Work Text:
Mac has Murdoc pressed against the wall, full-body contact because he knows that Swiss Army Knife isn't a threat to someone with Murdoc's training and general lack of self-preservation.
The point of the tiny but ruthlessly sharp blade is right against the carotid, they're glaring at each other intensely, breathing hard with the effort of combat, and then...
"For fucks sake, Murdoc, is that what I think it is?"
Murdoc's voice is slightly strained, but he still lets out a manic little giggle.
"If it makes you feel any better, I do actually also have a gun in my pocket."