's a sigh as she runs her hand through her hair.

"Fie!" Murdoch exclaims, "Don't worry about /me/. Tend to yourself. Take /care/ of yourself. And make sure that when we next meet it's because you're back out in the open, not because you're in dire need of aid from me."

"Always in dire need of aid from someone" She gulps at the coffee, putting the cup down. "Get sleep at least. Shave. Get a haircut. A relaxed mind, is better recptive. Get a massage, make em wear gloves with oil so you don't have an episode. I'd say get drunk but, that might not be the wisest" Minea stands up, shaking her head. "You can't do shit to find the clue Vincent if your unable to process it or tell someone cause your in a bad off state"

Murdoch stands up as well, his coffee in hand. He takes in Minea's words. "Only if you promise to stay alive and relatively intact. I shall be extremely cross with you if you end up dead, and we shall have /words/." His eyes are already reddish… but there is a slight glint there. Moisture? "It has done me no end of good seeing you."
"God willing Vincent. God willing" There's no parting gesture, kiss, shake of hands. Just the fugitive agent turning, giving him her back - not out of insult - and heading out the door.

The lone coffee cup she drank from on the table in front of him.

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