A/N: A random, silly idea I had that I decided to write. Face and Murdock have one of their brotherly fights, this time over a beach towel.

"All right," Hannibal spoke through his cigar as he flipped through a small black notebook. "According to Tommy Reiger's great-grandfather's diary, that necklace is buried somewhere on this beach. It rightfully belongs to Tommy and his family, but Joe Kessler and his slimeballs want to buy up this property so they can dig up the necklace for themselves."

"It'd be well worth the investment," Face added. "Given the fact that, when it was buried, the necklace was worth at least three times what Kessler is offering Tommy for the property. And that was over half a century ago."

"Right," Hannibal pointed his cigar at his second-in-command and nodded emphatically. "Tommy's gonna start digging out here as soon as he gets the equipment he needs, which should be sometime tomorrow morning."

"So all we've gotta do tonight is make sure that Kessler doesn't send his goons out here to do some late-night treasure hunting." Face said. He loaded the last of the ammo and handed the weapon to Hannibal.

"Right," Hannibal hefted the machine gun. "Now, B.A. and I will take the first watch. Face and Murdock, you guys get rested up for the second watch. We'll switch off every four hours."

He looked around the half circle and saw his men nod their agreement, the light from the lantern reflecting off each of their faces. A short distance away, the waves lapped gently against the shore. A full moon shone brightly in the star-studded night sky, making the lantern almost unnecessary.

They had been out here since late afternoon, and they had made good use of their time. The four of them had gotten to relax a bit—although they had kept a close eye out for Kessler and his men—as they went swimming and had a picnic dinner on the beach. Murdock had even built a sand kingdom— "Y'know, most people would be satisfied with just one castle," Face had teased him —and declared himself ruler over his sandy domain, until B.A. saw fit to destroy it.

"You got it, Colonel." Murdock laced his fingers behind his head and stretched himself out on the royal blue beach towel. The cool material felt good against his slightly sunburned bare back.

Face had just finished packing up the remaining ammo in the army green duffel bag they had brought; he looked up from his seat on the log in front of the lantern. "Aw Murdock, ya took my towel." he whined. He walked over to the now-occupied item in question and glared down at its occupant.

Murdock shrugged slightly and looked at his friend through half-closed lids. "Ya move, ya lose, buddy. 'Sides, you know I got sunburned earlier. I don't wanna lay on the sand. It'll hurt. And then my skin will get all irritated and peely."

"I told you ya shoulda worn sunscreen." Face pointed out. "And why didn't you bring your own towel?"

"I left it in the van." Murdock mumbled. "But I don't feel like goin' all the way out to the parking lot to get it. Yours is more comfortable anyway."

"Yeah, well I don't wanna get sand in my hair." Face complained.

Murdock shrugged again and closed his eyes the rest of the way. "You'll just have to find something else to lay on."

"Fine," he heard his friend mutter.

Murdock smirked. "I knew you'd see reason—oof!" He opened his eyes to see Face lying perpendicular to him, using Murdock's stomach as a pillow. Face closed his eyes, looking very relaxed and self-satisfied.

Murdock scooped up a handful of sand and sprinkled it over Face's head.

"Ack!" Face bolted upright and frantically brushed the sand out of his hair. "Murdock! That does it, gimme my towel!"

Murdock leaped to his feet and snatched up the towel. "You're gonna hafta come get it!" he taunted as he took off down the beach.

Face ran after him, following close at his heels. He overtook Murdock and tackled him to the ground, and con man, pilot, and towel all went rolling.

Back at the campsite, Hannibal and B.A. watched the scuffle.

"You think we oughta break it up?" B.A. asked.

"I'm putting my money on Murdock." Hannibal said.

B.A. looked surprised for a moment. Then he grinned. "Nah, man. Faceman's got this one."

"He's not as strong as Murdock." Hannibal pointed out. "He doesn't have the same endurance level."

"Maybe not, but he's got more motivation to win."

Hannibal glanced sidelong at him. "Twenty bucks?"

"Deal." The two men shook hands and resumed watching their comrades battle it out in the sand.

"Murdock, give—me—back—my—oof—towel!"

"No way! Fair's fair, and you—ah!—abandoned it—ugh—so I took it!"

"I was loading the— umph!—the ammo if you—ah!—remember!"

Face pinned Murdock to the ground and made a grab for the towel. Murdock pushed up and rolled, attempting to switch their positions. As Face's back hit the sand, he let out a sharp cry of pain.

Murdock let go of him and sat up straight. He looked around and immediately saw it: there, sticking out of the sand, was the sharp edge of a mostly-buried seashell. And there was the blood on it from where Face had rolled over it.

Murdock turned to his friend. "Where'd it get you?"

Face craned his neck around to look at the cut on his back a few inches below his right shoulder.

Murdock inspected the wound. "It doesn't look too bad. C'mon, we'll get you a bandage." He stood and slung the towel over his shoulder and offered Face a hand to help him up. The two of them headed back toward the campsite.

Hannibal and B.A., having heard the pained yelp, had the first-aid kit waiting when Face and Murdock returned.

Murdock put on a mock-serious expression. "Colonel, we have a wounded man here."

Hannibal played along. "Well Dr. Murdock, see what you can do for him."

Murdock saluted him and Hannibal returned the gesture. Then the pilot took the washcloth and the bandage roll B.A. held out to him and sat down next to Face.

"Dr. Murdock." Face grimaced. "Now that is a scary thought. Ouch!" he winced as Murdock rubbed iodine on the cut.

"Sorry, Faceguy. 'Course this is your fault..."

"My fault?" Face looked indignant. "Who rolled me onto that shell in the first place?"

"You tackled me first." Murdock argued as he taped a bandage over the cut.

"Because you had my towel!" Face retorted.

"Oh, yeah. About that." Murdock seemed to get a little more serious. He picked up the towel from where he had discarded it. He shook it out and spread it out on the sand. "You can have it. You don't wanna get sand in that cut. It'll sting like crazy."

Face looked surprised. "Well thank you, Murdock." He lay down on his reclaimed towel and closed his eyes. "Ah, what's a little cut? It was worth it to get my towel back. Oof!" he opened his eyes to find Murdock lying against him, using Face's stomach as a pillow.

"Get off me, Murdock!" Face shoved him; Murdock didn't budge.

"I didn't complain when you were layin' on me, and lemme tell you buddy, your head feels like a cement block."

"Yeah? Well, your ribs aren't exactly the most comfortable pillow." Face poked Murdock in the side for emphasis.

"Quit it!" Murdock slapped Face's hand. Face continued to poke him and within seconds a poke war broke out.

Hannibal looked at B.A. "Do you think we ought to intervene?"

"Nah. I'm still waitin' to see which of us wins twenty bucks."

Face and Murdock both froze mid-poke.

"You guys bet on our fight?" Face looked slightly offended.

"Ain't the first time." B.A. muttered.

Now Face and Murdock both looked offended.

"Time to call this one a draw." Hannibal said. "You two need to rest up before it's your turn on watch."

Murdock lay back against Face's stomach, muttering about how that was what he'd been trying to do all along until someone decided to tackle him...

Face rolled his eyes and tried again, unsuccessfully, to push Murdock off of him. Murdock smirked and closed his eyes, and within minutes he was sound asleep.

Face sighed. "Well it doesn't look like I'm going anywhere for a few hours."

He let his own eyelids drift closed, but not before poking Murdock in the ribs one more time. "Next time, big brother." He whispered with a grin. "Next time."