Epilogue
TITLE: Epilogue
AUTHOR: honor_reid
FANDOM: Murdoch Mysteries
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: 1,173
SUMMARY: Murdoch goes looking for Crabtree. Epilogue/Episode tag for Season 1 episode 3 "The Knockdown."
NOTES: This was written for the comm
hc_bingo prompt: Bruises, table here.
and stories_a_z prompt E found here. Many, many thanks to my awesome beta for this story Psyko_kittie.
DISCLAIMER: 'I don't own these characters, nor am I making any money from them. I merely borrow them from time to time'
“I’m not gonna have to wear another…dress am I sir, because the lad’s really gave me a hard time…George Crabtree, “The Knockdown”
Glancing at the clock, Murdoch saw hours had passed since escorting Mrs. Robinson from jail and into her new life. After straightening his report and placing it to the side to file, Murdoch put his desk in order, so that everything would be ready for the next day. As he gathered up his jacket to leave, William realized he had yet to see Crabtree’s report. Through Constable Crabtree was a conscientious policeman, Murdoch wanted to make sure they had a solid case against Ozzie Beers.
Closing his office door behind him, Murdoch moved down the hall, first looking in the common areas for the wayward constable before searching the courtyard, and in the holding area. He knew Crabtree must still be in the building because his shift was just now ending. And with that thought an epiphany struck him, George was probably in the constables’ changing room getting ready to leave. Quickly striding down the hall, Murdoch stopped briefly in front of the correct door before pushing it open. Inside there were two rows of cubbies for the constable’s to change their clothes and the first row was empty.
Murdoch felt his frustration growing by the second as he swiftly rounded the corner to check the second row of cubbies. And what he saw quieted the words that were on his tongue. George was standing about midway down the row, with his pants and shoes on, but he hadn’t put his shirt on yet. The sight that gave him pause was the large dark bruise along the left side of Crabtree’s chest. It stretched from collarbone to waist and was very colorful. And from the slow way George was moving, Murdoch was sure it was causing the constable considerable pain.
George Crabtree was having a heck of a time getting his civilian clothes back on. As the day had worn on, his torso had stiffened up, especially the chest muscles on his left side. He had finally managed to put his pants and shoes on, but he was hesitating with his shirt because he couldn’t figure out a way to put it on without causing his torso to hurt. Trying to thread his arm through the sleeve, George grimaced as pain shot through him. The sound of footsteps made him look up and see Detective Murdoch.
Momentarily forgetting the shirt in his hand, George asked, “Did you need something sir?”
Murdoch walked forward until he was standing next to the constable and answered, “Yes, but first what happened to you?”
George blushed slightly and started to shrug his shoulders, but then his ribs reminded him why that was a bad idea so instead he said, “It was an accident.”
At hearing those words, Murdoch scrutinized George like he was a crime scene, and suddenly he recalled something the constable had said earlier. “I’m not gonna have to wear another…dress am I sir, because the lad’s really gave me a hard time…”
As anger swept through him, Murdoch narrowed his eyes and questioned, “Was it the other constables that did this?”
George knew the detective was good, through he was still surprised that Murdoch had managed to figure it out. Yet seeing how angry the detective seemed George quickly came to the other constables’ defense, “It was truly an accident, sir. The lads were just fooling around by giving me a hard time. There was some horseplay and I accidently fell against some crates out back.”
Murdoch had seen the constables pushing each other around like Labrador puppies on previous occasions and so it was feasible that the Crabtree was telling the truth. Although it still bugged him, because he felt responsible.
With a nod, William accepted George’s explanation, and took the shirt from the constable’s hand. “Here let me help you.”
In spite of feeling self-conscious about helping George dress, Murdoch was determined to be useful as he held the shirt out. And as he watched George slowly put his arm through the first sleeve and then in the other, he felt his conscience twinge a bit.
“I tend to get so focused on a case I forget everything else including those around me,” Murdoch awkwardly stated as he started to button the shirt.
Once finished with the center buttons he moved on to the cuffs quickly buttoning up one side then the other as he said, “I want you to know if I ask you to do something that makes you uncomfortable…” though his voice trailed off as he looked up when he heard a breathy laugh and saw George’s eyebrows raise in disbelief.
Murdoch thought back on all of the odd things he has asked Constable Crabtree do for this case continued with a smile and a chagrined tone of voice, “I know…I ask you to do many things that probably make you uncomfortable, but if there is ever anything I ask of you that you truly do not wish to, I want you to tell me and I will honor that.” He held the constable’s gaze so George could see that he was serious and it was when the younger man nodded that Murdoch finally helped him put his jacket on.
After helping George into his jacket, William noticed that his shoes were untied and knelt down, starting to tie them for the constable.
“Oh, sir you don’t have to do that,” George spoke in a hurry. It didn’t seem right to have a detective tie his shoes when he was only a constable.
Glancing up from his task, Murdoch said, “No problem, George, I doubt you could do it on you own.”
George doubted it as well, but he was warmed by the fact that the detective was willing to help out because it showed him that the man did care. There had been times when he felt like Detective Murdoch only saw him as another piece of office equipment, something to be used to solve their cases but not as a real person.
As the Detective stood up, George blurted out, “Thank you, sir, and just so you know, I enjoy working with you.” Murdoch just stared, causing George to blush in embarrassment and quickly continued, “You have a unique way of going about things and I learn a lot, and more often then not we solve our cases, so I don’t regret anything.”
Murdoch felt some of his guilt lighten, so with a smile he said, “Even wearing a dress?”
George’s grin widened and he laughed lightly while being mindful of his ribs, saying, “Even wearing a dress in order to shoot a pig.”
In deference to the stiff and careful way the other man continued to move, Murdoch gathered the rest of the constable’s stuff and slowly escorted George out.
As they walked out of the room in companionable silence, both realized that just maybe they understood the other just a little bit better.
AUTHOR: honor_reid
FANDOM: Murdoch Mysteries
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: 1,173
SUMMARY: Murdoch goes looking for Crabtree. Epilogue/Episode tag for Season 1 episode 3 "The Knockdown."
NOTES: This was written for the comm
hc_bingo prompt: Bruises, table here.
and stories_a_z prompt E found here. Many, many thanks to my awesome beta for this story Psyko_kittie.
DISCLAIMER: 'I don't own these characters, nor am I making any money from them. I merely borrow them from time to time'
“I’m not gonna have to wear another…dress am I sir, because the lad’s really gave me a hard time…George Crabtree, “The Knockdown”
Glancing at the clock, Murdoch saw hours had passed since escorting Mrs. Robinson from jail and into her new life. After straightening his report and placing it to the side to file, Murdoch put his desk in order, so that everything would be ready for the next day. As he gathered up his jacket to leave, William realized he had yet to see Crabtree’s report. Through Constable Crabtree was a conscientious policeman, Murdoch wanted to make sure they had a solid case against Ozzie Beers.
Closing his office door behind him, Murdoch moved down the hall, first looking in the common areas for the wayward constable before searching the courtyard, and in the holding area. He knew Crabtree must still be in the building because his shift was just now ending. And with that thought an epiphany struck him, George was probably in the constables’ changing room getting ready to leave. Quickly striding down the hall, Murdoch stopped briefly in front of the correct door before pushing it open. Inside there were two rows of cubbies for the constable’s to change their clothes and the first row was empty.
Murdoch felt his frustration growing by the second as he swiftly rounded the corner to check the second row of cubbies. And what he saw quieted the words that were on his tongue. George was standing about midway down the row, with his pants and shoes on, but he hadn’t put his shirt on yet. The sight that gave him pause was the large dark bruise along the left side of Crabtree’s chest. It stretched from collarbone to waist and was very colorful. And from the slow way George was moving, Murdoch was sure it was causing the constable considerable pain.
George Crabtree was having a heck of a time getting his civilian clothes back on. As the day had worn on, his torso had stiffened up, especially the chest muscles on his left side. He had finally managed to put his pants and shoes on, but he was hesitating with his shirt because he couldn’t figure out a way to put it on without causing his torso to hurt. Trying to thread his arm through the sleeve, George grimaced as pain shot through him. The sound of footsteps made him look up and see Detective Murdoch.
Momentarily forgetting the shirt in his hand, George asked, “Did you need something sir?”
Murdoch walked forward until he was standing next to the constable and answered, “Yes, but first what happened to you?”
George blushed slightly and started to shrug his shoulders, but then his ribs reminded him why that was a bad idea so instead he said, “It was an accident.”
At hearing those words, Murdoch scrutinized George like he was a crime scene, and suddenly he recalled something the constable had said earlier. “I’m not gonna have to wear another…dress am I sir, because the lad’s really gave me a hard time…”
As anger swept through him, Murdoch narrowed his eyes and questioned, “Was it the other constables that did this?”
George knew the detective was good, through he was still surprised that Murdoch had managed to figure it out. Yet seeing how angry the detective seemed George quickly came to the other constables’ defense, “It was truly an accident, sir. The lads were just fooling around by giving me a hard time. There was some horseplay and I accidently fell against some crates out back.”
Murdoch had seen the constables pushing each other around like Labrador puppies on previous occasions and so it was feasible that the Crabtree was telling the truth. Although it still bugged him, because he felt responsible.
With a nod, William accepted George’s explanation, and took the shirt from the constable’s hand. “Here let me help you.”
In spite of feeling self-conscious about helping George dress, Murdoch was determined to be useful as he held the shirt out. And as he watched George slowly put his arm through the first sleeve and then in the other, he felt his conscience twinge a bit.
“I tend to get so focused on a case I forget everything else including those around me,” Murdoch awkwardly stated as he started to button the shirt.
Once finished with the center buttons he moved on to the cuffs quickly buttoning up one side then the other as he said, “I want you to know if I ask you to do something that makes you uncomfortable…” though his voice trailed off as he looked up when he heard a breathy laugh and saw George’s eyebrows raise in disbelief.
Murdoch thought back on all of the odd things he has asked Constable Crabtree do for this case continued with a smile and a chagrined tone of voice, “I know…I ask you to do many things that probably make you uncomfortable, but if there is ever anything I ask of you that you truly do not wish to, I want you to tell me and I will honor that.” He held the constable’s gaze so George could see that he was serious and it was when the younger man nodded that Murdoch finally helped him put his jacket on.
After helping George into his jacket, William noticed that his shoes were untied and knelt down, starting to tie them for the constable.
“Oh, sir you don’t have to do that,” George spoke in a hurry. It didn’t seem right to have a detective tie his shoes when he was only a constable.
Glancing up from his task, Murdoch said, “No problem, George, I doubt you could do it on you own.”
George doubted it as well, but he was warmed by the fact that the detective was willing to help out because it showed him that the man did care. There had been times when he felt like Detective Murdoch only saw him as another piece of office equipment, something to be used to solve their cases but not as a real person.
As the Detective stood up, George blurted out, “Thank you, sir, and just so you know, I enjoy working with you.” Murdoch just stared, causing George to blush in embarrassment and quickly continued, “You have a unique way of going about things and I learn a lot, and more often then not we solve our cases, so I don’t regret anything.”
Murdoch felt some of his guilt lighten, so with a smile he said, “Even wearing a dress?”
George’s grin widened and he laughed lightly while being mindful of his ribs, saying, “Even wearing a dress in order to shoot a pig.”
In deference to the stiff and careful way the other man continued to move, Murdoch gathered the rest of the constable’s stuff and slowly escorted George out.
As they walked out of the room in companionable silence, both realized that just maybe they understood the other just a little bit better.