The sunset over L.A. was one of the more breathtaking ones Face had witnessed. He tried to see the sunset as often as he could since he'd returned from Vietnam. Tonight, he watched it from the roof of the high-rise hotel B.A. was currently living in. When Hannibal and Murdock had gone out to get a pizza and B.A. had run down to the van, Face sneaked up to the roof to be alone. He'd found a comfortable spot and settled down as the sun began to set.

A bottle of sherry sat next to him on the ground, the cork forced out of it. Face reached for the bottle and took a long sip from it. He usually preferred a glass, but when one pilfers sherry from B.A.'s kitchen, one never stops to find a glass. He closed his eyes and took in the dryness of the sherry.

As the sky continued to redden and get darker, Face took a long drag from the lit cigar in his other hand, and reflected on their last case.

The team was low on funds, and they all knew it. He'd been the first to pipe up about not getting shortchanged on this job - they needed the money, damn it. He was all for it, too, until he went to help Mrs. Hicks in the kitchen.

"A nice boy like you, with no one to send you cookies."

It was a punch in the gut. This woman and her husband were willing to give up everything she owned to get her son home safely. Face decided right there in that kitchen that he couldn't let them do it.

Footsteps behind him instantly brought his hand up to the gun at his side.

"Face."

His hand dropped.

"How'd you find me?"

"You're a creature of habit... and B.A. knows you took his bottle of Sherry."

Face cringed. B.A. would definitely pound him for stealing from him.

"Would you like some company?"

"Hannibal-"

Face stopped talking when Hannibal sat down next to him.

"What's eating you, kid?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying to me. It's a pretty big "something" for you to risk your life to steal from B.A."

Face sighed in frustration.

"In the kitchen, when I was helping Mrs. Hicks clean up the broken dishes... she asked me if my mother ever sent me cookies."

"Oh."

"She told me all about her son... how she used to send him care packages while he was in 'Nam."

Hannibal held out his hand. Face instinctively put a cigar in it. Hannibal bit off the tip and lit it, taking a long drag.

"Do you remember the day we met?"

Face looked up at Hannibal for the first time since his C.O. joined him on the roof.

"What?"

"In 'Nam. It was mail day."

Vietnam, 1969

Hannibal made his way to the mess tent. He'd received a letter in her stationery, as usual, but this time, she hadn't written a return address. He had a feeling he should probably be alone when he opened it.

The mess was silent when he walked in, but he wasn't alone. A young man was sitting alone on the far end, drinking coffee.

Hannibal sat down and opened up the letter. He read it quickly, and stuffed it back into the envelope. He got up and made his way toward the coffee station. It was always left out for the soldiers to use, day or night. He tore open a packet of instant coffee and mixed it up with the lukewarm water in the dispenser. He threw the envelope in his hand into the garbage below the table, and turned around, stirring his coffee. He nearly bumped into the other soldier, who'd come forward for another cup.

"I'm sorry about that," Hannibal said, reaching for a napkin.

"It's fine."

Hannibal stepped to the side and let the young soldier step forward.

"I don't believe we've met yet, soldier," Hannibal said. "You just arrive?"

The kid looked up at him as he stirred his own coffee. He looked young - about twenty or twenty-one, at Hannibal's guess.

"Sergeant Templeton Peck, Sir. I just arrived on base this afternoon."

"Who's your CO?"

"What's it to you?" Peck snapped at him. He quickly realized his error. "I'm sorry, Sir."

"You're forgiven, Sergeant."

"My C.O. is Colonel Smith," Peck said meekly, embarrassed that he'd talked back to a superior officer.

Hannibal grinned wildly, and Peck looked at him like he had six heads.

"Nice to meet you, Sergeant. Name's Colonel John Smith. You can call me Hannibal, or Colonel, when you piss me off."

Face's eyes widened. He'd just mouthed off to his C.O. That would be a first impression for the books.

"Relax, kid. You're not in trouble."

Face visibly relaxed.

"Why are you sitting in here by yourself?" Hannibal asked him.

Peck took a sip of coffee.

"It's mail day."

Hannibal glanced across the mess, at the table where Peck had been sitting when he came in. He did not see any letters on the table. He remembered reading the files for new recruits that had come into the camp, and coming across Peck's file. He recalled Peck's emergency contact person was a Father O'Malley, at St. Mary's Orphanage. Suddenly, an idea struck him, and he reached into his pocket.

"How about a game of poker?"

"What?"

"Five card stud, deuces and sixes wild."

Peck smiled a little, and nodded.

"Okay."

They sat down and Hannibal dealt the cards.

"I can't believe I forgot that," Face recalled with a smile. "You never did say what was in that letter you threw away."

"I didn't think you saw that."

"You're talking about me, Hannibal."

Hannibal smiled.

"It was from my wife," Hannibal revealed. "Her name was Evie. We were married for five years before I shipped out to 'Nam. The letter I threw away was the letter she wrote to tell me she was filing for divorce."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not. She found herself in bed with an orthodontist as soon as I deployed. I'd always known about it. I'd been waiting for that letter."

"We played cards in the mess every mail day after that, if I remember correctly."

"That reminds me..." Hannibal reached into his coat pocket and produced a deck of playing cards. "How about five-card stud?"

"How did you-"

"We've been friends for nearly 20 years, Face. You think I don't know you well enough by now?"

Face smiled and reached for the cards.

"Deuces and sixes wild?"

"You got it, Kid."

Hannibal puffed on his cigar as his Lieutenant happily dealt the cards.

END