As always: no recogizable characters are mine.

This drabblish-having-nothing-to-do-with-nothing fic is dedicated to my friend Kelly, who doesn't read fanfiction. But she is adorable and lovely and an awesome person all around! The final bit of conversation in this piece has been written verbatim of a discussion we had, with the addition of the word "ain't" only for the story. She wouldn't say that (she's proper and stuff). B.A., the poor fellow, has been cast as her.


"You ever hear of the Devil's Swimming Pool?"

Sometimes, words out of a certified crazy man sounded even crazier than could be thought possible.

"Yeah," Hannibal replied.

Of course Hannibal would take the random, off the cuff question in stride. Andknow exactly what Murdock was talking about.

The pilot nodded. "Cool. I think we should do that."

"Hmm."

The grunted response to that wasn't entirely encouraging.

Face tried to ignore the weird half discussion. He really did. But he liked people. He liked being included in conversations. He didn't like not knowing things that apparently were common knowledge, even if the people discussing them weren't common: a mental patient and a man who could be crazier than the mental patient, when he was on the jazz.

He hated having to ask. He hated looking dumb, which was why he cultivated his inner scam artist and took the phrase: "Fake It Till You Make It" to heart. Around his team, however, he was able to let the urbane façade slip.

"What's the Devil's Swimming Pool?"

Murdock popped up, happy to oblige in filling Face in on where it was (Victoria Falls), what it was (a natural pool made during the dry season, on the very precipice of the Falls themselves), and how it would be a safe but seemingly death-defying experience (Face wasn't quite sold on that).

To give credence to his explanation, Murdock pulled up information and videos on the laptop.

Face read and watched, fascinated. People actually did that. There were people actually sitting six inches away from a 100 meter drop, while water rushed passed them on either side, making so much noise it was difficult to hear what they were saying on the videos.

"Cool, isn't it?" Murdock's eyes were shiny with eagerness.

Face decided he could at least grace his best friend with a more complete answer than Hannibal's.

"It's . . . something, all right. Maybe, if we're ever in Zambia . . ."

He could be polite to his friend, but he leaned back so Murdock didn't see him, and the look he gave Hannibal very pointedly said,

"DO NOT EVER AGREE TO TAKE A JOB IN ZAMBIA."

Hannibal chuckled.

B.A. walked through the living room on the way to the kitchen. Face, happy that he was now on-board with the information, called out to him,
"Bosco! Ever hear of the Devil's Swimming Pool?"

The big black man stopped in his tracks and very carefully turned to face him. Looking carefully over the room, he took in the computer on the coffee table, Murdock's absorption and glee with whatever might be on the screen, Hannibal's continued subtle disapproval, and Face's obvious pleasure in asking.

He knew he'd be hounded if he just tried to ignore everything and continue out of the room. Face could be as bad as Murdock, when it came to being an immature pest. The words slid out of his mouth on their own accord in a resigned way.

"That's something sexual, ain't it?"

A very quick hush fell over the room, and then both Face and Murdock howled in laughter. Hannibal turned another chuckle into a cough as B.A. looked disconcerted.

"I think you're thinking a devil's three-way, son," he said, not unkindly.

At that, the other two roared again and leaned against each other, so weak from laughter they couldn't hold themselves upright. B.A. scowled and made to leave the room.

"W-wait! Wait!" Face cried, wiping tears off his cheeks. "I need to know what you think the Devil's Swimming Pool is,in sexual terms! Because the images I'm getting—"

"Shut up, fool."

B.A. stomped away, leaving the fools to their fool laughter and crazy, childish, fool terms.