notthatcrazy | Best-Laid Plans

Best-Laid Plans

It was supposed to be an easy job. At least that's what Hannibal had said, with his usual bravado. All they had to do was tail the guy who'd been stealing corporate intel from their client and report back when they found his base of operations - at least that was the plan, until they'd been spotted and he'd gotten the drop on them before Face could take him out.

So now he's got a possible concussion and a probable - ow, no, make that a definite broken arm and a very worried partner to deal with.

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Leaning forward, almost on some strange instinct, he kisses the old mark.

"I got chased by a rooster once, I think it was in Mexico. Really didn't help me convince the girl I was trying to hook up that I'm a macho guy."

They're terrifying, and are best put to use in a pot pie.

"Don't blame ya. They're scary."

There are so many horrible jokes he could make here if he were feeling better. As it is, the gentle touch is weirdly comforting.

"The hens were okay... some of 'em would let me look at their babies in the nests as long as I didn't get too close."

He's not really sure why he's rambling about chickens, but at least it's keeping him awake.

Face buries his grin against the side of Murdock's face, half-shaking his head.

"I'm sure you would make a great chicken-daddy. And a much nicer rooster."

Baby chickens are cute, is all.

"Well, you know how it is... you get chased by a cock once, you never forget it."

Hey, looks like he can still make jokes after all.

And there's the laugh he was holding back, right against Murdock's cheek like some silly chick flick move. He can't help himself.

"That... that is terrible." He chuckles, kissing his cheek. "I love you."

Which was exactly the reaction he was hoping for, naturally.

"You know it."

He reaches for his hand again, holding it tight.

"Love you too, baby."

It's a nice moment, the sort of sweet thing he sometimes forgets that they're prone to when watching their thing from the inside.

Which of course means he has to up the ante to get out of seriously cute territory.

"Speaking of cock..." he grins, probably a little too wickedly.

He snorts back a laugh, not even caring that it makes his head hurt worse.

"That is terrible."

He pokes him in the side with the hand that's still linked with his own.

"You're terrible."

... He means it with love, really.

"I'll take that as a compliment." He shifts again, and then manages his fly open with his free hand.

"Seriously, I can't believe you never noticed this..." Shamelessly, he pushes down the waistband of his shorts to show a perfectly round, white scar roughly an inch from his package. "That's a scar you never forget."

"I was otherwise occupied every time I was in that general area," he grins.

"You gonna tell me how you got that one, or is that another thing I don't wanna know about?"

True enough... he does take great pride in keeping him occupied. Still, he pulls his shorts back up for the sanctity of the moment.

"Drunk ex plus high heels plus finding out that I sort of may have slept with a waitress while we were dating."

He flashes an almost sheepish smile, it wasn't one of his prouder moments.

"The guys at the ER took pictures before stitching it up as a cautionary tale to future idiots."

"You're a walking cautionary tale, baby."

He wouldn't have him any other way, really.

"Any other injuries you wanna tell me about?"

"Nah, just the usual stuff - you've seen most of it." His smile softens slightly and he knows Murdock's really feeling the knock to the head just as much as the busted arm.

"Wanna try some concussion karaoke?"

"Sure..."

He's not sure if it's shock setting in (he can't have lost that much blood, can he?) or simply his body trying to deal with the pain, but things are starting to go kinda numb.

Face only chuckles again, not really far enough gone to try that route.

"How's your arm? Still hanging in there?"

"Uh... as far as I can tell, yeah."

The hesitation alone is an indicator that he's in a bad way.

"Y'owe me a song, Faceman."

Squeezing his hand tighter, Face rolls his eyes and brushes another kiss against his cheek.

"Fine... fine... you pick the song and I'll start."

"I dunno... you pick one."

He's a bit too loopy to go through the mental jukebox right now.

Rolling his eyes is an easy answer, but he follows it up with a very gentle nudge of his shoulder as he hums a few bars under his breath and says; "Remember when we did karaoke night at the base like a million years ago? This time you cover Cher."

"Aw, you know you're better at hittin' the high notes," he teases.

It's debatable, actually. They both do a pretty good falsetto.

See that eyeroll Murdock, that's for you.

"For you. But only because I love you..."

He starts with a gentle hum, working up to the intro, fighting the urge to giggle.

He manages not to giggle, but only because he's afraid if he starts he won't be able to stop.

"You're so good to me."

He answers with the opening line - because damn straight he is. Except when he's not.

Still, it's fun. Even if he is singing Cher.

He leans as close to him as he can get, joining in on the choruses.

They do make a good duo.

Even if they're close to tone deaf. It's nice to hear Murdock's voice getting solid again.

"I've got you, babe." He murmurs even after the song's finished, kissing him again.

"Mean it too. Mine. Laying claim."

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