Warnings/Content: Contains male/male SLASH plus torture and non consensual. Also some full-bodied soldier type language. Adult themes are discussed here and relationships between men. If you don't like the thought of it please do not read. I do not wish to offend.

PART FOUR: Parade Rest

Lieutenant Templeton Peck allowed himself to luxuriate in the strong sunshine that was basking the camp. Relaxation was a feeling he had known only rarely in his life but he felt quite justified in allowing it to roll through him now. He leaned back on to the deck chair he had procured and drew on his cigarette lazily; life was good!

BA and Ray were down at the motor workshops working on the jeep that Peck had acquired for the Team a week ago. It had taken some quick talking but ultimately not been a problem to get the sergeant in charge to sign the vehicle over on an unrestricted loan for Colonel Smith. Peck figured that the Colonel should have a vehicle that reflected his station but the jeep was all he could come by and Smith had undeniably been impressed, his smile only being surpassed by that of Baracus when he realised what Peck had done. From a very young age BA had dearly loved to fiddle with cars, had missed it tremendously, and suddenly being presented with something to work on, he let out a whoop of glee as he gathered the young lieutenant up in a bone-crushing hug. When off duty he was now rarely seen anywhere but the workshop. Ray too, not a stranger to a little tinkering with an internal combustion engine, accompanied him more often than not.

Peck smiled to himself as he remembered the gratitude of the three men that day. It had made him feel warm inside and he wanted to feel it again. As he sat soaking up the rays and smoking, he began to realise that he was feeling something that he had been missing all his life. He stopped the thought unwilling to process it further, unwilling to examine his own feelings. It was enough for now that BA had hugged him, that Ray had clasped him on the back and most importantly that the Colonel had fixed him with that appreciative grin.

The grin had been in evidence again later too. He had seen it as he notched up another perfect score on the rifle range. The weapon that he had acquired felt good in his hands. He could control it; he could focus his entire being on it. When he held that rifle in his arms and aimed at the target, nothing else mattered, he was in complete control and it felt so good. He knew that conditions on the range were very different from outside the wire but he also trusted that Colonel Smith could get him through that too.

Colonel Smith was even now at the briefing for their next mission. Over the past days, as they had worked together Peck's admiration for the Colonel had grown. The guy was as unorthodox as they came but he got results. Smith also had to be quite some conman himself, the way he had engineered the past few weeks; got the Team out of all missions, got limitless access to the range, even arranged for Peck to take a few flights out with Murdock just to get used to the chopper. The first time had been chilling but the more he did, the more comfortable Peck had become, until the day before he had even taken a time as the rear gunner and sprayed the jungle below them. Suddenly the green canopy and the enemy it concealed did not seem so frightening.

But flying above it was infinitely different to marching through it. Peck shuddered. Tomorrow they would find out if Smith's methods had been effective. Tomorrow was his first mission since the awful aborted one three weeks ago. Taking a long draw on his cigarette Peck forced the fear away, didn't want to think on it, not now, now he was just soaking up the sun and allowing himself a brief respite. He closed his eyes, sighed, allowed his guard down.

"Well what do we have here?"

The voice was gratingly familiar. Peck opened his eyes, saw the figures in front of him but was unable to recognise the features of their faces because they were lost as shadows in the blazing sun above him.

"Thought you were long gone, pretty boy!"

Peck shielded his eyes and squinted. "Stepford," he breathed.

"That's right, Peck. I'm surprised you remember me. Do you also remember how much you owe me? Or has that all been forgotten now you're a 'proper' soldier?" The voice was oozing the promise of violence and the men who accompanied Stepford moved in closer.

Peck gulped but stood up nonchalantly, refusing to be intimidated as he ground the cigarette butt into the dust below his feet. "I owe you?" he smiled. "I don't recall that at all, Stepford. As I remember it I put a deal of business your way, made you a lot of money, more than an asshole like you has any right to earn. If anything it's you who owes me."

He made to move past the hulky brute in front of him but Stepford grabbed hold of him by the shirt. He lifted him and banged him against the wall of the supply hut the lieutenant had been sitting in front of. Peck groaned as the breath was forced out of him. Stepford was only inches away, spitting in to his face, breath rancid with stale beer.

"Let me remind you, you goddamn shit!" The anger grating in his voice. "That last shipment, you ended up in the brig, I never got paid and so my supplier never got paid. He's putting pressure on me and I thought you were long gone. Imagine my pleasure when I found out that you were still here, that I could pass the pressure on to you, pass it down the line." As he spoke he banged Peck's head on to the wood behind him. "Pay me now, I'm out of here and I'll leave you to your new friends and the gook bullet that's undoubtedly waiting for you out there."

"I ….. if you just….." Peck squeaked, head thumping, his face going redder as his windpipe was squeezed. "….let me down…."

Stepford dropped him then and he landed, an untidy heap on the floor, coughing weakly. "I'm goddamn waiting, Peck!" Stepford pushed after a few seconds when it became evident that the gagging man was not about to make any further coherent comment.

"Jesus!" Peck gasped. "Give me a break!"

Stepford grunted impatiently and signalled to two of his goons who moved in instantly, took hold of Peck's arms and lifted him back to his feet.

"Thank you," Peck smiled smarmily, as he pulled his arms free and began to brush himself down. Finally he looked up at Stepford who was simmering in front of him. "Look, Stepford," he began, the embodiment of friendliness. "I understand your problem but you've got to see this from my point of view." Stepford growled so Peck continued quickly, raising a placating hand. "I've been out of the game for a while but I was going to contact you. I have a little cashflow problem right now…." Stepford growled again and took a menacing step forward. "… However I'm working on it. I will get your money to you as soon as I can. Promise!" He finished it off with his best smile.

Stepford glowered. "You haven't changed a bit; you're a lying, cheating little prick and I don't trust you as far as I can throw you." He reached out and ran a hand down Peck's face. "But there are other ways I can get you to pay me back. Ways I know that you can deliver to my satisfaction."

Peck flushed, jerking his head away from the probing hand, he didn't see the punch coming until Stepford buried his fist deep into his stomach. The lieutenant collapsed to his knees with a groan of pain, his arms clutching the place where the blow had fallen.

"You've got until the end of the week, Peck," Stepford spat. "Then I'll come looking for you and I'll make that cute ass of yours pay in full!"

"Nice to see you again, too!" Peck forced himself to call out through his pain as Stepford and his goons moved away.

"Trouble, Lieutenant?"

Peck eased his body around to see Colonel Smith approaching him. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to his feet, rubbing his belly ruefully. "Some people just cannot argue without resorting to violence, Colonel," he tried to make his tone as light as possible.

Smith just stared at him for a long minute. "Sergeant Stepford," he breathed finally.

"You know him?"

The Colonel took a cigar from his pocket. "Oh yeah, I know him," he replied wistfully. "Slimeball of the first order. Is there anything you want to tell me, Lieutenant?"

Peck looked away, out into the jungle and gulped. He shook his head slowly. "No, Sir."

Smith remained staring at him for a long time. "Very well," he replied finally. Then he pushed past the younger man and made his way purposefully towards his office.

Peck let out a long sigh. He felt suddenly deflated and ran his hand through his hair in a gesture of resignation. The fault was his of course – he had allowed himself to relax, allowed himself to take his eye off the ball. Experience had taught him that when he did that disaster was sure to follow and he had allowed himself to forget that – sloppy, very sloppy! All this being part of a team had made him feel too secure, too safe. He had to guard against it, stay strong, stay focused and start thinking how he was going to come up with the money to pay Stepford because the other option was not appealing in the least.

He began walking as his brain ticked over. Unaware of where he was going he was somewhat shocked to realise some time later that he had arrived at the helicopter landing pads. He stopped, watching as a number of mechanics pottered around the grounded birds. Their movements became more animated and Peck squeezed his eyes to make out the returning choppers, mere specks in the darkening sky, rushing to make it home before the night rolled in.

Within ten minutes they had landed. Peck moved forward when he made out the rangy figure of Murdock hopping out of his seat. He was laughing, talking with his crew, slapping them on their backs and Peck felt a sudden pang of jealousy rush up his gut – surprised he squashed it and pushed it away. Where the hell did that come from?

Hesitantly he moved forwards. "Murdock!" he called.

"Faceyman!" The pilot beamed. "What you doing here?" His face suddenly grew tense. "What's happened?"

Peck shrugged. "Nothing," he admitted, feeling stupid. What was he doing here? "I em …. Just wanted to see you, just wanted to talk."

"'Fraid not Face," Murdock shook his head. "Gotta debrief."

Much to his consternation, Peck found himself pouting. "I'll wait," he muttered indicating that Murdock should return to his waiting crew. The pilot pursed his lips, bending slightly to look into Peck's eyes but the conman had taken control of himself assuming his bland, uncommunicative expression.

"You sure everything is OK?" Murdock shrugged. "OK. Be as quick as I can!"

Peck stood smoking as he waited but true to his word, Murdock was back in less than ten minutes, his face still showing concern for his friend as he lead the way to the Officer's Club. A number of pilots had beaten them there and they dealt out some good natured banter as Murdock arrived with the grunt lieutenant. Still buzzing on his adrenaline from the mission the pilot waved them away, ordered two beers and sat at a table at the other end of the bar.

"So, Faceyman, you want to talk," he began.

Peck sighed. Lifted up his beer and then put it back down on the table without drinking. His eyes were shy when he admitted, "Not really. I wanted to listen."

"Listen?" Murdock rolled his eyes.

Peck nodded. "Talk to me about something normal, Murdock," he asked. "About TV or music or football."

Murdock drew in a deep breath, his eyes never leaving his companion. He had never know the kid ask for anything before and he knew that in doing so Face was revealing a weakness that he would never normally disclose. "You're acting mighty strange, Face, you want to tell me what's eating you?"

Peck grimaced. "Not really," he said, eyes glued to his long fingers as they fiddled with the label on his beer bottle. He looked up shyly. "I'm not good at this team thing but I just love it when you treat me like one of the guys."

It was more than the lieutenant had ever allowed into the open before and Murdock felt humbled to be afforded such confidential information. Forgetting where he was for a moment he reached out towards Peck's hand but the kid shook his head and pulled his hand out of reach, his eyes flashing his alarm as he nodded toward the other pilots. Getting the message Murdock diverted his hand to pull the pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He took one then threw the packet to Peck. As he bent forward to light it, Murdock whispered, "What am I going to do with you, kid?"

Ignoring the cigarettes, Peck licked his lips lecherously as an idea of what may lessen the empty, insecure feeling in his soul hit him. His eyes were wide and bright in the dim light. "I can think of something!" he purred embracing the role immediately as a drowning man clings to a life raft. "I still owe you, don't forget."

Murdock sighed as the familiar wave of lust rushed over him. God the kid was tempting! Hadn't he thought long and hard about this since the episode in the shower? And hadn't he come to the painful conclusion that he had been right to control himself there and he had to continue to do so; the kid needed a friend, a big brother, so much more than he needed a lover. Things were stressful for the boy, complicated enough and they were going to get worse over the coming days without introducing sex into the equation. Deep inside Murdock knew he was making the right decision but that left him with another problem – how to let this fragile soul down without subjecting him to further pain especially since Peck had been brave enough to reveal the cravings of normalcy of the scared boy that he hid so deeply behind the arrogant conman facade.

To give himself time, Murdock took a long swig of his beer. "Not here, Face," he said finally.

Peck smiled, rolling his eyes towards the boisterous pilots. "Well obviously," he said. "But there are other, more suitable places."

Murdock shook his head, feeling his heart lurch, as the knowing smile of the lieutenant's face froze into a pinched look of betrayal as the pilot spoke. "It's not right, Face," Murdock forced himself to continue, voice neutrally calm. "I want to be your friend more than anything but…."

"My friend!" Peck hissed. "You can be my goddamned friend – I thought you wanted more!" He shook his head, voice rising dangerously loud. "The shower…. you said…"

"Easy, Facey!" Murdock reached out again, this time taking hold of his hand. "I know what I said."

Peck's face contorted with pain and anger – rejection again! It never did get any less painful! "Oh I get it," he hissed. "You were overcome by the moment. Now you remember who I am, what I am, I'm not so enticing, huh?"

"Shush!" Murdock tried to placate the kid. "Believe me you are more enticing than you will ever know but….."

Peck shook his head violently. He was not listening because he knew exactly what Murdock was saying. He had heard it too many times from the families who failed to accept him for adoption at the orphanage to the excuses of Leslie Becktall emotionlessly recited to him by her friend. Damn Murdock! Damn them all! He stood up and his chair made a loud grating noise on the floor, calling the attention of everyone in the bar to their table. All was suddenly silent and the change in atmosphere was enough to jerk Peck's ever alert self preservation senses back into control. He hesitated only for a second. "Forget it!" he snarled and stalked out of the Club.

The pilots continued to gaze expectantly at Murdock. One even shouted across but the lanky pilot ignored them. Instead he sat quietly on his seat and finished his beer as inside his heart wept.

"Tell me about the kid," Peck's voice was strained above the noise of the chopper's rotors. "The one you knew in Korea."

Hannibal eyed him minutely, picking up the muscle flexing nervously on the kid's jaw, his wild eyes and the tense grip of his hands on the sniper rifle resting between his legs. He was strung out the Colonel could see but then he had known this would be hard. Still Smith suspected there was more to it than just the pressure of this first mission outside the wire. The scene with Stepford for one thing but also something had happened between Murdock and the boy. They were normally close and Smith had ensured he had got the lanky pilot assigned to this mission but when they arrived to embark Peck had looked straight through him and just climbed into the chopper. Murdock had shrugged at Smith's unspoken question and got into the cockpit, sending the reasons for the response spinning around the Colonel's head, possibilities that would have to be explored but not yet. First they had to get through this mission.

And give the kid credit he was definitely trying. Hannibal knew what he was doing asking about Korea and he would respond of course – anything to get Peck's mind away from the fear that must be eating him up.

"He was a real hard nut. Grew up on the streets, I guess, that's where he learned never to trust anybody. Thought he could do everything on his own, thought he was in control," he stopped. Peck was studiously avoiding his glance but looking out over the green canopy as it skirted by below. Hannibal sucked his cigar and waited.

Finally blue eyes came back to look at him as Peck gulped nervously. "What happened to him?"

"Made the grade as I told you, kid. Learnt to control his fear," Smith shrugged. "Though it was a painful process for all involved."

Peck opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it and clamped it shut again. The Colonel reached across and laid a comforting hand on the younger man's shoulder, felt it shivering. "You'll be fine, kid," he soothed. "Just follow BA like we agreed. Ray and I'll keep you safe. Then you just pull the trigger and come right on out again. Piece of cake."

"Piece of cake," Peck repeated less than convinced. "Yeah, right Sir!"

But in the end that's exactly what it was! Within four hours they were back at base, Peck having fought the all-encompassing fear long enough to squeeze his rifle's trigger and consign the Viet Cong General at the end of his sights to hell with one clean shot. Then it was a mad dash out again, eyes flashing desperately trying to pick out any booby traps hidden on the forest floor, BA's back bobbing reassuringly in front of him back to the pick up point where Murdock was waiting…. piece of cake!

Smith threw his arm around Peck as they made their way back to the hooch. "You done good, kid!" he beamed. "How about a drink to celebrate?" He was a little unsure about the effect the cold-blooded killing might have on the kid but Peck seemed to be unconcerned by it and Smith wondered if it was the first time he had killed a man, he suspected it was not.

Peck shook his head. "Thank you, Sir but I'm worn out. Reckon I'll just go to bed."

"That's hardly a way for a hero to celebrate!" Smith tried again as the rest of the Team came up behind them. The Colonel noticed the kid's eyes rest for a second on Murdock, the perfect face flushed noticeably even in the evening light. Something big had certainly happened there which was obviously more important to Peck than the execution of an enemy general.

"I'm no hero, Sir," the lieutenant said softly as he forced his eyes back to his commanding officer. "And we all know it. Reckon you'll all enjoy a drink more without me around."

"Lieutenant, how many times do I have to tell you, you are part of the team now. And I would rather drink with my Team than anyone else on this planet," Smith retorted.

"Is this an order, Sir?" Peck asked stiffly. He wanted to be anywhere else than in the cooped up Officer's Club near Murdock but Smith's hand on his shoulder was compelling.

"If that's what it takes, kid."

So Peck found himself sitting between BA and the Colonel in the hot and stuffy club. Murdock sat across from him but from what Peck could see out of the corner of his eye as he studiously ignored the pilot, he was involved in a whispered conversation with Ray. They seemed to be planning something but Peck cared little for what it was. He sipped at his beer slowly, nodding his head when he felt it was appropriate to what the others, notably Smith, were saying but not paying any real note to the words. He was tired, the strain of the day's escapade having sapped all the nervous energy he normally existed on, and he really did want to crash.

Eventually BA stood up to get more beer – Peck still hadn't finished his first but had managed to swap it with Ray's empty one when the rest of the team's attention had been taken as four sweetly curved nurses had entered the club. Taking advantage of the moment for a second time Peck stood up.

"I gotta go," he muttered.

"After those nurses, eh, Lieutenant?" Smith rolled his eyebrows knowingly.

Ordinarily Peck would have leapt to the challenge, particularly as he knew Murdock was watching him, but not this night. "Something like that, Sir," he muttered. He even threw the girls his best smile as he pushed past. Two of them looked interested but Peck simply filed the information for later – there would be other nights when he could explore those particular opportunities. This night, he just had to sleep.

Smith turned his eyes to Murdock who was longingly watching the lieutenant's retreating back, his mouth slightly open and a dazed look on his face.

"You want to tell me what's going on between you and the kid, Captain?" Smith pulled the pilot back from his reverie.

Murdock smiled a lazy, slightly alcoholic smile. "No, Sir," he drawled. "But I categorically guarantee it will be fixed by the end of the night!"

Smith nodded. "I don't have to tell you not to hurt him, do I Murdock?"

The pilot shook his head. "That is absolutely the last thing I intend to do, Sir!" he confirmed.

It was dark.

Peck woke with a start as the strong arms encircled him, a hand over his mouth. He tried to struggle but he was held immobile as the arms lifted him and threw him over a shoulder.

Peck groaned at the pain but then, realising his mouth was free started to whine. "What the….?"

"Shut up!" The voice commanded as Peck felt the dig in his ribs. He ignored it. "Get the hell…." He began again. There was a muttered curse from the shadow and the gag was stuffed roughly into the lieutenant's mouth, then his hands were tied. "Just couldn't follow an order even now!" somebody muttered.

Then they were moving out of the hooch and through the camp, Peck's head bouncing painfully against the rump of the man that carried him. Had to be Stepford, Peck reasoned but damn the man he was two days early! Peck allowed his sense of completely unjustified fairness to be suitably affronted before he began plotting on how to get out of this mess. He didn't have the money, hadn't had any chance to get it yet. He was hoping that inspiration would hit him once the mission was over with but it hadn't yet so that left the other option. He let out a frustrated whimper through the gag.

They were slowing down. Hadn't gone far so Stepford was either going to take him on neutral ground or it wasn't the big sergeant at all. But if not him who? Peck tried to turn his head to get a look at the figure that accompanied the one carrying him but it hovered just out of his line of sight. He wasn't frightened – he had survived episodes like this before too many times not to know that he had to just stay cool and await an opportunity.

Jesus they were at the latrines! Peck wrinkled his nose in disgust, part of his mind noting that it was about time they were relocated again. Peck hoped some other fool would be required to do the manual labour this time! They were going up the wooden steps his head banged the hand rail and Peck let out an annoyed grunt. Then they were through the door, he was being pulled upright and thrust painfully through into the cubicle, to be forced to sit on the toilet seat, pressed into it unceremoniously. He pulled himself back upright just as the figure exited the door, leaving him sitting alone and perplexed.

As his tied hands went up to try to remove the gag the door opened again. His eyes widened in surprise and his hands fell back to his side for framed in the doorway was none other than Murdock.

The pilot sidled into the cubicle, his eyes drinking in the scrumptious sight before him. "Hello, Lieutenant Peck," he murmured in a rich, deep voice.

Peck shuffled, tried to stand up but the pilot's two hands pressed firmly to his chest forced him back down. "No," Murdock said. "Last night you said you wanted to listen and then when I tried to tell you, you promptly left. Tonight you will listen to me."

Peck gestured towards his gag and growled angrily. Murdock shook his head. "Not until you prove to me you can listen. Last night I tried to explain to you how it is going to be, you didn't listen. And today, when I tried to talk you continually turned that pretty little nose up at me, so now you have forced me to take action!"

Peck groaned again, his nostrils flaring but he remained still as somewhere deep inside a warm feeling began to burn. He would never admit it but he kind of liked it when Murdock spoke to him this way.

"You gonna listen to me now?" Murdock asked. "Are you?" Peck nodded unenthusiastically as he covered his arousal by stuffing his hands into his lap and forced his eyes to spit their anger. "Good!" Murdock hesitated as voices from outside drifted into them.

"Not in there, you're not sucka!" came BA 's voice. "This latrine is out of bounds. Go find somewhere else, now!"

Peck shivered, his eyes widening. Murdock smiled. "That's right Faceyman. Ain't no-one gonna come and rescue you until we're finished. BA and Ray gonna see to that! You see they know we need to have a little chat – get the ground rules fixed." He leaned back against the wall, lightly stroking Peck's left knee as he continued. "See, yesterday you questioned whether you were enticing enough for me and I just wanted to put the record straight." He reached across and ran his hand softly across Peck's cheek. Despite the incongruity of the situation Peck closed his eyes and moved his head slightly towards the hand. He moaned softly as his body responded to Murdock's caress. "Ain't no worries there, kid." Murdock breathed his voice slightly hoarse. "Never met anyone who could entice me more!"

The hand moved away and Peck re-opened his eyes to see Murdock draw in a long shuddering breath as he moved away and leaned back against the wall. "Did you read a lot when you were a kid, Face?" he asked. Looking slightly bemused Peck shook his head slowly. "I did." Murdock continued, "Spent hours down that library. Read loads of books but I remember one day I got this book down from the shelf. Man, it was beautiful, just calling out to me, sharp bright colours, attracting my eye, making my mouth dry with wanting. Did you ever find a book like that, Face?"

Again Peck shook his head. "Well I just couldn't resist it," Murdock continued. "Took it out that day. Wanted to read it there and then but I didn't. Took it to my bedroom, put it on the table next to my bed, stroked it at night but I still didn't read it. Time came for me to take it back. I renewed the loan of course but I still didn't read it. Do you know why Face?"

Peck drew in a ragged breath, fidgeted on the toilet seat but found himself unable to break Murdock's questioning stare. Finally he shook his head again.

"I was scared, Face; scared that the contents wouldn't match the cover, scared that it would be a disappointment. I couldn't believe that something so beautiful could live up to that splendour in all things."

Peck let out a whimper and his head fell forward. He thought he knew exactly what Murdock was telling him and it hurt so much he could feel the tears moisten his eyes; desperately he tried to sniff them back – he couldn't cry not here, not now. He had not cried in front of anyone since he was seven years old, he sure as hell wasn't going to start now! And yet the tears were falling, running down his cheeks inexorably.

Murdock was kneeling before him then. Gently lifting his head up, brushing away the tears. "Don't cry, Face," he soothed. "I haven't finished my story yet. You're doing it again, assuming what I'm saying before I've said it."

Peck shuddered forcing back his tears. He gulped past the damn gag, wanting more than anything to be able to push past this man and get out into the fresher air outside. Man, this latrine stunk and so did this conversation!

"OK Facey?" Murdoch asked, still dabbing lovingly at his cheeks. "Why do you always think so badly of yourself? Let me tell you the end of the story, please."

Peck closed his eyes, gulped in some more air. When he opened then again Murdock was staring at him, patiently waiting. He sighed resignedly and nodded.

"I did read the book eventually," Murdock said. "But I read it in my own time, when it felt right. I took my time over it, read each delicate page, savoured each word and you know what?" Peck shook his head mesmerised by Murdock's story. "It was the best goddamn book I ever read, I never took it back to the library. Its contents were even better than its cover!"

Jesus! Peck wanted to scream, he was crying again – what the hell was wrong with him? Murdock bent down and gently removed the gag. "Don't need that," he whispered. "Now you get my point."

"Murdock, I ….." Christ; his voice sounded so weak, so powerless, but that shock was not what stopped him from going further, that was Murdock's mouth bearing down on to his. The pilot forced himself on to Peck who fell backwards against the far wall of the cubicle but their mouths kept contact with each other, tongues entwined, bodies writhing.

And then as quickly as it started it was over. Murdock pulled back, stood above him with a warm, wide smile blaring across his mouth! His eyes looked down at the young lieutenant lit with an expression that Peck had seen others use before but such affection had never been centred on him.

Peck smiled ruefully. "I can't believe you tied me up, kidnapped me, dumped me in a latrine to tell me about your book fetish!" He extended his arms and Murdock duly untied them without even the good grace to look shamefaced.

"You are one stubborn son of a bitch, Faceyman. I knew I would have to do something spectacular to get your attention. But you get my point?"

Peck stood up wearily, his face now set in its regular emotionless expression, the tears of just moments before forgotten. "Oh I get it all right," he responded, eyes shining with teasing.

Murdock laughed. "Man can't do enough reading I find but remember none of it'll compare to my work of art."

Peck pushed past him in the tight cubicle and hesitated for a second as their chests touched. He looked into Murdock's eyes and for a second the pilot saw the vulnerable little boy once more. "And what happens if I need to leaf through the odd page of your masterpiece once in a while, just to keep me going, before you decide to 'read' me completely?" He looked out shyly from under long lashes.

Murdock placed his arms around Peck's neck and planted a kiss on his lips. "Didn't they teach you anything about forbearance in that orphanage of yours?"

"Wasn't listening," Peck disclosed. "Never been a virtue of mine."

"Listening or forbearing?" Murdock asked as he nuzzled Peck's throat and then reluctantly let him go.

Peck shrugged sheepishly. "Either," he muttered. "As you gathered!"

"Well then it's time you learned – the longer you wait, the better it'll be!" Murdock sighed dreamily. "But I'm all for the sneak preview!" he finished.

Peck smiled and nodded. "Sounds good." He licked his lips and leaned forward a little, Murdock closed his eyes but the expected kiss never came. Instead he opened his eyes again to see the cubicle was empty. The outside door banged and he heard Peck moan. "I can't believe you two pulled me out of my bed for that! Man this is a crazy world; I need some sleep!"

Murdock smiled. "Why Templeton Peck," he breathed jubilantly, "You are such a tease!"

TBC