- "I WISH I HAD YOUR
JOI de VIVRE"
- (Song-fic occurs between: “How Do I Say I Love You?” and “Keep
Talking, I'm Listening”)
-
-
- Rating: PG
- Author/Copyright: © 2003 Isabel Florence)
E-mail: isabelsparlour@yahoo.com.au
Type: Song Fiction. Light Slash. Angst. Sap.
Pairing: Murdock/Face
Status: Complete
- Chronology: 1983
Summary: Murdock musing one night about how lonely he
feels at the VA sometimes, especially missing Face being beside
him at those times. (Murdock POV). Song Fiction with light-slash
references. (This fan fiction is a direct prequel/companion to
“Keep
Talking, I'm Listening” and is
best read in conjunction with that fiction, as it will help to
make Murdock’s motives in that story a little clearer).
Warnings: Light Slash references. Angst. Sap. Mild
profanity.
Disclaimer: I do not own the A-Team characters, and am
making no profit from this story, which is a work of fan fiction
only. The A-Team characters solely belong to Universal, Frank Lupo
and Stephen J. Cannell, and I thank them for their existence.
Thanks &
Acknowledgments: To the beta
readers: Karen Davis, Howlin’ Thunderbird (T-Bird) and Val Thomas
with deep thanks for all your valuable help, assistance and input.
Thank you! :o)
Featured Song: “Sometimes” - © 2002 BMG Australia
Limited. Vocals: Australian Singer John Farnham. Lyrics: Steve
Romig - Orient Pacific Music/Remix Publishing. From the John
Farnham album, “The Last Time”.
- Comment?: Yes. :o)
-
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- *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
-
-
- It’s so damn hard sometimes, being
alone.
Sometimes I feel all twisted about, frustrated, longing for so
much, which seems just beyond my grasp.
-
- “Sometimes I feel folded, like a piece of paper
Dirty with the fingerprints of unrepentant hands
- Who never ever think about
the words of love inside me
- ‘Cause it’s all so plain
and simple that no-one understands”
-
- There are times when the nights at
the VA seem endless. Nights when sleep eludes me; when the waking
dreams intrude to haunt me. When love seems so near, within my
grasp, and yet, and yet, all just seems to slip away again.
Sometimes the days are no better.
Whereas in the night it hurts so deep inside to be apart from him,
during the day it cuts like a knife. Chokes me. Smothers me with
longing and a desire for more than this.
-
- “Sometimes I feel congested, like peak hour in the
city
Choking on the petrol and the diesel and the dust
I sit and wonder how we all could be so stupid
And I want to leave my vehicle and let it turn to rust”
-
- The nights creep past, the darkness
mocking me with its hidden dreams, and I ache. Every part of me
aches. Aches so badly for his touch. For the sweet caress of his
hands. For the sweet intoxication of his lips on mine, of our
souls connecting.
Aches with the longing to hear his boyish
voice, to hear the joy for life in it. To hear the way his voice
dances with humor and delight when something amuses him.
When I amuse him.
When something makes his heart leap.
When I make his heart leap.
When something excites or challenges him.
When I excite him.
-
- “And I wish that I had your confidence
I wish I had your smile
I wish I had your joie de vivre
Your innate sense of style”
-
- The longing to wake up beside him
every night is overwhelming. To wake with his protective arms
around me, to hear him say...
“I love you.”
But it's not meant to be. Not yet, anyway.
Sometimes it’s such sweet agony being apart from him.
So close and yet so far from him.
He’s a telephone call away, but it’s still too far.
He needs to be here.
I need him here.
-
- “And I wish I had your body near me
Warming up my nights
Saying oooh babe, baby it’s alright”
-
- My soul cries out to him sometimes,
and I awaken the next day heavy eyed and drained.
Sometimes - seems like a lot lately - when life in general is
getting me down, and all the little things seem so hard to cope
with, when my mind whirls around like a kaleidoscope, needing Face
so much at those times is nearly unbearable.
Thoughts of loving him used to help. Used to help a lot. Used to
focus me. Make me feel steadier. Make me feel in control.
But lately...
Just lately...
It’s so damn hard.
Sometimes I think it’s too hard.
Sometimes I want it to end.
Our relationship, that is.
Surely it would all be easier without him? Without him right here
in my soul, absorbing everything I am, everything I want or wish
to be.
But I ache for him.
Burn for him.
Love him with soul crushing intensity.
God, I miss him in these in between times. These times between the
missions, or the odd special days out which we spend together.
These times of lonely nights, and maddening days filled with
thoughts of him, and of longing.
-
- “Sometimes I feel miniscule, just like an
amoeba
Floating on a plate of glass watched by unseen eyes
And I feel so cold and lonely in that instant of existence
And I wonder if someone's watching me up above the sky”
-
- Sometimes I feel like I’m choking,
fighting for every breath.
Then along he comes and it all goes away, just for those moments
in time, until he leaves again.
He visits; of course he does, whenever he can find the way, as
often as he can.
If only he didn't have to go again, especially before the darkness
falls.
I'm not sure I can go on like this; it messes with my head.
I love him and yet...
And yet...
And yet, I don’t know what the solution is.
It’s so lonely here sometimes.
-
- “Perhaps there are no solutions
Perhaps just other questions
Maybe there’s a meaning to my solitary life
And I know that there’s no guarantees
There’s just the pain of living
Perhaps there are no solutions
Maybe there’s just life”
-
- The phone is ringing.
How does he know?
I know it’s him, ‘cause he always knows. Something, some sixth
sense seems to alert him. Always when I’m at my lowest point, he
calls me, like a radar tuned to my emotions.
Sometimes it helps.
It used to help a great deal.
Only a few weeks back, even a few words with him, or a glimpse of
him, or a touching of our hearts, would have steadied me, and
grounded me firmly back in reality, anchoring me to him.
To life.
Now, these days, sometimes it just seems to make it all so much
worse.
Picking up the phone, I listen for his well-loved
voice.
- “Murdock?” he says, sounding
uncertain, sounding concerned.
“Yeah, ya got me, muchacho. Howlin’ Mad in
the flesh, larger’n life,” I say, making the words flip as always,
hiding away what’s really going on.
He’s not fooled, any more than I am by him, of course.
“Just thought I’d call, Murdock. Feeling
lonely, I guess.” And, he does sound wistful.
Trust Face to make it sound as if he needs
me, when he must know it’s the other way around tonight.
Trust him to help me find a way to save face in front of him.
Or is it?
Maybe he does need me?
Maybe it’s not the other way around?
Maybe...
“Yeah, me too, Facey. It’s a bit borin’ here
sometimes.”
Boring? Wow, what a word. About describes my feelings as, as ‘a
tad warm’ describes a roaring white-hot furnace.
“I miss you,” he whispers, after a pause,
the longing in his voice too real to be feigned, and my heart
begins to skyrocket.
“You could always come on over, muchacho.” I
keep my voice casual, light, not quite serious. I don’t expect him
to. Don’t even know why I suggested it. It’s nearly three in the
morning after all. He’d never be able to get in.
Actually, on the other hand, he probably could with his brilliant
breaking and entering skills.
The question is; would he?
There’s been silence on the line for a long minute now.
“Are you sure, Murdock?” And, aw geez,
there’s such longing in his voice. But also such nervous
uncertainty, like he can’t believe the offer is real.
Like he thinks he’s being teased.
Like he expects me to laugh at his gullibility any second
now.
“Yeah. Yeah, Faceguy. Sure I'm sure.” More
sure than I’ve ever been.
“I'll be right over, don’t go anywhere.” And
now there’s that excited boyish tone crept into his voice. Face’s
brand of the Jazz. He can’t resist a challenge, and I just know he
sees breaking into the VA at three in the morning as a
challenge.
Me as the reward.
Just where he expects me to go...
“Stayin’ put as ordered, Lieutenant Facey.”
My chuckle seems to make him happy. “Love ya, Faceguy,” I say after a slight
pause.
“Love you too, darlin’.” He drawls the last
word out. “See ya on the flip side,” he then says, stealing one of
my lines with amusement in his voice, hanging up without waiting
for my response.
Face is coming and suddenly I can breathe again.
The choking sensation is all gone.
But God, I don’t know how much more I can take of this.
I just don’t know.
All I know is that I love him, and I wish I had his body near me,
making everything alright.
-
- “And I wish that I had your confidence
I wish I had your smile
I wish I had your joie de vivre
Your innate sense of style
And I wish I had your body near me
Warming up my nights
Saying oooh babe, baby it’s alright”
-
- Now he’s lying here in my arms -
breaking in no obstacle to the Faceman - a smile on his lips, eyes
closed in contented slumber, and for a while, everything feels
alright.
But...
I don’t know.
I just don’t.
-
- Sometimes I feel folded,
like a piece of paper
- Dirty with the
fingerprints of unrepentant hands
Who never ever think about the words of love inside
me
‘Cause it's all so plain and
simple that no-one understands
Sometimes I feel congested, like peak hour in the
city
- Choking on the petrol and
the diesel and the dust
And I sit and wonder how we all could be so stupid
And I want to leave my vehicle and let it turn to rust
And I wish that I had your confidence
I wish I had your smile
I wish I had your joie de vivre
Your innate sense of style
And I wish I had your body near me
Warming up my nights
Saying oooh babe, baby it’s alright
Sometimes I feel miniscule, just like an amoeba
Floating on a plate of glass watched by unseen eyes
And I feel so cold and lonely in that instant of existence
And I wonder if someone’s watching me up above the sky
And I wish that I had your confidence
I wish I had your smile
I wish I had your joie de vivre
Your innate sense of style
And I wish I had your body near me
Warming up my nights
Saying oooh babe, baby it’s alright
Perhaps there are no solutions
Perhaps just other questions
Maybe there’s a meaning to my solitary life
And I know that there’s no guarantees
There’s just the pain of living
Perhaps there are no solutions
Maybe there’s just life
And I wish that I had your confidence
I wish I had your smile
I wish I had your joie de vivre
Your innate sense of style
And I wish I had your body near me
Warming up my nights
Saying oooh babe, oooh babe, baby it’s alright
“Sometimes”
© 2002 BMG Limited Australia
-
- Finis. :o)
- Copy
Right: (c) 2003
Isabel Florence
- Main Fan
Fiction Menu for the A-Team writings of Isabel Florence:
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- E-mail
To: isabelsparlour@yahoo.com.au
-