As usual Face ate alone in the mess that night, an arrangement that he had stuck to since his first day on base and one which no one raised an eyebrow at now. All except Murdock who couldn't keep his eyes off that bent, blonde head, wondering what on earth he could get from sitting off on his own in silence day after day, thinking about the empty look on his face as BA joked about the mail. Abruptly, he made a decision, and without saying anything to the rest of the team, he got up and walked over to Face's bench, dropping his tray on the table across from the lieutenant's and offering up a dazzling smile as Face raised his head.

"Hey there buddy!" he offered cheerily, "Thought I'd come and keep you company!"

Instantly, Face's eyes were back on his meal. "You're not my buddy and I don't want your company. Smith making me spend meal times with you now as well? Man sure knows how to draw up a punishment."

For a second, Murdock's smile wavered, but then he plastered it back on again. "No, the colonel hasn't ordered me over here, did I 'cause I wanted to."

"Yeah?" Face looked up, cold eyes latching straight onto Murdock's, "Well you are even crazier than I thought then, Murdock, which, quite frankly, will take some doing." And with that he picked up his tray of unfinished food and dumped it on the counter before walking out, missing Murdock's morose expression and BA's glare as they followed him out of the mess.

As the evening drew on, it found the team in their usual pursuits. Hannibal was in his office finishing up paper work, Ray was laid on his cot reading, Murdock had gone out to check his missions for the next day, BA was trying to repair an old radio on the table in the corner and Face was laid on his back, one arm behind his head, one across his chest as he stared silently up at the ceiling. Tonight, however, the tension in the room was a little high.

BA kept on lifting his head from his repair, shooting surreptitious looks at the lieutenant who was studiously ignoring him, while Ray kept on glancing at BA over the top of his book, his brow furrowed in concern. Eventually, it seemed that BA's patience had worn out.

Slowly and carefully, he put the remains of his radio down and got to his feet, Ray tracking his every move as he walked to stand at the end of Face's cot. "Hey," he barked as he kicked the end of the cot, "I want a word with you pretty boy."

Face's eyes slid from the ceiling to rest on BA's thunderous expression, before drifting back up again, a look of complete and utter boredom on his face. "Yeah? Well that's too bad Baracus, 'cause I'm too busy doing fuck all to talk to you."

Ray rolled his eyes and BA moved. Quicker than a flash he was on top of Face, lifting him by his shirt and slamming him into the wall before the kid even had the chance to get his own shot in. Ray winced at the thump of Face's head making contact with the wooden frame of the hooch.

"Well you aint never too busy to listen to me when I want you to, you got that?"

The lack of a smart answer made Ray nervous and he got up from his cot to walk round where he could see what was going on a bit better. BA still had Face by the shirt, but the lieutenant's hands were slack on the bed next to him, his eyes looking dazed and disorientated as blood slowly seeped out into his hair.

"Bosco," Ray warned him quietly.

"He listening to me now though!" BA seethed, "'Bout time he learned his lesson!"

Ray just shook his head and folded his arms watching carefully.

"Right, pretty, I don't care what you wanna do with yourself when you here, I don't care if you wanna make the whole damn base hate you, but I tell you where I do draw the line," Face's eyes were drifting closed and BA shook him, hard, to make him open them again and look up at him. "I draw the line with you upsettin' that fool right? When all he's doin' is tryin' to make your miserable life a bit better."

"I never asked him to," Face muttered and Ray was concerned by the obvious slur to his voice.

"No, he doin' it 'cause he's a good man an' he don't want to find you beaten to death on the edge of the base somewhere!"

Face smiled at him, a cold, empty smile. "Yeah, Baracus? That's what you'd do is it?"

BA growled in anger and drew his fist back, just as Ray stepped forward and a voice from the doorway stopped them all. "BA?" Everyone stopped, frozen in their own almost comical tableau, and turned to look at Murdock standing open mouthed in the doorway. They watched the pilot's eyes flick from Ray to BA to Face, before darkening and shifting back to BA, narrowed and deadly serious. "Let go of him," he whispered, a threat clear in his voice. "Hannibal said you weren't to touch him again, remember?"

BA snarled and threw Face down on the bed, much harder than he needed to. "Me and the boy just been havin' a little chat, that's all," he muttered stalking back to his radio.

"That right?" Murdock asked, his voice sharp. "That why he's bleedin' all over his bed then is it?"

Shrugging nonchalantly, BA sat down at his radio while Face, put a shaky hand up to his head, looking at the blood he found on his fingers in surprise.

"You alright, kid?" This was Ray, stepping up to the edge of the bed, hoping to get chance to check out the damage before deciding if Hannibal needed to be involved or not.

But Face swung his feet off the cot and onto the floor, standing up straight with just the tiniest hint of a stagger before he turned and set the full force of his glare onto Ray, "The fuck you care," he muttered and pushed past him, past Murdock without even looking at the pilot and out into the darkness beyond.

The three men left in the hooch stood in silence, each one consumed by their own thoughts. The main one in Murdock's mind being, 'Well, isn't that exactly what you wanted from us, Face? Not to care?'

Twenty minutes Murdock waited in the tense and silent hooch before he got up and stalked to the door. No one asked where he was going; no one needed to.

It took him fifteen minutes to find him, in the shower block right across the other side of the FOB, looking in one of the tiny mirrors and dabbing at his bleeding head with a wad of damp toilet paper. "Hey," Murdock said from the door, not wanting to startle him.

Face looked up and Murdock could see that that impenetrable exterior wasn't quite in place.

"Fuck off Murdock." The familiar sneer was there but there was no heat in the words and a definite shake to his voice.

Murdock didn't fuck off, he just sighed and wandered over, taking the first aid kit from his pocket and pulling out some antiseptic and some cotton wool. He'd expected some resistance, token at least but there was none, Face just hung his head and leaned on the edge of the sink, his hands white knuckled and trembling slightly while Murdock cleaned him up.

"There you go, buddy," Murdock said at last, throwing the bloody scraps into the bin, "You aint gonna need stitches I don't think. Seems to be closin' up alright on its own."

"Thanks," Face whispered and Murdock leaned on the side of the sink next to him, looking at the top of his bent head and frowning.

Five minutes went by in silence before either of them spoke again, and it was Murdock, of course who broke the silence again. "You know, buddy," he said, his voice sounding a lot surer than he felt, "I could really do with a drink. Officer's mess is still open, you gonna come with me?"

For a minute, just a minute, Murdock thought he was going to say yes but then he saw Face's shoulders stiffen and he pulled himself up off the sink, robot mask firmly back in place. "No," he said, not quite looking at Murdock in the mirror. "I'm tired." And then he turned and walked out.

Finding himself suddenly alone in the shower block, Murdock smiled at his reflection in the mirror, "Well, muchacho, I think we're making progress!" he told himself cheerily, "At least he didn't tell us to fuck off again!"