Face glared at BA. "This is all your fault."

Not intimidated in the slightest, the larger man glared right back. "Stop trying to lay that on me. How was I supposed to know he'd flip out like that?"

Face and BA had been scouring the base for their new pilot for nearly an hour now. Things had been perfectly fine just 56 minutes ago. Face had been enjoying a late breakfast after rolling out of a lovely redhead's bed, joined by Murdock and BA. Hannibal was in talks with General Morrison to get the ball rolling, circumventing as much red tape as possible of course, to get their new team official and operational. BA had been writing to his mom and Murdock was reading 'My Friend Flicka' which had, under circumstances Face didn't want to dwell on too much, been left in a drawer in their new shared sleeping quarters.

Things were fine. Then, halfway through Face's second serving of eggs (that redhead had STAMINA), Murdock started to get restless.

Tap tap tap. Tappa tappa tap tap taptap. Tap tap TAPTAPTAP. Tappa tap tap tap taptap. Tap tap t-

"Hey!"

Murdock looked up, confused by BA's outburst. Around his third piece of toast (stamina!), Face winced. The three of them had only known each other for a few days, but it was already painfully clear that there was going to be friction between the Captain and Sergeant. Friction to which, unfortunately, Murdock seemed completely oblivious.

"What?" he asked with genuine innocence. Tappa tap tap taptap. TAP. Tap tap.

"You're tapping," glowered BA.

Murdock looked at his hand to check. It was true. "Oh." He carefully flattened the palm of the offending hand onto the table, stilling its erratic movements. "Sorry."

Both men went back to their tasks. Face slurped his coffee and tried to decide if the delicious bacon on his plate would be worth the extra laps he'd have to do to work it off.

Ting. Ting ting. Vmmmmmmmmb, ting ting ting.

"Will you knock it off?"

This time, BA's shout was loud enough to nearly startle Murdock off his chair. Only impressively quick reflexes stopped him from pitching over as he instinctively jerked away. Bracing his feet firmly on the floor to ensure his chair wouldn't try anything funny, Murdock looked around. Seeing no other possible target for BA's rage, he addressed the other man in bewilderment. "What?"

"You're shaking your leg, man," BA told him sternly. "Whole table's moving. Face's breakfast damn near vibrated away."

"Oh," said Murdock again, sounding a little embarrassed. He looked at Face, who was mopping up a few splatters of spilled coffee. "Sorry."

Face shrugged, swallowing the last of his bacon (Delicious bacon always won against laps. Always). "Don't worry about it."

BA wasn't so tolerant. "Face, can you call the hospital and get 'em to send a straightjacket for this crazy fool so he stops bouncing everywhere? Maybe a gag too; stop him from running his mouth off about every damn thing that comes into his head?"

That was unnecessary, thought Face with a frown. Sure, Murdock had been a little… high maintenance in the energy department, but come on. The guy just got out of a mental institution. He'd actually been pretty good this morning, only cutting his own toast into animal shapes instead of trying to do it to everyone's, and drinking orange juice without overtly checking for bugs (computer bugs, not literal bugs. Apparently Murdock thought that the government was trying to implant microchips into everyone to monitor their whereabouts). He'd settled in to read and been relatively quiet. Face knew BA was stressed, wondering whether or not his reinstatement into the Army would get through, but he didn't need to attack Murdock for (pretty much) no reason.

Murdock had gone a bit pale. "I'm... Sorry." He fiddled with his book, long fingers flicking at the worn, dog-eared cover. He opened his mouth as if to say something else but turned it into a stuttered cough instead. Before Face or BA could react, he'd muttered an excuse and all but bolted for the door.

That wouldn't have been worrying in itself, but when Face and BA had arrived back at their barracks ten minutes later, there was no Murdock. Face had had a look around, wanting to check that Murdock was okay (who knew what could trigger a mental patient – sorry, EX-mental patient – to snap?), but couldn't find his new teammate anywhere. Annoyed that his day off was turning into a babysitting drama, Face demanded that Bosco assist in the search because, as he'd said 13 times in the past hour, "This is all your fault."

So that's where they were. Crisscrossing the base like idiots because they couldn't find a fully-grown man who, for all BA and Face knew, had gone off to climb a tree or cuddle a B-52 or hell, meet a girl and probably didn't care about being found one way or another. BA scowled as he followed Face down a small passage between a couple of main buildings. This wasn't hide and seek and it wasn't a damn daycare either. Murdock was an adult. Hell, he was a Ranger. They were saying he could handle active service, then he could handle being alone for a couple of hour-

Wait. What was that?

"Hey Faceman, hold up."

Face skidded to a halt, nostrils flaring as he definitely didn't puff because he'd barely been strolling and certainly hadn't been having a mental race with BA to appease his male ego in the presence of the larger man. "What's," clearing the throat, not panting at all, "What's up?"

BA pointed. Face turned, did a double-take, and groaned. "Murdock," he called, walking over. "What are you doing?"

The man in question looked down at them. He was sitting casually, legs swinging and knocking occasionally on the concrete behind him. He seemed completely relaxed, belying the fact that he was three stories up, on the armoury roof.

"Hey, Faceman," drawled Murdock. "Bosco." He nodded in acknowledgement, tipping an imaginary hat.

"We've been looking all over for you," shouted BA accusingly. "What you doing up there?"

"Just needed to breathe for a bit, that's all gents," replied Murdock in an inexplicable British accent, unfazed by BA's temper. "Air gets a bit too thick down there, what what? Clogs up inside your nostrils, can't travel to the brain, you see."

"Man, you crazy!" yelled Bosco. "Sitting on top of buildings ain't gonna make your brain work. Ain't nothing gonna make your brain work!"

"BA, that's not helping," said Face through gritted teeth.

Murdock kicked his legs twice before pulling himself up, now standing on the slightly raised ledge. As Face watched in growing horror and BA glared, he closed his eyes and rocked back and forth on his heels, tipping his head back towards the mid-morning sun. Arms held out from his sides, he looked peaceful, a half-smile pulling at his lips. It was almost like he was meditating. Each sway tipped him alarmingly forwards over the three-storey drop.

"Murdock," called Face, hands instinctively reaching up as if they could push Murdock back through will alone. "Can you stop that, man? Can you step back a bit?"

He didn't. In fact, opening his eyes, Murdock leaned further forward, peering down at the men on the ground with a faintly accusatory stare. "Hannibal said no more."

"What?" barked BA, irritated.

It took Face a second to understand. "Fuck." He raised his voice. "Murdock, no. Hannibal was right. BA wasn't serious. You're not going back to the hospital."

Murdock's expression didn't waver. "Hannibal said no more shots. No more tranqs, jackets or locks. He promised."

BA was dumbfounded. He could only stare as Face tried to placate the other man, who'd started to shift agitatedly on the spot, all traces of the relaxation he'd been exuding only seconds before disappearing.

"He was telling the truth, Murdock," said Face, unable to keep the anxiety from his tone. "I swear. No more of that stuff. BA was just mad. He didn't mean it."

From this far away, the men on the ground couldn't see the movement of Murdock's eyes, but it was clear that his next question was directed at BA. "Is that true?"

Face kicked Bosco's ankle when the big man failed to respond. BA huffed. "Yes, cra- Murdock," he said with exaggerated patience. Face resisted the urge to kick him again. "I was mad. I'm not gonna really sic the docs on you." He shot Face a 'There, are you happy now?' glare.

Murdock's voice had a note of suspicion. "No more shocks?"

BA frowned. "No more…? What? Aw hell no, what do you think this is? Come on, man. Don't even talk about that medieval shit." He sounded offended.

"Lots of people do it," countered Murdock. Face wanted to say that he actually didn't think ECT was that common anymore, but thankfully bit his tongue just in time. In Murdock's experiences, lots of people probably did perform and endorse electroshock. How long did Hannibal say he'd been in that place in Mexico, again?

"Well I ain't lots of people," snapped BA. "I'm not gonna lie, crazy." Oh God, thought Face, bracing himself. "I don't like you. You nearly killed me! And you're annoying. Like, really annoying. But I ain't gonna throw you back in that hospital. I mean, shit, man. I wouldn't really tranq someone, come on."

Murdock shifted warily. "You promise?"

BA rolled his eyes and enunciated clearly. "Yes, I promise. I will not put you back in the hospital or do any of the messed up shit they did to you in there, alright? And I won't let anyone else do it, either." He crossed his massive arms over the boulder of his chest, emphasizing the point.

"We're not gonna let anything like that happen again, buddy," assured Face. "None of us. Can you come down – we'll talk about it?"

With a last measuring look, Murdock took a step backwards. Face let out a deep sigh. "Okay. Hang on." In a blink, he'd scampered out of sight towards the access door that led to the stairs out of the building.

Face ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck."

BA nodded. "Yeah."

A minute later, there was a creak from the side of the building as the fire escape door opened. Murdock trotted towards them, wiping his palms on his jeans. He gave the others a slightly guarded half smile. "Hey."

"Hey." BA looked uncomfortable. "Look, man. I didn't mean to, you know. Sometimes I just say stuff. It don't mean anything."

Murdock shrugged. "That's okay." He glanced at Face, then back to BA. "Loxapine."

BA blinked. "What?"

Murdock looked faintly apologetic, embarrassed. "Loxapine. It's part of my pharmacopeia. Makes me kinda twitchy." BA looked aghast. "It should settle down if I get the dose right, but…"

Face and BA didn't know what to say. Murdock shrugged again. "Anyway." He fiddled with the zipper on his jacket, tugging it up and down again absently.

After some long, awkward seconds, Face cleared his throat. "So… Does that mean you can't play foosball?"

Murdock stared. "Que?"

"Foosball. You know, with the…?" Face mimed spinning a bar to make a shot. Murdock nodded, still confused. "Yeah. Well I managed to get us a table. Guy in requisitions here owes me a favour."

"Cool!" Murdock's face split into a wide smile. He turned to BA. "Do you play?"

BA was still trying to keep up with Murdock's mercurial moodswings, but he managed a scowl. "Of course I play, fool."

"Heh heh," giggled Murdock. "Foolsball."

BA groaned. Maybe I can tie the fool up in his bedsheet, he thought. Didn't say nothing about bedsheets…