iselldrugstothecommunity | But Time Takes Time, You Know [Musebox]

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But Time Takes Time, You Know [Musebox]

It's hard to research things that haven't happened yet, Howard discovers. Rather than hitting the library, like he would have on Stacy, he has to spend a lot of time thinking, sitting around talking to Barbara about every detail he remembers of his family history. Every year that passes by, the memories get a little more obscure, a little less refined, and he starts to panic, thinking that he won't have enough information to track down his family at all soon.

Over endless cups of tea, Barbara asks questions ("do you remember your mother's maiden name? do you know where your father's parents were from before they came to California? do you remember what their professions were?") to try and drag out the useful information, but it ends up being a stray memory of a Christmas dinner that puts the pieces in place.

"My grandma has to be in San Francisco. They had a one year wedding anniversary ornament on the Christmas tree of the Golden Gate Bridge, and I'm pretty sure they got married in 1969."

What they were doing in San Francisco is beyond his knowledge, but it's the closest they have to a shot. He doesn't know what hospitals his parents were born in, or where his paternal grandparents might be now, or even what year his parents are going to meet. It takes a lot of agonizing before he decides to spend all that money he's been saving in a can under the sink on plane tickets for him and Barbara to go there, but when he invites her she agrees that it's important to him, and besides, how often does one get to vacation in America?

So they both have suitcases packed and a promise to be back in ten days, waiting for Ian in the kitchen to come drive them to the airport. Howard's nervous, naturally, because he's not sure how he'll introduce himself to total strangers as their grandkid from the future. But he's come to relax a bit - a bit - over the last few years, and as such he just chews his lip and bounces his leg a bit rather than panics. He even got six hours of sleep last night. It's truly a miracle.

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"I did not!" Ian defensively said down the telephone. Barbara merely laughed.

"We're going to get breakfast," she continued once the short, soft laughter had subsided, "I only wanted to check in and let you know we'd arrived safely. We'll be home in a week or so, I'll call you from the airport and let you know what time we get in. I love you."

Ian mirrored the farewell and hung up. Barbara listened to the dead line for a beat longer, then carefully put the receiver back on its cradle.

"Right. You mentioned breakfast?"

Howard doesn't say goodbye to Ian, and regrets that the moment the phone's put down, but he's not about to do a long distance call to do so. Next time they talk to Ian he well.

"Right! We're going to the wharf!" He claps his hands and grins. "Or we could do Chinatown. What do you feel like?"

"There's a Chinatown in London, so why don't you take me somewhere all-American?" Barbara tried her best American accent, but it even made her cringe with its awfulness.

Howard tries to cover his laughter and fails spectacularly. "Right. Wharf it is. I went there last night when you were sleeping."

He seems strangely energized today, in a way that's very uncharacteristic for him. Maybe it's the fact that he's surrounded by the sounds of voices that sound like his, Californian English, even if from a slightly different time. Maybe it's just sleep deprivation. Regardless, he looks more excited about things than he's been since he was helping plan Barbara's wedding.

"We can get chowder in sourdough bowls, we can see the seals, we can walk across the bridge." He'll pass on Alcatraz, thanks. "And anything you want to do, too."

"We can do all of those things." As Barbara saw it, this was Howard's holiday. She would do anything he wanted to do. Even if they stood entirely still until Howard came up with something.

They head down to the wharf in a cable car. Howard hangs a little bit outside it, taking in the sea air. At the very least, all the tourism is going to keep him from thinking too hard about meeting his grandparents tomorrow - he plans on staking out the bridge all day, waiting to see them.

When they get to the wharf, he buys them both chowder bowls, and they sit on the pier watching the seals while they eat them. He's chatty, explaining all the things that are different than the few memories of this place from his childhood. The 70's are a different time than the 2000's.

"I think this is good, I mean, this trip." He sounds a bit like he's convincing himself of this until he believes it. He kicks a small piece of trash into the water and finishes off his bread bowl. "For me. I mean, for us, since it's been a while since we done anything together. I mean, that's my fault, but."

He shrugs and stares out at Alcatraz.

"It's good for different reasons," Barbara replied, glancing at the side of his head. She looked out again at the water, and how it stretched all the way out to the horizon. "It's good that you're back here, back home. You can't tell me that England is somewhere you'd call home. Also it's good for us because we haven't spent time together for quite a while, no matter who is at fault.

"I'm happy that we're doing this."

"No, it's not. I keep wanting to call it home and it's just not." San Francisco isn't either, but it feels more similar - like new clothing in the right size, even if it isn't worn in yet. "I don't know what it is, if it's the accents or the customs or if it's just something else."

He reaches over and touches her arm, just to physically establish the connection. He knows it can't be easy having an errant kid around, or anyone you care about like that. And he feels like he can snap back into place with Ian over just a few hours of sitting around building things or fixing the car, but his bond with Barbara has always been much deeper.

"Would it kill you if I moved back here, in the long run?"

Her hand reached out to cover his, and she smiled at him. "I'd be lying if I said that I wouldn't miss you terribly, but I understand. And there's very little stopping us from visiting once a year or so.

"You're technically a grown man, and you can make your own decisions. If you want to live here, you can. We'll work everything out."

He doesn't really return the smile. "I just don't really know if I want to be here or if I don't really want to be anywhere, if that makes sense. Like I'm just running away looking for something that fits better. But I can always come back, right?"

He runs a hand over his hair. "I'd miss you too. And the time zone differences would mean I'd have to call you before lunch if I ever wanted to talk to you."

"You can always come back whenever you want. Whether you're coming back to here, to coming back to England. You're welcome to do so, and Ian and I will help in anyway we can. You know that." She felt the need to remind him, even though it was something she had always stated.

"At least there's the possibility to calling one another. Would be worse if there wasn't."

"Someone has to be around to remind you how lucky you are to have a normal kid." He's joking, but there's a grain of seriousness there. He's both hoping and dreading that John might end up being a nutter too. Hoping because it would make him not alone, dreading because he seriously wouldn't wish that on Barbara - he's sure at least a few gray hairs are his fault.

And he can always do with the reminder. To tell the truth, it's a terrifying idea, the one of moving so far away from Ian and Barbara that he can't just pedal over there in the middle of the night to make sure they're still there. He doesn't spy on them often anymore, partially because he's finally realized that's kind of weird, but he takes comfort knowing that he can. He can check on them, even if he doesn't mean to.

"In my day we have email. And cell phones," he pouts. He points at the bridge. "That's where we're waiting tomorrow."

Although Barbara knew what 'email' was, and had a vague idea of what a 'cell phone' was, she didn't question it. Instead she looked to the bridge.

"All you'll need to do is give me the signal and I'll leave you to it when you see them."

"Who said I don't want you around?"

"I'm only assuming that you'd want some time and space to talk with your grandparents. I can stay if you'd prefer." Barbara didn't mind either way, she was happy to do as Howard wanted.

"I don't know. Maybe we should come up with some sort of bird call so if it starts going south, you can come bail me out." Clearly he's going into this with a winning attitude.

"I'll be watching," she smiled, "even if it's from a few yards away, and I'm certain that on a place so busy as the bridge that it wouldn't be able to go too far south. The masses of people around you may not let it."

"I'm not meaning getting into a fight, or anything. I just mean..." He shrugs. He doesn't know what he wants from his grandparents so he doesn't know what 'going badly' really means. "I never thought I'd see anyone from my biological family again."

It feels weird, still, quantifying them as his biological family rather than just 'family' outright.

"You do have a distinct look when you're uncomfortable, or worried," she told him, putting aside the wrappings from her finished meal. "I can always subtly come back when I think you need help, or when you might want to leave. But if you want me by your side, I can do that, too. Whatever you would like, Howard."

"'Kay." He gives her hand a squeeze. "Thanks."

They spend the rest of the day wandering around the pier and the park near the science museum. The jet lag gets to them early, and they call it a night after a burger joint dinner at 7pm. Howard seems distracted, and that's largely because he's exhausted and worried, but he's still appreciating the trip.

He manages to fall asleep in the hotel before Barbara, while she's making a good morning call to Ian, and dozes off with his fingers crossed. Tomorrow's a day of reckoning, for him.

Barbara was sleep soon after. Once she'd made certain that both Ian and John were safe and happy, sleep came easily. It was the waking which hurt.

Although Barbara slept deeply, and well, waking up was difficult. She wanted to continue sleeping for the rest of the day, but she had to get up. Her body ached in protest but she managed to sit up in bed at least.

Her first thought: where was Howard?

Pacing through the hotel hallways, waiting for the continental breakfast to open up. He's already eaten his way through the mini-fridge. He checks on Barbara approximately every fifteen minutes, which includes now.

"Morning, sleepyhead. You need coffee?" He sounds chipper despite the shake in his voice.

"A cup of coffee might be a good idea," she replied but barely paused to let him go and get the coffee, "how are you feeling?"

He considers lying to her and saying he feels fine - after all, it's what he does when they're back in England, pretend things are better than they are. But having seen the impact that talking about his hospital visit had on her, he decides she'll probably see through any lies.

"Terrified. But ready. I'm pretty sure I'm ready." There's one of those small Folger coffeemakers in their room, and he starts it up. "I'm like...zen. Zen in terror."

Barbara was happy that he'd chosen to to be truthful rather than covering up how he felt. "That's understandable, but at least it shows just how much you care about the situation."

She got up and scratched the side of her head where the bedhair was at its worst. Howard was in her special circle where she could look awful with her unbrushed hair and it didn't matter. Only her parents in law, siblings in law, Ian and her don occupied that circle these days. Howard was very special indeed.

"What time did you want to head out?" she asked, bow standing by his side.

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