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"Nuts

Nuts

By Tee

 

Rating: G

Hannibal observes the team.

 

@@@

 

"Nuts!"

 

"Are you alright?" I looked over to see Face shaking his finger before putting it in his mouth.

 

"I b'nt m'sef"

 

"You burnt yourself?" I'm pretty sure that's what he said, but it’s hard to tell. He nods, those blue eyes glaring at me like it's my fault. "Well, be more careful."  The glare intensifies and I suddenly think of the phrase 'if looks could kill.'

 

It's the part of the job we could all live without, but one we do very well. Getting out of tight places at a moment’s notice with just luck and skill. I like to think more skill than luck, but some days it's a toss up.

 

Poor Face. He's back to work, but he's not enjoying it. BA, he loves to tinker. Give him a day off and he's still under the hood of some car, or fixing a toaster or anything else with moving parts. Murdock, he thinks it's fun. Creation from destruction, destruction from creation, it's all part of some Jungian cycle for him. Maybe it's Freud, I don't know. I can’t keep up.

 

Me, I do it for the jazz. I love to beat the odds. Worst thing that you can say to me is that it can't be done. That, and stay put. My mother used to say that I never stayed in my crib either.

 

But Face? He doesn't like it. He does it, and mostly he does it pretty good, although he'll figure most any way to get out of it, but there's no fun in it for him. He might want a picket fence, but he wouldn't want to mend one.

 

"Nuts, and well…."

 

"Nuts?" I shouldn't laugh, but he looks so pitiful. It's my own fault. I've told these boys a hundred times that officers and gentlemen don't swear. They learned their lessons well.

I take the blow torch from him, shutting it off before he burns us both, or the warehouse down. "Go see what you can find for ammunition."

 

Scrounging, he's good at that.

 

"Murdock?"

 

He's wearing fireman boots and a cape. "Major Disaster to the rescue."

 

I hand him the blow torch. What does it say about me that I'm getting used to him when he's like this.

 

BA's putting the finishing touches on our mini-rocket launcher – or is it a giant shotgun? "Oh – Nuts!"

 

I gotta let these boys out more. We're beginning to sound like each other.

 

"Two minutes, Smith!" 

 

Talk about nuts – that man has a serious problem with reality.

 

 

The End

 


Nuts by Tee

 

 


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