Yay! Thanks everyone for all of the support. Okay, I decided to introduce Stockwell. But he isn't going to be a baddie . . . Oh, and if anyone has any ideas or suggestions about the date mentioned at the end, feel free to let me know. I have a few ideas but outside input is always appreciated for things like this. And AlyshebaFan2 you are so responsible for my newfound love of Murdock in a suit.
Unclipping his Wings
As the extended group had piled into Chaosia's apartment, a silence had settled between the Rangers and Chaos . . . and Mikhail wasn't so dumb as not to notice. He was, however, very careful to not let on that he had. Chaos had her reasons for everything that she did. And while he might not always be as keen to her ideas as she'd like, he did at least try and be supportive. She had, after all, done pretty much the same for him plenty of times.
This Murdock guy kept looking at his sister in a way that he was not too happy about . . . but at least he was looking at her. And, in his observation of them as they finally started talking and joking along with the others, he treated her fairly well. No, scratch that. He treated Chaos better than any person he'd ever seen. Himself included. He would never admit it to either of them but he couldn't see anyone else better suited for his hare brained baby sister . . . and to think that their Pops had picked him out. Maybe the old man did know what he was doing after all . . .
Now as he and the others were getting ready to leave, full and happy with enough leftovers to feed them at least once the next day, Mikhail noticed the way that BA pulled Murdock to the side and spoke with him. He bit back his grin as Kip turned to look at him with a wink and grin before ushering Mirror out as quickly as possible. The two knew that whatever burden their newest addition was shouldering was heavy. And that he would talk to them in his own time . . . But if he wanted to confide in Chaos and Murdock then he wouldn't stand in the way.
He watched as the two men nodded, shaking hands before BA moved to follow Tumbler. And steal another biscuit from the plate the blond boost was trying his damnedest to keep out of the man's reach.
He shook his head, turning to hug Chaos as she rolled her eyes at Tumbler's squawk from the hallway.
"Hey BA! Man, Chaos gave those to me, damn it!"
She looked up to him as he tried to bite back his laughter, letting her shoulder some of his weight as he heard something heavy hit the hallway wall and another squawk.
"I swear that boy is going to be as big as a barn one day, mark my words. Didn't he get enough to eat already?"
Mikhail shrugged, squeezing her closer before dropping a kiss on her hair and stepping away.
"No clue, sis. Look, let me get these guys home and I'll see you later."
He turned to Murdock, smirking as he took the man's extended hand and shook. Hard. Hey, he couldn't be too lax or she would notice . . .
""Murdock, it was pleasure man. See you around."
Chaosia rolled her eyes for the millionth time that night as she pushed her bother out of her apartment. Why did her mother have to give birth to one of the most protective idiots in the world? Seriously?
As she shut the door, she slumped back against the cool wood and gave Murdock an apologetic smile as she shrugged.
"Sorry . . . they're a little excitable. So, wanna go see the color or do you want to wait until in the morning?"
Murdock shrugged, yawning mid-action and answering her question. He needed sleep.
She sighed, pushing away from the door.
"C'mon, cowboy. Let's get you to bed. I know you're probably beat, after meeting up with your ex and getting painted."
His glare was enough to make her laugh all the way down her hall.
Hours later, as he lay stretched out across her couch; Murdock had to wonder exactly what he was going to do about Chaosia. She was spinning his head around in circles, literally twisting his brain to the point that he didn't know what to do next.
Why in the hell had she kissed him earlier? And why hadn't he been able to stop thinking about it?
Every time he'd looked at her after he'd gotten out of the shower, he'd felt her lips brush against his skin all over again. And while that may sound sweet, romantic and completely sappy it was driving him bat shit crazy. Which was something he really didn't want to be again.
So, in his hours of contemplation, he'd come to the conclusion that the mudsucker was right. He liked Chaosia as more than a friend. Way more. But therein laid the problem.
What in the hell was he supposed to do now?
It would be some much simpler if he was anyone else. Face would step in, the epitome of walking sex and sweep her off her feet. He'd take her to some romantic restaurant, wine and dine her until she was nothing but a smoldering mess and then he'd move in for the kill. Hannibal would have every detail, no matter how ridiculous or minute, planned to perfection. He would probably even know what she'd wear before she did. And BA would . . . he shook his head, refusing to even try to imagine what BA would do on a date.
But what in the hell would he do if he liked a girl? Take her to group therapy? He snorted, rolling over. That would be pointless anyway . . . she was the last therapist he'd had.
He let out a frustrated sigh, turning to resituate his pillow before flopping back into his makeshift bed. He had to talk to Face. Tomorrow.
Good thing he was going with BA to meet them after he and Chaos had lunch with her dad.
He groaned, rolling and burying his face in the lumpy pillow. He was eating with her Dad tomorrow.
Great, just freaking great.
Chaosia walked out of the bedroom, tugging her shirt a little straighter before she looked up and felt her breath catch. Her Dad had sent over a wardrobe bag for Murdock this morning, with strict instructions for both of their attire since they were meeting (or re-meeting rather) Colonel Stockwell for lunch. And she had to admit it, she owed her Dad a hug.
The slim-fit dress shirt was tailored to fit Murdock's wiry frame, showcasing his trim waist and broad (for his body type anyway) shoulders, as well as defined arms. The pretty flint green color made his eyes seem even greener while the sleek charcoal gray wool and silk suit made his naturally fair complexion seem just a tad darker. He'd left the fitted blazer unbuttoned while they were in the apartment but she could still see the way the supple material fit snug at his waist. The only thing off were the dark gray Chuck Taylors on his feet . . . but for some reason they were so him that she couldn't see forcing him into the polished Italian leather loafers by the door.
She blinked, circling him as she took in the change of wardrobe. He fidgeted, tugging the cuff of his sleeve a little straighter. Finally, she nodded. He did look good like this . . . but she knew he was far more comfortable in his jeans and tee shirts . . . or cargoes and Hawaiian shirts.
She reached out, smoothing the shoulders of the jacket as he stood a bit straighter under her inspection.
"You look fine, HM. And you'll do fine."
He smiled at her nervously, running a hand through his now semi tame sandy hair.
"Thanks, Chaos. You think?"
She nodded, smoothing his lapel. His smile became genuine as he stepped a bit closer, looking her over the way she had him.
She knew she was blushing but she couldn't help it.
She knew her dress was a little odd but she'd bought it on a whim and now she finally had the excuse to wear it. Besides, she loved the way the dark navy silk looked against her summer tan. The fukuoka folds along the bodice had been expertly pleated and tucked into the thick waist band. The ponte-skirt that fell to just above her knees made the skirt just formal enough for what they were going to do without being too dressy and ostentatious. Coupled with her favorite coat with a pinch of plaid and flecks of gold throughout, not to mention the satin ribbon attached to the left lapel, dainty tortoiseshell buttons, she knew that she looked good.
He swallowed loudly, giving her another sweet but nervous smile.
"You look amazing, Chaosia. More so than usual . . . not to say you don't usually-I mean-"
She laughed, silencing him with a finger across his lips.
"I get it, Captain. So, on to lunch?"
He nodded, shooting ahead of her to get the door. She shook her head, chuckling to herself before following. But what made her almost die laughing was the look on his face when he noticed her shoes. Apparently, James HM Murdock was a leg man. And the navy crepe satin stiletto pumps (approximately 120mm high and Christian Louboutin to boot) were very much to his liking. She grinned, strutting past him with an exaggerated swagger on purpose. What gave the pumps the extra little something was the large satin two-tone bow on the back of the heel, pointed toe and a signature red sole.
As she passed him, she could have sworn she heard him mutter something in what sounded like Swahili but she didn't pry. She knew this was going to be hard on him, but Stockwell's approval was the only way he was getting his wings back. And if that meant that she would put up with some muttered Swahili (or any other language) then she would.
She just hoped that this wasn't going to be too hard on him . . . for both of their sakes.
Chaosia had led the way to what was apparently her and her father's favorite table in the Deja View room of the Sky Room restaurant and procured to menus before declaring that they were not going to wait for her father and Stockwell before ordering. Which is what led to the glass of white wine she was nursing and the Atlantic Salmon with sautéed spinach, saffron fingerling potatoes and citrus shallot confit cooling in front of her. Murdock sat beside her, watching her drink as they waited on her father and the Colonel. As it turned out, Chaosia had been justified in not waiting seeing as in fifteen mintues after their orders were placed they'd been called and told to start without them . . . But it was still something that hadn't really set well with him.
He'd never liked being in awkward social settings and having two very important people pop up half way through a meal was going to be awkward . . . But he'd done as she asked and ordered. And he had to say, his girl and her father had taste.
Expensive taste.
He was sure his own plate of the Shelton Farm Game Hen with long grain rice, toy box tomatoes covered with the white truffle sauce was more expensive than all of the clothes on both of their backs . . . But it wasn't going to stop him from savoring every damn bite. He'd been living on VA food for months and Face and B.A.'s cooking before that (mainly because they wouldn't let him cook after discovering his new secret sauce incidents) . . . and the five star meal was just what the doctor had ordered. Speaking of which . . .
"So ya'll know all of that stuff you wrote in the report Stockwell was given is complete hogwash, right? I mean, I might not've been in my complete right mind but I knew what going on. I even refused to be tried separately at the tribunal . . . "
Chaosia just took another drink of her wine, shrugging as she finally started eating her food. She closed her eyes, savoring the salmon before answering him.
"We know . . . and honestly, HM I don't care. They should've never put you back into any kind of combat . . . They're getting what they deserve. Besides, from everything my Dad's dug up and heard over the past few months you guys were set up. Those charges should've been dropped and the whole breaking out of jail bit should've been satisfied with the time you guys had served being wrongfully imprisoned."
She forked out another bite of the salmon, reaching across and dipping it in the excess white truffle sauce on his plate before plopping it in her mouth.
"They should have been taking care of their own . . . not nailing them to the cross. Besides . . . my Dad hates the CIA. Anyway he can fuck with them makes his week. And this really pissed off them and the DOD. So congratulations, you made his month."
Murdock shrugged, reaching across and spearing a saffron potato from her plate as the waiter came and refilled his sweet tea (which was so not sweet at all) and her wine glass. They ate in silence until a man taller than Hannibal walked up, decked in a dark charcoal suit and smiling as he dipped to kiss Chaosia's cheek. Even though he'd met her father, the man's very presence still had him on edge . . . The very distinct British lilt to his voice however, caught him off guard. The accent was strong today, not muted like it had been in his offices earlier in the week. As a matter of fact, it had been so slight that he almost hadn't caught it.
What was going on here?
"Sorry I'm late, Duckie. I swear that Sosa just kept calling to be a bother . . . if she thinks that harassing me will get me to re-nig then she's out of her bloody mind."
He turned, eyes the same color as Chaosia's taking in every detail and imperfection, making Murdock want to crawl under the table.
Another man joined them, this one coming a bit closer to his own height. His white hair was combed over and away from his face. Bright blue eyes shone out of weathered but otherwise youthful face with a severe intelligence that made Murdock pay closer attention. Because this guy was obviously going to study every little detail of their outing.
Chaosia, sensing his plight, smacked her father and the newcomer, hissing at him both of them.
"Daddy! Uncle Hunt! You both promised to behave. I would like to get him in the air again before you start trying to drive him insane."
She rolled her eyes as her father shrugged and laughed while her 'uncle' gave her an apologetic smile. Both sat, ordering the same plate Murdock himself had gotten and a pint of (surprisingly) beer to split between them. After the waiter was gone, she started the introductions.
"James HM Murdock, you've met my father. Edward Prometheus Guadimus. Daddy, you got to torture Murdock earlier this week so be nice or I swear I won't ever make the pie again."
"Yes, ma'am. Whatever keeps you baking and happy."
Her father had paled, nodding before liberating his alcohol from the waiter as Stockwell busted into a deep, rolling laugh and clapped Murdock on the shoulder.
"I'm Hunt Stockwell. I doubt you remember me from Saudi . . ."
Murdock nodded, facing the man that held his ability to rejoin the clouds in his hand. He did remember him . . . vaguely anyway.
"I do, sir. And I have to say, sorry about the whole trying to get you to puke thing but my CO put me up to it."
Stockwell chuckled, nodding as he took a drink of beer.
"I have no doubt about that, boy. Turner always did hate me because I didn't think he hung the moon and stars. No hard feelings. Besides, I rather enjoyed watching the bastard blow chunks all over Douglas. Even if it did end up on my best dress uniform."
Murdock couldn't help it, he laughed.
As the lunch went on, Murdock learned ta bit more about Chaosia's father and her godfather, Hunt Stockwell.
Guadimus, as he already knew, was an Englishman and a former Ambassador to the States. What he learned was that he currently was the CEO of a rather large conglomerate of businesses and a security advisor for the FBI. After Chaosia's mother passed away, he started splitting his time between Long Beach, Langley and London-all of which he owned houses in.
Murdock also learned that he and Stockewell were both trying to get his stubborn daughter to take up residence in the Long Beach home and she refused, keeping her tiny "shoebox" apartment in the complex close to downtown so she could be near her half-brother.
The same complex that he would officially be taking up residence in starting tonight.
He still couldn't believe, even sitting in the restaurant and eating a real meal that he was free. As free as he could be without being able to fly, anyway. And he'd been declared sane.
He knew somehow that it wouldn't last, it never did with his family, but it was nice to be so . . . normal. Even temporarily. So he decided to make the best of it and enjoy his company. He watched the three of them laugh and interact, cutting up and acting as crazy as his own family had in Texas before his grandparents had passed away and he'd been thrown to the sharks in the foster care system.
Chaosia's laughter carried throughout the now nearly deserted room as her father regaled them with stories of his one of his other oldest American friends, a taciturn general by the name of Douglas. The same Douglas that Murdock had tried to make airsick with Stockwell almost ten years before. Murdock laughed, remembering the other people in the chopper freaking out while the two older brass had just looked out the window and shrugged, not the least bit upset or scared. When they'd landed, the man had even shaken his head at his retching companions before carrying on like they hadn't been tossed all over the clouds.
And all of them had been covered in the breakfast special of the day.
Needless to say, Murdock had officially become one of Guadimus and Stockwell's favorite people . . . being Southern had only added points. Chaosia's own mother had come from an old Southern family, and the one to introduce the man and his best friend beside him years before either joined the service.
Which, while making for an interesting family and friend tree, actually accounted for the twinge of accent he could hear creep into Chaosia's voice now that she was relaxed and joking. The mix between the British proper and Southern drawl was unique . . . and probably the cutest damn thing he'd heard in years. Face would probably trip over himself to get Chaosia to drawl to him in true Southern Bell fashion . . .
He shook himself, forcing his mind away from them. He was out and he was free. And he had done it mostly on his own. And while he missed them something horrible, he wasn't going to think about them while he was here. Mainly because every time the thought crossed his mind, Chaosia's pretty eyes and sweet smile brought him right back to not really wanting to. Because going and seeing them before he had to at four meant having to leave her quicker. And he didn't want to leave her . . . not if she didn't want him to . . .
Her father standing brought his attention to the trio. Guadimus hugged Chaos as Murdock rose from his seat, making a point to shake Stockwell's hand before turning to Guadimus and taking the extended card. A card with three numbers scrawled across the back.
"If you need anything, boy-o, just call."
Chaos excused herself to the restroom and Guadimus took the opportunity to talk.
Stockwell shook his head, butting in before his friend could get too carried away. He pulled a small leather booklet from his coat, handing it to Murdock as he smirked. When he opened it though, he didn't know what to do. Inside was a smaller copy of his flying license and certifications. The personal copies pilots liked to keep in smaller planes and on hand just in case. He looked up at both of the grinning men, astounded at what he held in his hand.
This was it.
The final piece of his freedom was here.
He was really free.
"I'm fine with you having this back, son. I think, given the circumstances, that you should be able to put your head in the clouds. Just make sure to not make anybody puke. Congratulations my boy. You're Airborne again."
Guadimus rolled his eyes, continuing what he'd started like Stockwell had never spoken, though the look he was giving the truly unfazed man was humorous . . . and Murdock found himself suddenly wondering if this is what he and Face looked like to an outsider . . .
"I hope Chaosia's right . . . but I have a feeling that regardless of what her and Weaver have said, those boys at the CIA and DOD will still hassle you. So do yourself a favor and keep the card. And remember, if they so much as even think of touching you again . . . well, I can make them regret it. One way or another."
Murdock stood there, shocked at the cold quality the man's eyes had taken on. Stockwell just rolled his eyes and muttered on about the idiots in power and his friend's flare for the theatrical while Murdock had to remember to breathe. Even Hannibal and B.A. would've been scared shitless of this guy . . . and Stockwell acted completely nonplussed. Just who the hell were these two? Really?
Guadimus, however, seemed to catch himself and shrugged, continuing.
"Especially if you're going to be around my little girl as much as I think you are. I mean, you are practically neighbors now."
"Why are you so keen on that Sir? I kinda thought that you'd be pushin' me away from Chaos and you, not pullin' me in."
Guadimus laughed, pulling a cigarette case from his jacket and lighting a clove, purposefully ignoring the glaring Mater Dee. He winked, flicking his lighter closed before securing both back in his coat and enjoying his very illegal cigarette.
"Boy-o . . . my little girl is special. And not because she's mine or my only girl, though both are good enough reasons for her to be."
Stockwell gave Guadimus a deadpan look before he continued for him.
"What the great buffoon means is that Chaosia has a habit of collecting strays. Over the years, she's brought home all sorts of people . . . but they've all had one thing in common. They needed to be fixed. And she always insists on helping."
Guadimus nodded, taking a hard draw from the black cigarette before continuing as Stockwell signed for the check.
"You . . . you're something different, though. I don't know how yet but I know you're gonna be important to her. So . . . I've decided to let her run her course. Besides, stopping her is like trying to stop nature. It doesn't really happen. Plus, I like you, as well as one insane man can like another insane man, I suppose. Just be warned . . . you hurt her, or cause any harm to befall her, and I'll have you bagged tagged and back at the funny farm before you can blink. Got me?"
Murdock swallowed, nodding. Hell, this guy could make Pike piss himself. Thank God he was on his side . . . Guadimus nodded, smirking as Chaosia came into sight.
"Good. Now, we're off and you two have an apartment to go finish I wager. Just don't let her get out of control . . . on second thought, I'll call Khail and he can meet you there. Better to have her brother to wrangle her where decorating and furniture are involved. Just like her mother . . . beautiful as hell and crazy as bed bug. "
Murdock watched Chaosia turn a glare similar to the one her father had just worn back on the man as Stockwell laughed. He made a snap decision and stepped between them, placing a hand on Chaosia's shoulder to steady her.
"Actually, we're supposed to go and get clothes or something. Chaos has already made sure my new apartment is as set as it gets. She even introduced me to some of her and your son's friends . . . and made them paint the apartment."
Guadimus and Stockwell shared a look before erupting into peals of laughter, clutching each other as they tried to stay up right. Chaosia rolled her eyes, turning and dragging Murdock behind her. He hoped he'd done the right thing . . . but something told him he'd just stepped in it badly. He really did need to meet Face. He needed advice . . . and ideas on where and how to ask Chaosia on a date.
God in heaven help him . . .
Murdock's gotta a little crush! Its so cute . . . now to pick the perfect date for two crazy people . . .
