Title: Light Up the Sky
Author: Takada Saiko
A/N: I don't own. Sadly. Do you know how amazing it'd be if I did? Well, I wanted to do a bit for the Fourth of July, and who better than the A-Team? Somehow the movie-verse was what popped into my head for it. Enjoy, and happy birthday to our lovely country!
He'd been down for two days, and that within itself was an oddity. BA had been the first to verbally note it, but Face was sure that Hannibal had noticed before. He noticed everything. Not that it was hard to miss the strange silence, the lack of odd aromas wafting up from the grill, or a rather dejected looking Murdock. Even now he sat with his shoulders slumped and his cap pulled down over his expressive eyes. His entire posture screamed that something was wrong… and not the usual fun and goofy sort of wrong.
"He won't talk to you, Hannibal," Face warned as the elder man passed by him. "I already tried to get it out of him, and he's locked down tight. Even BA tried."
"But I haven't tried," the colonel responded with a smirk and moved past the conman. He approached Murdock quietly, but not so quietly that he wouldn't have heard him on any normal day. Almost in one motion he pulled a chair up and sat in it, not waiting for an invitation. "Evening, Murdock."
The pilot jumped as if a gun had just gone off next to his ear. He turned wide, slightly confused eyes towards Hannibal. His lips parted momentarily, as if he might be about to say something, and then closed again, as he returned his gaze to the vast amounts of nothing that was the desert. A sigh was the only sound that came from him.
Hannibal took a cigar from his pocket and slowly lit it, eyes never leaving the younger man. "I've noticed, Captain, that you've been a bit off your game the last couple of days. We have a mission coming up tomorrow, you know." He puffed for a moment, awaiting a response, and when it did not come, a hint of a frown tugged at his lips. "Murdock?"
"Yes sir?" His voice was gravely sounding since he hadn't used it in nearing forty-eight hours.
"I was speaking to you, son."
"Sorry, Colonel."
Hannibal eyed him carefully for a moment. "I said that you've been a bit off your game, haven't you?"
A grin – forced and only an shadow of its usual self – could barely be seen on his lips. "Ah, Hannibal, I'm always off-"
"No, you've just got your own," his commanding officer answered as he puffed away on his cigar. "What's going on?"
"It's nothin'," Murdock drawled, turning his vague attention back to the sand dunes. Look. More sand. How exciting.
"Bull shit." This caught the pilot's attention and Hannibal was now looking directly at him. His eyes were stern and unyielding. "Don't even try that on me, Captain. What's going on?"
Murdock sighed and turned his eyes up to the twilight sky. "We got leave last Fourth…"
"So what the hell is going on?" Face demanded as he trudged after his boss. Hannibal had come to where he and BA had made due without their usual cook and were munching on some semi-edible MREs before finding what sort of trouble they could before going to sleep. After all, they had a big mission first thing in the morning. Knowing Hannibal, they'd be up before the sun.
"Just wait," Hannibal answered with a knowing smirk.
"Didja find out what's wrong with Murdock?" BA asked in his not-that-I-really-care-about-that-fool voice.
A curt nod was their only response and the two men stared at each other in disbelief as Hannibal tapped said pilot on the shoulder and motioned for him to join their party. Murdock did so without a word and three very confused men followed a perfectly satisfied colonel into a jeep and away from the camp.
The thought crossed minds that maybe they were beginning their mission early and just had missed the memo, but the jeep stopped suddenly in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. After the dust had settled, Hannibal piled out. "BA, grab those boxes there in the back, would you?"
BA grunted a response and leaned to get the cargo. He set it down where directed and pulled a small flashlight out to see just what it was in the darkened Iraqi night. A grin spread across his face and reached his eyes even in the dark. "Ah, hell yeah, Hannibal!" he cheered.
"Flares?" Face questioned as he leaned over to the box. He turned to look at Hannibal. "What the…?"
"Flares?" Everyone turned to Murdock. His eyes stared widely at the box and he broke into a wide grin and the excitement was visible. A child on Christmas morning couldn't have been happier. "Fireworks!"
Blank stares met him.
"Ah, c'mon, guys! It's the Fourth of July! Thanks Hannibal!" He was bouncing now, all the pent up energy that had been locked away the two days of his depression was suddenly released like water from a floodgate. He was at the box, gathering flares in his thin arms and setting them up as the rest of the A-Team merely watched. The smile never left his face as he glanced back and got an affirmative nod to set them off. They shot up, exploding brilliantly into the air and lighting up the night sky.
"Happy Independence day, Murdock," Hannibal said with a smile, clasping the younger man on the shoulder. He loved it when a plan came together.
