SOME GIRLS HAVE ALL THE LOVE

Author's Note: 'Some Guys Have All The Love' written by Porter Howell & Dwayne
 O'Brien, sung by Little Texas.

 *******************
 SOME GIRLS HAVE ALL THE LOVE
 by
 Madelyn Scott
 *******************

 Amy gave a groan as the sound of the alarm penetrated her skull. 'Maybe if I
 just lay here for a minute,' she thought, 'this will turn out to be a horrible
 dream and I can go back to sleep.' She dived underneath the pillow. But the
 noise persisted, and finally, she summoned up the strength to emerge and
 clamber out of bed. It couldn't be 7AM already. She felt like she'd only been
 asleep for a couple of hours. Which, come to think of it, she had. She'd spent
 most of the night at the typewriter drinking hot coffee, working towards her
 forthcoming deadline. Okay, so it was only one column, but it was her first
 front page story, and God willing, it might just give her enough kudos
 upstairs at the paper to get her away from society weddings for good. Pulling
 a face at the dark shadows under her eyes in the bathroom mirror, Amy had her
 doubts whether it was really worth it.

 Showered and dressed, she went downstairs to unbolt the front door and fetch
 the mail from the box, shuffling idly through it as she came back inside. Half
 a dozen mail order catalogs and insurance sales leaflets found a home in the
 trash basket on the way to the kitchen. Only three envelopes were vaguely
 interesting, one plain white with no return address, and two large manila that
 looked like they could be returns on job applications. Well, if LA didn't
 appreciate her talents, Amy Allen was darn well going to find someplace that
 would.

 She cooked waffles and ate while she read. Chicago was polite but showed
 little interest in her resume. New York was less polite and showed even less
 interest. By the time she reached for the last letter, Amy was feeling
 profoundly depressed.

 What she wasn't prepared for was the Cupid fronted card inside the envelope.
 She stared at it for a moment, then glanced up at the calendar. February 14th.
 Valentine's Day, and she hadn't even thought about it until now. But who would
 be sending her Valentine cards? It had been six months since she'd broken up
 with her last boyfriend, and Amy had thrown herself into her career after
 that. What with tagging along on missions and writing up her pieces for the
 paper afterwards, she'd probably given more time to the A-Team than any other
 guys. No, romance was definitely not high on the Allen agenda right now.

 All the same, she couldn't help feeling just a little tingle of pleasure as
 she opened the card. What was it about a Valentine that made her feel like a
 sentimental teenager again?

 The handwriting inside was very quick and adult. Beneath the printed
 sentimental verse and a little sketched heart, the message read, 'The secret's
 out...I love you!'

 Amy turned over the envelope again, scrutinizing it for some kind of clue.
 Nothing. Just her name and address in the same upright writing, and an
 anonymous district postmark. Replacing the card carefully, she propped it up
 against the juice pitcher, and finished off breakfast with a small smile on
 her face.

 The freeway traffic was hell. After being honked and cussed a dozen times, Amy
 was in nearly as bad a mood as she had been on waking. She had almost
 forgotten about the intriguing card by the time she reached the offices of the
 LA Courier Express. But, waiting in the lobby for the elevator, she was
 suddenly assaulted from both sides by Elaine Larson and Tawnia Baker.

 "Hey, Amy, what's the little secret you've been hiding away?"

 "*Who's* the little secret, more like!"

 "Yeah, we're supposed to be her best friends! And she's been keeping some hunk
 in the closet without telling us!"

 "Wait a minute! Wait!" Amy held up both hands for silence. "Now," she went on,
 "would you guys mind telling me exactly what you're talking about?"

 "You mean you don't know?" pouted Tawnia. She looked crestfallen, obviously
 having been working herself up for a long interrogation.

 "No, I don't."

 Elaine grinned. "Then step right this way, honey!"

 They insisted the protesting Amy keep her eyes shut all the way through the
 office until they reached her desk. When she was finally permitted to look,
 she blushed. There waiting for her was the most beautiful basket of pink and
 white tea roses and narcissi.

 "Aren't they just gorgeous?" cooed Tawnia.

 Amy bent over the flowers, lifting one of the roses to catch the scent. There
 was a small white card tucked in amongst the blooms, and she carefully fished
 it out. 'Valentine,' it read, 'you hold my heart...take good care of it!'

 Considering her gift on the way back from the coffee machine, Amy decided this
 had to be a joke. But who was playing it? Her sister and brother-in-law were
 good candidates, for a start. She grinned, picking up the phone and pressing
 for an outside line. Laura had always been the family prankster, and Amy being
 alone on Valentine's Day was probably just too good an opportunity to miss.

 But when she got through to the house in San Diego, Laura vehemently protested
 her innocence. She had been going to give Amy a joke card, but had forgotten
 to mail it in time, and she certainly hadn't sent any flowers. But the whole
 affair tickled her pink.

 "You've blown it now, Amy! You're going to have to tell all. Jeff's gone to
 work, and there's a cheesecake in the refrigerator that's not going to let me
 off lightly if I don't get some distraction. And I don't want any details left
 out, either!"

 "There aren't any details. I don't know who this guy is, or even if there *is*
 a guy! I thought it was you or Mom."

 "Oh, I think it's possible my cute baby sister has a secret admirer...or
 three."

 "Laurie!"

 "Amy, relax! Make the most of it while it lasts! If someone's taking all this
 trouble, there's a pretty good chance he's serious enough. He's going to speak
 up sometime. Maybe sooner than you think."

 Amy tapped thoughtfully with a pen as she hung up the phone, chewing on her
 lower lip. Who in the world was *doing* this? There just wasn't anyone she
 thought of romantically or gave any indication of thinking of her the same
 way. It was kind of fun, but it was also driving her nuts.

 Turning her thoughts towards work again was difficult, but after a couple of
 strong sweet coffees, Amy was trudging through the final draft of her story.
 First-hand experience, as well as her reporter's eye for a scoop, was going
 into this too. It wasn't exactly her idea of fun to be held in a warehouse by
 Vinnie Gebaldi's boys, after the mobster had heard that the photographs Miss
 Amy Allen had managed to dig up might look a little bad in his forthcoming
 court case. And if the A-Team rescuing her and depositing Gebaldi in the lap
 of the FBI wasn't exciting reading, she didn't know what was. Amy missed break
 and lunch as she pored over her typewriter, pulling herself up on every
 mistake and hackneyed phrase not expected from a front-page columnist. People
 started to trickle back from the diners and the building canteen.

 Her regular lunch companions returned. Amy suddenly caught a mention of her
 name, and looked up. Smiles and gentle giggles were being aimed in her
 direction. Elaine put a large candy-striped gift box down in front of her.

 "This was just delivered at the front desk! Well," her friend urged gleefully,
 "aren't you going to open it?"

 "Hmmm..."

 "Oh, Amy, come on! I haven't had a man after me in years, and I'm going to
 make darn sure you enjoy this!"

 Amy laughed despite herself, lifting the lid, and peeking inside. Underneath
 the tissue paper was the most enormous box of assorted chocolate candies,
 being ably guarded by a fuzzy teddy bear. The slogan on his miniature
 sweatshirt read, 'Be mine today...and I'll be yours forever!'

 At 5PM that afternoon, Zach leaned over Amy's desk.

 "Eldridge wants to see ya. Five minutes, in his office."

 "Okay, okay..." Amy frantically pulled a sheet out of her typewriter, adding
 it to the folder beside her on the desk. Finally she looked around her with a
 little sigh of relief. "Well, I'm done. Guess I'd better go face the lions."

 "Yeah, I don't know about thorns in paws, but Eldridge has sure got a thorn in
 his side today."

 Amy grinned. "Maybe he didn't get a Valentine."

 Zach twitched an eyebrow. "Maybe his wife *did*."

 They both laughed as Amy rose from her chair.

 "Well," she said, crossing her fingers theatrically, "wish me luck."

 "Luck." After a moment, her colleague added, "You deserve it."

 "Thanks, Zach." A thought crossed her mind as he turned to go. "Hey. Sure it's
 not you been sending all this stuff today?"

 "Are you kidding? Janine's the jealous type! She'd break my arm if I suggested
 a Valentine for another woman."

 Navigating her way across the crowded office, Amy knocked on the door of the
 Express's editor, Grant Eldridge. At the answering grunt, she squared her
 shoulders and entered with a smile, trying to look the model of young ambition
 and efficiency.

 Eldridge had an unpleasant potted plant on his desk, which he was watering
 from a paper cup, but when Amy came in, he returned it to the top of the
 filing cabinet. Zach was right; he didn't look in the best of moods. Best to
 jump right on in, she decided, rush this thing through while we're still
 civil.

 "I'm sorry it's so close to the deadline. But this was important, and I wanted
 it to be right."

 "Makes no difference."

 "Come on, Grant! Since when did a front page column make no difference?"

 "That's what I hauled you in here about. We're going to have to pull the
 story."

 Amy's words froze and died in her throat. "What?" she managed to say.

 "I'm sorry," Eldridge added.

 She drew herself up, trying to keep her emotions level. "Are you going to give
 me a reason this time?"

 He handed her a sheet of paper.

 Amy looked down at the draft copy and back up again. "Jake Landers - the soap
 actor? Mr. phony enigmatic smile and 'Hey, being so famous is really boring'?
 You're running this instead?"

 "Saved some girl from drowning down at Venice beach."

 "Oh, Grant, come on! I read that trash when it came off the wire. The water
 was about three feet deep! What are you running here, a paper or the National
 Inquirer?"

 "He's popular. Anything with his name on gets readers." The editor shrugged.
 "It's what the public likes. Their clean-cut centerfold boy coming out a hero.
 Gives them something to feel good about, hold their heads up and be proud of
 their country's own."

 "My story was *about* real heroes!"

 "Military fugitives on the run from the US government doesn't stand right
 under the Captain America banner, does it?" Eldridge leaned on his desk. He
 ran a hand across his brow, suddenly looking a little weary. "Look. I've given
 you a free rein with this little crusade of yours. God knows there's already
 been things printed that's gotten a few question marks after all our names at
 the Pentagon. I'm talking delicate stuff here, Amy! Articles coming out in
 favor of wanted criminals, showing the military in a bad light. That's risky
 stuff to be running on the local press, let alone a city paper! Maybe you
 should be thanking your guardian angel you've still got a career. And if you
 want to further that career with this paper, or anyplace else, you're going to
 have to wise up."

 "Wise up?" Amy inquired, her tone laced with sarcasm.

 "Yeah. Take what space you're given to play with and say thankyou. And don't
 ever start expecting your personal causes to be the number one on my agenda!"

 "Grant -"

 "Forget it!"

 For a minute, they were squared up across six feet of carpet. Then Amy said,
 her words dropping in the silence, "Is that all?"

 "That's all."

 "Then I guess I'll be going," said Amy. Taking the draft copy of the A-Team's
 first and only front page from under her arm, she put the folder on Eldridge's
 desk. "Read it, Grant," she said, facing the editor. "It's all about three
 guys who were rejected by their country. But instead of becoming crooks, or
 terrorists, they chose to help it. Just a little here and a little there, and
 all those little things added up to a whole lot of grateful Americans. Makes a
 wonderful story." And she turned around and walked out of the room.

 "Hey, wait up!" Tawnia followed on Amy's heels as she headed for the door with
 her purse and jacket. "Are you leaving now? Amy, you didn't even pick up your
 flowers!" she lamented.

 Amy paused with a short sigh. "I forgot. Will you help me carry things?"

 "Yeah, let me get my stuff, okay, and I'll walk down with you. My boyfriend's
 picking me up in ten minutes."

 Amy waited beside her desk, absently plucking the odd petal off a narcissus.
 She suddenly felt cynical. All this was probably from some guy right here in
 the office who'd been laughing himself sick with his buddies behind her back
 all day long. Ten to one, she was going to walk in here tomorrow and feel like
 a real jerk. There weren't any tall dark handsome strangers any more, just
 like there weren't any dragons and there weren't any princesses, and all the
 knights' shining armor needed a real good polish.

 "So what's wrong?" asked Tawnia, as the two girls walked downstairs carrying
 Amy's Valentine gifts between them. "Don't tell me Eldridge had a problem with
 your story again?"

 "Well, I guess he did," said Amy between gritted teeth, "seeing as how he just
 pulled it."

 "Oh, I'm real sorry."

 "Tawnia, will you answer me a question? And I want the truth."

 "Sure."

 "You know you're the only one who I've really talked to about this...working
 with the A-Team and everything. Elaine means well, but she's got a bigger
 mouth than my sister. And do you think I'm wasting my time helping friends?
 Should I be helping myself - getting a foot inside the door?"

 The other girl's brows puckered. "I'm not sure," she finally decided to say.

 "Neither am I."

 "But Amy, I know it's something you have to decide. You have to kind of listen
 to your heart, you know? You do what you feel's right, and everything works
 out."

 "Thanks for the vote of confidence!" said Amy.

 They both laughed a little, ironically, as they crossed the lobby and stepped
 outside. The afternoon was heavy and humid, but the breeze from downtown LA
 was still pleasant after the recycled air of the building. Along the parking
 lot, Amy opened up her car, and they deposited the gift box and flowers on the
 back seat.

 "Now you take care, huh?" said Tawnia. "I have a couple days vacation, and
 then we'll do lunch over the weekend. Take in a movie or something?"

 "Sounds pretty good."

 "You okay?"

 "Yeah. I'm fine. I'll call you."

 Amy slid into the drivers seat, pulling the car door shut behind her. She'd
 been so optimistic about the day when she had set out that morning. It was
 hard to believe how quick her spirits seemed to have gone into a downward
 spiral. All she wanted now was to get out of here and home to a long soak in
 the bathtub.

 She played the radio while she drove, finding herself listening in to the
 country show on KCMR.

 *Some guys have all the luck,
 There's gold in everything they touch;
 But all of the work I've done
 Never did amount to much -*

 Amy had heard that song once before, and she didn't feel like hearing it again
 right now. It pulled on too many raw nerves. She tuned back to a news
 broadcast. Yep, crime and murder and world famine, that was what she needed
 right now. Make her feel there was somebody worse off than her. Somewhere.

 She had a car, a house, a paycheck; friends to talk to and places to go. But
 she was still trying to climb out of this rut she had worked herself into
 somehow. There was something missing. She couldn't look around and say, *This
 is it - this is where I want to be.* So Amy was pushing, going onwards and
 upwards looking for that lost horizon, getting tireder and more dissatisfied
 every time she took a step forward only to take another two back. She wanted
 to feel complete. Like she'd done the best and been the best and she was never
 going to be asked to be any more or any less than she was at that moment in
 time.

 She almost missed the turn off for Highway 405. *Dammit!* With feeling so
 sorry for herself, Amy had almost forgotten. She had promised to stop by the
 VA on the way home today to visit Murdock. It was something of a duty, but it
 brought a wry smile to her face for the first time since she had left work.
 The ultimate test. If Murdock couldn't make her laugh again today, then she'd
 know she was a hopeless case.

 The VA hospital in Westwood was surrounded by lawns and trees. It was a
 pleasant place, and Amy always felt faintly depressed seeing the indicators of
 it's true function; the locks on the doors inside, the subtle yet perpetual
 tension of the staff who were employed prepared to not only nurse but
 physically restrain if necessary.

 "I'm visiting," she said at the desk, "Captain HM Murdock?" and as she was
 escorted down the hall past the line of rooms all the same, Amy thought,
 *Murdock shouldn't be in this place. He doesn't belong here.*

 Murdock seemed content at the VA. To an extent, he did appear to think of it
 as home. There was always that slight look of relief when he returned after a
 mission. But she had the feeling that it stemmed from fear; a fear of the
 outside world. The VA was safe, Murdock's safe place where he didn't have to
 take responsibilities, or make decisions, a place where there was only now,
 and the moment after. Amy often wondered what it would take to make him want
 more for himself than books and foul shot practice and Woody Woodpecker
 cartoons, make him want to face the world again with all it's problems and all
 it's joys and embrace them as his own.

 Murdock was standing looking out of the window, but as Amy entered, he turned
 around and gave her a big smile.

 "Hey, muchacha! How you doing?"

 "Like I've been run down by a trailer truck."

 She told Murdock about the story being replaced while he made sympathetic
 noises. He and the rest of the guys had all known how high Amy had pinned her
 hopes on this. Okay, her eye for a scoop got her into trouble occasionally,
 but Amy had the feeling that she was being taken seriously now, even by
 Hannibal. If only the world of journalism shared his opinions.

 "Sometimes I think I should just do exactly what Eldridge says - forget it.
 Move back down the coast. Get married. Work in a grocery store."

 Murdock looked at her pensively. "You been saying things like that a while
 now. And it's starting to sound like you mean it."

 "Maybe I do." Amy picked up a discarded magazine and fanned herself with it.
 "God, it's so stuffy in here. Must be the rain coming."

 "Air conditioner's down," Murdock said. He looked thoughtful for a moment or
 two, then picked up his jacket. "You want to come take a walk?"

 "Sure." Amy rose, grateful for any chance to get outside and ease the headache
 that was starting to press into her skull like some giant finger at work.

 "And smile! You don't smile around these parts," he added, "and they think you
 haven't taken your medication!"

 Despite the clouds, the VA grounds weren't short of patients out for fresh
 air, and the two of them wandered among the trees inconspicuously. Amy felt
 the tension of the day starting to lift as she and Murdock swapped gossip and
 jokes. Whether it was because being away from everyday routine made him
 refreshing, she didn't know, but even when her spirits were rock-bottom, they
 always lifted in his unpretentiousness and warmth. They talked about Murdock's
 therapy some. Dr. Richter was away on an extended vacation, and he was seeing
 a doctor in the mean time who wasn't much older than himself, and who had also
 seen service in Vietnam alongside the medical corps.

 "I'll be glad when Richter's back," Murdock admitted. "Him and me - well, we
 walked through a lot of dark tunnels together. I think he knows me better than
 I know myself. But, you know, it's good to just spit tobacco with your own
 generation sometimes."

 "Heyes understands, too. He knows what all you guys here went through."

 "Yeah, that's about the bottom line of it. Oh, sure, he wasn't a Green Beret
 or nothing. But he was there. He *knows*. He spoke to the guys when they
 brought 'em in..." Murdock gave a visible shiver, then smiled a little. "It
 gets heavy, sometimes, the stuff we have to work through. That's why I'm
 always glad to see you at the end of it."

 "Well, I'm glad to see you too."

 Murdock hesitated a minute. Then he delved in his pocket. "Here. Think I got a
 bubblegum left. Want it? Only don't throw the wrapper away!" he added, handing
 her the packet.

 "Why?"

 "Them gum people’s been running a competition. You can win a new four-wheel
 drive...or a vacation in Honolulu...or a whole bunch of neat stuff. Me, I’m
 going for the free triple fudge sundae voucher! It's printed right there on
 the inside if it's you."

 Holding the gum in the palm of her hand, she carefully un-scrunched the paper,
 smoothing out the creases. He was right, there was something there. But it
 wasn't a 'Winner' print. There in small handwritten letters was the question,
 ‘Amy - be my Valentine?’

 Amy stared at the words for a long time. Then she lifted her head and looked
 at Murdock. He smiled, but looked wary, obviously quite prepared for her to
 either laugh or break his jaw.

 Managing to summon up her voice, she asked, "You? It's you who's been having
 all that stuff delivered today...the card, the flowers..?"

 "You didn't like 'em?"

 "No! I mean yes! I mean...yes, I liked them a lot." She cleared her throat.
 "Did you mean it?"

 "Yes," he answered earnestly. "Every word."

 "I just never had any idea. That you felt that way."

 "Well, neither did I. Least not 'til you was in the clutches of the
 Godfather." Murdock's soft brown eyes met hers. "I thought I was gonna lose
 you, and I wouldn't even be there to say goodbye. I guess that was when I
 knew. Amy, we spent a lot of time together over the last couple months. We got
 to know each other pretty well, and I'm not sure, but sometimes you seem like
 you're lonely. I know I am. Is it such a bad idea, you and me?"

 For the first time since she'd met him here at the VA, Amy looked at Murdock,
 really looked at him. He was actually rather handsome, in a down home kind of
 way. He was fun, he was good-hearted. He was her friend. He was the craziest
 looking Prince Charming she'd ever seen, but something inside was telling her
 to grab him now, and not let go. When all was said and done, she could do a
 lot worse than HM Murdock.

 *I could get to love him very much* Amy thought, and was suddenly amazed by
 the clarity of it. Her and Murdock. Simple. Perfect. Yin and Yang; both
 filling the empty place in each other.

 The song that had been playing in the car while she was driving down. Amy
 remembered the other lyrics now.

 *Some guys have all the money,
 Fame, and fortune we all dream of
 I thank the stars above me
 That I've got you, and that's enough
 Some guys have all the love...*

 "No," she said, "I think it's the best idea I've ever heard."

 Murdock gazed down into her eyes.

 "Well," he said thoughtfully, "Seeing as how you're my Valentine and
 everything, I guess I ought to kiss you now."

 He didn't land quite squarely on her lips the first time; Amy quickly
 corrected that. Murdock tasted warm, sweet and musky at the same time, and she
 felt a joyful leap inside. She liked it, liked him. She wanted this
 partnership to work more than any other she'd had in her life.

 Amy didn't move when the rain started, letting the heavens open and plaster
 her clothes to her like a sodden second skin. All that she was aware of was
 Murdock and how very good it felt in his arms. Then the world came back with a
 jolt as his mouth slowly and gently released hers, and she was standing there,
 caught like a statue in the cloudburst, clutching a soggy gum wrapper in her
 hand and trying to recover from being well and truly kissed by the man who
 loved her.

 The rain dripped off Murdock's hat as he said, "I don't wanna be alone
 anymore...and I care for you. Do you reckon you could get to care for me? Even
 a little?"

 Amy could only nod her head. She felt a raindrop trickle down the side of her
 nose, or maybe it was a tear. Murdock touched it away with the tip of his
 finger.

 "I have to ask you to wait for a proper relationship, you know that. 'Til I
 can get straightened out, enough to get out of the VA, at least. I never
 really had a reason to *want* to get out before, only now I do, and I want to
 try. But you're gonna have to be patient with me."

 "I will be."

 "Can you wait for me?"

 "I'm not going anywhere," answered Amy.

 She wasn't going anywhere. And for the first time since she could remember, it
 didn't matter at all. Murdock held out his hand, and Amy linked her fingers
 with his. Together, contented in one another's touch, they wandered back
 towards the hospital.


 FIN