It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them. - Ralph Waldo Emerson
"You're not George Lucas. You're not."
And that had been that. Hannibal hadn't mentioned the movie again. Hadn't said anything about being careless, not thinking, ignoring reality - nothing. It was as if it never happened. Face frankly didn't understand why. Even after dealing with Daniel Running Bear's horse problem. Nothing.
Of course, that didn't stop Face from berating himself. Sure, he might have gotten away with it if he'd handled it differently. But he'd fucked up. Really fucked up. And Hannibal hadn't said a damn thing.
It was worse than if he'd had him running an obstacle course for a week.
As the days went by, moving into weeks, and still nothing from Hannibal, Face's self-recriminations morphed into a paranoia about his scams. Even the small jobs that required only minor acquisitions had him double and triple checking his plans, what he said, how he said it, what clothes he wore... He wouldn't fuck up again. No way.
He was a wreck.
He stood on the deck of his latest scammed house, watching the sunset. It was set apart from the other houses, no near neighbors. Nobody around to ask questions, try to be friendly. Nobody coming around at all.
Until the doorbell rang. He damn near spilled his beer, he spun around so quickly. Damn! He hadn't heard anyone drive up. He looked around, scanning the area behind the house. No MPs sneaking up. At least, none he could see. What if...
The doorbell rang again.
Decker wouldn't ring the doorbell, idiot.
He opened the door, dumbstruck to see Hannibal standing there.
Hannibal smiled, stepped inside and headed immediately for the kitchen. Grabbing a cold brew, he wandered out to the deck, staring, as Face had, at the sunset over the ocean.
"Uh, something you need, Colonel? New client, or... something?"
"No, just needed to relax a bit." He pulled out a cigar, just looking at it. "Murdock showed up this morning. Broke himself out."
Face frowned. 'Damn, was I supposed to get him today?'
"He was having one of his impossibly 'up' days. Probably why he didn't call for a pick-up. Just walked off the grounds. And of course, BA was already at my place, working on the van. Again." He glanced at Face, giving him a wry smile. "You probably know how that went. BA was changing the oil, Murdock decided to help... When I left, there was a pool of oil on the garage floor and BA was chasing Murdock around the house - in his oily coveralls - while Murdock was using every piece of furniture he came to to try and stop him."
"Ouch."
"Yeah. Sometimes I wonder why I let them get by with that shit. Murdock may be crazy, but he's not that crazy. And BA - I don't know why he can't just lock him in a closet when he gets to be too much. Like a couple of grade schoolers."
"True." Face was puzzled. Hannibal didn't usually complain about the antics of those two. It was just a given.
"But then again, it never lasts too long. And I tend to go a bit overboard myself. Let the jazz get the best of me. Although it usually works out." He sighed. "But not always."
Face remained silent.
"I guess we all let things get out of hand now and then. Good thing we've got each other, bring us back down to earth, let us move on from it. Not a lot of people have friends like that." He looked straight at Face then. "Nice to know we'll still have each other's backs, isn't it?"
Face said nothing, then smiled.
"Yeah, it is, Hannibal. It sure is."