Chapter 3 – Venomous Impediments
From the moment the plane made its first visual, it became mayhem at the 'Wild Aces' hangar. The fuel truck had finally arrived and General Stockwell ordered his accompanying Ables to keep a close eye on one petrol deliveryman by the name of Dave Magee - who suspiciously eyed the group of men that were eyeing him suspiciously.
"Hey, Junior," his ruff voice called out as he kept at his task filling up the nearby fuel tank. "You know, I've seen alotta things since your daddy started up this place, but I ain't never seen things so busy like this before. What's up with these fancy suits crawling all over tonight? They don't look like any of the regulars I've ever seen around here." His gray mustache twitched as he eyed her closely. "Say, you're not in some kinda trouble, are you?"
"No - oh, these guys?" She gestured to Stockwell and his entourage, and her sly grin appeared. "Just clients, Dave - getting ready to lift them out to the metro area for a roof-top bachelorette party. They're dancers - strippers actually!"
"Wh-whoa, wayyy too much info there, Junior!" the old man sputtered, quickly turning his eyes away from them, back to the fuel nozzle in his hands. "Hey, isn't there some confidentiality agreement you have to sign to keep from sharing information like that?"
"Yeah, probably!" she snickered, then waved to Stockwell who was intently watching them from his limo. By the way his lips pursed, she knew he was listening. Intently.
"Well," he sighed. "I'm just glad you finally got some help around here. Everything going okay with that new fella you got working for ya?"
"With me," she corrected him. "I'm not his boss, it's more of a... trial partnership right now."
"So long as he's treating you right." He smiled, then added a knowing wink.
She blushed. "Thanks, Dave."
"Where's he been anyway?" he wondered aloud, then looked over her head and curiously pointed at the object in the distance, quickly approaching. "Sounds like a low-one incoming - what is that, Junior?"
She looked up and her mouth dropped as she caught sight of the Yak airplane for the very first time. The magnificent bird flew over them and dipped into a perfect three-point touchdown with ease, its wheels kicking up the fine orange silty dirt that followed behind in a dusty cloudy trail. When it reached the end of the runway, it spun a perfect one-eighty pivot and quickly taxied back towards the hangar.
"Oh, yeah!" she cheered, then called out to Stockwell, "Now that's a real incentive!"
"Face!"
It was the first thing Murdock yelled out as he popped open the cockpit hatch. He hurriedly ripped off his headset, loosened his safety harness and nearly dove headfirst into the co-pilot area behind him.
"Oh geez..." He gently lifted Face's limp chin away his chest and saw he was white as a ghost; clammy and twitching. In a moment of panic, he shoved two fingers against his neck and felt a weak throb at his fingertips, much to his relief.
"Three minutes left, Captain," Stockwell warned him.
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered back while he fished inside Face's jacket pocket. He retrieved the artifact and tucked it into his own jacket pocket. "Hold on, Face. Here we go - one, two, three!" Gritting his teeth, he hoisted Face out of the cockpit and slung him over his shoulder, then stepped onto the wing and managed to carefully lower himself down.
As soon as his black Chuck Taylors hit the ground, he turned and met Stockwell face to face. His eyes filled with fury as he reached into his jacket pocket and slapped the elaborate stone into the General's hand. "Here's your precious gem, General. Now, let me go save one of mine." Giving no time for Stockwell to respond, he hurried for the bay's exit, calling out, "I'd appreciate it if you tried to find a way to contact B.A. and Hannibal to let them know what happened."
"I'll take care of it, Captain. Mission accomplished and nicely done... once again." Stockwell looked down at the prized relic, then wasted no time heading for his limo.
"Yeah, well - we did our job, General," Murdock yelled back before he was out of earshot. "Now do yours!"
With Stockwell now out of his sight and mind, Murdock focused on the whirling blades off in the distance and willed his feet to move as fast as they could. The weight of Face's limp body was beginning to wear on his legs, but when he saw her leap from the cockpit, he quickened his pace with a jolt of excitement. As she ran full speed toward him, it was a bit like the reunion he'd envisioned - both of them rushing towards each other in adrenaline-filled anticipation, ending with a passionate embrace.
Unfortunately, the only thing it ended with was the sound of gravel as she slid to a halt by his side, and his apologetic expression hidden beneath a shadowy bearded chin.
"Hi there," he sheepishly greeted her as they hurried to the awaiting helicopter.
"Oh my, Face... how bad is it?" She circled around him, wide-eyeing Face's limp body. "What happened - wait, was he shot?"
"I'll explain everything as soon as we're back in the air - but first, I really need your help. "
"Me? Where's B.A. and Hannibal?"
"Floating on the Atlantic somewhere near the Florida coast, you know how B.A. is. They should be back sometime tomorrow."
"Wait - Stockwell's not coming?" She knew it was a question in vain the moment she'd asked it.
"Would you really expect him to? Hey, I know we can handle this - we've been through worse, right? " He suddenly winced, then met her sideways glance. "Never mind, don't answer that. Come on, we gotta hurry."
As they approached the helicopter, the deafening noise of the whirling blades became overpowering, which drowned out any further conversation. Murdock climbed into the fuselage first, and with her help, gently settled Face into an empty seat.
"Strap him in and stay here with him, okay? We're goin' full throttle the whole way!" he yelled over the deafening vibration, then secured the cargo door shut and quickly scrambled for the pilot's seat.
She managed to click the harness straps over Face's chest just moments before she felt the familiar lift into flight. But there was no excitement this time; only concern as touched Face's forehead and winced at his cold, clammy skin. When she looked back to the cockpit, Murdock let go of the collective long enough to frantically point at his headset, indicating he was trying to talk to her.
"Whoops." She grabbed the nearest headset and pulled it over her ears and keyed the mic. "Now on comm, sorry about that."
"Forgot what it's like to be a passenger, did ya? We should be landing at the hospital in approximately five minutes here. How's he doing?"
"He doesn't look so good. What's wrong with him?"
"Face is suffering from the effects of Ophitoxaemia."
"In English, Tiger!" She shook her head at his gibberish and reminded herself to ease up on the pilot slang in the future.
"He was bit by a snake. Can you see anything?"
"I can try." It was nearly pitch black in the cabin area now, but she managed to lean over and catch a moonlit glimpse of his leg and winced at the sight of the puncture wounds and dried blood. "Oh, geez - what kind of snake does that?"
"A Micrurus fulvius."
"I - I really didn't think you were really going to answer that." She blinked a few times, amazed. "But why didn't we just drive him to the local hospital across town?"
"Because the antivenin for a coral snake is rare and only made in limited quantities. If it's going to be anywhere, it's gonna be at D.C. General, so that's where we're going!"
"You never cease to amaze me. How do you know so much about everything?"
"Fifteen years of solitude gives you get a lot of reading time, remember?"
They suddenly banked hard right and she grabbed the nearby safety strap and held Face upright. "Hey, go easy on her, Tiger!"
"Easy? I told you not to baby her, this bird needs to soar! Hey, I think she missed me and she knows I'm back - that's right, how's 'Number Five' doin' ya sweet young thang? Oowooo...!"
His howl faded away in her headset as they leveled out, then suddenly she began to feel a distinct vibration around her. It wasn't from any mechanical sense, like the familiar whirling above. It was something else; something not quite... natural. After a quick look around, she realized it was from Face's legs which were trembling uncontrollably.
"Oh no, he's shaking really bad here - what do I do? I'm not a doctor, I'm a pilot, remember?!"
"Take a deep breath, McCoy. It's just an effect of the neurotoxin. Just hold onto him back there, I'm dropping some altitude."
Seconds later she felt her insides dip. It was a familiar feeling that she could brush it off easily. Face, however...
"Ughhh..."
The sudden direction change had jolted his innards hard enough to stir him awake, muttering a drawn out, sickly moan.
"Hey, he's coming around, stand-by." She pulled the headset down to her neck, then leaned over and gently touched his cheek. "Face, can you hear me? Please say something!"
"Is that... you, kid?" He was in obvious excruciating pain, his eyes tightly screwed shut.
"Yeah, it's me," she told him, then wiped away the cold sweat pouring from his forehead with her sleeve. "How you feeling?"
"Just lousy, thanks." He blindly reached out in darkness of the unlit cabin. "Can't see... everything's all dark."
"It's night, that's all." She grabbed his hand and noticed the trail of dried blood down his wrist from the bite. "Just hold on, we're almost at the hospital. Hey, you're even riding first class, so don't worry, okay?"
"I'm not worried, I'm... ugh, sick."
"I know, it's from the venom. Murdock told me about the snake."
"No, I'm... sick! Gonna-" Face leaned over innately and the sounds of retching filled the air.
She pulled away and winced, grateful it was dark enough so that she couldn't see what now graced her bird's interior.
"S-sorry," he sputtered, his head rolling back against the bench seat. "Couldn't... stop."
"Hey, don't worry about it. I've had plenty of airsick passengers before," she reassured him, then rolled her eyes at herself for lying. "Just try to stay awake - hey, how was South America?"
"Just... wonderful," he sputtered sarcastically, then retched again.
She could only watch helplessly as Face emptied his stomach. In the midst, she pulled one side of her headset up and hissed into the mic, "Hey, um - Face is christening the passenger area back here."
"I heard. Your mic was open."
"Oops." She looked at the open mic switch and realized she'd been transmitting the entire time. Her embarrassment was quickly forgotten when Face suddenly slumped over hard into her.
"Whoa, I've gotcha, Face." She steadied him against the seat and saw his eyes roll back into his head just before they closed again. "Face...? Tiger, he's out cold again."
"He'll be okay once we get him the antivenin, I promise. Remember, we spent our fair share of time in the jungle. You know, back in seventy-one, B.A. wound up getting chomped from one of those little buggers too. Took him over a day though 'till he was ready to admit he wasn't quite up to par and I had to give him a dust-off to the hospital almost just like this. Heads-up, we're goin' down and coming in!"
She could only shake her head in amazement at how calm he was in the midst of the absolute utter madness they were in.
"When love is not madness, it is not love." ~Pedro Calderon de la Barca
Now this was a familiar place.
He'd traveled here more than a few times in his life. You can't ever forget this place either - it's like being thrown face-first on the ground while a foot pushes on the back of your skull trying to sink you further into the dirt. It's the feeling that you've hit rock bottom, yet somehow gravity is sinking in even lower; beyond the sediment. It's like the aftereffect of a massive electrical jolt - muscles almost paralyzed in a jellylike state.
Having the life completely sucked out of you - this was how it felt to be in this limitless boundary of vast, empty nothingness.
There was something else here. It wasn't much - just a mere pinpoint of light in this darkness. Perhaps a glimmer of hope. His felt his legs trembling and the light began to creep closer. He wasn't sure if he was running. He hoped he was, because then he was actually moving instead of sitting around in so called 'purgatory'. He looked down at his feet to see that yes, he was running.
So he ran. Ran with long legged strides like he was a kid with limitless stamina again, and the pinpoint began to grow. His feet pounded against the surface beneath and it wasn't until he saw himself in a wild blur that he realized he was no longer in reality. But his legs kept him going, taking him into the light.
He'd passed through the white glow and his head somewhat cleared of the stars, but found the same darkness. A loud, continuous hum vibrated in his ears and it was almost deafening. He felt his legs still twitching like he was running, but he couldn't stop them - or even control them for that matter. When a focused attempt to open his eyes failed, the panic began.
The voice calling to him was familiar and knowing he wasn't alone in this blackness brought an immediate sense of relief.
He managed to move, to reach out, trying to feel something - anything. Anything beyond the darkness that was beyond the mere absence of the sun; beyond the vibration that continued to rattle him.
A warm hand finally grabbed his and held on. There was calm; emotionally. Physically, however, he couldn't settle himself. This was not good, at all.
His innards climbed into his throat as if the floor had dropped out from under him, and he felt the panic as the nausea overtook him. He remembered trying to warn her before he leaned forward in reflex, letting his stomach take care of the rest.
The first retch was always the worst, the feeling like your eyeballs are going to pop out of their sockets was not a pleasant one. But there was a sense of relief afterward, especially when he felt the cold headrest as his head fell back against it. It didn't last long though. After muttering an apology, multiple pinpoints of light began to speckle in his vision, and he was sick once again.
Then the blackness returned to claim him...
"What the hell is this...?"
Standing atop the hospital roof, the two orderlies looked up in unison from their impromptu smoke break. "Hey, Jones!" The taller one scratched his head in confusion. "Did you hear anything about a Med-evac coming in now?"
"Nope, not a thing, Fritz." The other man gaped at the unscheduled chopper floating briefly over the heliport's target, then touching down with ease. "This should be fun trying to explain to the chief."
"Yeah." Jones drew in a slow, deep inhale and the cigarette's cherry turned bright orange. "Think he's gonna be pissed?"
"Mm." A cloud of blue smoke trailed from Fritz's lips, which was quickly swept away by a gust of wind from the whirling blades that were already powering down. "You can bet on it."
The cockpit door opened, and they both curiously watched the pilot jump from the chopper. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he immediately spun and stared their way. They all stood motionless, studying one another, until...
"Emergency! Emergency here!" His excited yell from the top of his lungs snapped them both to attention. "Do I have to start humming the Saint Elsewhere theme? Let's go people, we gotta man down over here!"
The orderlies break abruptly ended with two simultaneous flicks of partially burned Marlboros over the edge of the ten-story building and they immediately scrambled into action.
After a whirlwind of motion, they cautiously lifted Face from the fuselage and onto a stretcher, and quickly wheeled him inside. The elevator doors parted and revealed an awaiting nurse, who ushered them in. She glanced down briefly at Face's lifeless body on the gurney, then her attention was on the clipboard and pen in her hands.
"Name?"
"Uh, Jack," Murdock plainly answered, then looked at her name tag. Teige.
"Jack what?" Teige asked.
Jack the Ripper. Jack Sprat. Jack in the Box. Jack Daniels. Jack Nicholson.
"Nicholson. Err, no relation to the great one," he rushed to add.
"And what happened to Mr. Nicholson?"
"Ophitoxaemia."
"What?" Nurse Teige looked up at him as if he had two heads and found herself staring at a colorful snake being held out to her as if it were show and tell. She suddenly screeched and backed against the elevator wall while raising her clipboard defensively.
"It's okay, relax." Murdock wiggled the limp snake. "It's dead now, see?"
Teige raised the clipboard higher and poised to swat. "I don't care if it's dead. Get that blasted thing away from me right now!" She fired a warning glare at Murdock, who retreated with the snake, and a sulk. "Do you know what kind it is?" she asked, still scribbling feverishly on the clipboard.
"Micrurus fulvius," he responded automatically, then felt A.J. gently nudge his side. "Err, coral," he quickly rushed to add.
"Coral snake, extremely venomous." More pen scratching. "How long ago was he bitten?"
Murdock glanced at his watch. "A little over an hour now."
"That's it?" Teige looked up in surprise, then nibbled the pen's cap. "I've only ever seen one other case where the symptoms were near instantaneous like this."
"And what happened to them?" A.J. curiously asked.
The pen chewing continued in silence, then she made another note in the chart. "D.O.A., but if it makes you feel any better, the other guy didn't get here as fast as you did."
The two exchanged nervous glances as the elevator doors parted, and Nurse Teige wasted no time in darting away from them, and the snake.
They began a brisk trek down the hallway, and Murdock pressed his lips in anticipation, wondering if Teige was telling the truth or if it was payback for the snake. Either way, he felt a heightened sense of urgency as they arrived at the triage area.
"I'll go inform the doctor of the situation. He'll have the antivenin mixed and administered immediately." Teige looked at them and helpfully added, "You know, you're very lucky you came to D.C. General - we're the only ones that carry the antidote within a hundred-mile radius. It's been in very short supply lately."
Now it was A.J. who felt a nudge this time and she looked over to see Murdock's sly glance as he winked. Her tongue poked the side of her cheek, which she promptly bit to keep from saying anything.
They quickly wheeled Face straight through the ICU doors and Teige handed the clipboard to an accompanying nurse.
"Prepare one hundred milligrams diphenhydramine and three hundred milligrams of cimetidine. Double check that, stat and get Dr. Handley to sign the order priority - man, it's been forever since I've seen one of these cases." She turned and abruptly stopped the two followers with her raised hand when they tried to follow too. "Nope, it's the end of the line for you two."
"What?" Murdock protested, raising his hands in exasperation. "Why?"
"His respiratory system and vitals need to be stabilized first. As soon as we get him on a constant monitor and the antivenin is administered, then you can see him." Teige cautiously peered at the two. "Maybe. Are you friends or family?"
"Family," Murdock answered without hesitation. That lesson was learned the hard way after the last time he'd been here. He pursed his lips, hoping Teige wasn't now looking at him in that particular way for any signs of resemblance. She sure as hell wouldn't find any.
"Hmm... fine." Teige eyed-up A.J. next. "And what about you?"
"Yes, f-family," she answered, her voice wavering. Teige narrowed her eyes, and in a bout of panic, A.J. gestured to Murdock's hand, and added, "But the snake here is just a friend, of course."
"It's more of an acquaintance actually," Murdock chimed in, resisting the urge to smile. Serious had a much better effect on this woman.
"Family, huh?" Teige rolled her eyes. "Then I'm guessing he's just as bonkers as you both are. I'll be back later when he's ready for visitors. Excuse me..." She passed through the curtain, leaving them standing outside of the triage room.
"Bonkers," Murdock mimicked Teige, eye-roll and all, then heaved a sigh in finality, knowing Face was now in the capable hands of medical professionals. Or so he hoped. He finally let a few chuckles escape. "Nice line with the snake there, Ace. That was pretty classic!"
Their eyes met. His full of relief, exhaustion, amusement. Hers full with worry, exhaustion, panic...
"Oh, for the love of flyin' - come here!" He swooped her up and pulled her close, then felt a rush of relief as she threw her arms around him in return. "I'm so sorry for dragging you out here like this, and for being gone longer than I thought. I couldn't even get to a phone down there, it really was beyond uncivilized. You must've been worried sick."
"I'm fine," she lied though a muffled voice. As her face buried in his chest, her head spun with mental exhaustion; adding to it was the distinct scent of leather. It was an all too-familiar combination. "Just keep me from thinking about the what-ifs had you had been the one bitten up there." She finally looked up at him. "Tell me again he's going to be okay."
"We got him here in plenty of time, he'll be just fine." Finally, it was the moment he'd been waiting for. Heaving a deep sigh, he brushed her lips with his fingertips in anticipation, then closed his eyes and leaned in intently...
"Now hear this! If that unauthorized bucket of bolts isn't off my landing pad in exactly five minutes, I swear to God, I'll push it over the edge myself! That ain't VIP parking up there, dammit! Now, whose is it?!"
"Whoa," she quickly turned towards the angry voice leaving Murdock - and his lips - hanging. "I'd hate to be the neck on the end of that rope - oh no!" Realizing he was talking about her bird, she backed out of their embrace and waved her arms frantically about, trying to catch his attention. "Sir? Sir! It's mine, I'm so sorry, it was an emergency. I'll get her up and out right away and -"
"You!"
Chief 'Mustachio' immediately rushed over, fire raging in his eyes and cheeks burning bright red. The massive fuzz over his lip twitched as he yelled in her face, "You listen to me, young lady - I have a real Med-evac landing up there in less than ten minutes, so get your little hot-patootie ass off my landing pad now!" he turned and walked off in a huff, still in mid-blow up. "Damn Mavericks thinking they own the whole freakin' sky!"
As Mustachio's perturbed voice drifted away, Murdock saw the red tinge appear in her cheeks. It was then that he realized his uncanny ability to throw chaos in her life was getting to be all too familiar.
"Guess I better say sorry for that too, huh?"
Suddenly, she burst out laughing, much to his surprise. When she finally recovered, she explained, "Don't apologize, it's been a long time since I've been yelled at like that. I almost forgot what it was like!" She wiped away a stray tear that had rolled down her cheek. "He reminds me a little of B.A. actually."
"Hmm, 'cept I think the big guy's nicer." He reached out and wiped another tear away. He didn't pull away though, and suddenly realized just how much he'd missed her.
She took his hand and motioned to the ceiling, trying to stay focused. "Listen, I know you want to be here with Face, so I'll take her home now and I can drive right back if you want me to." She looked at her watch. "E.T.A. should be a little after midnight."
He noticed her weary eyes and immediately shook his head, dismissing the idea. "No, I was the one who parked her in the no-parking zone up there. How about I fly her over to Langley Bay instead since it's a lot closer and I'll bring back B.A.'s van. You just sit tight here in case he wakes up and I'll be right back, okay? I'll even grab us some grub on the way."
"You want me to stay here? Oh boy, I don't think I should, Tiger. You know I'm not very good at-"
His lips finally met hers, along with three weeks of pent-up anticipation behind them. Time suddenly froze and he wished he could stay like this forever. Perhaps he could, if he tried hard enough...
"I'm waiting, Mavericks!"
Murdock pulled away at Chief Mustachio's demanding yell. "That's my cue, no time to argue." He offered her a reassuring smile as he quickly backtracked down the hallway, calling out, "Back in forty-five minutes, an hour tops, okay?" As he sprinted down the hallway he was nearly sideswiped by a gurney as he tore around the corner.
"Whoa, hold on there, buddy," The burly Chief Mustachio held his hand out to stop Murdock from entering the elevator back to the roof. "I thought the hot-ass patootie in there was the one taking care of things?"
"Yeah, she took care of things, and I'll be the one doing the departing." He clenched his teeth at the blatant disrespect, then mumbled under his breath, "And you could learn a lesson in manners, Chief. You didn't have to yell at her like that, because she's a real nice-"
"Hey, take it to the preacher and marry it, pal." Chief Mustachio told him, then squared his jaw and flexed his B.A.-like muscles in warning.
"Don't tempt me," Murdock muttered in retort.
"There are hospital procedures in place for a reason and I don't need the review board up my ass." Mustachio eyed up the tall lanky pilot, then added, "So, you want manners, huh? Well, before I clear you for takeoff, I'm going to have to ask to see your pilot's license, sir. Pretty please?" he added with a smirk.
Murdock gulped in a moment of panic, remembering it was a license he'd been without for so long - revoked by the hands of the same people who taught him how to fly in the first place. Then he pulled his wallet from the inside of his jacket pocket, parted the brown leather and plucked the brand-new, still glossy card from the plastic sleeve and held it out, almost smugly.
Chief Mustachio took it, narrowed his eyes as he read the information, then returned it after careful examination. "Okay, Captain H.M. Murdock, you sir, are cleared for immediate takeoff. Just don't let me ever see your face up here again, you understand?"
"Yes, sir." Murdock slipped the license back to his wallet, pocketed it, then returned a mock salute. The elevator doors opened, revealing the awaiting helicopter. "And I hope I never have a reason to," he called back as he quickly climbed into the cockpit and shut the door. As he clicked the safety harness over his chest, he finally let himself relax as he keyed the ignition. Things were finally happening the right way for a change and he drew in a deep breath, ready to howl in relief.
"Yeeeehaa- pee-yew!" He wrinkled his nose at the putrid vomit smell that drifted from the cargo area behind him. "Better clean you out first, pretty gal or your momma's going to have a fit when she gets you back!"
"Miss, did you hear me?"
"Hmm?" Startled, A.J. lifted her chin from her hand and looked up to find Nurse Teige standing in the doorway of the waiting room. She had no idea how much time had passed, a quick glance of her watch confirmed it was nearly midnight. "I'm sorry, I must've fuzzed out - what was that?"
"I said, Mr. Nicholson and he's been moved into a private room. You can see him now, are you coming?"
She quickly stood up, remembering she was supposed to be a worried family member. Hell, the family lie aside, she was worried. "Of course - yes! How's he doing?"
"We're still keeping a close eye on his respiratory systems for any ill-effects, but he looks to be well on the mend. Boy, the stuff he was yapping about earlier though, he's as crazy as that other one." Teige eyed A.J. curiously, then looked behind her. "Speaking of, where's Snakeboy?"
"He had to go move our - uh, vehicle. We double-parked."
"Well, then I guess it's just you and me then. Come on, this way." Nurse Teige led her down the hallway, then motioned her inside the room.
On entering the dimly-lit room, she gulped at the sight of him; wires, tubes and monitors everywhere. This wasn't right, at all. This was something that Murdock, Hannibal or even B.A. would be better suited for. She wasn't supposed to be the one doing this. She wasn't part of the -
"Heyyy, A.J.!" Face flashed a loopy grin from the bed. "Long time no see, kid. What's up?"
"The sky." She grinned back, then pulled up a nearby chair. "Wow, you look so much better than when we first brought you in."
"Mm-hmm, and you look... well, you're the only person I know who can make a flight suit look that good." He winked.
"Gee, thanks." She blushed. He was definitely out of it. "They give you some good meds there, Face?"
"Yeah, for the pain and some antivenin-nom," he slurred.
"Good news is you shouldn't be here too much longer," she reassured him. "The nurse said a mandatory twenty-four hour stay, and depending on how you are after, you can go home."
"Ah, home." He took her hand and held it. "L.A. is quite the home, you know. When I'm outta here, we're gonna have to hit downtown to celebrate. There's dining, dancing - hey, we'll be the dynamic duo, Face and Ace!" He beamed at the rhyme.
She smiled, amused at the thought. "But Face, we're in D.C. not L.A., remember?"
"Oh yeah, that's right." He sighed at the pitiful thought, then his eyes lit up. "We could still hit downtown D.C. You know, we really could be great together, ever think about it?"
"Face," she warned.
"We even have the same rank, right? Two equal halves. So, whaddaya say - wanna try out the ol' Kissy Face just to make sure, hmm?" He wagged his eyebrows, then puckered his lips.
She grinned back at the thought, then leaned his way. Intently. "Say, Face?"
"Mm... yeah, Ace?" His eyes, sparkling with anticipation - and obvious intoxication, closed as she neared.
"Shut up."
He opened his eyes to see her playfully glaring at him. "Well, can't blame me for trying. Hey, you wanna know what's funny? Murdock told me the exact same thing earlier today."
"Why, did you try to kiss him too?"
"No!" He snickered hard at the thought, then looked around. "Hey, where is Murdock anyway - wasn't he here earlier?"
"Oh, he'll be back soon, we had to clear the helipad after we dropped you off." She pointed at the ceiling. "You don't want to know how much they charge by the hour to park up there."
His chuckles escalated into full-on laughter. "Thanks again for the ride... getting tired again, stuff is really kicking my tail." He closed his eyes as the medication overtook him.
She smiled, then squeezed his hand. "Go ahead and rest then. I'll be here and I'm sure H.M. will be back soon... bet he can't wait to see how you're doing." As he started drifting off, she leaned over and whispered softly, "Hey, Face?"
"Hmm?"
"I was thinking - you should try your moves on that nurse out there."
"Oh yeah?" He smiled at the idea, eyes still closed. "What's her name?"
"Teige, and believe me, she looks like she could use a little excitement."
"Hah, really?" He seemed enthused at the thought. "Well, maybe I'll give her a shot after she uh, gives me mine. You know you're a good pal, fellow Lieutenant... thanks."
She leaned back in her chair and watched him drift off. Now alone with her thoughts, she looked to the T.V. in the corner of the room, hoping to pass the time and reached into her pocket to retrieve a familiar, well-worn deck of cards.
"... and heeeeeeere's Johnny!"
As the T.V. introduced Johnny Carson to the late show, she suddenly felt a hand drop on her shoulder. She smiled and instinctively reached up to hold it in a rush of relief, grateful Murdock had finally returned. But instead of his familiar warm touch, she felt the texture of cool leather and abruptly looked up in surprise.
"Hey there, kid."