Grasp (The A-Team - Movie)
Title: Grasp (MOV)
Warning: none
Pairing: Face/Murdock
Summary: There's so many things to appreciate about Face but Murdock loves his hands most of all.
A/N: A quick little ficlet written for thaliamousa over on Tumblr.
Murdock loved a lot of things about Face. Some he could talk about in front of people while others were whispers for Face’s ears only.
A safe topic for mixed company, most of the time, was Face’s hands.
Large and strong and just as expressive as the rest of the conman. The first few hours that they’d known each other, all those years ago in Mexico, Face’s hands had run the gambit.
Gripping Murdock’s arm tight while he asked for help with B.A.’s gunshot; then a short while later, in a panic, batting out the fire on his shirt that Murdock may or may not have caused.
Murdock’s favorite that day, though, had been how Face had excitedly clapped him on the shoulder so hard after they’d landed that it’d almost sent the pilot tumbling over.
That was the point Murdock had known Face would be someone whose hands would give him lasting friendship.
Unfortunately, Murdock’s mind wasn’t always static and when the world started to go all thin and warbly, Face was the one always there with a pat to the arm to reel him. Soothing circles rubbed over his back when a new med made Murdock’s stomach wanna take a vacation on the outside.
Face’s hands may have been a source of comfort but they didn’t fool Murdock. They could be dangerous as well. Soldier’s hands. Ranger, baby. Fought in far off places and secret locations just as much as knocking men out with fists in a down home dive bar.
Hell, Murdock had been on the receiving end once. Granted he’d been right about Sosa being no good for Face from the beginning, but they agreed not to talk about that or the split lip that had resulted from it.
He much rather liked to think about the times after, anyway.
Face’s palm against the nape of Murdock’s neck, slipping gently into his hair as he’d pulled the pilot into their first kiss on a crappy couch in Ft. Stewart right before their final deployment.
That night those hands had continued doing things Murdock had only dreamed about since their first touch in Mexico.
The next morning he’d woken up, thinking it’d all been a dream until he realized that not only were their legs still entwined but fingers as well, in the dim morning light.
B.A. always teased Face for his well groomed, manicured metacarpi, but Murdock knew that B.A. was more than well aware that despite fancy phalanges, Face would get the job done. Especially when shooting not only took a sharp eye but a steady hand and Face was one of the best damned snipers any of them had ever met.
As loud and vocal as Face could get, his real raw and honest emotion could be found in how he handled someone. Whether that was making a cigar appear before Hannibal even asked for it, sewing a bullet hole closed for B.A., no lighting bolt, which kinda took all the fun out of it, or something as simple as sitting in the back of the van petting Billy with Murdock.
They’d just finished a week long job helping the nuns at Face’s old orphanage tuck away some threatening scum.
Afterward Murdock had hidden a grin when tiny Sister Mary Grace had brought all 6’ 2” of Templeton Peck down to her eye level, hands on his face as she pulled him into a fierce hug. She’d showed them around, leading them through all the rooms on both floors with Face holding onto her arm the entire time.
A few hours and full bellies later, Murdock leaned against the front porch railing while Face sat on the steps, a little girl, Natalie, on his knee. Hand braced gently across her back as he listened to her animated talk.
When it appeared the riveting story of Pokey the puppy was winding down Face looked up with a wide, happy smile and a wave in his direction and Murdock realized he’d never been so thankful for a set of hands in his entire life.