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  Back To Your Heart 
 by Corky  

 Back to Your Heart: Murdock's Story 

 To say we'd both agreed to put things on hold would be a lie; the biggest
lie either one of us ever told to be honest with ya. Things had been going
downhill for awhile, but never had I thought they'd gotten bad enough to
call it quits. Every relationship has its ups and downs though, right? I
mean, even my grandparents would have blowouts that would end in a door
getting slammed so hard it shook the house. I guess these fights were
different though; these weren't just disagreements on how a child should
be raised or if he should have to go to bed hungry for mouthin' off just
once. Actually, come to think about it, half of our fights I don't even
remember. I just remember the anger that would fill the air; the tension
that'd become so thick it had to be cut with a chainsaw as soon as we were
in the same room together. 

 It'd been Temp's idea to put things on hold. I knew it was coming though,
there's something about the silence that can sometimes tell more than any
spoken words. None of us had been the same when the Colonel died. 

 I'd been the only one to know Hannibal was even sick, lung cancer from
all those years of puffin' away at cigars; I'd been the only one to know
all the Colonel's old secrets and how he'd felt about all of us. Hannibal
had sworn me not to tell the others, not that he was sick and not that in
all his life we were the only three people in the world he truly felt were
family, or that no matter what he'd said or done in the past, he was so
truly proud of us all. He wasn't just our CO and fearless leader, he'd
become so much more than that. Hell, he was the closest thing to a father
the three of us bastard boys had. Face had always been so close to the
Colonel though, especially over in Nam, so I can understand why he'd be so
upset with me for not telling but, I mean, He might have been my partner,
but Hannibal still outranked him. 

 So when that silence filled the living room after our last big fight,
both of us standing there staring at each other like strangers, I knew it
was done. All of our jokes, our laughter and smiles, the adventures and
fights, the nights of heated passion, the tender caresses, all of it was
being thrown out the window. We'd been through so much, so very much:
`Nam, POW camps, VA Psych escapes, running from the MPs, near deaths.
Despite it all though, we always knew that the other was there to lean on
and comfort. 

 I'd tried to stop him, to tell him things weren't as bad as he was trying
to make them seem and surely all our good times together should be enough
to outweigh the bad, but it didn't work. Instead, I got asked to leave.
Which was fair enough I mean, it was Temp's apartment, so he had every
right to ask me to leave, but the fact that he knew I had nowhere else to
stay told me that the guy I'd fallen hopelessly in love with all those
years ago was gone. 

 The days, weeks, months that passed without him were the hardest of my
life. I'd lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what he was doing;
who he was with, if he was actually happier and better off without me.
There wasn't a doubt in my mind that he'd found someone else already,
probably some young beautiful blond with no brains but all body. He never
could say no to a ditzy blond wanting to hop into bed with him. I knew
he'd do it, he didn't have to hide it; I knew he'd go out and find a girl
to sleep with from time to time but in the end, he'd always come home to
me. 

 I ran into him nearly a year after I got politely kicked out. He'd
changed, probably for the better but that didn't mean I liked it. He was
back to wearing his fancy suits and shoes, hair never out of place for
even a second. I even got to meet his beautiful fianc, who was not only
beautiful but incredibly smart, insanely rich and worst of all very, very
pregnant. He'd finally gotten everything he'd ever wanted; money,
security, a family to call his own, all the things he'd tried to get when
he was with me but I'd go and mess up every time. He was right about me; I
was too much of a child, hiding my true emotions behind a cloak of
insanity and childish games. 

 Stephanie was nice enough and if she could make him smile again, then I
was happy for them...even if my entire world was crumbling down around me.
So much for just "taking a break from each other." He had everything, I
had memories. They did at least invite me to the wedding, and ask me to be
the baby's Godfather. Steph even offered me a job at her dad's business
alongside Temp. He'd be my supervisor but I didn't care. It was a job, a
steady source of income and that was all I was after. I hardly ever even
saw him. I was, once again, the blue collar grunt while he was the
sophisticated one, the cameraman to his reporter--just like old times. 

 I was there when they got married, not as Best man or even a Groomsmen,
but in the pew watching on, the last little shard of my heart breaking
painfully. Of course it was a perfect little wedding, nothing even hinting
at going wrong, but then, Temp wouldn't have allowed anything to go wrong.
I wasn't exactly the first to know when Abigail Louise Montgomery-Peck was
born, but I was the first "non-family member" to get to hold her. Even his
daughter came out looking perfect, not a fuzzy little tuff of hair out of
place. 

 The chances of getting him back were so slim they weren't even visible.
Why would he take me back? I barely had money to rent my little apartment,
buy food, or get all the fancy things he was used to. Besides, what could
I possibly have to offer him that was greater than what he'd gotten used
to having?

 Call me a home wrecker or selfish bastard, but I tried anyways. Tried
talking to him, bought him little gifts that used to bring a schoolboy
grin to his face, left notes that wouldn't mean anything to anyone else
but him, anything I could think of that could make him remember how great
we used to be together. For a bit there I'd thought maybe it had worked.
He'd cornered me one night after work, that glimmer in his gorgeous blues
that would always appear just before he'd playfully jump me. I stood there
waiting for it, my heart beating a mile a second, feet feeling like they
were ready to lift off the floor. Instead of being tackled though and
showered in hot, needy kisses, he once again "kindly" asked me to stay
away and stop leaving things for him.

 All I wanted was to be with him. He was all I ever needed or wanted in
life. For years, he'd been the only reason I'd even bother getting out of
bed. All my hopes that I'd one day get over my PTSD, that the night
terrors would end, had all been because of Temp. A year and a half after
the incident in the living room, I still can't get over him. I don't want
to get over him cuz if I do then that means things really are over and
I'll never get him back. So long as I hold onto a tiny shred of hope, the
last shred of hope I've got left, then maybe there's still a chance I can
work my way back into his heart...

 MFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMF

 Part Two. I Don't Wanna Fight: Face's Story

 Do I miss him? Of course I miss him. I miss him every minute of every
day. Everything about him, I miss. Well, almost everything. The things I
don't miss are what led me to hating him. Some people would say that
there's a love so strong and so deep that it could make a person want to
just beat the snot out of the one they love, but to me, that's not love in
the very least. And what I had started to feel towards Murdock was more
frustration, aggravation and disgust than anything else. 

 It was those little quirks that used to be so cute, so uniquely Murdock
that made him absolutely irresistible that began to be his downfall. The
fact he had a difficult time dealing with reality was fine when he was
still in the VA, it was ok and acceptable for him to have imaginary pets
and random personality switches. Those things just aren't generally smiled
on in the real world, ya know? Oh sure he could be serious from time to
time, but there was more to it than just that. No matter how hard he
tried, he never could keep a job once he got released from the hospital.
Dog catcher, sewer worker, waiter, turkey tender, Bison Scouts leader,
cook, boxer shorts inspector, fortune cookie writer, tour guide...the list
went on and on. And there was always an excuse for the change in "career";
and to him each excuse was a valid and reasonable one. To me, they were
just plain and simple excuses. 

 The only thing he'd ever had as a stable career was the
Army--flying--that alone had gotten him through college and had supported
him for the first few years of early adulthood. He couldn't fly anymore
though; FAA has rules and regulations on that sort of thing. Psyche
evaluations, background checks, all kind of things a former resident of
the Veteran's Administration Psychiatric Hospital couldn't pass. I knew it
had broken his heart when he kept getting rejected on his application to
have his pilot's license reinstated, and I'd been there to help him get
through it. Then through all those dead end jobs; one right after the
other. 

 It was when we got our names cleared that things started getting a little
bit tense. Oh don't get me wrong, we had our great times together--plenty
of them actually--but the good doesn't always outweigh the bad. When
Hannibal got sick though, and Murdock was the only one to know about it
and chose not to tell me or BA, that's when things got worse. Our
arguments became full-on yelling matches over some of the stupidest
things: phone messages never received, sneakers left in the living room,
half-finished glasses of water just left sitting on the counter, falling
asleep on the couch with the television still on. 

 Was it my idea that we take a break from each other for awhile? Yes. But
then again, I was always the "villain" of our relationship, so of course
it wasn't going to be Murdock's idea. Forever the wide-eyed innocent, he
always wanted to try and work things out, keep the fire burning when there
was nothing left to burn. He was the type of guy who always saw the gray
cloud and knew there was rainbow on the other side; I saw the gray cloud
and knew that any minute a flood or tornado could destroy everything.
Pessimistic? I wouldn't say that. More of a realist, and it drove him up
the wall. So yes, I was the one who threw in the towel before things got
any worse and I hurt him anymore than I already had. 

 It was low of me to kick him out when he didn't have any where else to
stay and I admit that, but at the time I didn't care. I just wanted him
out before I'd look into those deep, pain-filled brown eyes and changed my
mind again. That was one of the things I'd grown to hate; those damn brown
eyes that could suck you right in and filled with such powerful emotions
it was impossible to look away. So, I kicked him out and didn't look back;
couldn't look back. 

 The nights were the hardest to get through without him. The way he'd
snuggle into the blankets, slightly curled up on his side, one arm stuffed
under the pillow, nose nuzzling against my shoulder ever so slightly in
his sleep. Or the nights where he'd cling to me, trembling and scared
because the nightmares had returned to haunt him again. He'd even held me
on a few occasions when my own dreams became too much to bear. Still, I
learned to get by without him, just like he'd have to learn to get by
without me.

 I hadn't meant for him to ever meet Stephanie and truth be told, I'd
never really meant to ever even stay with her. A few dates, a couple of
good times and then that was going to be that. When she told me she was
pregnant though, and that her father would disown her if he found out her
deadbeat, ex-con, ex-boyfriend was the father, I had to help her out. So,
I said the baby was mine. We both knew that I wasn't interested in
anything permanent, but still we both soon found ourselves planning a
wedding just to keep her father happy. And with her father happy, it meant
Stephanie wouldn't get written out of his very well-to-do will, and I'd
get to keep my cushy job. Of course, it also meant I had to continue to
pretend to be happy and insanely in love; even when Murdock got hired on
and started leaving things for me to find. 

 Before I knew it, I was standing at the altar saying vows I didn't
believe, while those brown eyes looked on in heartache. A relationship and
marriage built on lies, lies that just kept growing and growing. Steph
knew I batted for both teams, and more importantly she knew my heart
really only belonged to one person and it wasn't her. She was ok with it,
if you can believe that. But still, we continued our fantasy world. Abby
was born and she was absolutely gorgeous, but she looked nothing like me.
Dark hair and eyes, like her mother, but her skin was a nice, dark natural
tan color like her father. My tan skin was anything but naturally that
color. There wasn't anything to hint that she was my daughter and yet,
Murdock still believed it. 

 It hurt me when Murdock started leaving things for me to find--trinkets,
Happy Meal toys and little notes. It proved that he did still love me and
wanted to have me back. I was in too deep though with Steph. If I suddenly
just went running back to his arms and kissed the daylights out of him
like I'd wanted to do, people would get suspicious. Instead, I put on my
best conman face and cornered him after work. The way he'd back up against
that wall, the hope and want shining bright in those eyes made me want to
tackle him and blow his mind with the most passionate kiss ever, but I
knew I couldn't. So what'd I do? I told him to leave me alone. To stay
away from me and just stop trying to get me back because it wasn't going
to work. I was spoken for, married even, with a baby and a home and proper
bills that needed paying every month. 

 My heart shattered into a thousand little pieces when I saw how my words
cut into him, slicing away at what little hope he'd managed to hold onto.
If I could take him back, I would in a heartbeat--a nanosecond even. I
can't though. If I do, the fights are just going to start up again. No,
not right away, mind you, but they will start and then we'll be right
where we left off again. Still, I find myself longing for his touch at
night, to have him sneak into the shower with me in the morning while I'm
getting ready for work. If I could have the good times without the bad,
I'd take them. But, that's not possible. Do I want to hold him? Kiss him?
Make love with him? Absolutely. What I really don't want, is to fight
anymore...

 MFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMFMF

 Part Three. Together Again: Epilogue

 A year. Had it really been a whole year since the last time Face had
cornered him and all but demanded he be left alone? It was hard to believe
that it was true, but there he stood, a year to the day, staring up at the
office window where Templeton Peck was sitting pretty and enjoying his
life of luxury. Enjoying a life that he, HM Murdock, wished so badly he
could be a part of. He wasn't even sure any more if he was still Abby's
Godfather or not. 

 Murdock had been working so hard to make it through his meaningless life
without Temp. His apartment looked as though any responsible adult lived
in it; a place for everything and everything in its place. Sure he had the
occasional model airplane sitting around, but they were displays only and
set up on handmade exhibit platforms. No more magazines scattered around
the place, the dishes always done and put away, there was suddenly a
decent mix of plain and graphic T-shirts along with a few Polo's and his
own dress shirts, he even folded his own laundry and put them in their
proper places. He'd done everything Temp had always wanted him to do when
they were together but never bothered with. 

 He'd even found a better paying job. All that was left to do was go up
there and hand in his letter of resignation, give his two weeks' notice
and walk away. He was an adult now after all, wasn't that what Face was
always fighting with him about? He was an adult and needed to start acting
like one? 

 Thirty-seven stairs separated him from the office above. No, he'd never
climbed them before, but he'd counted them each time he saw Face emerge
from his solitude and start down them. Each stair, each spring to that
step that was so innately Templeton Peck. 

 Taking a deep breath and gathering his courage, his feet started up that
path. One, two, three... his mind counted as he watched the cold metal
steps, reinforced grates in his opinion, moved under him. It was going to
be hard going back to a life where he never saw Face again, but after two
and a half years, he knew in his heart he'd never be getting the former
conman back. It really was time to move on. Twenty-nine, thirty,
thirty-one...

 Murdock could feel the tears forming in his eyes. If he could just get
one more chance with Temp, one more chance to prove he could be an adult
and that he'd changed--changed for him--then maybe it would convince the
man that this time things would be different. He needed the old
Lieutenant, sometimes he thought he needed him too much. The support, the
love, the gentle caresses that let him know everything was going to be
alright. All the nights of laughter and love, the hours spent exploring
each other, not just physically but mentally--emotionally. Knowing each
other inside and out like no other person ever did or ever would. The
secrets shared and painful childhood scars reopened and mended with love
and understanding. How could those times just be tossed aside like last
months' Batman comic? 

 Thirty-five, thirty-six... His foot paused above that last step. Heart
pounding in his ears, he could feel his palms begin to sweat. There was a
falter in his courage. It'd been months since the last time he'd even
caught a glimpse of the blonde. Part of him told him to turn around and
start back down those stairs, leave the letter under his door once he'd
gone home for the day. He couldn't do that though, not if he was a
responsible adult now. Thirty-seven... 

 Stepping up to the door, he paused as he reached for the doorknob.
Checking his reflection in the glass, he sighed. No more blue ballcap, his
thinning brown hair washed and combed nicely forward, his bangs mimicking
the coif Face's hair had been known for. The worn leather flight jacket
long ago hung reverently in the closet for safe-keeping, replaced instead
with a fresh white button up shirt--tucked expertly into the pair of blue
jeans that had taken the place of his khakis. It was sad how he hardly
even recognized his own reflection, this is what Temp always wanted
though...

 Knocking a couple of time, he slowly turned the knob. What should he even
call him? Mr. Peck? Temp? Templeton? Faceman was probably out of the
question, who would call their boss by an old nickname? The door was
opening before he could think about it any further and his feet were
moving into the room almost as if they had a mind of their own. It was now
or never.

 "Look, George, I told you I'd have those numbers ready for you to look
over in about an hour. It's been barely twenty minutes." A familiar voice
called from a side room. 

 Murdock gulped hard as he looked around the room; a room that couldn't
possibly belong to the OCD impaired former Lieutenant. Magazines littered
the floor, stacks of papers covered every available flat spot, and
clothes--clothes--were draped over the chairs and back of the couch. To
look at it, it'd look like the man had been living out of his office for
months. This couldn't be the office of Templeton Peck; it looked more like
Murdock's apartment used to than anything. 

 Stepping further into the room, the Texan's eyes scanned the area
carefully. A suitcase was tucked under a table across the room, hiding the
blanket and pillow also stuffed under there. He'd always known Face could
be a workaholic when he set his mind to something, but this was all just a
bit too much.

 "F-Facey?" The word was out before he had a chance to stop it. Murdock
cringed as he heard the gentle clank from the side room, as if a plastic
razor were falling into a sink. Silence filled the room, the awkward kind
of silence, the white elephant in the room. He could kick himself for
being the one to cause that awkwardness again. Even through the change he
couldn't help being the one who made things uneasy between them. 

 "Uh...I...I mean Temp. I, I just..." 

 "Murdock?"

 He hadn't even seen Face emerge from the side room, dobs of shaving cream
still clinging to his chin. The old Murdock wouldn't have been able to
resist making a joke about how Face suddenly looked like a lawn gnome, all
he needed was the little pointy hat and ears and they'd be able to set him
out on the front yard to greet visitors. He didn't though. Hell, he'd
hardly even noticed the shaving cream. All he saw were those shining blue
eyes staring back at him, the confusion there mixed with the sadness and
longing. Of course, those last two might just have been the Captain's
imagination. After all, why would Face be sad or look at him longingly? 

 The silence stretched out between them for what seemed like forever, two
beings time locked where they stood, staring at each other like a couple
of long lost lovers. Face hadn't changed in the least. Still just as
gorgeous as he'd always been with dark blue-grey eyes still shining
bright, body just as muscular and taken care of as Murdock remembered.
Only the dark blonde locks had changed. Void of any product and having
lost its coif, it hung down in his eyes like he were a shaggy surfer bum.
His fingers itched to reach up and brush those bangs from his eyes, to
feel the silky softness run over his skin just one more time.

 Murdock's eyes were first to break the spell, quickly darting to a point
on the floor that had quite suddenly become the most interesting spot in
the whole world. Was that actually an aviation magazine he saw partially
buried under last months' edition of People? Face hated it when he left
his airplane magazines just lying around like that. 

 "Uhm...sorry about the mess, I..." Face paused to clear his throat as he
quickly moved to pull on a slightly wrinkled blue shirt, not even
bothering to tuck it in much less finish buttoning it all the way. 

 "You look really...uh..."

 Murdock gulped, his heart racing faster than he ever thought possible.
For once it was Face who had a lack of words problem. It was Face who was
flustered and trying to scramble about to clean things up a little and
make the office/bedroom look a bit more presentable. Face, the man who was
cool even under the toughest pressure, was flustered and awkward. 

 "It's alright with me, Temp. You know I don't mind the mess. Just, kind
of surprisin' seein' your office for the first time and it lookin' like
this. I didn't know you had my clone livin' in here." A joke, an honest to
goodness, Old Murdockian joke. A joke that even received a small chuckle
and smile from the other man. God how he missed that smile and the sound
of that laugh. 

 "Yeah well, they say everyone has a twin somewhere. Guess yours has been
coming in and messing up the place when I haven't been looking." 

 "You should set up motion detectors then. Infrared cameras at night, ya
know? Catch him in the act. Powder sugar in the doorway."

 "I thought it was flour?"

 "That's for catching ghosts. To catch a Murdock you gotta use powder
sugar. C'mon Face, you know we Murdocks are attracted to sweets."

 Another laugh, a real laugh followed by a real smile. They only lasted
for a moment, but Murdock saw them, and for a just a little bit, things
were back the way they used to be. There was no tension in the air between
them. They were Face and Murdock, two best friends turned lovers, standing
around and talking absolute nonsense together.

 All too soon though, the laughter and smile and lightness was gone. The
tension slowly settling back in around them. 

 "Yeah...yeah I guess I...I must have forgotten," 

 "It happens," 

 Silence. That old familiar silence that fell between them as Face
continued to pick up magazines off the floor and struggled to straighten
the papers on the desk. Murdock watched as the man moved about the room,
doing everything in his power to keep from looking at the once-upon-a-time
pilot. God but he still looked gorgeous, still moved with a grace only
known to a man who spent most of his life ducking and covering. 

 "Oh, uh, here. There's a really great article in there about a World War
II bomber some divers found off the coast of Spain. Gonna bring it back to
surface and put it in a museum in London." Face finally said, breaking the
silence as he handed a worn out magazine Murdock's way. The cover was
dog-eared, as were a few pages inside, and there were a couple of tears in
the binding but to Murdock, it was like gold. Face had been reading
aviation magazines, even finding articles he thought the Texan would
enjoy. 

 "Thanks, Fa-Temp." Carefully, he rolled the magazine and tucked it into
his back pocket. Brown eyes once again scanning the room, Murdock soon
found himself moving to stand closer to Face's desk, his mouth opening to
ask questions he had no place to be asking. 

 "Temp? What happened? It looks like you've been living outta a suitcase
for months. Is everything ok?"

 Face paused, his hand hovering over a picture frame he had every
intention of lying flat so his former lover couldn't see. Instead, those
blue eyes looked down to the picture, stared at the loving brown eyes
smiling back at him and felt his guard beginning to fall. Layer by layer. 

 "I have been." He answered softly. "I've been staying here for the past
eight months. Just temporary. Steph's father isn't doing well and, well,
we're playing nice just until after he goes. She uh...she's promised to
pay me a percentage of what he leaves her. Ya know, as payment for playing
house the past couple of years. Once he's gone, we can get things taken
care of and I'll be back out on my own."

 Turning, Face saw the look of confusion in Murdock's eyes and had to
quickly look away. Those sad, confused brown eyes would pull him in and
there'd be no turning back.

 "It's alright though. I've got a very comfortable couch, there's a TV in
the break room, I can have my meals delivered at night, plenty of quarters
for the laundry mat down the street. It's nice. Makes me feel like I'm
back in college again."

 "What about the apartment?"

 "Subletting it. It's still mine, my stuff's still there and taken care
of. The guy living there now knows that he has to keep on the lookout for
a more permanent place for when I want it back."

 Letter of resignation and two weeks' notice forgotten, Murdock moved
closer to the desk. His hand reached for Face's shoulder, wanting to touch
him, to hold him and bring him back home where he belonged. It faltered
though just short of making contact, hovered in the air over the man's
shoulder like an invisible force field was keeping it away. His brown eyes
gazed at the man's face for a long moment before trailing down his neck,
the neck he used to nuzzle and nip at playfully to get attention; down
those shoulders and arms, arms that used to wrap so protectively around
him and hold him close to chase away the monsters; down to the hand still
hovering over the picture frame. 

 There, staring back at him, was a pair of smiling faces. So happy, so in
love. Hair tussled in the ocean breeze, eyes bright and sparkling in the
sunlight, heads touching ever so slightly. Their bodies leaning into the
other to make sure they both got into the frame. That obnoxious purple
Hawaiian shirt, with the red birds and blue-green leaves perfectly
clashing against the fancy blue sports coat of the man next to him. The
silly Polaroid snapshot taken on the beach in Miami so many years ago. A
picture stolen in a quiet moment between the two of them as they sat
hiding in the shade of the lifeguard tower. 

 "Why...why didn't you say anything? You...I mean...I've got my own place,
you coulda crashed at my place. Couch ain't that comfy but...the bed sure
is. And awfully big for just little ol' me. I--"

 "Murdock, stop. We can't...this can't happen." Face's voice trembled even
as the words left his mouth. He didn't believe them any more than Murdock
did. If he truly did believe them, then he wouldn't have reminders of the
pilot everywhere. The mess, the magazines, the picture Murdock had long
since forgotten all about.

 "Why not? Facey...I...I've changed. I mean, look at me. Have you ever
known me to be without my hat? Or my jacket? Hell, I don't even own a pair
of Converse anymore. Not since my last pair wore out. I cook, I
clean...I...I even housebroke Billy! I've held this job longer than a
couple of weeks. I...I've...I grew up. Just like you wanted me to. I grew
up cause of you. `Cause I wanted to be the kind of person you always
wanted me to be so that maybe...maybe you'd see that I'm not just a goof
anymore and...and you'd come back to me." His voice was frantic, pleading
and begging. How could be prove to Face that things would be different?

 He could see Face's shoulders tremble at the tone in his voice. A tremble
that marked the struggle to hide his true emotions, to bring up that
conman front that could smile his way out of anything even when he was
breaking inside. 

 "Murdock...people don't just change like that--"

 "Yes they do, Face! They do! I mean, look at you! This place looks like a
tornado went through it, back up and went through it again. Your hair
looks like it hasn't had product in it for months and...and look at your
shirt! Old Faceman would be pitchin' a fit over the fact his shirt got all
wrinkled like that. And you didn't even bother to tuck it in or...or wipe
away that little gnome beard you've got goin' on with shaving cream." 

 Ducking his head, Face brought his sleeve up, quickly wiping away the
remaining white soap. An act that brought a triumphant laugh from Murdock.


 "See? Old Face wouldn't dream of wiping that gunk off on his pretty blue
shirt. You've changed, Faceman. And if you can change than so can I. And I
have. I swear to you I have. Please just...just give me another chance?
You'll see."

 "Murdock..."

 "No...Face. I can't make it without you. I've been trying but...but I
just can't." Tears threatened to fall from his desperate brown eyes as he
moved to stand in front of the man. He had to see those eyes. To have Face
look him in the eyes and see the truth there. 

 "Temp'ton, I look at myself in the mirror and I hate what I see `cause I
know it was me that made you go away. I was the reason you were always mad
and we always fought. I was wrong. I know I was. But...don't you think
people deserve a second chance? God I wish you'd give me one because at
this point I don't think I could make it too much longer without you in my
life."

 Face dared not look into those eyes. Even though he wanted nothing more
than to pull the man into his arms and kiss away those unshed tears, to
laugh and tell him how silly he looks in those blue jeans and dress shirt,
to take him home and slip him into something far more comfortable...like a
set of sheets. He just couldn't. His foolish pride just wouldn't let him
do it.

 "Murdock, we can't. Because if we do we'll just slip back into our old
ways and we'll be back to fighting in no time." 

 "You don't know that though! And besides...even if we did...Oscar and
Felix made it work!"

 A moment of confusion flashed through Face's blue eyes. 

 "Oscar and Felix?"

 "The Odd Couple. One was a slob the other a neat freak? But they made it
work! So could we if you'd just please, please give me another chance.
It's obvious you still have feelings for me or you wouldn't have that
picture sitting on your desk where you can see it every day.
Face...Templeton...please."

 It was rare, oh so very rare, for Murdock to call Face by his full first
name. That Southern drawl always seemed to get in the way of the "le" in
the middle, so the Texan had started just leaving it out all together.
Shortening it to the pet name "Temp'ton" instead, leaving the most
difficult part for when he was truly desperate. 

 Face could feel his chest tightening, his eyes slowly rising to meet with
the other mans. Those dark brown eyes shining with tears made tears of his
own form. Hadn't he hurt the pilot enough? Why did he have to continue
hurting him? Maybe things could be different. Maybe they'd stay the same
as they'd always been. In the end though, wasn't the risk worth it? Wasn't
it worth it to be held in those arms again and to have that soft, gentle
voice murmur his name into his ear during those moments of passion? To be
together again?

 "We...we can't just go back to living together again, HM. Too much time
has passed. We'd have to take things slow. Have our own places."

 Light and life suddenly sprang to Murdock's eyes. The words he'd been
longing to hear for so long were finally spoken. It was almost impossible
to believe. Face was giving the green light for them to try again. And
this time he wasn't going to mess things up. There was no way he was going
to let history repeat itself. 

 "That...that's fine. I understand. So...wait, does that mean I'd get to
be dating you? Like honest to goodness, romantic dinners, strolls on the
beach in the moonlight dating you? Sit in the back of a movie theater
making out like teenagers dating?"

 Another laugh! A smile that could light up the darkest nights! He'd made
his Lieutenant laugh and smile again and this time there was no sudden
silence or tension to ruin the moment. He'd done it!

 "Why don't we just start off with a nice dinner somewhere and go from
there, ok buddy?"

 "Dinner! Dinner's great! I like dinner! Oh, and I know about this really
great French place in Malibu. Supposed to have the greatest calamari
around." A wide grin was plastered to his face, the excitement and joy
returning to his voice. 

 Chuckling and shaking his head, Face moved about the office, flipping off
lights and picking his things up from the chairs and couch. "I told you
about that place and you hate calamari. Why don't we just go to Master
Yung's across town? I could really go for some Chinese food tonight."

 "Chinese is good. I like Chinese. You driving?"

 "I can. Hey, what'd you come up here for anyways?" Face paused as he
reached for the doorknob and turned back to look into those eyes again.
Those eyes that were the same bright, joyful eyes as the ones forever
captured in the photograph on his desk. 

 Murdock froze for a moment, caught off guard by the question and honestly
forgetting why he'd come up. Until he felt the letter still folded nicely
and tucked away in his other back pocket. Reaching behind him to feel for
it, he stopped. A soft lopsided grin rolled across his face as he looked
back up and shook his head.

 "Nothin'. No reason. Hey, did you know that the Chinese actually invented
pasta and pizza? Marco Polo stole it and took it back to Italy. Do you
think he's who they named the sport of Polo after? Probably the shirts
anyways. I hear he was one snazzy dresser. Kinda like you!"

 That old familiar laugh and eye roll signaled the end of questioning.
Maybe someday Murdock would tell him what he'd really been doing coming up
to see him. Just not right away. As for that better paying job? Well,
they'd just have to find someone else to teach their flight ground school.
He had more important matters to tend to before he could even consider
leaving his job and Face again.

 ~*~*~

 FINI!	
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