Murdock looked through the corner of his eye at Jean as she watched him from where she sat on the bed, with one of the pillows in a death grip in her arms and pressed against her chest; watched as he poured the two glasses full of wine. Hannibal had agreed three days was time enough for the drugs to leave Jean's system so there wouldn't be any reactions to the alcohol.

It was 2 o' clock in the morning, and this was the third night that Jean hadn't gotten any sleep, and it had shown long before now. But now…it burned his eyes just to look at her. Her eyes were a whole new shade of bloodshot with two bags turning into alligator suitcases under them. The Hydromorphone had stopped working three days ago; Jean had woken up at 3 o' clock in the morning, in pain, and in a newfound bout of insomnia. He'd sat up with her the rest of the night watching TV, figuring she would nod off sometime before the sun came up, but he was wrong. She'd gone through the day like a zombie, by that time she was tired but she still couldn't sleep.

Murdock hadn't been too worried by that, he'd had his own share of occasional sleepless nights followed by equally sleepless days. But when the next night passed and she still couldn't sleep, then he started to get concerned because he knew this was not normal for Jean. Once again he stayed up with her, they watched TV for a while, then he tried reading her to sleep but apparently she found Alice Through the Looking Glass to be too stimulating and so defeated the purpose. They also tried lying in bed in the dark and being quiet but that didn't have any effect on her either. In the middle of the night, not really expecting it to have any effect on her current sleep behavior, but figuring since they were both up he might as well tell her, Murdock told her about his fight with Cynthia Morrison and Jean just grinned at his recollection of what happened to her. When he finished summing up the gory details she only said, "I wish I'd been there to see that, see it hell, I would've joined in."

But the night passed and she still didn't get any sleep. Short of drugging her again, the next day he tried everything he could think of to put Jean to sleep; he'd even brought Face in to talk to her about his latest money plans based on a finance course he had taken a while back. It put Murdock in a coma but when he finally came around two hours later, Jean was still wide awake with half opened eyes and no signs of dropping off anytime soon as Face continued to bore her to death.

She'd been feeling the effects of her insomnia almost immediately but as time progressed it only got worse. First she just tripped when she walked and stayed down longer before getting back up again. She would talk and then wind down halfway through a sentence and close her eyes for a minute before opening them again and resuming what she was saying. Then she fell on the floor and stayed there, but complained of seasickness because the carpeted floor was rising and falling like waves on the ocean. That was when Murdock knew they had to get her to bed and do something to make her sleep.

Finally, Murdock had consulted Hannibal about the problem, hoping that the Colonel might have a solution he hadn't already thought of. Hannibal listened to the situation and in his usual slow and calm demeanor, explained to Murdock, "There are only two things outside of drugs that can successfully put someone to sleep, the first one is either one good strong drink, or much of a slightly less potent one."

"And what's the other thing?" Murdock asked.

Hannibal grinned mischievously like a naughty little boy and said, "If you were still married, I would suggest it."

So Murdock had opted for a little more wine to try sedating Jean than a little less, lot stronger option of whiskey; he picked up the glasses and turned to her and took pity on her. Three days without sleep and already she looked like she was about to die from it, and he knew that she felt every bit of it. He smiled a little, wanting her to see that he was on her side; he knew how a few days without any sleep could unleash the paranoid tendencies in people. He gave her one glass and she took it in both hands and just about wrapped her mouth around the whole top of the cut glass goblet, but she stopped at the last second and looked back up to him and said, "I'd rather have your glass."

"Why?" he asked.

Jean smiled coyly and answered, "More booze."

He told her, "They're both exactly the same," but he switched with her anyway.

Jean sipped the wine and said, "I need to sleep…I may die from this."

He smiled sympathetically and told her, "You'll be fine, you just need to get some sleep, and when you wake up you'll feel like a whole new person."

"Oh no," Jean groaned, "Now I have to get another name put on my deed."

Murdock laughed and said, "Hey you've got to get your rest, you remember Hannibal telling you about that Hollywood Halloween party he's going to?"

"Yeah," Jean replied, "Going as his own agent, I can think of better costumes."

"He said that we're all going," Murdock told her.

"All of us, how come?" Jean asked.

Murdock shrugged and said, "Safety in numbers I guess, anyway everybody there's going to be in costume."

"Murdock, in Hollywood all that means is going as yourself and seeing if anybody recognizes you," she said.

"Well, have you figured out yet what you're going to be?" he asked her.

Jean fell back on the bed and nodded, "What about you?"

"I'm still working on it," he answered, "In fact I think I may need to sort through your side of the closet and find something to borrow."

Jean pointed towards the closet and said, "Be my guest."

Murdock went over to the closet, opened the door and rummaged through everything on the hangers and he picked things out one by one, held them up to himself and tossed them around the room, exclaiming, "Ugly…out of date…this makes me look fat…I look like I'm my own Grandpa…Hannibal was right, you don't have a single dress in here, do you?"

"What do you want a dress for?" Jean asked.

"Well it's not to try and get a date, that's for sure," he replied.

Jean tiredly ran one hand through her hair and commented, "I would hope not."

Murdock caught a glimpse of her reflection in the full length mirror on the closet door and saw her movements were fewer and far between and her reflexes were slowing down immensely. Maybe she would finally fall asleep, if she would just stay asleep…he let out the breath he'd been holding onto when her eyes opened and she sat up again.

"I'm never going to get any sleep," she said.

"You will," Murdock assured her, "If I have to chloroform you like a hostage."

"Three days," Jean reminded him, "At this rate you may just have to." Something caught her eye and she turned to the side and looked like she'd seen a ghost. Without moving her head she called over to the closet, "Murdock, your dog is staring at me again."

"Billy, get off the bed," Murdock said without turning around, "I told you before not to bother Jean when she ain't feeling well."

"Murdock," Jean said.

"Huh?"

"Murdock, I just had a thought," Jean told him, "Why do you think B.A.'s always saying that Billy isn't real? That he's always saying there's no dog?"

"We been over this before, Saint," Murdock replied. He was going on about as little sleep as she was and he wasn't in the mood for repeating a previous conversation they'd had more than once.

"Murdock, what does B.A. always say when you bring up Billy?" Jean asked.

Murdock turned around and said, "He calls Billy an invisible dog, why?"

"Invisible," Jean repeated, "Not imaginary…he never says Billy is an imaginary dog, but an invisible dog…do you think there could be a connection to why he always gets high strung when Billy's around?"

A three-way light bulb went off in the pilot's head as a realization came over him, "You think B.A. does see Billy and doesn't want to see him?"

"Could be," Jean said, "Otherwise why wouldn't Billy be imaginary just like everything else you come up with?"

A devilish smirk came over Murdock and he started snickering like a school boy waiting for the teacher to sit on a tack. Jean could tell he was anticipating using this to mess with B.A. the next chance he got. Jean leaned back and stretched as she yawned but she lost her balance and fell off the bed; once again Murdock proved he would've done well as a catcher on any baseball team as he slid and caught her just before she fell head first on the floor. He groaned as he lifted her back up onto the bed and told her, "Keep this up and I'm going to have an extra large crib custom built for you, that ought to make sure you don't fall out again."

Jean didn't respond to that comment and instead she said, "Murdock…I'd like another glass of wine."

And who was to say she'd be any worse off for it? Murdock poured them both another glass and pressed hers into her hands to make sure she had a firm grip on it, he clinked his glass with hers and drank when she drank. When Jean emptied her glass and set it on the nightstand, she said, "Reminds me before we were married, 'member? At the hotel, after the diner was fire bombed…'f I wasn't sick it would've been a lot of fun."

He smiled and said, "I remember, I remember you got sore at me for pouring wine and whiskey down your throat every time you opened your mouth."

Jean smiled as she closed her eyes and recalled, "Said you was worse than a rehab doctor, back when they believed in overindulgence to lead to abstinence."

"And then you slept for two days," he recalled.

"Boy that would be nice right about now," Jean said with a sigh as she fell back against the pillows.

Murdock leaned over and kissed Jean on her forehead and he told her, "You'll go to sleep, and if you don't, you'll be in good company."

Jean smiled sadly and said, "No, you need to sleep, don't worry about me."

"Well now you know if that was possible, I would," he replied teasingly, "As it stands, I can't so I won't, I love you too much for that."

"You love me," Jean grunted, "And where's that gotten you?"

"I don't know where it's gotten me," Murdock answered as he gently slipped his arms around her to hug her, "But I've sure had a lot of fun on the way to getting there."

Jean pushed him back and she pulled herself to sit up on her knees, "I'm going to die if I don't get some sleep soon."


Like Hannibal and Face, B.A. knew what was going on, he knew that Jean hadn't slept in three days and he also knew that Murdock hadn't either in trying to keep her company. He also knew that Murdock was executing every single trick he knew to try and help her and B.A. knew that they all meant nobody was going to get much rest for all the noise. Noise he expected, but it hadn't been any normal noise he'd heard as he passed by the door to the master bedroom as he headed to his own room to call it a night and go to bed. There hadn't really been any way to describe the sound he'd heard, except for:

THUNK!

A single, solitary sound, but there seemed to be an echo with it, or maybe not, maybe it had been two THUNKS so close together that they almost sounded like one, except for the last single vibration of the sound. He'd heard that sound plenty of times over the years, he knew what it was, he just couldn't place it, the answer was on the tip of his tongue. And then it hit him, that was the sound of a body hitting the floor. He stopped outside the door and listened, no other sounds inside the bedroom. B.A. even pressed his ear against the door to see if he could pick up any other sounds, but there were none.

"Murdock," he quietly rapped on the door, "You okay?"

No answer. He didn't like the sound of that either. He turned the knob and went in. The lights were still on and he could see everything in the room; and one of the first things he saw was the two bodies on the floor, that by now looked like one big mutation, a tangle of human limbs and two heads side by side, both with closed eyes, and both chests rose and fell in time with one another as even their breathing seemed synchronized. B.A. looked down at the two of them and smiled, he guessed even for someone as crazy as Murdock, three days without any sleep had to be his limit.

Now that just left the matter of what to do with the two of them. On one hand it would be very easy to pick them up one by one and put them in the bed; or he could probably even lift one up with each arm and walk them over the short distance and get them settled in. But, on the other hand, any sudden movements might wake Jean up and that was the last thing any of them needed, especially her; so he went with his next plan and yanked the pillows, bedspread and top sheet off the bed, then, carefully so he didn't wake either of them up, he slipped one pillow under Murdock's head and placed another beside him incase Jean rolled off of him in the night, and covered them both with the blankets, then he went back towards the door, shut the lights off on his way out and closed the door behind him.


Murdock felt something under him and he reached down with his hand and felt around underneath him for the foreign object and he found it, and was shocked awake when he felt fingers and somebody's hand. There was a hand underneath him, and when he woke up, and sat up on the floor, he realized that he'd fallen asleep on his own hand, and now it too was asleep and had no feeling all the way up to his elbow. He shook his arm and curled and flexed his fingers to get the blood circulating through them again, and when some feeling finally returned to his hand, it occurred to Murdock that he was on the floor instead of in bed. He turned to his side and saw Jean asleep on the floor beside him, or so he thought. As he turned over to get in a more comfortable position she asked him, "What time is it?"

He reached up and blindly fumbled over the nightstand to find the clock, and he pulled it down to him and turned it over every which way before he read the hands and tiredly answered, "Five o' clock."

Jean opened her eyes, barely, "A.M. or P.M.?"

"I don't know," Murdock answered, then, finding a little more strength in himself he tilted his head back and called out barely over a whisper, "Anybody else up?" hearing nothing he said, "Must be A.M."

"Then we can get a couple more hours' sleep," Jean said.

"Yeah," Murdock agreed, "But let's get off the floor."

"Hmm," Jean half snorted and said as she rolled on her side, "You'll have to carry me, I'm too weak to get up."

"I can do that," Murdock mumbled as he pushed himself up onto his knees and worked his way up to standing on his feet.

He put the pillows back on the bed and replaced the covers and then he bent down, grabbed Jean, stood her up like a life sized marionette puppet and pushed her over to the bed and pushed her onto it. She was already about asleep again, and it wouldn't take much for him to join her. Before he did though, he took notice of how while Jean was asleep, her jeans had gotten twisted to the side so much the zipper was practically on her hip. He grabbed the waistband of her jeans and yanked the material back into place, pulled the seam of her T-shirt back around to the side and then climbed into bed alongside her. As he pulled the covers up on them, he turned over and kissed Jean and said to her, "Goodnight, Jean."

Jean grumbled something through her closed mouth in response and didn't even move.

Three days without any sleep caught up with both of them, they didn't wake up again until 4 o' clock that afternoon. When they got up, Jean padded down the hall to the bathroom and took a shower, and when she came out wrapped in two of the towels, Murdock was the next in line and he turned the water on cold because despite sleeping for 14 hours, he still felt half asleep. He got dressed and went back to the bedroom and found Jean on the floor, still covered in the large bath towels, and she was laughing as she cradled one of his shoes in her hands, and Murdock was worried.

"Saint, you okay?" he asked as he crouched down on the floor beside her.

Jean looked down at his shoe and laughed again before she looked up at him and said, "Oh boy, Murdock, your shoes are shabby, they're so faded and worn out, so ratty…why don't you get a new pair? They do still make them you know."

Murdock smiled and said, "I guess it never occurred to me, I've had these for so long, and they're not falling apart yet."

"Not yet but soon," Jean swore, "You wait, give them enough time and they won't be sneakers anymore, they'll be Chuck Taylor spats." For some reason she found that idea hysterical and fell back on the floor.

"Somehow I get the idea we better get you back in bed," Murdock said as he bent down, grabbed her under her armpits and pulled her to her feet. He took his shoe from her and dropped it on the floor and escorted Jean back over to the bed and helped her get in to lie down and he covered her up. Then, a wave of fatigue hit him again as well, so he went around to the other side of the bed and got back in alongside her, before he hit the floor.

They lay like that for a couple of minutes, flat on their backs, perfectly still, when Jean turned her head to the side to see Murdock and she called over to him. He forced his eyes open and looked over to her to see what it was she wanted.

"Murdock," she said tiredly, "I love you."

Murdock smiled though he figured she was still probably hung over and not quite all together yet, and he replied, "I love you too."

Jean had a slight slur in her speech still as she told him, "I love you very much and I would like to be married to you again someday, just not anytime soon."

Murdock turned his body to the side to match his head and he propped himself up on one elbow and said tiredly in response, "Well that's fine, Jean, there's no rush." Somehow he knew that there wasn't anything wrong with her current frame of mind, she was as lucid now in her statement to him as she would be wide awake and stone cold sober.

"Oh yeah?" she asked, "What about Hannibal? Remember what you said about him?"

Murdock smirked and said, "He's already waited 10 years to become a grandpa, he can wait a little longer."

Jean laughed and she rolled onto her side and leaned over to kiss him. He placed his hands lightly on her cheeks and returned the gesture and rolled her back onto her side of the bed and raised himself up slightly over her so he could lean down and kiss her without applying any pressure to her ribs that were still recovering. After about a minute, exhaustion won both of them over and Murdock moved back to his own side of the bed, but before he got settled in to go back to sleep, he took one of the pillows from behind his head and placed it between the two of them as a partition and also to keep Jean's ribs from getting bumped by anything while they were asleep. Very quickly they both fell asleep, though still craving human contact, Murdock reached over in his sleep and gripped Jean's hand tightly in his; unconsciously Jean returned the iron hold on his own hand.

And that, Hannibal decided as he watched from where he stood by the slightly ajar door, was his cue to get out of there. With a knowing smirk on his face he quietly closed the door, picked up his bag and made his way over to the stairs, and down them where Face and B.A. were waiting.

"Well?" Face asked.

"They're fine," Hannibal answered, "Now we can get out of here, and go home."

"Hallelujah," Face dryly remarked, "It's about time."

Hannibal chuckled and said, "Oh come on, Face, you know you're going to miss them."

"I'd like the chance to," he replied, "It seems every time we leave this place we come right back to it."

"Well, not this time," Hannibal told him as they headed out the front door, "Like I said before, we were in the way too much the first time, now we've got to give them a break and leave them alone for a while. Besides," he added, "I have a sneaky suspicion that most of the time we've spent here wasn't just for their benefit, instead I have the idea that it was so I'd have four vultures hovering over me at all times to make sure I wasn't about to kick the bucket."

He wasn't able to read much from the sergeant and lieutenant's faces but all the same it said something to him that he wasn't far off from the truth, he grinned at them and said, "Murdock and Jean aren't the only ones who will benefit from being left alone for a while, I'm certainly old enough I don't need a nanny watching over me at all times."

Face opened his mouth to say something in response and raised his hand as he started to point in a gesture but B.A. slapped his hand down and muttered something to him to be quiet. They got in the van and left, Hannibal took a final look back towards the house and commented, "Somehow I get the strangest feeling that we're not rid of them yet," and already he was anticipating another late-night visit from them to his apartment, banging on the door with hammers and ringing the bell.


Murdock and Jean didn't come over to his apartment to see him that night. He waited, he anticipated their arrival and in fact when he went to bed, he laid down on his couch figuring he would be closer to the door that way when they started the ruckus announcing their midnight visit. But they never came, the bell never rang, there was no pounding on the door, and he fell asleep on the couch waiting for them.

He didn't see them the next day at the studio either; which in itself wasn't too odd because Jean wasn't currently needed for any of her scenes since one of the leading men she was supposed to star opposite of was out with a wrenched ankle, and shooting had to be postponed until further notice. Murdock didn't come in to work either, which also had a logical explanation because they weren't using any choppers either for stunts or filming from. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation at every turn to explain why they weren't anywhere to be seen, but all the same it sat heavy on both his gut and his heart.

When he got back to his apartment that night he went over to the coffee table where he kept a bare minimum of framed photographs, but one was a picture he'd had taken two months back when they were staying at Jean's house. He had wanted an updated photo of the two of them together, and they were obviously different from their beach garb at the hotel, but they still looked very much like that first picture taken of them. Hannibal refused to consciously acknowledge what was bothering him and instead entertained the notion that the pain in his stomach could be an ulcer. But he knew what the truth of the matter was, unfortunately he was about as successful at fooling himself as he was his fellow Teammates.

As he found a chair and sat down, he looked at the framed picture and with a sad smile he thought about how this must be what parents felt when their grown children moved out and went to college, or got their own home, or when they got married and suddenly that heartbreaking feeling of losing one child instead of gaining another through the in-law process started to sink in. This was the first time that his captain and his honorary corporal were alone together in Jean's house, without the three of them barging in or being in the way. It seemed ridiculous that it had taken this long to reach that point, especially since the marriage was dead now.

He thought back to when he was in the hospital, he remembered waking up and Jean was in the other bed trying to sleep, because Murdock hadn't let anyone sleep as he watched over Hannibal. He remembered Murdock's confession when the two of them were alone in the room, few moments in his life ever made him feel more like a father than in that instant when Murdock revealed his fear that Hannibal would die before he had a chance to be a grandfather. And he remembered all four of them standing over him later that night, all worried out of their minds that he was going to die; he also remembered how they had all grabbed him when he fell asleep, as if they were worried they were losing him that instant.

He also remembered before the hospital, as time passed he was able to remember bits and pieces from his delusional escapade; and he remembered being tied down in the back of the van, with B.A. sitting by his side the entire trip to make sure he didn't get loose and hurt himself. Also, he remembered Face, every step of the way, no matter what happened, no matter how horrible he had acted due to his fever, Face had always been there on the front line tending to everything, making sure Hannibal was resting, that he got the best treatment possible, also making sure he was never left alone in the hospital room during his recovery, lest they need to make a quick exit at a moment's notice. And he also remembered the way Amy burst in through the door and ran towards him as soon as she came to the house, screaming at him about making her worry herself gray and wrinkled. No, he didn't need any new kids to keep him busy or to make him happy, because he figured he would have his hands full with the five he already had for several more years to come.

Hannibal held off on calling Murdock for a couple of days, wanting them to feel the gravity of their newfound life alone from the others. When he did call, Jean answered, though he could hear Murdock in the background uttering things like 'ugly', 'out of style', and 'farm animals would love this'.

"Is everything alright there, Jean?" he couldn't help asking.

"Sure, we're fine, just getting ready for the big Hollywood party," Jean answered with a sarcastic laugh, "Murdock's trying to put some finishing touches on his costume."

"Oh yeah? What's he going as?" Hannibal asked.

"You'll have to wait and see," she answered.

"Then what're you going to be?" he asked.

"I'm not telling you that either," she said.

"Hey listen, kid," Hannibal wanted to make sure he had her attention, "Are you going to be coming in to work tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Jean answered, "I have to, whole reason I agreed to do this movie was for the money."

"Well I might have a little piece of good news for you," he told her, "I talked to the producers and I pointed out how fortunate they were to have you working with them given the extremes you go to in order to deliver a superb performance, and I managed to talk them into upping your weekly pay."

"Are you serious?" Jean asked.

"Yes, now it's $4,000 a week instead of $2,000, I figure that ought to help you fill up the mousetrap a little easier, that means what, in three weeks' time you'll have back the money you took out for Murdock's little surprise?"

He could hear Jean laughing on the other end of the line and she said, "I don't believe you, how could you manage to swing that?"

"Well you know I act as my own agent," Hannibal told her, "In order to do that I have to be pretty convincing, don't I?"

"Either that or catch the producers when they're drunk," Jean replied.

"Well that doesn't hurt either," he said with a knowing grin, "So tell me, Jean, how's the newfound singles life treating you?"

"Well there's certainly never a dull moment around here, that's for sure," she told him, "Lot quieter now without you guys here though."

"I would imagine," he replied.


Halloween night came and Hannibal, Face and B.A. went to Jean's house to pick she and Murdock up. As they got out of B.A.'s Rambler convertible, which it had been decided to use it tonight as it could provide just as quick of an escape and draw less attention to them than their trademark van, and went up the sidewalk to the porch, Hannibal could hear Face snickering.

"I'm still having trouble figuring out why a vampire," Hannibal told him, "Unless you're just trying to plant your fangs in someone tonight."

"You watch, Hannibal," Face said as he readjusted his new teeth as they headed up to the door, "I'll bet you this'll scare the daylights out of Murdock."

Hannibal stood back on the sidewalk and watched as the lieutenant, dressed in a white shirt, black vest and pants with a cape of matching black on one side and blood red on the other, went up to the door, and commented, "Good luck."

Face pounded on the door with his fist and said in the deepest tone he could muster, "Open 'ze door, in the name of Count Dracula!" The door swung open and he lunged forward, failing his arms and screaming, "AHHHHHHHH!"

But it wasn't Murdock who had answered the door, instead it was Amy dressed in a blue gingham jumper, a white shirt, her hair in two pigtails, and a pair of silver shoes on her feet. She crossed her arms and smiled amusingly and said nonchalantly, "What's the matter, Face, something you ate?"

"Wise guy," Face replied as he walked past Amy and into the house to find Murdock.

"Shall I guess?" Hannibal asked as he stepped up and got a look at Amy in the light.

"Don't ask," Amy answered.

"That was your idea?" Hannibal asked.

Amy took a look at him with a curly black wig, large dark sunglasses, black clothes and a couple gold chains around his neck and she asked him, "Was it your idea to be one purple fur coat short of a pimp?"

"Ha ha ha," Hannibal dryly remarked as he also walked past her and asked, "Where's Murdock?"

"He'll be down in a minute," Amy answered as she held the door for B.A. to step in, "Jean's helping him with some last minute adjustments on his costume."

"So uh…" Face looked Amy's costume up and down again and asked, "Why Dorothy?"

Amy blushed slightly as she answered, "It was Murdock's idea."

"Murdock's?" Face repeated.

"Yep," Amy went over to the dining room table and picked up a wicker basket and said, "He said it was the perfect costume to accompany this prop."

Hannibal picked up the cloth covering the contents of the basket and saw a couple dozen eggs in it. "Why eggs?"

"Because eggs destroy the Nome King who tries to rule Oz for himself," Jean answered as she came down the stairs dressed in olive drab pants and jacket, black boots, a pale grayish green shirt with 4077 on it, yellow tinted sunglasses and a camouflage bucket hat, "And what's Halloween without somebody getting egged?"

"And who are you supposed to be?" Face asked.

Jean picked up a black doctor's bag off the table and answered, "Doctor Hawkeye Pierce, from the MASH 4077 unit."

"Hawkeye didn't look like that," Face told her.

"Did you ever see the movie?" Jean asked.

"…No," Face answered.

"Where's Murdock?" Hannibal asked.

Jean threw her head back and called up the stairs, "Come on, Murdock, they're ready to go!"

"Coming, I'm coming," they heard a voice answer from above, but it didn't sound like Murdock, it was higher and had an Irish twist to it. They looked up and saw Murdock coming down the stairs, but nobody recognized him in a long narrow black skirt, a paler black short sleeve shirt, a dingy gingham shawl safety pinned around his chest and arms, a short gray wig and a teeny tiny hat that looked like a black knitted potholder tied on the top of his head. The other three commandoes stood dumbfounded at the sight, and even B.A. did a double take at seeing him.

"What're you supposed to be, fool?" he asked.

"Me name is Old Mother Riley," Murdock answered in an Irish female voice, then he regained his natural tone and asked, "What about you, B.A.? What're you supposed to be? I mean what kind of a costume is that?"

"I told you before, fool, I don't do costumes," B.A. told him.

"Oh I don't know," Jean said as she adjusted her sunglasses, "He looks like somebody I saw in a movie once."

"What movie?" Hannibal asked.

"Oh you know, that taxi one where the guy says 'we the worst cab company in town, and we know it!'"

B.A. snorted and said, "Sounds like a lousy movie to me."

"Well I liked it," Jean replied.

"Alright, is everybody ready to go?" Hannibal asked.

"Yes," they answered.

"Hey Amy," Face pointed to the high tops Amy was wearing, "What's with the shoes? I thought Dorothy was supposed to wear ruby slippers."

"Silver slippers originally," Murdock reminded him, "But if we need to make a quick getaway we figured silver sneakers would be better."

"Ah."

"Alright, well…" Hannibal looked everyone over and said, "It might be a tight fit in the car but I think we'll be able to manage."

"Murdock and I can take my car," Jean offered.

Hannibal shook his head, "No, B.A., Face and Amy can sit in the front and the three of us can squeeze in the back."

"Fine, now that that's settled, let's go," Jean said, swinging her medical bag as she walked.

Face snagged her by the back of her jacket and asked, "What's that for?"

Jean looked at her bag and answered, "Incase Decker comes and tries to bust up the party."

"Ohhh," Murdock said in an excited hush as he went over to her, "What're we going to do to him?"

"What any good surgeon would do," Jean answered, then gestured dramatically as she explained, "We're going to cut him open, rip his appendix out and then throw it away!"

Murdock laughed like a banshee and joined hands with her as they walked out the door.

"You know, I get the idea we could go out looking like this any other day of the week and still nobody would notice," Amy said to Hannibal.

He shrugged and replied, "You're probably right, after all this is Hollywood."


Two days after Halloween, Murdock packed his bag and relocated himself to Hannibal's apartment for a while. Hannibal was glad to have the pilot's company and it gave them a chance to catch up when they got home from work at the studio. They still saw Jean every day though Hannibal noted now that the two weren't living together how distant they acted towards each other; they'd exchange a few words and then each be on their own way for the morning shoot. Hannibal watched this go on for a few days before he finally asked Murdock if everything was alright between them. He insisted it was and the colonel let it go at that.

Murdock's stay with Hannibal lasted for two weeks, for the most part Hannibal found the captain's stay very enjoyable, though there were still some downsides; he'd about broken his neck half a dozen times trying to 'don't step on Billy!', but he'd rather take that than the nightmares that used to leave Murdock screaming in the middle of the night when he was on leave from the V.A. Once they got home from the studio at night they usually parked themselves in front of the TV with a few beers and watched whatever ball game or fight or movie was on; of course Murdock always supplied his own sound effects or commentaries or sportscasts so it never became dull and it was never as simple a thing as 'a quiet evening at home', and that was the way Hannibal liked it.

One night Murdock fell asleep early, during the middle of the late night movie, and after a few attempts of Hannibal's to wake him up failed, Hannibal decided it was safe to call Jean's house, because he didn't want the pilot overhearing the conversation.

Jean was still wide awake and perfectly coherent as she talked to Hannibal.

"How's it going over on your side?" he asked.

"Everything's fine here, how's it going with Murdock?" she asked.

"He's fine," he answered, "Though I am a bit confused, is there a particular reason why you two are avoiding each other like the plague now?"

He could almost hear Jean shrug as she said, "I just assumed since he was with you now that that was why he hasn't said much. Though for my own part, I'm just hoping that he'll stay with you guys for a couple more weeks, I'm figuring by that time I should have his new game room all set up."

"Ah, I see," Hannibal replied, "Well you don't have anything to worry about, next week he goes to stay with Face for a while."

"Yeah but how long do you think that's going to last?" Jean asked, "Any place Face scams is notoriously a bachelor pad, and you don't think he's going to get tired of Murdock hanging around in between he and his date every night?"

Hannibal chuckled and answered, "Well you have a point there, but I think they'll be fine for a while. Face has actually been looking forward to having Murdock's company for a while, and I know Murdock will enjoy it."

"That's not what worries me," Jean told Hannibal, "I'm just hoping I didn't go through all this for nothing."

"How's that?" Hannibal asked.

"I mean I hope I didn't kiss off $10,000 for nothing, now that Murdock's out of the house and back with you guys where he belongs, maybe he won't be so inclined to come back here."

Hannibal pulled the phone back from his ear and looked at the receiver as if he was trying to see through to the other end of the line and look at her. That kid would make a good mother someday, she already had the guilt part down pat and the real kick was Hannibal wasn't even sure that she was aware of it. There was no malice to read between the lines, she was simply stating what was going through her mind, but it still felt like she had his intestines in her hand and was wringing them like an old dishtowel.

"I wouldn't worry about that," he said as he looked in the living room and saw Murdock curled on his side holding his arms up like a dog did its paws as it slept, "Every good dog knows how to find its way back home."

"Hannibal," Jean's voice sounded more distant now as she told him in a definite tone, "He is home."

Author's note: Only one more chapter to go!