Chapter 6 - Back to the Grind, Don Quixote
A/N - *red alert* Flashback fill-in fluff and implied relations incoming. *red alert*
Your mind can play tricks, makes you what you want to be.
Just like superheroes, you saw them on T.V.
Coast to coast, wall to wall; got to go, duty calls. Here I am.
Superman, Lois Lane; saved the world, back again. Here I am.
Don Quixote, what do you say? Are we proud? Are we brave?
...or just crazy? ~ Nik Kershaw (1985)
There were so many ways to describe business. Work, métier, nine-to-five, the grind, enterprise. Whatever one chose to call it, Murdock knew it was time to get back to it. It put money in his wallet, food in the stomach, go-juice in the bird - now birds. But most importantly, it fulfilled a much needed sense of purpose during his mission down-time that he'd so desperately been searching for.
The civilian job industry had certainly thrown him for a loop, but his talent for pretending had come in handy. Sure, he could act as if he were a full-time kennel attendant, a sewer worker, a line-cook, or any of the other plethora of jobs that had come and gone since his move to the East Coast. He did it with ease too - the same ease as when he pulled off the insanity for fifteen years to have an ironically stable roof over his head.
Yes, he was the great pretender, and he could pretend to be anything he wanted until the moo-cows came home. But there was only one thing that truly defined who he really was, besides lurking in the shadows as the unknown forth member of the A-Team.
Born to run? Nope, born to fly is more like it. Sorry, Bossman!
There he sat, gripping the cyclic at his seasoned age of forty years, and felt the exact same tingle of excitement in his chest as the first time he laid eyes on a little OH-thirteen Sioux chopper at the Army flight school in Fort Wolters, Texas. It was there in nineteen sixty-five that he discovered he was born to fly - the first indication being he hadn't crashed in the simulator like so many of the other new recruits. The second was graduating at the top of his class. The third was returning to HQ alive, again and again in the blaring heat of war.
He considered the art of piloting a spectrum of sorts. Plumbers would always try and force the bird into complete submission, counteracting its natural glide with unnatural, jerky movements. True Aces could fly in smooth sync with the bird; actually melding with her in a sense and coaxing her gently - like a nudge, or a gentle whisper on the wind. He was the latter, of course.
He was born for this, and in a strange and crazy way, he sometimes felt like the bird too - only because his co-pilot had an uncanny ability to coax and nudge him as well. Catching a quick glance of her out of the corner of his eye, he saw her loosely gripping the adjacent cyclic, studying his technique like braille. By the look on her face, he knew she was born for it too. Bred for it actually; her smile was reminiscent of the exact same one that rested in her father's pictures tucked in the cockpit windshield. It brought on an all too familiar flip of his stomach, as did the G-forces as they quickly descended to the ground.
He let the bird float briefly to blow all the snow off the helipad, then gently set her down right in the center of the marked landing area.
"Bulls-eye..."
As the blades came to a slow halt, they pulled off their headsets in unison and hurried through the shutdown checklist in tandem.
She reached for the cockpit handle, then looked at him sheepishly, "I don't mean to ditch you like this, but I left one of my clients hanging last night, remember?"
"Aw, come on, Ace. Can't it wait?" he called after her as she jumped from the cockpit and immediately rushed for the hangar.
"Business before pleasure, Tiger. I have a hop to reschedule!"
"What about my hop?" he muttered as he slid out of the cockpit.
"Later!" she teased.
He heaved a cleansing sigh of fresh air, which was now cold enough to creep into his flight jacket. With yesterday's excitement now out of the way, he could slow down and truly reflect on this place he slowly learned to call his second home. Aside from the loud whirl of mechanical blades, quite frequently - it was quiet here; peaceful...
"Beautiful," he said to himself as she watched the last of her disappear inside the hangar, then looked to the helicopter at his side. "Yeah, you too - you're quite the pretty bird yourself!" he told the mechanical beast, then walked around her in post-flight inspection, letting his hand trace over the sleek metal and rivets. His pride swelled; knowing there was a part of him buried deep beneath her frame in which they'd rebuilt, then recalled the last time they took the Langley to Maryland hop six months ago...
"Aaaaaand touchdown, Ace! Home safe and sound..."
As soon as the skids hit the platform, they both reached for the engine shut down at the same time. Their hands bumped, but neither moved.
"Whoops - sorry, Captain."
"By all means, I insist. She is your bird after all... Lieutenant," he teased, pulling rank.
She was the first one to pull away, reaching in her jumpsuit pocket instead. "I have something else to do, Have at her, Tiger."
As he flipped the rest of the switches of the shutdown procedure, he watched as she wedged two black and white photos back in the corner of her windshield.
After exchanging a knowing glance, they hopped out in tandem. Murdock inspected the hull, intently running his hand over each rivet and the occasional ricochet, then slapped his hand on the chopper's tail and grinned at the fact that it held together this time.
"See, what'd I tell you? One-hundred percent fixed!"
"I really didn't think it was possible." She shook her head in amazement, then looked at him with eyes full of excitement. "But you did it, Tiger... you did it!"
"We did it." He raised an eyebrow intently, then cocked a half-smile.
She blushed, yet couldn't help but tease, "I know, I was there, remember?"
After a moment of nervous chuckling, his intent gaze stared her way as he did remember, then took her hand. "Listen, I'm real sorry I can't take that job... with my lack of license and all. I'll still try to stop over anytime I can to - you know, check up on... on her maintenance."
"You don't have to do that," she told him, her eyes telling a completely different story. "Dad's squad stop by all the time to help with that. They know what they're doing."
"No, I - I want to." A proud smugness washed over him as he caressed her hand. "Besides, I'm willing to bet none of those other guys know anything about those new modifications I installed."
"Please stop that," she whispered.
"Stop what?" He looked down at their hands, wondering if she'd meant that.
"Making sense." She traced his weary face. "You're amazing, Tiger; and not just how you fly. We'll find some way to get you up there flying legit."
As he smiled back at the thought, a yawn erupted from his lips. If any day had been a long one, it was...
"C'mon, Tiger. You're absolutely exhausted." She pulled him to the hangar, telling him, "I'll call you a cab so you can get back home too."
But his apartment was the furthest thing from his mind, and he made his point clear when she'd only gotten three steps to her office desk, before he was pulling her to the small private quarters in the back...
"I have a better idea..."
Business before pleasure.
The old axiom looped continuously in his head as looked at the door to the same room they'd shared that night. It was the only thing keeping him from picking her up and getting back to business right then and there. But patience was a virtue; and after heaving a sigh of frustration, he realized he had quite the task ahead of him after all - animal control inspection. A smile spread across his face while he studied his new prized possession, ready to start a new chapter in his 'flight-life'.
As he climbed into the cockpit, he glanced briefly at his partner - who in no time at all was at their shared office desk and dialing the phone while the radio softly played in the background.
"Mr. Dunham? Hi, this is A.J. Parker from Aces Charter. I was just calling to personally apologize for missing our appointment yesterday evening. I had a family emergency arise that needed my immediate attention. Yes, I'm so glad you understand the situation - I also would like to make it up to you, at no charge."
Murdock pulled away from the plane in surprise, then stared at her in disbelief. Was she serious?
"Yes, I'm serious, Mr. Dunham," she answered, kicking her feet up on the desk as she chatted. "Because I know how much you were looking forward to your tour last night and I want to make things right. Okay, same time tonight? You got it, eight o'clock. And I want to make it absolutely clear - if I'm not there tonight, you have my permission to report me to the BBB, okay?" Her gentle laughter was heard after. "Okay then, see you tonight." She set the phone back on the cradle and looked his way with a smile. "Nice guy!"
He raised his eyebrows in surprise as he heard Face's voice drift in his head.
Ever think she might be a getting little too busy with us being gone all the time?
"Hey, just how nice are we talking here?" He blurted out in a panic.
She looked at him with sparkling eyes and answered dreamily, "Nice enough to take his new wife up for a romantic view of the city on their honeymoon. I felt so bad for standing them up last night, I just had to make it up to them."
He breathed a sigh of relief as he returned to the inspection. When she finally abandoned her work altogether to join him, he was already headfirst inside the bird among various paneling and wiring.
"You never cease to amaze me, Tiger." She circled the plane, running her hand over the plane's silvery hull, "I hear stories about how guys bring home stray dogs all the time, but you..." She peered underneath, then curiously asked, "Is she an eighty-two?"
"Eighty-one," he called back from inside the cockpit. "And don't count out the dog just yet, I might bring one of those around one day."
"Thanks for the warning," she chuckled.
She didn't even shoot down the idea of a dog... by golly.
She quickly scrambled onto the Yak's wing to peer inside and longingly stared at the empty cockpit in anticipation. "So, have you seen any sign of more snakes in there? Because if I don't get to sit in her soon, I swear I'm going to go cra-"
He immediately looked up, and noticed her uncomfortable wince. "Hey, you can say it - it's okay."
She shook her head, knowing that particular word would try not be uttered by her ever again, lighthearted or otherwise. "Bonkers," she mimicked Nurse Teige, then continued on as if she hadn't been sidetracked seconds beforehand. "I'm seriously going to go bonkers if you don't let me sit in there. I mean it!"
And he knew by the expression on her face that she meant it. Amused, he turned his attention from inspecting the airplane to inspecting her. Flight suit; flight boots - more than adequate protection. "Okay, okay, go ahead. I'm pretty convinced that snake was a solo flyer, but if you see anything, and I mean anything, you high tail it outta there and fast, you got it?"
"Wow, protective, aren't we?" she teased as she finally slid into the pilot's seat.
He rolled his eyes. If she only knew.
"Wow, look at her!" Her hands instinctively clutched the yoke, then to the panels to inspect the gauges. "Man, it's too bad we can't go up right now, gotta wait until the snow melts first." She closed her eyes and sighed. "Oh well, I can imagine it until then. So what are you going to do with her, become an air-show stunt pilot?" she teased.
Murdock's eyes widened. That idea hadn't even crossed his mind and a grin spread across his face at the thought. Hell, a year ago he had no means of even dreaming about such things - he was scooping up dog feces, only a mere week after his comrades had been so called 'executed'.
"Maybe... one day. But I had some ideas flying around in my head already. As Hannibal says, try to stick to the original plan best you can. In fact, I have a question for you - have you ever heard of a little something called titanium tetrachloride?"
"Huh? Tiger, it's been a long time since college chemistry, what's that?"
"It's also known as tickle."
"Oh, yes I know what that is - it's what they throw in the fuel mix to - ohh!"
He knelt down on the wing beside the cockpit so he could see her expression - which was nothing but pure wonderment.
"Seriously... skywriting?"
He grinned, absolutely loving the fact that he didn't have to explain it. "Do you know how much people will actually pay for this? I bet anything I could have your profit margin almost doubled before next year. The startup should be a cinch too, it'll be another Wild Ace service provided by yours truly. I'll need a little practice with the long range radios so you can guide me on my timing, but..."
As he rambled on, he could tell that his excitement was contagious as she listened intently. Any regular average Joe would've shrugged his idea off as crazy just about now. "What do you think, Ace?"
"I think it's brilliant!"
"Really?" Seeing her enthusiastic reaction brought on his relaxed, gentle smile. "Well, it's your shot to call on this..."
"No, it's not - fifty-fifty partners per our agreement. If you want to go try being a smoke rider, go for it." She then leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I trust you."
"Only trust?" he grinned slyly.
Her eyes softened as she leaned over again and this time she met his lips, answering his question with a gentle caress of her tongue.
After unrolling his eyes from the back of his head, he drew in a deep heavy breath and quickly glanced at the cockpit behind her.
Three weeks... to hell with business for awhile!
"Say, Ace - why don't you climb aboard and let Ol' Howlin' Mad here give you a fixed wing lesson."
"You know darn well I don't need a..." She recognized his intent expression as he climbed in the cockpit behind her and could almost see the devil horns protruding from his blue hat as he slapped his legs in emphasis, motioning her to join him. "Oh!" Wasting no time, she eased onto his lap, just low enough that she could shut the bubble canopy overhead. "Tight squeeze," she murmured, realizing they were 'sardine in the can' packed in.
"You ever driven a tank before? Now that's a tight squeeze." He relaxed as she leaned back against him and he wrapped his arms around her midsection. "Welcome aboard Howlin' Mad's wild and crazy flight, better prepare for takeoff - wait, do you hear that?"
"What?" She drew in a quick breath and looked at him worriedly, whispering, "It's not a snake, is it?"
"No, it's sounds like..." he listened intently. No yells from a mental institution hallway; no yells through thin apartment walls; both a distant memory. "...sanity."
When her lips pressed into his neck in reply, there was only one thing yelling at him now, his libido. "Believe me when I say, there's only one snake in here," he whispered in her ear, "and you're closer to it than you think."
"Oh, really?" she sputtered through giggles, then quickly looked around. "You know, uh, we have some room in here."
"In here, huh?" he wagged his eyebrows, then playfully narrowed his eyes. "Hey, I thought you said you weren't that kinda gal."
She knowingly grinned. "I said, 'not in a car'."
"Oh wow, so you have a wild streak after all, do you?" His eyes lit up and he wasted no time tugging at her flight suit zipper. Business now ceased to exist, especially when his eyes followed her hand as it fell to his... then back to meet her gaze.
"Wild thing, I... think I love you," he sang, uttering the familiar guitar riff, as he closed his eyes and belted out the rest as she leaned over, holding him tight...
"...but I wanna knooow for sure!"