A/N: Just a oneshot I wrote on a whim. enjoy.

Disclaimer:

I own NOTHING of Murdoch mysteries or Crabtree would be mine!

Murdoch POV:

I was a few minutes early coming to relieve George and Henry from their duties. They had been stationed outside a suspect's house for vigilance purposes. They had been working a lot of overtime these past two weeks, as had all of station four; turns out that, coincidently, the whole of station five had decided to take leave for that week, meaning that our station had to cover twice our regular area and the criminals were being less than sympathetic, an outburst in crime this week meant longer working hours and more paperwork! Inspector Brackenreid had been less than impressed – and that was putting it mildly! All week I had been forced to endure several rants and have lost the total of snide comments he had grumbled. The stress was getting to us all; tempers had become shorter, bags had begun to sneak under the staffs' eyes, more tea was being consumed in an attempt to keep us alert. I was no exception. My patience was wearing thin - I had to practically bite my tongue to stop myself snapping at George when he tried to divulge his latest theory and I was finding it more challenging to disguise my irritation as Brackenreid scoffed at the latest in forensic science.

The only person who still seemed in decent spirits was Julia Ogden. Although clear signs of exhaustion had worked their way into her fair features she still was able to reinforce her chirpy disposition. Something that I admired about her; no matter how terrible the situation she still managed to remain optimistic. However, there was something about her I just couldn't fathom, more maddening still every time I felt close to grasping the answer it would dissolve and I would be back at square one. It was like putting together a large jigsaw puzzle only to misplace the last piece that would make the picture clear.

I neared a small carriage and heard muffled voices from within. Curious, I crept up to the carriage and I could now clearly hear the voices and identified them as George Crabtree and Henry Higgins. They seemed to be having an animated discussion about women and relationships.

"I'd like a girl with a bit of spunk, don't take no nonsense but can still have a laugh. As for appearance redheaded, maybe, and green eyes, definitely green. Average build, perhaps. You?"

"Imaginative, real sense of adventure, witty and a good sense of humour, clever too. She'd have to be kind as well..."

"You don't want much, do you?" Snorted Higgins, sarcastically.

George ignored him and continued "Ideally, looks-wise, She'd have curly dark chestnut hair and predominantly blue eyes but with dual colour. As for build quite curvy, none of that corset rubbish!" I could practically see his face go dreamy as he described his dream girl.

"You're salivating." He sniggered.

"Am not!" George retorted indignantly.

I chuckled inwardly at their banter.

"The issue is how to tell if they're meant for you."

I listened more intently, as if my subconscious sensed a giveaway of vital information.

"My old Dad was once a real ladies' man in his youth and when I was young I asked him how he knew my mum was the right one to marry, he told me 'T'was easy Son, back in the day, when I met your mother she was the prettiest girl in the town to me, her voice was like music and her laughter touched my soul. When even the person's flaws seem endearing then that's the one you should pop the question to.' I never got sick of hearing that story." Higgins explained with an air of knowledge akin to a school boy telling his friends something about life that had been a mystery to them prior.

"Say if she had a habit of whistling out of tune, but you still thought it was kind of... attractive you should marry her." George concluded in wonder.

"Yep."

The bit about finding both someone's flaws and most flattering features appealing sounded familiar; frustratingly I could not place it.

"I heard that common interests can help too."

"That too." Agreed Henry

Another mindboggling clue.

"And they say that when you're near her your heart will open and you find it easier to cope."

They were on a roll with these confuddling hints.

"They say that she's the person for you when she's the one that you trust implicitly."

In that instant everything clicked into place as my world flipped upside down. My head swirled, the only coherent thought was "It's Julia; Julia's the one for me."

After the brief spell I realised the voices had fallen silent and that this was my cue to intervene. I rapped briefly on the door, which George promptly answered.

"Sir, you're a quarter of an hour early." George pointed out.

I then remembered my original purpose for coming here. "You've worked hard and you look tired, go home and get some rest."

"But Sir, it's not fair on you..." he tried to protest.

"By leaving you'll help me escape tedious paperwork." I wanted time to think. Higgins seemed to have bought it but George didn't seem convinced. After a small amount of time he sighed and decided to let it go. They departed, but not before George gave me an anxious glance. The boy was observant, with the correct training he would make an excellent scientist.

I sat for a while deciphering my own thoughts. The one thing that still baffled me was how I was going to go about telling Julia.

A/N: Like, dislike? drop me a reveiw and tell me. Constructive criticism accepted.

Vixter-twihard ;)