DRESSING - "WINDOW DRESSING"


...they did not want to know that their world was not as it seemed. - Judith Spencer


They leaned casually against the van, watching the geese in the Tidal Basin. Nobody had said anything for a long time, each with their own thoughts. It was getting late in the afternoon, and they all knew a decision would have to be made soon. And it would be a very big decision.

Face stared at the water. Hannibal had told them about that conversation with Stockwell, and that "Not any more." part. He'd assumed Hannibal was referring to getting the girl back. Murdock had to have been thinking the same. He'd basically said so, back at the nursing home. "... if we get a pardon...". Yeah, that didn't sound like walking out on Stockwell. But then Hannibal started talking about what they were going to do after everything was over. As if they had to make a choice, here, and now. As if they could.

The next thing he knew they were here, watching the damn geese.

After trying to leave weeks ago, Face had had a lot of time to think about it. Had a lot of talks with Hannibal about it. And he'd come to the realization that he really didn't want to leave, not until he had that piece of paper saying he didn't have to run any more. Murdock felt the same. Well, pretty close. He didn't want to be in fights that weren't of their choosing, didn't want Stockwell pulling the strings. BA was easy to figure out. He'd follow Hannibal wherever, whenever, and it was clear he'd been ready to leave practically before Hannibal finished his little "slimeballs" spiel. Frankie, well, Frankie just wanted his 'career' back, so he might try to stay here and get his pardon. Despite his disdain for the general, Face didn't think he'd hold it against Frankie if the others left. Hell, Stockwell would probably give him a pardon just to get him out of his hair.

So, if Hannibal decided to leave, Murdock and BA would go with him, pardons be damned. Franklie may or may not, but they'd worked just fine without him before. That left Face.

He was tired of Stockwell, damn tired. But the thought of going back to running every time someone like Decker found them... And who knows who the military would put on their tail this time. They were convicted murderers after all. No, he didn't want to go back to that. And, hate it as he might, Villa Cucina was still very much on his mind, constantly making him think about what could've happened if Stockwell hadn't been there to pave the way. Where he might be right now. What if something like that happened again, with no Stockwell or his protections, and no pardons either?

He suddenly realized the others were watching him, expecting the usual protests before he followed the colonel. That's what he always did. It was just the way things worked.

He was damned one way or the other. He just wasn't sure which scared him more...