angry_cowboy (angry_cowboy) wrote in pathways_log, @ 2021-03-08 16:45:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | deadly premonition: francis york morgan, roswell nm: michael guerin |
Who: York and Michael
What: Drinking and strong feelings
When: During the Baby Bliss Plot
Where: Random bar
Ratings/Warnings: Pretty low. Brief tag of serial killers
Status: Complete!
When Michael wasn’t working he could usually be found at one bar or another. Otherwise he would spend too much time thinking about his past. Trying to remember those first seven years. Keeping himself busy and drinking were the only ways he could escape his thoughts. Given it was a Saturday a bar was the preferred option.
Michael walked in making his way over to the bar, ready to order his drink. But then something stopped him. There was a man sitting at the bar and Michael suddenly felt his heart speed up. He simply had to know the guy. “Hey,” Michael said, taking a seat on the stool next to him. “Can I buy you a drink?”
He usually wasn’t quite this forward. In fact most of his hookups happened when both of them were pretty drunk and ready to take someone home. But there was just something different about this guy.
York had a certain style when it came to investigation. Despite what some of his colleagues might think -- or even say, if asked -- York was always focused on finding the killer and bringing them to justice. However, over the course of his years spent with the FBI, he’d learned that there had to be a balance between work and not-work. Not having such a balance was a good way to burn out, and burn out quickly. Besides, he considered it important to get to know the area in which he was investigating, meet and mingle with the locals. If you could get them comfortable with you, it could be surprising the gossip one might hear.
This was why York had decided to go out to a bar this evening. He’d ordered a drink (of which he downed pretty quickly) and was chatting with the bartender when a stranger suddenly appeared at his side and offered to buy him a drink.
This was a first.
York took a look at the man seated next to him. As he looked him over, York found himself struck with an odd sensation, something he didn’t quite know how to describe, other than a want to be friendly with him. In the very least accept his very gracious offer of a drink. “Of course,” he said with a nod. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Michael said, grinning. Although what the hell, he didn’t usually say things like that. But whatever he was going with it. “What are you having?” Michael asked flagging the bartender down though his eyes remained on the guy next to him. Damn he was handsome. Michael almost couldn’t believe the guy was actually talking to him,
“I’m Michael by the way,” he added. Way to forget to introduce himself first. For a genius he could be a real idiot sometimes.
“Francis York Morgan,” York responded with a slight smile of his own. “But just call me York. Everyone does.” He glanced at the empty glass already in front of him. “I was sampling what the bar has on tap. This,” he picked up the glass, “I think came from one of the local breweries?” He glanced at the bartender, who nodded the affirmative. “It’s very good,” York turned his attention back to Michael. “Are you a beer drinker, Michael?”
York. What an unique name, Michael instantly liked it. It definitely fit him. Michael just grinned at his question. He practically lived off beer. Beer or whiskey usually, depending on his mood. “Hell yeah,” Michael replied to York before glancing over at the bartender. “Another for him,” Michael ordered. “And I’ll have the same.” He usually selected his own beer but for some reason he thought that if York liked it, it would be good.
Michael’s friendly enthusiasm was refreshing, and something much needed while York was busy with an investigation. It was a nice reminder that people other than “victims” and “killers” existed in the world. Sometimes it was too easy to pass off others as “vegetables” -- individuals who just existed without consequence. Like NPC’s in a video game. Michael here, was certainly anything but a vegetable.
“I’m glad you decided to join me,” York said. “My partner elected to go to a different bar tonight, so it’s nice to have some company.” He nodded to the bartender when he placed two new glasses of beer down in front of them. “Tell me a little about yourself, Michael,” York said as he drew his glass towards him.
Michael usually wasn’t all that enthusiastic or friendly. But there was something about York that compelled Michael to keep talking to him. He didn’t really believe in love at first sight or instant connections or any of that bull shit. Yet he seemed to be experiencing an instant connection right now.
“Partner?” Michael questioned trying his best not to sound too disappointed. He picked up the beer that was just placed in front of him and took a long swallow. “Not much to tell,” he said with a shrug. “Grew up here,” well from age seven on but he wasn’t about to get into the fact that he didn’t know what the first seven years of his life entailed. “Went away to college, and now I’m back working for Stark Industries.” He paused taking another ship of his drink, his bad hand wrapped around the glass. “I’m sure you’re much more interesting.”
York was a good FBI agent, but he was unfortunately incredibly dense when it came to recognizing when someone had an obvious interest in him. It may have been because romance, as an overall concept, was utterly lost on him. Still, he liked Michael and already found him to be appealing company, quite appealing actually.
“Don’t sell yourself short,” York said. “Everyone is interesting in their own way. For instance, you work for Stark Industries, that in itself sounds incredibly interesting.”
Of course Michael noticed how he didn’t reply to his questioning the partner bit. Oh well. At least the guy still wanted to talk to him. Michael couldn’t imagine the guy not talking to him. He didn’t think he could handle it. Which was weird considering he didn’t even know York. And yet he still couldn’t help himself.
“You’re very good at not talking about yourself,” Michael pointed out, taking another swallow of his beer. “And I still want to get to know more about you.”
York took a sip of his beer. Michael was right, it was only fair that he talked about himself since Michael answered his questions. “I’m an agent with the FBI,” he explained. “I’m out of New York technically, but considering my expertise is violent crimes -- serial killers in particular -- I get sent out on assignments a lot. Funnily enough, this is the first time I’ve been to Las Vegas.”
“So you’re here looking for a serial killer?” That was not at all what Michael was expecting. But it only made York that much more impressive and interesting. “How do you get into something like that?” his choice of career Michael meant. Not serial killing.
“I am.” York nodded. “I don’t know if you pay attention to the news, but a string of murders in the area have recently been linked together. My partner and I caught the assignment, though, neither one of us were aware of the other until we arrived.” Which York still thought was a little underhanded of Abrams to do. Not that anything could be done about it now.
He took another drought of his beer. “As for getting into this line of work?” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “My father was an FBI agent,” he answered simply. “After I graduated high school it just made sense for me to follow after him. I went to university and got a degree in criminal justice, then it was on to Quantico.” York shrugged. “The rest just sort of fell into place after that.”
Michael didn’t pay much attention to the news. Though now he might have to. Follow along with York’s case. He was definitely interested. “Your partner that didn’t want to drink with you tonight?” Michael questioned feeling a bit hopeful again.
“Ah, so you followed in your dad’s footsteps?” Though for once Michael didn’t feel the usual bitterness he did when other people mentioned their parents. Michael had no idea who his parents were, and the mention of others usually put him in a bad mood. But not tonight. He was too fascinated by York for that. “You must be really smart.” For his line of work. Not the following in his dad’s footsteps.
York nodded again. “That’s right. I asked her if she wanted to come with me for a few drinks,” he said of Veronica. “But I don’t think this bar is her style.” He shrugged.
He chuckled faintly at Michael’s comment about him being smart. “I don’t know about that,” he said. “I ask a lot of questions. When I was a kid I drove my aunt nuts.” He tilted his head slightly towards Michael. There was something about the other man that was intriguing, though York couldn’t put a finger on exactly what that was. He was just as interested in finding out more about him as Michael was. “You said you work for Stark Industries,” he said. “That’s very impressive. It must be fascinating to work at such a place. What do you do there?”
“Lucky for me,” Michael said with a smirk. Though he had a feeling even if York had been with his partner, Michael would have approached him still.
“Ah,” Michael commented with another swallow of his drink. “Still gotta be smart enough to know the right questions to ask.” As for Stark Industries… “It’s not the worst job in the world,” Michael said with a small shrug, especially when Tony let him drink beer. “I work in the engineering department.”
York tilted his head slightly, interest and curiosity clear in his eyes. “I don’t know much about engineering,” he said. “In fact, I don’t know anything about engineering. What do the engineers do? Is it like research and development, or more actually putting things together?”
And there was that curiosity. Even without his questions Michael could see it in his eyes. He personally didn’t think his job was all that interesting. Nothing like hunting down serial killers, but York had indulged him, he could do the same.
“A bit of both,” Michael replied. “Right now I’m working on research, but eventually I’ll be helping put together a new building with zero carbon footprint.”
York had a thing for science fiction and horror movies. A house without a carbon footprint sounded as though it was taken straight from one of those films. It made him even more interested in the young man seated with him. “That’s amazing,” he said, shaking his head a bit in awe. “We really are living in the future.” He looked at Michael quizzically. “What goes into designing a house like that? I assume it would have to be completely self-sufficient. Solar powered, everything recycled. Nothing wasted.”
In York’s head he was picturing a very futuristic home. All sleek lines and floor to ceiling windows; black solar panels adorning the roof and everything on the inside run by a very smart, yet somewhat diabolical A.I. He chuckled a little at the thought. “You probably can’t talk too much about it,” he said, though there was a bit of hope in his voice that Michael could give him a few small details.
Michael really wasn’t supposed to be talking about it. But with the look York was giving him how could he resist? Plus it was kind of surprising that someone was actually so interested in his work. Most people found it boring.
“You have the right idea,” he replied with an assuring smile. “Right now I’m trying to figure out how to cut out carbon emissions of the actual structure, ways we can change the materials.” It was most likely going to be a different way of making the cement. But that was getting too technical. “But enough about work.”
York was still interested in what kind of ideas Michael had about making his future-house, but the other man had made it clear that he didn’t want to discuss it further. Normally, York would have pressed, but for whatever reason he did not want to upset Michael. So he simply nodded. “Of course,” he said with a smile. “What do you do in your spare time, then?” He asked. “What sort of hobbies do you enjoy?” Everyone had to have a life outside of work, after all! It was the best way to keep sane, no matter what you were doing.
“I like to work on cars,” Michael said, taking another sip of his beer. It had been something he had done since high school. He also liked to play guitar back then, but that was no longer an option these days. “You weren’t kidding about the curiosity thing,” Michael said with a small laugh. But he didn’t mind it. Most people didn’t want to know anything about him. It was nice that someone was actually showing interest.
“What about you?” he asked, taking a swallow of his drink. “Or is it catching serial killers twenty-four/seven?”
York chuckled. “I think I’d go crazy if catching killers consumed my every waking thought,” he said truthfully. “I figured out a long time ago that when you deal with the darkest parts of humanity, finding a balance between work and personal life is crucial.” He reached for his beer, which had been left mostly untouched as the two had talked and was growing a little warm. “I watch a lot of movies. I have a love for old-school science fiction, but really, I’m not all that choosey.”
“Watching movies is how you handle your work life balance?” Michael questioned. “No girlfriend,” he paused before asking what he really wanted to. “Or boyfriend?” Though despite Yorks curiosity in him, Michael was getting the vibe that he didn’t swing that way.
York picked up on the subtlety of the question. Normally it would have made him question what exactly Michael’s intentions were, but he honestly didn’t care. The conversation was enjoyable and he really liked Michael. He chuckled a little dryly. “No girlfriend,” he confirmed. “Romance and I are but fleeting strangers.”
Of course Michael noticed how he said girlfriend. It was clear York wasn’t interested in men. Michalel’s intuition had been right. But still he wanted to be around the guy and talk to him more. “Yeah I guess traveling a lot chasing serial killers would make that difficult.”
“That’s part of it,” York agreed. “But I don’t always get along very well with other people. I’m a little too set in my ways, maybe. I’ve been fortunate enough that my new partner seems to tolerate me.” For now anyway. He looked at Michael apologetically. “I assume since you asked you were hoping I’d say I didn’t have a boyfriend? I am sorry to disappoint you. I hope this doesn’t mean we have to stop talking.”
“I find that hard to believe.” They were getting along pretty well after all. Michael couldn’t imagine York being anything but pleasant and easy to talk to. “Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “I had a feeling that wasn’t your thing but never hurts to check,” he shrugged, sipping his drink. “We can definitely keep talking.” Michael didn’t want the conversation to end either. Even if he wasn’t going to get a hook up out of it. Usually he would just move on to the next. But he didn’t want to tonight. He wanted to keep talking to York.
York was relieved to hear that. “I’m very glad to hear that,” he said happily. “I don’t have a lot of opportunities to make friends in my travels,“ he went on. “So this is nice.” He didn’t want to say so for fear of overstepping some kind of line, but he really did feel as though Michael was a friend. Not just a friend, but a good friend, even if he had just met him. “I hope we’ll get to do this again.”
“As long as you’re in town,” which Michael was hoping would be a long time. “We can keep doing this.” Well he might not have met a new hook up, but he now had a new friend to drink with at the very least. And that was almost as good.