Dude, if I owned the A-Team, I'd be on an extended vacation somewhere in Europe.
Odds and Ends
Murdock impatiently hums the Downeaster Alexa under his breath as his fingers restlessly tap out the beat on the worn upholstery of the ancient van; Billy whines softly from his spot on the floor, as anxious as he.
"'S ok, bud." He whispers, patting the dog on the head, "Almost there." If his team heard him, they gave no indication; they are all too tired and too used to their pilot's mumblings to care. "There are giants out there in the canyons…" he sings gently as Face's snore fills the vehicle, "…and a good captain can't fall asleep…"
"Murdock!" B.A. snaps from behind the wheel; the captain jumps slightly, eyes wide.
"Sorry, Bosco." He replies, a sheepish, twitchy smile on his lips; Hannibal twists around in the passenger seat to face him, deep, permanent worry lines that hadn't been there seven months ago eerily illuminated by the glowing green dashboard.
"And you're sure no one's keeping tabs on her, right, Murdock?" the colonel asks again; Murdock nods enthusiastically.
"Yes, sir, no one we know knows who she is, sir." He replies brightly; Hannibal nods, chewing thoughtfully on his cigar, and turns around; Murdock knows the Bossman doesn't like taking such a risk, but at the moment they have no other options; they need a hideout, someplace to lay low, until they can figure out a plan. "Remember, B.A., it's 45 East Street." The mountainous man snorts.
"I know, fool, you've been tellin' me that since we started drivin'. Now shut yo trap." Murdock simply smiles his crazy little smile and goes back to staring at the passing corn fields; they're in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but the stars and the occasional farm house as witnesses to their journey.
He likes it like this; the quiet, the dark, with his team around him like a comforting blanket, a shield against the thing in his brain that's not supposed to be there, the part that makes him crazy. When he's tiptoeing around the insanity, when it's this close to burying him so deep he can't be sure who he is anymore, he thinks about moments like these; he pours all of his focus and energy into remembering B.A.'s scary, but oddly fond threats of dismemberment after he's annoyed him for too long, the way Face laughs after he's pulled off a particularly hard con, how, back in Mexico, Hannibal put his complete faith into the pilot, even when everyone told him not too, even when Murdock was unsure of himself, the way Shannon sees him, only him, and not the gleam in his eye that the other thing put there.
"…they say these waters aren't what they used to be, but I've got people back on land who count…"
"Fool, do I have to break yo jaw to get you to shut up?"
"Sorry, Bosco." Murdock mimes zipping his lips shut and tosses the key out the window; Billy, yearning for something to chase after being cooped up in the van for so long, whines again.
"I know, boy." He scratches the poor dog behind his ears, "Don't you worry; we'll be home soon and then you can run around as much as you want."
The dog barks in understanding and rests his head on his paws with a quiet sigh; Murdock smiles and whispers that magic phrase again, to himself this time, and holds it close like a well-kept secret: "We'll be home soon."
Ok, usually I'm not into the whole get-down-on-your-knees-and-beg-like-your-life-depends-on-it thing buuutttt...*dramatically falls to the ground* please, please pretty pretty please with a triple chocolate fudge brownie on top, review!