Caring Hands

by Virginia



Rating: PG-13? not sure

Disclaimer: The A-Team characters belong to Stephen J. Cannell.

Archive: Persuaders

Feedback: Always appreciated! virginia_mer@hotmail.com

Thanks: to Allison & Pepper for their excellent suggestions

Summary: Face accepts discipline from one of the Team members



"Do we have to tell Hannibal?" Face complained, knowing he was whining and knowing how much Baracus hated it when he did that. The words were already out of his mouth, so he waited for the inevitable eruption as they drove along the rural highway.

True to form, BA turned an angry frown on him. "What you did was foolish, an' you deserve whatever Hannibal has to say about it."

"Yeah, I know," Face sighed. He definitely knew -- he'd been the recipient of several of Hannibal Smith's lectures over the past few weeks. He didn't really know why; it just seemed that every time Face turned around, he'd made a hasty decision to act that put him in harm's way. So far he'd been charmed enough to escape every time with his hide intact. Maybe if he could soften up the big Sergeant a little, things would go a bit more smoothly when Face and BA made their report to the Colonel. If the big man felt that Peck didn't necessarily need to be subjected to Hannibal's wrath, that he was sufficiently contrite, then just maybe....

With that hope in mind, Face tried for his most humble tone. "You're right, BA. I deserve to be disciplined for it. I guess I let myself get carried away with the adrenaline, but I never should have pushed my luck with those guys."

BA shook his head. "You acted just like some o' the kids at the Center."

When Face turned to glare at him for the crack, his ire evaporated at the thunderous look on BA's face. Looking down at his hands in his lap, Face answered, "Yeah, I guess it was a childish reaction, but BA -- that guy was so smug about it, I had to do something...."

The sudden plea for understanding fell on deaf ears. "That's yo' excuse this time. An' you had one last time you pulled a stunt like that, and the time before."

Well, there wasn't much he could say to that because it was true, so the con man kept quiet.

The silence between them in the van stretched out for several miles. Face was surprised when BA spoke again.

"They's a 10-year-old at the Center, Jeffrey, an' he's always pullin' stunts befo' he thinks out the consequences."

Face grimaced. Looked like he was going to get two lectures for his lapse in judgment that day. Three, if Murdock took a mind to light into him.

"Ten years old, huh?" he asked, resigned, consciously deciding not to fight it. The Sergeant was right, after all.

"Yeah. Gets his self into scrape after scrape, 'n doesn't seem to realize it's fo' his own good when he gets punished."

"Mm. What happens to him? When he gets punished, I mean." He was contributing to keep the conversation going so he wouldn't have to endure either the ominous silence or more of BA's accusations. Besides that, it wasn't too often the big man took a mind to talk, especially to Face, unless it was directly related to the job.

BA shrugged. "Sometimes he winds up cleanin' part o' the Center. Other times he has to help out with the staff."

"Oh."

"What about when you was ten?" BA asked, minutes later.

Face looked over warily; it wasn't often any of the Team prodded him for details from his past. Rarely if ever had BA done so.

"You mean... did I get into trouble?" He felt the other man's question out with a question of his own.

BA gave a single decisive nod, gold and feather earrings jouncing.

Face laughed. That was an easy one to answer. "All the time, BA."

"You get punished?"

That one was easy, too, but it made Face a little uncomfortable. "Well, yeah, some of the time. When I got caught," he added with a bright smile.

It didn't lighten BA's countenance. That fact only served to remind Face he was still in deep shit when they got back to Hannibal and Murdock.

"Who punished you?"

"Uh... the nuns, usually. Sometimes the priest."

Face looked down again at his hands. He didn't have to answer the question, but the position he was in at the moment made him feel he didn't really have much leeway to refuse. It wasn't that he feared Hannibal Smith, not really. True, he hated being the object of the older man's disapproval, for psychological reasons Face thought were best left unexplored. But with all the 'scrapes' he'd been in lately, he had a bad feeling this last one would be the proverbial 'last straw' with the Colonel.

Another minute passed. They rolled along on the secondary highway, passing picturesque scenery and few cars.

"What'd they do?"

"What'd they do?" Face repeated, hoping BA wasn't asking what he thought he was asking.

"When you was punished, at that age."

'Last straw, Faceman,' Face reminded himself. He could ill afford to alienate Baracus right now. "Well," he sighed, "it really depended on who did the punishing, and what I'd done wrong. Sometimes, I scrubbed parts of the orphanage that were reserved for just those kinds of punishments. You know, the baseboards, showers, toilets.... Especially if I'd been caught defacing anything. Which was hardly ever," he felt compelled to add when a dark look of disapproval was cast his way. "Sometimes detention, writing sentences, if I'd done something in school."

Another stretch of silence. That more than anything was driving him crazy, he realized. It was as if BA wanted him to reflect on his sins at each opportunity. The black man remained quiet, his eyes on the road as if he was waiting for more. Face could feel it as clearly as if the Sergeant had told him so. Why he opened his mouth then and actually said it, he had no idea -- but once again his mouth was running with a mind of its own.

"And when I really did something major, that involved danger or risk to me or somebody else, well, that called for the most serious punishments."

"Who did it?"

"Father Perez. He, uh, believed in making a lasting impression."

"You got spanked, then," BA guessed.

Face shifted uncomfortably as memories came forth, and he felt himself flush. He'd been called to the Father's study on numerous occasions, always knowing what would happen before he walked back out again. "Well, yeah, I did."

"Was he fair about it? Or excessive?"

"He was... well, he never hurt me. I mean it hurt, yes, but... It was never more than I deserved." He ran a hand nervously through his sandy-colored hair. "Does that make sense?"

"Yeah."

That was all BA said. Face waited, wondering first of all how they had talked that much, quite a feat for the two of them; then how they'd gotten so far on this particular topic. The big man just wouldn't let it drop.

Finally the older man spoke again, this time giving Face a long, hard look. "What you did today, Faceman, you acted like a 10-year-old."

"I--" He stopped, considering what they'd just talked about. What was BA saying? "Well-- You're right." God, how many times was he going to say that out loud today? But he didn't know what else to say.

And he would know even less, when he was under Hannibal's microscope, answering for his actions. As part of his mind wondered where the hell he was going with this, he said, "I almost wish Father Perez was here to take care of things. I mean, right now I'd rather bend over his desk than sit down while Hannibal takes a verbal piece out of my hide."

BA turned his head just enough to study Face out of the corner of his narrowed eyes. "Would it do you any good?" he demanded.

Face licked dry lips and spoke the truth. "I wouldn't like it, but I guess it would serve me right and make me think twice, next time."

"An' spare you from Hannibal's disapproval."

How did BA know him this well? Was he that transparent to the others? Again, honesty was the easiest way to answer. "Yeah," he admitted in a small voice.

"Well you cain't go without answerin' fo' it, one way or th' other," Baracus said decisively.

Face looked up, a flash of panic running through him. "What do you... I mean, what are you saying?"

BA was silent for a few moments. Finally, "Faceman, I think you and I both know there's times you need a good whippin' to remind you how to behave."

"I--" Words failed him and Face swallowed hard. He felt his face grow hot.

"Don't you?"

BA's words challenged him. He usually had no problems avoiding the truth, but for some reason... Face had the awful feeling the big man had put his finger right on the answer.

"Yeah," he croaked, cleared his voice and tried again. "Yeah, I guess maybe you're right." His words hedged, but with a sinking heart he realized he knew the truth: he sometimes desperately needed what BA was suggesting.

BA shook his head. "I kept thinkin' for sure the Colonel was gonna finally make good on his threats, all these years, an' take a belt to yo' behind."

"He threatened that?!"

Baracus shot him a hard look. "He's said it lots o' times, jus' never followed through." BA's grimace showed exactly what he thought of the Colonel's lapse.

"Well, what-- What exactly has he said?" Face asked, alarmed.

"I'll put it this way: if I had a dollar fo' every time he's said 'That kid needs his ass paddled,' it would buy more gold than I already own."

"Oh," Face said meekly.

"He said it on the last case, too -- that the next time you got yo'self in trouble, he'll teach you a lesson by givin' you a very red backside." BA shrugged. "But it never happens.

It took Face a few moments to remember to close his mouth. He couldn't believe it. Just couldn't picture the Colonel... Well... Okay. He actually could picture it, now that he thought about it. But the whole thing was surreal, especially the fact of BA sitting there telling him these things so blatantly....

"So, was you serious?"

"What?" Face was startled out of his thoughts.

"That you'd rather bend over to be punished, than go through one of Hannibal's lectures."

"I, uh, well, yeah -- in theory. But what does it matter?"

"Look, Faceman, I know what would do you the most good right now. You know it too. If you want it taken care of before we get back to the others, then we'll take care of it."

"Would you, uh," he flushed even redder. "Would you use something? On me?"

"Face, this is all I need right here." BA held up one massive hand.

Face nodded. "Well..." He hesitated, feeling his heart beat heavily in his chest. He needed to clarify one point. "Are you saying that if you... That if I let you, you know, 'take care of it,' that things are settled? And you won't tell Hannibal about the con?"

Another, longer silence followed and Face squirmed, wishing he could take back what he'd just said so he could think it over some more.

"If I punish you, Faceman, then that's the end of it. It's over and forgiven. But you need to know... If I stop this van, I guarantee when you get back in it you won't sit too easy."

With a very dry swallow, Face pushed the words out: "Hey, it's gotta be better than sitting through one of Hannibal's lectures, right?" he joked, then took another breath and took the plunge: "Okay, BA, I agree. You can... punish me as you see fit."

Besides, he thought, there was always that small chance that Hannibal would actually carry through on his threats. Face had been the recipient of many lectures and disciplinary actions under Colonel Smith's command, all suitable to a soldier and his commanding officer. But the thought of the older man punishing him like a little child.... He'd take his chances with BA. The guy was huge and powerful, but surely a few swats even from him couldn't be all that bad? Face could endure it; and at the same time, he'd escape more of Hannibal's ire.

Face waited and forced himself not to fidget as BA brought the van out of a sharp curve, showing no sign he'd listened to the con man when he said he accepted BA's terms. Face had about decided that the conversation was over and things would go no further, when BA abruptly turned the van off the highway.

His heart really thundering in his chest now, the younger man sat quietly as BA steered down a side road then off the pavement, onto a little-used dirt road. He never even looked at Face, as the van bounced over the increasingly rough and overgrown road.

He finally pulled to a stop, bringing the vehicle to rest under a stand of trees. There was no civilization in sight -- just a quiet afternoon out in the rural landscape.

Face looked at the other man, eyes wide. When BA cut the engine and turned slowly to face him, the seriousness in the dark eyes made Face briefly think he might wet himself. He forced himself to hold the gaze, wondering if he was about to be punched for pushing his luck.

"You got one more chance to back out, Faceman. But you did behave like a kid today -- and you deserve to have your behind warmed up good fo' it. Like I said, if I take care of it, then all of it stays between you 'n me."

Peck felt the heat rise up in his face again, deeper this time. He couldn't believe this was really happening, that BA was really serious....

But he was. Face watched the big, jeweled fingers flex on the steering wheel as the older man waited. Jesus, but he had big and powerful hands. Face had known that, but looking at them now and knowing what BA proposed to do with those hands brought about a new awareness.

BA's gaze was still on him, waiting, unwavering. He was deadly serious.

"I-- Uh--" Face swallowed and tried again. "I think--"

"Yes or no," the black man nearly barked at him. "If it's Yes, then step out of the van."

This can't be happening, Face thought, even as his right hand reached out and grasped the door handle, and pushed it up, his eyes still on BA.

BA nodded, accepting Face's decision, and opened his own door.

Face stepped out onto the hard dirt, balancing on weak knees. He wiped his damp palms down the thighs of his pants and straightened, waiting and wondering if he was going to wake up any time soon.

He heard BA open one of the rear doors. The big man then came around to the side door and pulled it open. "Get in the back."

Face started to protest but one scowl from the bigger man and he climbed back into the van, going between the two seats he and Murdock usually occupied. BA came in behind him, pulling the side door shut.

The van's interior was dim, even with the one rear door standing partly open. They had the rear seat installed at the moment -- a bench seat that set in against the back doors. It made for a convenient post when one of them had to shoot out the back for any extended period of time.

"Kneel up on the seat, facin' the doors," BA said from right behind him.

Okay, he thought, he could do this. He could see what BA had in mind: Face could lean forward over the seat back, with BA behind him to take care of business... and Face able to see if anyone came down the dirt road. It was unlikely; it looked like they were out in the middle of nowhere.

At least, Face thought as he assumed the position, this really and truly would be between the two of them. Not even a stranger happening on them would get an eyeful, only a view of a young man peering out the back door.

"Take down yo' pants, Face."

"What?!" He would've turned and been back off the seat and out of the van, except for the steel grip that suddenly held him there, an iron hand to the back of his neck.

"Do it, Faceman, an' we'll get this over with. Unfasten 'em an' push 'em down off yo' behind."

"But BA, you can't--"

"What'd I tell you, 'bout when you get back in the van to sit down?"

That he wouldn't be sitting too easy, Face remembered. And still, in spite of the warning, he'd pushed the issue further -- to this.

He reached with numb fingers and unfastened belt and top button, then lowered the zipper. Finally with a deep breath he pushed the slacks down to his thighs; they pooled just over his knees, where he was kneeling on the white vinyl seat. He'd sat on this bench so many times, he and Murdock together; he'd had knelt here much like this, firing out the back door at their pursuers. Now he was kneeling here to answer for his behavior in a very real, very vivid way.

He heard several chinks and glanced back to see BA had removed the rings from his right hand. He caught the dark eyes briefly and turned back towards the door, locking his hands together and resting his elbows along the seat back. He tried to ignore how naked and vulnerable he felt with only his cotton briefs covering his rear. So undignified. So humiliating. Just as BA intended; Face wouldn't soon forget this particular punishment.

Placing one huge knee on the seat next to Face, BA pushed up the con man's shirt and braced his arm across Face's shoulders. Face felt the Sergeant's right hand rest for a moment at the small of his back, just above the waistband of his briefs. "Faceman," he warned, "don't you move or I'll make this last three times as long."

When those fingers hooked themselves into the elastic waistband, Face knew why BA had warned him. He gasped aloud as his briefs were pulled down off his bottom, exposing him fully to the big man.

He somehow managed to keep from fighting it, telling himself it wasn't so bad. So his backside was bared for a few swats. Father Perez had certainly demanded the same circumstances. He had survived it then; he could live through it now. He closed his eyes, held his breath and waited.

Face hadn't been wrong about the strength in those hands and arms. When BA's big open hand cracked square across his bottom, the searing sting robbed him of any voice. He was also surprised -- Baracus was going through with the spanking for real, and Face knew he was in for it.

These thoughts disappeared when the second smack landed on top of the first. This time Face did let out a groan, and clasped his hands harder.

Third, fourth, fifth smacks fell over the first two. Face knew he wouldn't sit on anything hard for a while -- and he had no idea how much more was to come. Still he didn't protest.

A few more smacks took in other areas of his buttocks, spreading the fire evenly to either side. Then focused attention to first one cheek, then the other until each was red hot. Then nothing.

Face realized he'd been snatching a breath and holding it, for as long as he could each time. He now drew in a deep breath with relief as his ass went from flames down to a throbbing pain.

BA pushed slightly on his shoulders. "Bend down more."

Face did. He had little choice; a slight push from BA was like being plowed over by a heavyweight. One big arm then slid beneath him and lifted up across his abdomen. Face realized what was happening; his bottom was being raised for further punishment. "BA--" he started, panicked.

"Quiet, Face," came the gruff order. "That spankin' was fo' today. This is fo' all th' other times lately, when you jus' don't think before you act."

The next smack burned fire low across his buttocks. Many more followed, all targeting the lower curve and tops of his thighs. Face groaned loudly with each one. Long before BA was finished, he was vowing to himself he'd never be reckless again.

With two final, hard swats that lifted him off the seat, BA finally pulled back. "That's it, Faceman."

'That's it,' Face thought, not yet moving out of position. The smart mouth in him thought briefly of answering, 'Are you sure you don't have a few more for me?' He wisely kept his mouth shut; he didn't want to know what sassing BA right now would get him.

He finally pushed himself up. The movement lit the fire again and he moaned, not caring that Baracus was right there to hear it. The big man knew intimately what Face had just received, so there was no point bothering to pretend otherwise.

"Let's get goin', soon as you can." The gruff, commanding tone was gone. BA's voice was gentle. "We'll get th' others and then get some rooms for the night. You'll do better once we get to a motel."

Face somehow doubted it. He sighed. His behind hurt like hell, his pride was badly dented, and he still had to sit through the drive back. This was just definitely not his day.

He heard the side door open and close again. BA had left him alone to redress. He was grateful for the privacy; he knew it couldn't be a pretty sight as he got himself ready to leave.

Pulling up his pants was as painful as he'd excepted. With a lot of hissing and moaning, he got the briefs, then the form-fitting slacks back up and fastened. Stepping out of the van was a trial too, as the fabric rubbed across his tender behind and thighs. Face had always been a very physical person, reveling in the sensation of touch; normally he appreciated how his clothing hugged his body, especially in the more intimate places. At the moment however, he focused on the fact that he could eventually undress and lay down. After the drive back to the rest of the Team, and after the drive to the motel.

When he opened the passenger side door to get in, BA handed him a soft cushion. Face had no idea where it had come from; had to've been stowed in the back.

"Thanks, BA," Face mumbled, accepting the cushion.

"It'll help," BA said simply. Once Face was situated as best he could manage in the seat, BA leaned toward him before starting the van. "Faceman, you need to know that if you pull those kinds of stunts agin, I'm gonna make sure you don't sit fo' a week, every time. You understand?"

Face looked at him and swallowed, considering BA's prediction. He nodded. "Yeah, I do."

"Good."

With that BA got the van started and they left the rural hiding spot. It was a quiet ride the rest of the way, with BA focusing on his driving and doing his best not to hit potholes, and Face trying vainly to find a more comfortable way to sit.

They finally pulled up to the place where they were to pick up Hannibal and Murdock.

His voice low and earnest, BA advised, "Get some ice on it at the motel, Face. It'll feel better a lot faster that way."

"I thought the effect was meant to last?" Face quipped.

BA shrugged. "You paid for yo' behavior today. You paid but good. You jus' need to know that I won't have you takin' foolish chances like that. You gonna answer for 'em."

"I know," Face answered. They could see Hannibal and Murdock had spotted the van, and were crossing the parking lot toward them. "Thanks, BA."

BA nodded.



Hannibal wondered what had taken them so long, and looked hard at Face. BA assured him it had just taken longer than they'd expected. Hannibal took the Sergeant's word for it with a nod. "Let's get our rooms for the night, then." The Colonel turned back around in his seat and lit a cigar.

Face let out a relieved sigh and resisted the urge yet again to shift in his seat. The cushion had helped some on the drive into town, but he had refused to use it in front of the other guys. BA had just shrugged and stowed it behind his seat just before Hannibal and Murdock got in the van.

Murdock now looked over at him and Face realized the pilot's eyes had been on that cushion. He cocked his head to one side and studied Face with a kind of dawning awareness. Face smiled and nervously looked away. All he needed was for everybody to know BA had spanked him. He could just imagine the ribbing he'd get over it. He avoided looking at Murdock the rest of the way until they finally turned off the highway.

Face waved off getting any dinner, and sent the other three on their way. His backside was still extremely tender, and he wanted nothing but to get undressed and maybe even have a shower. That might help him to feel better.



He inspected himself in the bathroom mirror. He expected some evidence of BA's hand on his bottom, but the solid, angry red took him by surprise. The big Sergeant had left no inch untouched. "Well, you won't pull that stunt again, will you?" Face asked his reflection. The handsome face only pouted in response.

The shower didn't help; it only made the sting far worse. Face got out quickly and dried off. He thought about getting into bed naked, but instead put on the thin cotton pajamas he always packed, since he was sharing the room with Murdock.

He'd only just gotten situated in one of the twin beds, face down, when Murdock returned to the room. "I brought ya some dinner, Face. You might not want it now, but it'll keep til you do."

"Thanks, Murdock. I'm just tired, okay?"

Murdock studied him for a moment, before he seemed to reach a decision and sat down beside Face. He speculated hesitantly, "Somethin' must've happened out there that really upset the big guy. Made him feel like he had to teach you a lesson...."

Face felt his neck and face grow as hot as his backside still was. "Murdock, what did BA tell you?" he demanded.

"Face, it's okay. He didn't tell me anything. In fact he hardly talked at all through dinner."

"Then what are you saying?"

"Face--" Murdock hesitated, then met his friend's blue eyes and admitted, "I've been the chastened recipient of BA's punishing hand a few times, myself."

The revelation made Face forget to be angry about Murdock guessing what had happened. "You mean you...? He...?"

Shocked, Face could only look at the pilot, who turned a little pink and shrugged. "Hey, even I need to be brought back inline sometimes, Facey."

"But... how did it start? I mean--"

He stopped as Murdock laughed. When Face pulled a sour look and turned his head away, Murdock was leaning down beside him instantly, hands on his shoulders. "Hey, c'mon Faceguy. I'm not laughin' at you -- believe me. I feel for you right now. But I know he wouldn't 've resorted to this if you hadn't done something to really, really deserve it. Am I right?"

The younger man slowly turned back to face him. "Yeah," he admitted finally. There were those words again: "You're right."

Murdock nodded. He got up off the bed to go into the bathroom, and returned moments later with several items. When Face started to protest, Murdock stopped him, exasperated. "Look, Face, I know how you're feelin' right now -- I know from experience that he probably blistered you good...."

"Real good," Face admitted.

Murdock smiled. "I also know you've gotta be feelin' a little embarrassed that I know about it... But we're best friends, right? Brothers. We can trust each other with anything, can't we?"

Face couldn't help smiling; it was something he needed to hear more than he would ever admit. But somehow, Murdock always knew anyway. "Yeah," he agreed.

"Our big brother punished you for somethin' you did and deserved to be disciplined for. That's the only time he'd ever do somethin' like that, Face. Otherwise, he's really just a pussy cat."

"A pussy cat with huge hands," Face put in ruefully.

He knew from the look in the compassionate brown eyes that Murdock agreed with that assessment. "So just let me help you out, okay? Let me see how bad it is, what you need most and I guarantee, you'll sleep easier tonight, muchacho. Okay?"

"Okay." Face knew he was opening himself up to a new level of intimacy with the other man, but he needed the reassurance, and the attention. And Murdock was right; he was the best and closest friend Face had ever had. With those thoughts, Face held still while Murdock pulled back the blanket and very gently eased down his pajama bottoms. After a few seconds of assessing the damage, Murdock said, "Face, you were a pretty bad boy today."

"Yeah, Murdock, I was."

A moment later Face felt a wet cloth lowered gently onto his rear. He hissed as it heightened the sting.

"I know. But it'll help take the heat out." Murdock carefully pressed the cool cloth to his cheeks. "Yep, I can feel the waves of heat lifting right off your bottom, Faceman."

Not all the heat, unfortunately, Face thought; he was sure he'd have plenty of it for days, a good reminder of what reckless behavior would get him. But he was grateful for Murdock's soothing hands. It did help.

This was followed up with the application of some hand cream Murdock had found in the bathroom. Face closed his eyes and moaned as Murdock's long fingers gently massaged the cold gel into his backside. The pilot was thorough; he patiently got to every bit of punished flesh, especially low on Face's buttocks and on his upper thighs. Once he was satisfied he'd covered everywhere it was needed, Murdock started over again. The second round felt even better, though the sting was still very much present.

"There, I'll bet that's helpin' to take the sting out," Murdock said in a soft voice.

"Yeah," Face agreed. He was marveling at the mixture of feelings, the pain as he still felt the sting and heat of the spanking, and the pleasure as the soothing ministrations helped to ease the hurt.

"When did it start, with you?" Face mumbled, curious to know.

Keeping up the gentle and slow massage, Murdock pursed his lips and thought about it. "Actually, it was several years ago. We were up in the north woods and you 'n Hannibal had gone into town for supplies. I'd gotten carried away over something, I don't know -- I think I was chasin' Billy, and I fell down into a big ol' hole. He snatched me right up out of there, made sure I was all right, then sat himself down and hauled me over his knee and let me have it. When he finished, he stood me up, put his finger in my face, and said I'd be over his knee again in an instant if I ever did anything that foolish again. I was too stunned to say anything. I just stood there 'n nodded, rubbin' my bottom and startin' to cry." He laughed at the memory. "That really got to him. He said 'Aw Murdock, you crazy fool,' and scowled like he does, you know? But I knew he had only done it 'cause he was lookin' out for me. He's still lookin' out for me, in that way."

"How, um, how often?"

"Not very. Only a few times, total. Just three or four months ago, I got my behind warmed good for trying a stunt with a helicopter. I still say I knew what I was doin', but I guess it didn't sit well with the rest of you."

"I remember that. You scared us to death. You mean he..."

"Yep, he most certainly did. Just as soon as you 'n Hannibal left in the vette. We were supposed to be right behind you in the van, but we were a good half-hour or more leaving. That was the longest time I'd spent over those big thighs of his -- and before he was done I assure you I was singin' a different tune!"

Face turned to look at Murdock. The other man didn't seem upset or even embarrassed to be sharing all this. "He said it'd happen again, next time I needed it," he admitted.

"Well, you yourself agreed you deserved it today. Do you think it helped any?"

"Yeah," Face sighed, not wanting to admit it but knowing it was the truth.

"Then I for one am grateful he's there to set you straight. Don't take this the wrong way, Facey, but I'd be willin' to bet you get more lap time with the big mudsucker than I ever will."

"Gee, thanks Murdock. That makes me feel good."

"It's not so bad, really. 'Course, that's not what I'm thinking when it's happenin'. But you get it over with, and you feel like you've made up for whatever you did wrong. The discomfort fades away in a few days, and all is right again."

"Wonder what Hannibal would say, if he knew his Sergeant spanked his Lieutenant and Captain."

"Are you kiddin'? He'd probably go cut a switch for BA to use."

"Ow." Just the idea made Face's backside throb anew. His eyes widened with a sudden thought. "He doesn't know, does he? BA said it'd be just between us...."

"I-- Well, I'll be honest with you. He's never said word one about it, but I'd be willing to bet you he has his suspicions."

"Great," Face groaned.

"Don't lose any sleep over it, Facey. He obviously approves, or he'd have put a stop to it a long time ago. If he really knows about it, that is."

Face was sure he did. Not much escaped Hannibal Smith's notice.

"There. That should help you to sleep tonight. We'll see how it is in the morning, and I can put on some more cream for you. Why don't you leave your pajama bottoms down? The air'll feel good back here, keep you cool."

"Okay. Thanks, Murdock."

Murdock went on to say something about his eating dinner, but Face drifted and soon found sleep. He felt he'd atoned for his behavior and was grateful for the caring hands -- both Murdock's and BA's.

END

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