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Come Back In From the Cold

"Come Back In From The Cold"
by bakedgoldfish

Rated: PG
Warnings: allusion to suicide and Red Dwarf (eh? what the-never mind. . .)
Archive: Hey, whatever floats your boat. . .
Summary: Face is depressed. Murdock to the rescue?
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Don't sue, please.


Face looked at the waves crashing against the shore. The moonlight reflected gracefully on the black waters, dancing on its surface. Pulling his jacket closer to his body against the nipping night air, he absently fingered the small gun in his pocket.

The case had been an excellent one. They'd been paid. Nobody had gotten hurt. That made it excellent. But Face had not felt it, not this time. Something had been missing, something important.

He was tired. Tired of the run, tired of living on the edge, tired of it all. Useless, he thought to himself. Except for his looks. If it weren't for that, he thought, I wouldn't be here. No need for a conman without the looks.

Face never heard the footsteps behind him, but he sensed someone coming. Turning around, he saw Murdock walking towards him. The lanky pilot looked as if he were about to blow over in the breeze, hugging himself and walking at a moderate pace. But, he looked as if he had no purpose except to walk.

"Hey, Facey."


"Can't sleep either?" Murdock smiled quickly, but his eyes showed worry.

Peck wasn't looking at him, though, and he didn't notice. "Yeah, I guess."

Murdock stepped a little closer to him. "Wanna talk about it?"

"No." Damn, that was harsher than he meant it to be. "Thanks," he added softly, as an afterthought.

They stood there for a few tense moments, just looking at the black waves smash against the gray-blue sand. "Face, I know you've got the gun."

Face shot his friend a startled look before composing himself. "So I wanted some protection," he stated, shrugging it off.

"With a six-shooter? Come on, Face. I'm crazy, not stupid." His voice held no malice, only sadness.

The lieutenant stared at the water, jaw clenched in guilt and anger. But through his guilt and anger came a thought:

"Just how did you know the gun was missing?" He turned to face his best friend.

Murdock licked his lips and looked away. He was silent for a moment. "I, uh. . . I got bored. Decided to do some inventory." It was a lame excuse, and he knew it.

Face smiled ruefully. "Just like how I needed protection, right?" The smile faded when he saw it wasn't returned. "Hey." He squeezed Murdock's shoulder supportively. "Let's go inside. It's cold outside."

Murdock looked up at him, a smile dancing in his eyes. "No kind of atmosphere?"

Rolling his eyes at Murdock's quirky reference, Peck answered, "Yeah." With a small laugh, they headed back to the house.


Come Back In From the Cold by bakedgoldfish



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