Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, I'm just having fun with it.

Author's Note: Well, hello guys and girls, this is my first foray into the A-Team universe and I hope that you'll like my little story (I'd almost call it a drabble, really, only that it's too long for that) :-) Please have fun and let me know if I've got something wrong. Also, this is not beta-ed since it's my first attempt at writing in almost 4 months. I just wanted to know if I "still have it" *g*

Oh, and by the way, this is just a small something from B.A.s point of view. Slash if you squint, so nothing definite here, although, of course, my imagination is running wild. :-)

Dynamics

Part I

Observations

It was calm now, and the fire was flickering gently. Three long sticks with marshmallows stood like thin metal soldiers and the sweet smell calmed B.A.'s agitated nerves. The chairs next to him were empty; Hannibal and Face had gone to get more beer and Murdock wasn't yet back from his pilot colleagues. They did their own things when they had the time to come down after a mission but always met for meals and a bit of lazing around together.

The calm was disturbed by Pike and his men strolling through the camp, making snide comments. B.A. couldn't stand him and his frat boy entourage but then again, nobody could. Pike was one of those guys who made your hair stand on end and imagine the worst. Guys of his ilk regularly gave the army a bad name because they were aggressive, bad-mannered, too damn cocky for their own good and, unfortunately, also very good at what they were doing. It was a dangerous combination, all wrapped up in a neat package made of muscle and bad intentions.

"Hey, Baracus, have the lover boys left you all alone?" Pike crowed from afar.

B.A. only rolled his eyes and shook his head. Best to ignore the idiot before he was forced to waste a bullet on him.

"Don't worry, I bet they won't take long! With such a handsome lover Smith will be finished in no time! I know I would!" He grabbed his crotch and made a suggestive move.

"Shut your trap, you damn fag asshole!" hollered a ranger B.A. didn't know.

"I'll see you, Baracus!"

Pike's men laughed and then staggered off to cause mayhem where it was more appreciated. The sounds of a hearty scuffle were actually calming, especially when the general himself entered the fray just five minutes later and shouted the whole bloody group down, handing out KP and loo duty left and right. Pike actually tried to drag B.A. into the whole mess, of course without success.

Why everybody thought that B.A. was a bit slow on the uptake he'd never know. Perhaps it was just his calm, reticent character that left many people wondering what he was really thinking. It was more probable though that they thought that a guy with upper arms like tree trunks couldn't possibly be in possession of a brain that was bigger than a pea.

Stupid fools.

The truth was that he noticed a great number of things going on around him. Things that his fellow comrades thought they hid so well. As if it was possible in such a close community to hide panic attacks after missions gone wrong, or aggression, or homesickness and loneliness.

Fools.

Most of the guys in camp didn't understand that entering the army and going to war inevitably changed your life. It changed everything. Some guys went from goody-two-shoes to kick-ass-bad-soldier and others did a one-eighty the other way around. It changed your religion – guys who believed in God sometimes lost faith, while others found their way to Him, and it changed your outlook on life in general and what you perceived as the meaning of life.

But most important of all, it made quite a lot of guys question their sexuality, which was never a good thing in a mostly guy-inhabited camp. Brawls were common when a mission took too long and they were too far from the next city, and more often than not conversation around here consisted of insults and aggressive jeering because someone couldn't handle a bout of inappropriate arousal. B.A. also knew about not-so-clandestine meetings behind certain tents and, sadly, the odd attack on the weaker members of the camp. Mostly they went after the greenies, the youngsters, but when frustration ran high even higher-ranking rangers weren't completely safe.

It was enough to make B.A. really want to commit a crime or three. If one entered the army one just knew that sex with women could be a luxury, something that was a reward for surviving a mission. One just knew that there could and would be long periods of time when there would ne nothing, nothing at all in the way of creature comfort. If one entered the army one knew that there would be all kinds of guys, the good, the bad, the straight and the queer. It was a huge melting pot and damnit, if the fools couldn't handle that fact they should stay the hell away!

"Hey Bosco, everything alright?" Murdock jumped over the chair next to B.A. and sat down.

B.A. sighed deeply and ran his hand over his Mohawk. "Yeah, I guess so. Just wondering how Kepple is doin'."

The pilot hummed quietly. Kepple was the latest victim of a brawl that had clearly started because of sexual frustration. Thankfully nothing had happened besides a busted rib and wounded male pride for all involved rangers.

"Makes my skin crawl," B.A. continued. "If they wan' it so bad they should put a damn ad up, would make everything easier. Damn the DADT."

Murdock eyed him thoughtfully. "They didn't mean it. They just wanted to let off steam." He took a marshmallow stick and held the already dripping thing into the fire. "Yeah, baby, burn! Burn!"

B.A. rolled his eyes for the second time that night. "It's not that. A minute ago Pike came here and talked nonsense about Face and Hannibal. Guys like him are the real creeps. No' goin' up front bu' attacking from behind. Bastards."

"Yeah …" Murdock rescued his blackened, gooey marshmallow, borrowed the HP sauce from B.A. and dripped a generous amount over it. "Facey should watch his back."

B.A. sighed. So Murdock had seen it too, that creep's looks in Face's direction. He would make sure to keep an eye on Pike – there could be nothing worse than being subjected to his attentions.

"Where are they, by the way?" Murdock asked.

"Gone to get more beer," B.A. grumbled. "Had Pike yapping, naturally."

"Naturally." Goo dribbled all over Murdock's skin and he hurried to catch his treat with his tongue.

B.A. looked away.

As far as evenings with the fool went it was agreeable but he still sighed in relief when Hannibal and Face finally returned. Both carried three six-packs of chilled beer and a smug grin. Scamming things out from others was their favourite pastime when they weren't blowing things up.

Honestly, why they just didn't go that last step was beyond him. A blind man could see how much they relied on each other. The way Hannibal always cleaned up after Peck's adventures was more than just concern for their team. And that someone like Face didn't manage to find another woman after that Sosa cow was just surreal. Instead he hung around Hannibal like a puppy that couldn't be shooed off.

Fact was that Face didn't want another woman. Sosa had broken Face's sorry excuse for a heart three years ago and left it to Hannibal to pick up the pieces. B.A. wasn't stupid, he had seen what they meant to each other right away. And now, nine years later, he was getting impatient with them. They were too close for even a brotherly relationship but too careless to be lovers. The tension was driving him up the wall because their bantering could bend a general grant tree if the mood took them.

Murdock was babbling, updating them on the latest camp fight and handing out HP sauce. His next charge of marshmallows made all of them grin; ten sticky white balls on one thin stick were a bit much.

When everything was discussed, they fell into a comfortable silence. Hannibal, Face and Murdock busied themselves with cooking sausages and roasting bread over the fire while B.A. watched them. Sosa's unexpected visit earlier that day had left its mark on Face. Now, when he wasn't smiling, he looked pensive and a bit sad. Hannibal's arm around his shoulders spoke volumes. Sosa might be gone from Face's life, but her rejection still smarted.

Shaking his head, B.A. admitted that he would probably be the same. Loving someone and then being thrown away could destroy stronger men, and Face was a tough bastard. A tough, soppy bastard who had misguided his affections even before Sosa came along. The woman hadn't stood a chance, in the end, and perhaps it was better this way. Their team couldn't afford outsiders butting in, perverse as it sounded. Not that Hannibal's clean-ups after Face's escapades were good per se, but at least they were contingency-plans they could handle.

Still, it would be a great relief if Face would just get over his women-infested pride and tell Hannibal what he fucking wanted from him. Even if the Colonel didn't feel the same (which B.A. doubted) it would clear the air between them and they could all act normal again. Or as normal as army life around guys could be. For all that B.A. cared the DADT could go and fuck itself, because when it came to a guy covering his back or saving his life he couldn't care less which way he swung. All that counted was a steady aim and cool head on their shoulders. And that they didn't hit on him, because he liked women, thank you very much.

It was such a pity that most of the dickheads here didn't quite see it that way. They freaked at the first sign of gayness, even if it came from frustration and not natural inclination. How they managed to survive in close quarters was a mystery to him. It was bad enough that he shared a tent with Murdock. The guy was merely bearable on good days, which meant that he got more on B.A.s nerves than not. He also had a propensity for coming too close, especially at night when it was freaking cold in the desert. It was enough to drive a ranger to distraction, really. He didn't need any other shit on top of that.

"We should call it a night," Hannibal said and pulled B.A. out of his musings. "We need to be well rested, understood?"

They all murmured their assent and quickly packed their things away. B.A. took his time dousing the fire. Face and Hannibal worked together effortlessly, never once falling out of a choreography that only they understood. It bespoke of the time they had spent together, the trust they shared as comrades in arms, and as friends.

"Aw, hell," he grumbled and stood up.

"What's up, Bosco?" Murdock fell into step beside him and grinned. "Don't like being all cuddly with the Bossman and Facey?"

"Not my cup of tea," B.A. growled. Somehow it came as no surprise that Murdock knew exactly what was going on. The fool was crazy, not blind or deaf or stupid. Otherwise he wouldn't have made it to a freakin' captain.

"I wish they would drink theirs," Murdock commented idly. He stretched both arms out and made a wheeee-sound. "Hannibal is no coward, but in this …"

"Would make things awkward for a while," B.A. agreed. "But it's better than this waiting for them to get it."

Murdock giggled. "Wheee! Say, B.A., can I come cuddling tonight? It's getting mighty cold, big guy."

"No, man, why don't you get a space heater?"

"I have you," Murdock shrugged. "Besides, the anti-fag-brigades are hogging them. Selfish bastards."

Despite himself, B.A. had to laugh. "Yeah."

"So, can I?"

"Only if it's below ten degrees."

Murdock beamed.

"And no funny stuff, you hear me? I ain't Face or Hannibal."

"Aw, cool down, big guy. There's no funny stuff between them. Just lurrrve!" Grinning, Murdock formed a heart with his fingers. "There's a difference, you know."

"Not between those two, there isn't," B.A. grumbled.

They made it into their tent undisturbed, and when the thermometer fell below minus ten degrees B.A. only put up a minimal fuss when Murdock came over to share blankets and body heat. There were worse things in the world.

He could have an unbidden erection with the fool pilot's muscular body pressed to his back. Thankfully he wasn't that far gone.

Yet.

FIN