#237 - It's your birthday! If anything were possible, what would be your perfect way to celebrate?
[ooc: I'm a little behind on Tammy things at the moment, but I've seen it all so far and I. am. floored. And Murphy's definitely got a few things to say about winning "Kinkiest Freak". How did that even happen? We both smell a conspiracy! :P Congrats to all of you, since plenty of you are walking away with these these things, and thank you forever! I'll be sure to do a real thank you post once it's all over. \m/]
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Everyone in the bullpen can hear what sounds like the familiar melody from "Happy Birthday to You", but no one's able to pinpoint its location. It's growing louder every second, but when they all look around at each other, they see nothing but sealed lips. Their puzzlement increases with the song's volume, but once the elevator dings and opens its doors, everything's made pretty clear.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR MURPHYYYY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEEEEE!"
She stands there with her arms spread out like she's waiting for somebody to come over and hug her, and she's grinning broadly. She couldn't be happier if you paid her. Well, that's not true; a little cash wouldn't be the worst thing you could give her.
Nevertheless, no one in the room is too impressed. Sporting blank expressions, they wearily mutter some "happy birthday"s back to her as they return their focus to their work.
"What?" Murphy asks, no longer amused as her arms drop to her side. "So I'm giving you one more reminder that it's my birthday. It's not like I talked about it that much before."
The outcry is a little louder this time. Everyone's words are fairly indistinguishable, but someone's able to make a "only for the past month and a half!" clearly heard.
"Okay, okay," she surrenders as she makes her way to her office. "So sue me for being a little excited."
She's so distracted by the lack of enthusiasm for her birthday that she walks right by her secretary's desk without noticing her secretary.
"Oh! Ms. Brown!" the woman calls, her long, blond and curly hair bouncing as she leaps out of her chair. Murphy turns toward her and is a little taken aback by what she sees; the woman looks like she belongs in Hollywood. Her eyes are a deep, beautiful blue and they sparkle brilliantly. Her body is slender and perfect, with curves in all the right places, and Murphy's sure it must've already turned Frank's head. And the smile... if this woman didn't look so genuinely pleasant and friendly, it might've been a little creepy. Murphy slowly extends her hand to the glowing person in front of her, hypnotized by her golden perfection.
"It's so nice to finally meet you," the woman tells her as she takes her hand and shakes it. "I'm Bethany Jones, and I'm your new secretary. I know you must be wondering if I'm cut out for this job, but I assure you, I am: I've located and sorted all of the reports that you needed for today, I've taken all your messages and arranged them in a neat little pile in the center of your desk, and I noticed that the light bulb in your lamp had burned out, so I went ahead and changed it. Oh, and I also fed your fish; they're such friendly little things!"
Murphy doesn't immediately realize that her mouth is hanging open.
"You... you did all that?" she asks, her suspicion growing exponentially. There's a catch here, she thinks. There's always a catch, there's always a catch... she's a serial killer, her family's nuts and they're using her to stalk me, she's got a weird obsession with golf balls...
"Of course!" Bethany cheerily exclaims, folding her hands in front of her and smiling. "That's my job, isn't it?"
"Uh-huh... yeah, it is, and I'm..." Murphy pauses and looks Bethany up and down. Nothing about her seems out of the ordinary, and her clothes are totally free of wrinkles and dust. "Where did you say you were from again?"
"Oh, I didn't," Bethany replies. "But I grew up right here in D.C., so any time you need directions somewhere, I'm sure I could come up with something." She cocks her head to the side and smiles her perfect smile again.
Murphy wants to distrust her, she wants that a lot, but it just isn't happening. She can only stand there and gape at the person who might really be... who might really be... no, she can't say it. That would jinx it.
"Well, um," Bethany says, "I don't want to be rude, but I honestly..."
Oh, God, here it comes, Murphy thinks. She braces for the worst.
"...have to get back to work! You're a very busy woman; there's a lot I have to do for you! I should probably get to work on dinner reservations at some point, seeing as how it's your birthday and all, right?"
Her mouth is hanging open again.
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, that'd be... that'd be nice," Murphy says, reaching out for the doorknob to her office as she continues to be entranced by Bethany. Bethany, on the other hand, simply smiles and returns to her seat, and immediately sets about sorting through the papers on the desk.
After a few more moments, Murphy's finally able to shake her head and open the door, and as soon as she does, she's greeted with a loud, "SURPRISE!". Jim, Corky and Miles are all there, wearing party hats and grinning and popping a few party poppers.
"Oh, you guys!" Murphy exclaims happily. She doesn't waste any time getting right to the point, though. "Who's got presents for me?"
The party hat-clad trio smiles at each other; they knew she'd jump right to the free stuff.
"I've got a present for you!" Corky steps forward holding a little box with a pink bow on it. "I made you some cookies..." Her smile disappears suddenly, and she looks very serious as she whispers, "...to help you get your mind off your going another year over the hill."
"Gee..." Murphy forces a smile. "Thanks. Now how about the rest of you; where are my presents?"
It's then that she notices that there are only four people standing in her office when there should definitely be five. "And where's Frank?"
Miles brings a black walkie-talkie out from behind his back and grins like a little boy in a toy store. He immediately brings the device to his mouth and speaks into it. "This is Big Eagle calling The Stallion. The operation is a go, Stallion. Over!" Chuckling excitedly, he waits for a response, and grins even more when he hears static.
"Uh, Miles..." The voice on the other end is definitely Frank's. "I thought we decided we weren't going to use the nicknames."
"Oh." Miles' smile vanishes, and his cheeks grow slightly pink. "We did?"
"Yeah," Frank's static-laden voice replies. "Anyway, I'm bringing her up now, so make sure Murphy's ready."
"Ooh, ready?" Murphy asks, her eyes brightening with what some might've classified as blatant greed. "Ready for what? Oh, wait, was my present the secretary? Because I have to tell you, she seems incredible and even though I don't want to jinx it, I think she might really be The One and-"
Jim comes forward and puts a hand on Murphy's shoulder. Even he looks pretty giddy. "No, no, it's not the secretary. You'd better brace yourself for this one, Slugger. It's good."
All four of them turn and look at the door. There's suddenly a lot of excited chatter on the other side, and then a knock. Bethany opens the door just a tad and pokes her head inside. There's a throng of people behind her.
"Frank's here, Ms. Brown. And I think he's got your birthday present!"
The door opens all the way and Frank steps inside. Another person scoots in behind him and the door is closed.
"Happy Birthday, Murph," Frank says, smiling warmly as he steps aside. And once he does, Murphy's eyes widen and her mouth drops.
"Oh. My. God." These are the only words she can get out of her mouth. She doesn't even care that she's staring. How can she not stare?
The woman in front of her laughs. "Hello, Murphy," she says. "Your friends told me you'd really like it if I sang a couple of songs for you in honor of your birthday."
"Oh. My. God," Murphy repeats. Her shock quickly turns into elation and she nods her head slowly. "Uh-huh, I would like that. A lot. A lot a lot."
"Well, then," says the one, the only, Aretha Franklin, "what am I singing today?"
This is unbelievable! Murphy thinks. How did they even pull this off? God, first I finally get the perfect secretary, and now Aretha Franklin is here! If I didn't know any better, I'd say this was all a-
"OW!"
Murphy's eyes fly open (but weren't they open before?), and she blinks, confused. This isn't her office. She's lying on her back on the floor next to a couch that looks suspiciously like her own couch, staring up at the Statue of Liberty on the ceiling. Or half of the Statue of Liberty, rather. That's Eldin's mural that he's been working on, she thinks, but why am I-
"Welcome back to the land of the conscious," Eldin says with a smile. She doesn't see him at first, but when she sits up, she finds him peeking out from behind the wall in the foyer, brush and palette in hand. "I'm gonna go ahead and assume you had a good nap. Those noises you were making were gettin' to be pretty interesting." He chuckles as he says, "You must've been dreamin' about somebody nice."
"Dreaming..." Murphy repeats as the reality of being at home sinks in. "Dreaming about-"
"Oh, oh God!" Eldin interrupts, peeking out from behind the wall again. "You're not gonna try to tell me about it, are you? No offense or anything, but I don't think those would be images that would leave me in a timely fashion."
Murphy stares blankly ahead for a few moments before slowly reaching for one of the pillows on the couch. As soon as she grabs it, she flops back down onto the floor, puts it over head, and sighs.
-----
Everyone in the bullpen can hear what sounds like the familiar melody from "Happy Birthday to You", but no one's able to pinpoint its location. It's growing louder every second, but when they all look around at each other, they see nothing but sealed lips. Their puzzlement increases with the song's volume, but once the elevator dings and opens its doors, everything's made pretty clear.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR MURPHYYYY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEEEEE!"
She stands there with her arms spread out like she's waiting for somebody to come over and hug her, and she's grinning broadly. She couldn't be happier if you paid her. Well, that's not true; a little cash wouldn't be the worst thing you could give her.
Nevertheless, no one in the room is too impressed. Sporting blank expressions, they wearily mutter some "happy birthday"s back to her as they return their focus to their work.
"What?" Murphy asks, no longer amused as her arms drop to her side. "So I'm giving you one more reminder that it's my birthday. It's not like I talked about it that much before."
The outcry is a little louder this time. Everyone's words are fairly indistinguishable, but someone's able to make a "only for the past month and a half!" clearly heard.
"Okay, okay," she surrenders as she makes her way to her office. "So sue me for being a little excited."
She's so distracted by the lack of enthusiasm for her birthday that she walks right by her secretary's desk without noticing her secretary.
"Oh! Ms. Brown!" the woman calls, her long, blond and curly hair bouncing as she leaps out of her chair. Murphy turns toward her and is a little taken aback by what she sees; the woman looks like she belongs in Hollywood. Her eyes are a deep, beautiful blue and they sparkle brilliantly. Her body is slender and perfect, with curves in all the right places, and Murphy's sure it must've already turned Frank's head. And the smile... if this woman didn't look so genuinely pleasant and friendly, it might've been a little creepy. Murphy slowly extends her hand to the glowing person in front of her, hypnotized by her golden perfection.
"It's so nice to finally meet you," the woman tells her as she takes her hand and shakes it. "I'm Bethany Jones, and I'm your new secretary. I know you must be wondering if I'm cut out for this job, but I assure you, I am: I've located and sorted all of the reports that you needed for today, I've taken all your messages and arranged them in a neat little pile in the center of your desk, and I noticed that the light bulb in your lamp had burned out, so I went ahead and changed it. Oh, and I also fed your fish; they're such friendly little things!"
Murphy doesn't immediately realize that her mouth is hanging open.
"You... you did all that?" she asks, her suspicion growing exponentially. There's a catch here, she thinks. There's always a catch, there's always a catch... she's a serial killer, her family's nuts and they're using her to stalk me, she's got a weird obsession with golf balls...
"Of course!" Bethany cheerily exclaims, folding her hands in front of her and smiling. "That's my job, isn't it?"
"Uh-huh... yeah, it is, and I'm..." Murphy pauses and looks Bethany up and down. Nothing about her seems out of the ordinary, and her clothes are totally free of wrinkles and dust. "Where did you say you were from again?"
"Oh, I didn't," Bethany replies. "But I grew up right here in D.C., so any time you need directions somewhere, I'm sure I could come up with something." She cocks her head to the side and smiles her perfect smile again.
Murphy wants to distrust her, she wants that a lot, but it just isn't happening. She can only stand there and gape at the person who might really be... who might really be... no, she can't say it. That would jinx it.
"Well, um," Bethany says, "I don't want to be rude, but I honestly..."
Oh, God, here it comes, Murphy thinks. She braces for the worst.
"...have to get back to work! You're a very busy woman; there's a lot I have to do for you! I should probably get to work on dinner reservations at some point, seeing as how it's your birthday and all, right?"
Her mouth is hanging open again.
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, that'd be... that'd be nice," Murphy says, reaching out for the doorknob to her office as she continues to be entranced by Bethany. Bethany, on the other hand, simply smiles and returns to her seat, and immediately sets about sorting through the papers on the desk.
After a few more moments, Murphy's finally able to shake her head and open the door, and as soon as she does, she's greeted with a loud, "SURPRISE!". Jim, Corky and Miles are all there, wearing party hats and grinning and popping a few party poppers.
"Oh, you guys!" Murphy exclaims happily. She doesn't waste any time getting right to the point, though. "Who's got presents for me?"
The party hat-clad trio smiles at each other; they knew she'd jump right to the free stuff.
"I've got a present for you!" Corky steps forward holding a little box with a pink bow on it. "I made you some cookies..." Her smile disappears suddenly, and she looks very serious as she whispers, "...to help you get your mind off your going another year over the hill."
"Gee..." Murphy forces a smile. "Thanks. Now how about the rest of you; where are my presents?"
It's then that she notices that there are only four people standing in her office when there should definitely be five. "And where's Frank?"
Miles brings a black walkie-talkie out from behind his back and grins like a little boy in a toy store. He immediately brings the device to his mouth and speaks into it. "This is Big Eagle calling The Stallion. The operation is a go, Stallion. Over!" Chuckling excitedly, he waits for a response, and grins even more when he hears static.
"Uh, Miles..." The voice on the other end is definitely Frank's. "I thought we decided we weren't going to use the nicknames."
"Oh." Miles' smile vanishes, and his cheeks grow slightly pink. "We did?"
"Yeah," Frank's static-laden voice replies. "Anyway, I'm bringing her up now, so make sure Murphy's ready."
"Ooh, ready?" Murphy asks, her eyes brightening with what some might've classified as blatant greed. "Ready for what? Oh, wait, was my present the secretary? Because I have to tell you, she seems incredible and even though I don't want to jinx it, I think she might really be The One and-"
Jim comes forward and puts a hand on Murphy's shoulder. Even he looks pretty giddy. "No, no, it's not the secretary. You'd better brace yourself for this one, Slugger. It's good."
All four of them turn and look at the door. There's suddenly a lot of excited chatter on the other side, and then a knock. Bethany opens the door just a tad and pokes her head inside. There's a throng of people behind her.
"Frank's here, Ms. Brown. And I think he's got your birthday present!"
The door opens all the way and Frank steps inside. Another person scoots in behind him and the door is closed.
"Happy Birthday, Murph," Frank says, smiling warmly as he steps aside. And once he does, Murphy's eyes widen and her mouth drops.
"Oh. My. God." These are the only words she can get out of her mouth. She doesn't even care that she's staring. How can she not stare?
The woman in front of her laughs. "Hello, Murphy," she says. "Your friends told me you'd really like it if I sang a couple of songs for you in honor of your birthday."
"Oh. My. God," Murphy repeats. Her shock quickly turns into elation and she nods her head slowly. "Uh-huh, I would like that. A lot. A lot a lot."
"Well, then," says the one, the only, Aretha Franklin, "what am I singing today?"
This is unbelievable! Murphy thinks. How did they even pull this off? God, first I finally get the perfect secretary, and now Aretha Franklin is here! If I didn't know any better, I'd say this was all a-
"OW!"
Murphy's eyes fly open (but weren't they open before?), and she blinks, confused. This isn't her office. She's lying on her back on the floor next to a couch that looks suspiciously like her own couch, staring up at the Statue of Liberty on the ceiling. Or half of the Statue of Liberty, rather. That's Eldin's mural that he's been working on, she thinks, but why am I-
"Welcome back to the land of the conscious," Eldin says with a smile. She doesn't see him at first, but when she sits up, she finds him peeking out from behind the wall in the foyer, brush and palette in hand. "I'm gonna go ahead and assume you had a good nap. Those noises you were making were gettin' to be pretty interesting." He chuckles as he says, "You must've been dreamin' about somebody nice."
"Dreaming..." Murphy repeats as the reality of being at home sinks in. "Dreaming about-"
"Oh, oh God!" Eldin interrupts, peeking out from behind the wall again. "You're not gonna try to tell me about it, are you? No offense or anything, but I don't think those would be images that would leave me in a timely fashion."
Murphy stares blankly ahead for a few moments before slowly reaching for one of the pillows on the couch. As soon as she grabs it, she flops back down onto the floor, puts it over head, and sighs.