Illustration
"Hiya, sweetheart." Murdock playfully tapped her pert nose. "Ready to go dancing?"
He paused a moment to admire the way the hazy sunlight lit her smooth skin. He smiled and made an appreciative sound in the back of his throat.
"'Course we need to do first things first."
He ran his hand gently down her side.
"That's gorgeous." He slid beneath her and ran the palm of his hand lightly along her belly.
"Beautiful." He trailed his fingertips down one leg, already anticipating the heights they would reach together.
"Perfect. That's my pretty--"
"Murdock!"
Murdock yelped, leapt to his feet, then yelled again as he cracked
his head on the underside of a wing. "Youch! Jeez, Face, you gotta
not creep up on people like that."
"Sorry. You about done here?"
"Yeah, just finishing up the preflights." Murdock gently stroked the wing he'd just headbutted. "Sorry about that, lady."
Face raised his eybrows. "Murdock, what are you doing?"
Murdock kept his hand resting on the wingtip as he glanced back at Face.
"Preflight." He smiled serenely. "You can't rush these things you know."
"Uh-huh." Face gave him an odd look but apparently decided not to press the subject any further.
"So, you got those maps for me?" Murdock asked.
Face tossed him a folded wad of papers.
"Hannibal's theory is that bad guys won't notice another little plane over head. You all set to lose yourself in the tourist traffic?"
"Sure thing."
Murdock patted the wing of the Cessna affectionately.
"All ready to fly, pretty lady?"
+
Murdock settled the headset comfortably and radioed the control tower.
"Mother, Sierra, Uniform, Yankee, requesting permission for take off..."