✨DOOMSDAY TRIO TRIPTYCH✨

Monument Woman

Pairing: Marcus Pike x OC (Rosemary Carter)

Warnings: None

A/N: God, I have been wanting to finish this story for weeks, but once we got out of quarantine, I lost all ambition to write.  So, I’m glad I finally have enough of a cushion to get part 1 out to you guys.  I won’t be following my old posting schedule, but I hope I don’t go so far between posts that you all forget about me!

Reminder: I ain’t ever seen Pedro Pascal in FUCK ALL, I’m just coming up with this as I go along, using imdb.com, wiki, and 84,000 tabs I got open to plan out this shit.  I also write soft versions of his characters so if you’re craving asshole vibes, I ain’t got any but my own to offer.

Tag List:

@zeldasayer , @romanticgumchewer, @beskars , @coolmaybelateruniverse , @the-feckless-wonder , @pascalisthepunkest , @mandoandyodito , @randomness501 , @fioccodineveautunnale  , @ahopelessromanticwritersworld [please message me to be added or subtracted]

Part 1 – And So We Begin 

“Thank you for calling Fort Jamison Historical Museum, this is Rosemary. How can I help you?”  The jaunty-sounding phrase rolled off her tongue automatically with little thought behind it until she heard the wizened chuckle on the other end.

“Do you always answer your cell phone like that?”  She pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned as Robert Lancaster’s chuckle morphed into a hearty laugh.  She couldn’t help but giggle along as she dropped her pencil and took off her glasses, setting them on the desk in front of her.

“You know, sometimes I do, especially when I’m not paying attention.” Rosemary leaned back into her chair, propping her feet up on the desk.  Her free hand dropped down to fondle Banana’s ears as the dog snoozed next to her.  “What’s up, Robert?”

“I’m doing some spring cleaning at the house and shop.  I got quite a few boxes accumulated, including stuff I’d like to donate to the museum.  When do you think you can come down to look through them?  I don’t expect you to take them all, but there are a couple of items I want you to specifically have.”  His voice sounded muffled over the phone as he bent down to toss another book into the Friends of the Library box.

“It’s a little slow this week,” she started as she checked the calendar on her wall.  “Looks like I can come as early as tomorrow.  So, if that works for you, I’ll bring the paperwork with me and we can just get it all done at once.”

“Oh, great!  I was hoping you could come soon.  It’s been a while since we had time to visit.”  His smile was evident in his voice.  “Can you do the paperwork on the computer?”

“Sure, we have the fillable PDFs.”

“Even better.  Just bring your laptop and we’ll work on it as we go through everything.  We can connect to the printer here and then you don’t have to worry about doing any of this at the office.  By the way, do you think you’ll have time for lunch?”

“Robert, you know I always have time for you.”  She smiled.  They had been friends for ten years by that point and he never failed to ask the lunch or dinner question and she never failed to make time for him.  Robert had been her first friend when she arrived in Michigan and the long-running friendship between the perpetual bachelor and the bold curator was stuff of area legend.  

There had been speculation of a May-December romance between the two, but Robert saw the younger woman as the daughter he never had and on her part Rosemary saw Robert as the father figure she lost when her grandfather passed away.

“Want to do Phil’s or Coral Gables?”  She smiled.  Just as their dates were always guaranteed, she knew that their location was as well. But it was habit to ask and it never felt right if she didn’t.

“Why do you even ask the question?  You know it’s supposed to be nice tomorrow, Coral Gables’ patio all the way.”  The two chatted a bit longer before they hung up, returning to the rest of their respective duties.  Rosemary sat up and Banana whined when she stopped petting him.  Spoiled dog.

“Sorry, Baba.  Work calls.” She stood up from her desk and wandered down the hall to the director’s office, knowing Helen was at her desk.  The third floor of the museum was workspace for the staff and despite working there for so many years, Rosemary never failed to draw an appreciative breath at the stunning sight of the Kalamazoo River.

As she ambled down the hall, Banana’s nails clicked on the tile floor, hinting that she wasn’t alone on her journey.  She smiled as she waved her hand and the dog rushed to her side.  The two slowly walked to the director’s office, warming themselves in the afternoon sun that poured through the windows.

Rosemary heard the muttering first as she rounded the corner and entered the office.  The stout woman was hunched over her laptop, her salt and pepper pixie cut sticking up everywhere.  Whatever she was working on, it was stressing her out.  Helen always pulled at her short strands when she was concentrating hard.

Smiling, Helen’s head jerked up as Rosemary knocked on the door.  The older woman waved her curator into the office and leaned back.  As she stretched, both women could hear a series of loud pops and they started to giggle.

“Ugh, I am getting too old to sit like this.  I need a massage.”  Helen groaned as yet another loud pop emitted from her shoulder.  As Banana scooched under the desk to get scritches from Helen, Rosemary plopped down in one of the armchairs and it creaked in complaint. “Do you have to sit so hard? Those are collection pieces, you know.”

“Not anymore.  I deaccessioned them last week into the decorative collection.  Donor approved, mind you.  So, we can sit in these however we want.”  Rosemary grinned as she threw a leg over the arm of the ornate chair.  For being so ugly, it was comfortable and not for the first time, she wondered if she could move them to her office without Helen noticing.

“That may be, but it’s not like we have money to fix something you broke because you were being too careless.”  Helen raised her eyebrow and Rosemary sat back up in the chair like normal, having the courtesy to look chagrined.  The director sat back.

“So, what do you need?  Are you still having issues with that Gaylord order?”

“Naw, I talked to them last week, they shipped it out yesterday. Finally.”  She rolled her eyes.  “Robert Lancaster called me just a bit ago, wanting to donate some items to the museum.  I got the time, so I’ll head to Saugatuck tomorrow to handle it.”

“Well, I know Robert is quite the collector, but do you think there are things we’ll want?  I’m hard pressed to start accepting any old thing again after we finally got the collections cleared up and decluttered.  I know he’s a long-time supporter of the museum, but I don’t know if I can take another ugly piece of furniture with a smile.”  Rosemary laughed at the comment.

“To his credit, he said there were things we probably wouldn’t want, and I doubt he’ll be sad if I said no to some things.  I certainly want to see what books he’s got for us.  We have a few things in the library that probably need to be rotated out into archives for their own protection.

“Besides, I am not going to pass up a chance to swoop in and yank the rug out from underneath Saugatuck.  You know that.  Watching Fred get mad that I got the leg up on him adds ten years to my life.” Rosemary rubbed her hands gleefully, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“You really hate him, don’t you?”  Helen laughed.  Lake Michigan History Center was a charming coastal museum, but everyone agreed their curator was a bit odd.  Rosemary took an instant dislike to the man when she came on Fort Jamison’s staff and over the years, their dislike turned into a mutual hatred.  Like her friendship with Robert, everyone knew Fred was Rosemary’s mortal enemy and vice versa.

“God, yes!  Helen, he’s a dick and greedy as hell.  I don’t trust him any further than I can toss his skinny ass. I am still pissed over the diary!  Mrs. Greenwich assured me that we were getting it and he slithered into the village last year and took it!”  Rosemary’s voice got louder.  “THAT DAMN DIARY HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH SAUGATUCK, LET ALONE MENTIONS IT!”

Helen laughed harder while raising her hands in surrender and her curator stopped herself before she got too carried away.  Rosemary cleared her throat and drew a deep breath.  Ugh, he always managed to get her riled up even when he wasn’t around.  Damn Fred.

“Sorry, sorry.  I shouldn’t let him get me so mad, but god.  I hate him so much!  So, if Robert Lancaster’s got something that would make Fred die with envy, then by god, I’m gonna bring it home.”

“Alright.  I trust you as usual.  But since you’re here, I want to go over a couple of things with you for this grant so I can get it out Friday.”

The two women moved on to other things and fell into discussion about the future of projects for the museum and how to fund them.

---***---

“Cripes.”

The word was accompanied by a deep groan.  Agent Marcus Pike sat back in his chair to rub his eyes for the third time in less than an hour.  Some intern had dumped four boxes of case files in his office and was coming back with four more.  And the intern was certain there was another half dozen.

When three art pieces were stolen in Canada last year, Pike had been notified as a courtesy from his Canadian counterparts.  Which in and of itself wasn’t unusual, but the notes from the agents there stood out to Pike and he realized that the details match another case he had worked on earlier in the year.  And further digging uncovered almost three dozen cases dating back almost thirty years that carried all the hallmarks of this most recent one.  And more importantly – they were all still open.

He had taken his concerns and theories to the Art Squad chief, Agent Maria Luisa Armand, and with her blessing, assembled a crew to explore these cold cases. Maybe with new technology and eyes, they’d get the lead to solve them all.

The dull throbbing behind his eyes seemed to get worse and he leaned further back in his chair, trying to do some breathing exercises to reduce the pressure.  He let his eyes go unfocused, letting the colored light reflected on his ceiling go blurry.  The stained glass propped up in his office window had been a bit of an indulgence for him, but Pike never regretted the purchase and, in that moment, the colored streaks help bring some sense of zen that he needed.

A knock on his door forced him out of his zone and he sat up to see his partner, Brenda Carmichael, waiting at the door.  He smiled when he saw her and she returned the gesture, coming in to sit in one of the chairs.  The two had been partners for six years and together they had solved dozens of cases and thwarted twice as much.

“Do we have a plan, Carmichael?”

“Yep.  Someone is coming to get these boxes and take them to Conference D, which I commandeered.”

“How did you do that?”

“Threatened to tell Harrison’s wife that he was spending big cash on that escort he’s seeing.”

“Ouch, a little low, don’t you think?”  Pike laughed.

“God no.  Harrison doesn’t ever play nice, so you can’t do it with him.”  She waived her hand and laughed, her tightly coiled hair bouncing as if it was laughing, too.  “Anyway, three junior agents are on the job currently preparing to create the timeline and pulling all the files.  Two more are working to create point of contact lists for witnesses and such. And finally, I think Armand is putting on the coffee.”

“So where does that leave you and me?”  He didn’t think he’d get such a big crew to do this.  Must be a slow day in other departments.  “I want Fitzbender on the NSAF search and follow up, though, before I forget. 

“That’s fine.  And we supervise.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it for now. Until we have more material to work with.  So up off your duff and let’s get going.”

Pike smiled as he pulled himself out of his chair, grabbing his jacket and gesturing to Carmichael to leave first.  If they could solve these cases, it would be the biggest win in the Art Squad’s recent history and Pike really wanted to bring those pieces home where they belonged.

---***----

“Robert, you know I love you, but you have some ugly stuff here.” Rosemary’s nose wrinkled at the stuffed monkey with murderous eyes staring at her from a box.  The only place that creepy thing was going was in the garbage.  She moved on to another open box, pawing through the items that were housed there, pulling out a couple of potentials.

“Yeah, well no accounting for taste, I guess.”  Robert groaned as he leaned over and pulled open another box. He thought he had labelled all of them for the museum, but he realized three of them got mixed up in the junk pile. “God, how did I miss all these boxes. I’m sorry Rosie, I am usually better organized.”

“It’s not a problem, Robert.”  Rosemary walked over with the contents of yet another box, a bounce in her step as she realized she snagged a two-hundred-year-old map of the area that Fred would have murdered her to get for himself.  Her grin was almost feral at the idea that she one upped the old bastard. “Hey, question.”

“What?”  Robert had moved on to a small box on his desk that had a post-it with Rosemary’s name on it.

“What’s with all the cleaning and giving away all of a sudden?  The house wasn’t like this when I visited two months ago.”  She wiped the sweat off her brow and turned to look at him.  He was quiet and she took a moment to really look at him.

She knew from long talks that Robert had been living in the Saugatuck area since the 1990s.  He had come from Chicago, declaring he needed a slower pace and his bookstore was a welcomed addition to the downtown area.  He was highly philanthropic to causes he loved, like the Fort Jamison museum.

After her Pops passed away several years ago, she seemed to lean even more into Robert to fill the empty void and he did so gladly.  As she watched him shuffle about, she grew concerned because he looked more frail than usual.  The man had always been on the thin side, but he looked scarily thin and a thought skittered through her mind that sent a wave of sadness through her.

“Robert, are you sick?”  There was no hiding the sadness in Rosemary’s voice.  When he stopped and hesitated, she didn’t need a verbal answer from him. She walked over from where she was standing and placed her hand on his shoulder, turning him around.  “Robert.”

He bowed his head and wrapped his arms around the younger woman as tight as he could, and she did the same.  He began to cry on her shoulder, and it startled her, causing tears to form in her eyes.  She silently rubbed his back in comforting circles as sobs wracked Robert’s body. They stood there a long time before he quieted down, but even then, Rosemary refused to let him go, hugging him close to her.

He was her friend and she loved him dearly, so if he were dying, it would devastate her.  Robert made a move to pull back and she reluctantly let him go but held onto his arms with her hands to keep him close.  His red-rimmed eyes crushed the broken pieces of her heart.  He sighed.

“Rosie.”  He took a deep breath.  “I met with my doctor last week and I have stage four pancreatic cancer.  He only gave me a few months to live.”

“Oh Robert.”  The tears started up again and she threw her arms around him.  They cried together a second time and the sadness enveloped them. As she held him close, her tears made her voice rough.  “That’s what spurred this on, isn’t it?”

“Yes.  But you’re the only one to know right now.  I didn’t want to tell anyone else until you knew.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Well, for starters, this hug is pretty good.”  He chuckled a little bit.  “And get some of this stuff out of my house.  And then just be my friend until the end.”

“Always.”  She pulled back to look at him.  “But it will be a cold day in hell before that ugly ass monkey comes with me.”

The tension and sadness were broken, letting them laugh a bit through their tears.  They stepped apart and let themselves smile at each other.

“Let’s get lunch and come back to this stuff later.  It’s too nice of a day to miss out on the patio.”

Arrow - S8 E6 - Reset

Hey, look, it's Rene.  I forgot about Rene.  Happy times... I swear Quentin used to have hair once. Man, even in a happier alternate reality, security at the SCPD sucks.

A "Groundhog Day" scenario?  You know what, the second he bumped into the waitress at the party, I thought, "this seems like something they set up for him to do again later, but avoid.... nah....."   I also thought they were making a really overt display of a very specific time on the clock over Oliver's head. Here's hoping this time-loop episode is better than the one the Flash did last year with Nora. (Sigh) I love Groundhog Day, but it's actually a little sad and tiring that it's become the lone touchstone reference for such a premise.  I mean, don't get me wrong, it makes sense to use something that the most amount of people will be familiar with to summarize a concept like this, but you know what, SG1 didn't need that with "Window of Opportunity," TNG didn't need it for "Cause and Effect".  The next time loop episode I watch better have a character say, "do you mean like "Happy Death Day"?" - which, if you haven't seen it, is actually a pretty decent movie, as it's sequel (even the premise is a bit of a cheat and starts off in a direction with perhaps more promise.....) Okay, I get going back to the party the first time time repeats, if only to confirm that things really are happening the same way as last time, but why waste time going back the third time instead of going straight to the scene of where the bomb is going to be?  Why not have Laurel meet you there as soon as she comes to? Ooh, an Edge of Tomorrow reference.  Gotta be honest, I've heard of the movie, and based on the reference I could guess it involved a time-loop, but I've never seen it and had to look it up to be sure. Interesting that Earth-2 had "Edge of Tomorrow" or Dr. Phil for that matter.  But I guess seeing as how Laurel-2 spent time on Earth 1, she may have acquainted herself with Earth 1 pop culture. Now I'm wondering if Earth 2 does have an equivalent to Dr. Philip and if not Dr. Philip himself, who it might be.  Or was, seeing how it's gone. I'm going to assume it was Dr. Phil, but clean shaven and a full head of hair, because you know, opposite.  And I bet on Earth 2 he still has his license. "I pull off the short hair way better than you do." Eh, it's a draw.... I pondered this in an earlier episode this season - why the fuck does Laurel have a gun?  She's a meta with a sonic cry.  She is the gun. The "lesson" the Monitor is trying to teach Oliver doesn't make much sense.  I mean, what the fuck kind of lesson is, "sometimes you just gotta stop trying and give up and die"?  That's basically what this amounts to.  You can't call it Oliver's "fate" because we've already seen at least one version of the future where Oliver lived to be an old man.  Plus the implication of last year's crossover was that Oliver made some sort of deal with the Monitor to ensure Barry and Kara survive the Crisis; yet since late last season they seemed to have forgotten that part and acted like this is somehow Oliver's destiny.  But more importantly, shouldn't the quintessential trait of a hero be someone who, regardless of the insurmountable odds stacked against him, keeps trying?  I mean, yeah, if the circumstances are such that you're not walking out alive, it's going to be what it's going to be, but do you just walk straight into the gunfire or keep looking for a way through until you are out of options?  The former just doesn't seem logical, let alone the mentality you should expect from a larger than life hero. And on top of that, Oliver's not really the one coming to this conclusion; Quentin is - the guy who may or may not really be alive, but is ultimately a puppet for Oliver's benefit. And boy is Diggle getting the short end of the stick out of all this.  Apparently he's the most well adjusted out of the whole lot, which I guess is true, but it seems more like the writers couldn't figure out what to do with him in this plot, even though they consciously put him on the roof and got tranq'd along with the others; so instead they gave him the Jennifer Parker treatment. (Sign) This whole fucking season, for Arrow and The Flash, has just been fucking phoning it in waiting for Crisis; they should have just made the God damn crossover the premier episodes instead of dicking around trying to build up to it, because all they've done is waste a lot of airtime with stupid filler episodes.... Shock, gasp, they're on Lian Yu - I definitely didn't see that coming the instant Oliver and Laurel woke up on the cots.....