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Face's Horrible, Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
by SherryGabs © 2003
Rated: PG / Humor
Summary: I think the title explains it all.
Warnings: Maybe a few naughty words.
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing them for a while to amuse myself with.
Morning. Face had no desire to get up yet. While it was still far away from being an actual killer hangover -- and there was no doubt in his head it would grow into that within minutes -- the dull feeling was even further away from being enjoyable. His tongue traced his dry lips; but in his listless state the faint, lingering taste of last night's drinks didn't quite make it through to his senses. Blurry images raced past, too fast for his mind to grab on to, or even identify.
Face half-opened his bleary eyes and scanned the room. Even with his dimmed sight he could tell he was in a hotel room. Reaching a hand out, there was no body there to give testimony as to his current condition. Looking over to the clock on the nightstand, warned him that checkout would be soon. hopefully, was his wish. The folded piece of paper next to the clock piqued his curiosity. Enough to make him battle the foes in his head and sit up on the side of the bed.
I didn't know you were such a party animal, Ted.
I had a blast! Give me a call sometime.
'Party animal, huh?' Face thought, dropping the note back on the nightstand and scrubbing his face with his hands. 'Well, I feel like an animal that's been tied to the rear bumper and dragged a few miles.'
Rubbery legs took him to the mahogany desk. The hotel's information booklet sat under a couple of glasses whose ice had long ago melted, leaving the booklet with two wet rings to adorn the cover. With a mild curse, he discovered that checkout was at 11:00 am, leaving him no time to shower. He searched the room for his clothes, figuring it must have been Gina who undressed him, because he never would have strewn his clothes around so haphazardly. Unable to find one sock, he cursed again about the price of argyle socks these days.
Face wrinkled his nose at the smell of his clothes, his stomach lurching slightly at the mixture of stale smoke, booze, her perfume and his own cologne. So with wrinkled tuxedo back on, tie in one pocket and one sock in the other, Face put his bare feet into his shoes and left.
Once he located his car in the parking garage, Face just stood there and shook his head. The cars on either side of him had both parked too closely for him to be able to open his doors to get in. Cursing the nerve of the inconsiderate drivers, Face climbed over the Corvette's trunk. Unfortunately, he tripped up on top and landed face first in the passenger seat. Red-faced, angry and with a total lack of grace he righted himself and looked around to make sure no one had noticed.
Mumbling incoherently to himself about mixing hard liquors, idiot drivers and how anyone was supposed to function before their first cup of coffee, Face put on his sunglasses, started the car, put it in reverse and backed out of the spot.
Only to come to a sudden, bumper-crushing stop.
If he already didn't have such a massive headache, Face would have banged his head on the steering wheel at his own stupidity of backing into a concrete support pole. Instead he closed his eyes, swallowed the string of vile language that wanted to escape and groaned out a whiny "Why me?"
After having made it out of the garage without further mishap, Face stopped at the closest McDonald's drive-thru and got a large coffee to jumpstart his brain. The styrofoam cup was too large for the cup holder so he put it between his legs as he'd done many times before.
On the breezy drive back to his latest borrowed house and with the help of caffeine, Face could remember some of what had happened the night before. A Hollywood party in the hotel's ballroom, all the high-class, stuffy people in attendance, drinks flowing like Niagara Falls, and Gina hanging all over him. They'd gotten a room at the hotel since it was so conveniently close and had a party of their own. Face smiled. 'Boy, who would have thought that Gina was limber enough to--'
The sound of a blaring horn jolted Face back to awareness. He had just ran a red light and a car was swerving to avoid a collision. Instinct told Face to hit the brakes. In his excitement he forgot about the cup between his legs. Steaming hot coffee pushed the lid off when his thighs squeezed the cup too tightly. Wide-eyed and screaming at the burning pain, Face threw the crushed cup to the floor with one hand and continued steering with the other. He was too panicked to actually stop. He was afraid a cop had witnessed his traffic violation and wanted to get as far away as quickly as possible. He also wanted to get home and into a cool bath.
Face gingerly got out of his car and walked bow-legged through the front door of the house, certain his manhood was damaged permanently. Intent on just getting upstairs into a soothing bath he was startled to hear, "Bout time you got home, Lieutenant!"
Face grabbed at his chest in shock at the booming voice,
expecting the house to be empty. He turned into the dining room where the voice
had come from. "
"Don't ask," Face sighed and held a hand up to his temple. 'Oh God, I need an aspirin, or two. Or a dozen.' He suddenly heard sniffing coming from behind him and felt breath on the back of his neck. He quickly turned to find Murdock had snuck up behind him.
"Boy, Facey. The fumes comin' offa you could fuel a jet!" Murdock slowly came around to the front of Face, lifted up the sunglasses and looked into his bloodshot eyes. "Yep, musta been some night. Did ya have to marinate in it?" He plucked the lone sock from Face's jacket pocket. "Bet the other one's on the ceiling fan." Looking lower he burst out laughing and pointed. "Now that's not a good way to impress a girl, Face."
Face grabbed the sock back, yanked off his sunglasses and glared at Murdock. "For your information, I spilt extremely hot coffee on myself. I probably have third degree burns!" He put his angry face right into Murdock's. "Now would ya just get out of my way!"
"Sheesh!" Murdock held up his hands and backed off. "You're such a grouch in the morning! Worse than the big guy."
"You talkin' bout me, fool?" BA asked loudly, coming in from the kitchen holding a submarine sandwich and glass of milk. "How would ya like it if I gave you somethin' to talk about?" His eyes then raked over Face and his lips curled in disgust. "What you been doin' with yourself? How you s'pose to scam us anythin' lookin' like that?!"
Face's head pounded with every syllable of BA's loud voice. He put his hands, still holding the sock and glasses, against his head and groaned.
"Dammit, Face! We have a job to get to. I need you in top condition, not hungover like some sailor at the end of shore leave! You have thirty minutes to get cleaned up and changed!"
Face was exasperated. "How was I supposed to know we had a new job? I am entitled to a social life you know!"
"You now have twenty minutes!"
"Move it, Lieutenant......"
Face's only retort was a squeak and a puffed breath as he stomped towards the stairs.
Murdock watched Face walk away, then
turned back to
BA giggled around his mouthful of sandwich.
Complaining to himself about the unfairness of it all, Face quickly removed his clothes. Glancing down, he was relieved to notice that his most tender area and upper legs were just red and not blistered like he was sure they were. In the bathroom, he downed a few aspirin and left the can of burn spray sitting on the vanity to use after his shower.
Downstairs, Hannibal and Murdock could hear Face scurrying
around above them as they got things ready to go. BA had just fallen asleep at
the table thanks to the knock-out drops
"What'd ya do this time?" Murdock asked as Face dropped his overnight bag to the floor, sat in a chair and rubbed his knee.
"Bumped into the nightstand trying to hurry up with packing," Face mumbled unhappily.
"You didn't need to pack anything, Face. We should be
Face glared at
'Can this day get any worse?' Face wondered.
"Face, you call this a plane!?" Murdock yelled back to him from the pilot's seat. "This thing should be in a museum!" He could barely be heard over the rough sounding engine.
"It's the best they had!" Face lied. The plane *was* old. It also sounded like rubber bands and popsicle sticks were holding the engines together. He probably could have done better, but the field attendant didn't seem to quite catch on to Face's con. Though Face had to admit to himself that his con probably wasn't quite up to par either.
"Hey, Face, is there a patron saint for safe flying?" Hannibal's expression was obviously sarcastic. "If so, I suggest you start praying."
They made it to the landing site with only a slightly rough landing. Face had said a quick, silent prayer before dozing off for the short duration of the flight. The three of them had just unloaded their weapons from the plane when BA woke up. He was not a happy camper when his muscular body filled the door.
Face could only stare as BA slowly walked towards him. He
became worried. Very worried. 'What the hell did
After BA walked away, Face released his breath. "What was that all about?"
"I don't know, muchacho," Murdock nudged him. "But I'm glad I ain't you."
Face's day was *not* getting any better.
Afternoon. Face had no desire to get up yet. But the persistent tapping on his cheek insisted he did.
"Come on, Facey. Wakey up," Murdock's voice drifted through the haze.
Face opened his eyes, only to close them quickly again when he saw Murdock's face only two inches from his. "Go away."
Murdock backed up, squatting on the ground next to Face. "That's twice today you told me to get away," he said with a pout. "I'm startin' to get a complex."
Face opened his eyes again and slowly sat up. He felt the back of his head for the bump he was sure was there and winced when he found it. 'Wonderful! Another headache!' "What happened?"
"Remember when you was supposed to cover BA and Hannibal as they went into the building from the north side while I went in from the south side?"
"Yes," Face remembered. "But someone slipped around the corner and followed them in, so I went in after him."
"Yeah, well, someone *else* followed you in. He clobbered you, then he and his buddy jumped Hannibal and BA."
"Oh no...... are they all right?" With the day he'd had so far, Face was sure he'd made a mistake somewhere.
"They're fine," Murdock reassured merrily.
"They took both those goons out, and two more fellas in the office." He held up a manila folder.
'Did he have to sound so happy about that?' "Great. Just great," Face muttered.
Hannibal and BA came out of the building just then.
"Have a nice nap, Lieutenant?"
"Nap?!" Face couldn't
"A-i-uh," Face sputtered angrily.
"Okay, then. Let's get going."
As they neared the plane, BA suddenly stopped short.
"You all take the plane. I'll find my own way back!" He poked a
The look BA gave him before falling to the ground was enough to make Face's skin crawl. "I'm dead meat."
Face remembered the look BA gave him earlier when he came
out of the plane. "
Face cocked his head, suspicious that
Face's suspicions were proved correct when they landed later. He heard a growl and turned around. The last words he heard were, "You knocked me out twice today! You put me on a plane twice today!" The last thing he saw was a large ring-laden fist coming towards his face.
Evening. Face had no desire to get up yet. He moaned at the pain in his head and down his entire right cheek. He felt an ice pack being put over the swelled bruise.
"How do you feel?"
Face tried opening his eyes, but only the left one would open. He could see enough to realize he was in his own bedroom. "Ahh, Hannibal! Whyyyyy?"
The guilt was written all over his face. "Sorry, kid. I didn't think he'd actually punch you!"
Face sighed and moaned again. "Why me?"
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