Work Text:
Cravings
by Closetfan
It wasn't often that Face craved a milkshake, but it had been happening with more frequency of late. But not just any ordinary milkshake. Oh, no.
A chocolate milkshake. Thick and creamy, made with old fashioned ice cream - the kind where you could see the flecks of vanilla - and sinfully rich chocolate syrup. Whipped cream. Sprinkles, even. The kind of milkshake that makes one feel decadent. Even a little guilty.
He looked across the van at Murdock, who met his gaze with a smile.
Face shifted uncomfortably.
Oh, yeah. He sure could go for a milkshake right about now.
end