The sound of disaster waiting to strike sounded a lot like a Christmas carol, Face thought. He and Hannibal were just leaving the safe house to make a supply run, when they heard a familiar tenor voice raised joyfully in song.
"Oh, Christmas van! Oh, Christmas van!
Alle Fahrzeuge die meisten lovely!
Oh, Christmas van! Oh, Christmas van!
Alle Fahrzeuge die meisten lovely!"
Face froze, one hand still reaching to put the key into the lock, while his startled brain quickly translated the cheerful mishmash of German and English. The resulting realization of what must be taking place out in the driveway made him straighten abruptly, to stare at his colonel in apprehension. Hannibal had been caught in mid-light, match lit and forgotten half way to the ever present cigar. The older man returned Face's shocked look with sharp grey eyes as the next verse graced the air.
"Oh, Christmas van! Oh, Christmas van!
Mit starken Reifen drehen!
Oh, Christmas van! Oh, Christmas van!
Wie treu ist ihre Motor!"
Face took a deep breath and carefully placed the house keys in his pocket. "I wonder how far he's gotten…"
"Let's find out." Hannibal was already moving, rounding the house swiftly, only to stop dead at the sight in the driveway. Face joined him, caught between human curiosity and the prudent desire to be far, far away from the fall out. Tahiti, perhaps.
Dusk came early on December 24th, here in the quiet suburbs of Springfield; the snug little homes lining the block had already turned on their modest Christmas decor to fill the street with cheer. But, there was nothing modest about the display confronting Face and Hannibal. The familiar form of B.A.'s van was completely smothered under the weight of full Christmas frenzy. Multicolored paper chains twined through the spoilers on the roof and draped elegantly down the sides. Evergreen garlands and holly branches bloomed across the grill. Strings of flashing lights, in white and red, circled each tire and window. And, as a final delicate touch, Face could see a sprig of mistletoe was tied with a red velvet ribbon to the rear view mirror.
The author of this holiday vision was just stepping back to admire the full view, finishing his carol with an exuberant warble.
"Die Hoffnung und Beständigkeit
Gibt Trost und kraft zu jeder zeit!
Oh, Christmas van! Oh, Christmas van!
Du Kannst mir sehr gefallen!"
Murdock hung onto the last note lovingly, before whipping around to greet his comrades, the fuzzy white ball at the end of his over-large Santa hat swinging wildly. "Hi, fellas! You're just in time to give Baby a chorus! Doesn't she look great?"
"Uh," Face opined, his verbal skills lost somewhere in the dazzling display. The pulsing pattern of lights around the tires gave the illusion of movement, he realized. The van was at full throttle while perfectly still. The whole composition was a presentation of beauty and power and should have been lauded as a work of art, but Face couldn't seem to push his imagination past the inevitable conclusion.
"Very festive, captain," Hannibal said with admirable calm. He finally finished lighting his cigar, movements easy, drawing the process out, stalling for time to consider all angles of this new situation. "I assume B.A. hasn't seen your new… creation, yet?" He shook out the match, waiting for the expected answer.
"Nope! I wanted it to be a surprise!" Murdock was bouncing on his toes in time with the lights, overjoyed to share his pleasure with two of his favorite people. Face, despite his apprehension, couldn't help but smile affectionately at his pilot's shining eyes and overall happy glow. It might even be worth it, the ranting and violence from the van's owner, just to have this one jubilant moment. And, Face admitted to himself, there was a sadistic streak in him that couldn't wait to see the look on B.A.'s face…
"Well, I got the last bit on! I'm gonna call out the big guy, now" Murdock said cheerily, trotting toward the door. And, Face suddenly changed his mind; he didn't want this moment ruined by shouting and anger. He didn't want to see Murdock's eyes suddenly filled with confusion and hurt. "Hey,!" he called quickly, halting his friend mid-bounce. "Maybe we should take a picture first. You know, as a memento," he improvised. At least there would be something to show after B.A. ripped the decorations down and stomped them underfoot. And, as Murdock hesitated, impatient, Face added, "I'm sure Mrs. Baracus would love to see it, and we can't drive it to her place like that." He knew his buddy loved B.A.'s mom almost to the point of worship; invoking her name guaranteed cooperation.
"Oh," Murdock said thoughtfully, "that's a good idea, Faceman." Face was able to bask in the reward of Hannibal's proud smile…. at least for a moment, before Murdock beamed and said, "Bosco can pose with us! Mrs. B will love it!" He threw open the front door, ignoring the imploring shouts from his best friend, to call inside, "Hey, B.A.! Come take a look!"
Hannibal took one last puff on his cigar, before laying it carefully on the brick sidewalk, and arranging himself in a ready pose. Face moved back and to the left of his colonel, giving the older man room to maneuver and putting himself in a position to run interference in almost any direction. It was a choreography born of long practice; B.A.'s legendary temper and Murdock's unpredictable nature made such preparation necessary. Face just hoped some nosey neighbor didn't decide to call the cops.
As Bosco's imposing form filled the doorway, Murdock ran excitedly back to the van and spread his arms wide. "Ta-da!" he crowed, waving hands showcasing the full spectacle. His smile was brighter than the pulsing lights, and Face braced himself…
B.A. stared silently for what seemed like a full minute to Face's nerve-wracked imagination. Then, he nodded firmly. "Looks good, Crazy. Didn't think you'd get it done so soon."
"I worked on it all afternoon!" Murdock returned with some exasperation, while Face gaped like a (handsome) fish, and Hannibal's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Could'a done the Sistine Chapel in that time! At least, one of the pillars," he added as an afterthought. He seemed distracted suddenly, by the expressions worn by his other team mates, as B.A. came down to inspect his van's new look. "Are you fellas okay? You look a mite gobsmacked."
Face shook the ringing out of his ears and stared at Hannibal, who was in turn staring at B.A. The corporal lifted a paper chain with one gentle finger, before moving to the back of the van where silver strands of tinsel fluttered in a soft breeze. "Just a little surprised, captain," Hannibal murmured. "Decorating the van seems a bit… fanciful for B.A."
Murdock blinked in surprise. "It was his idea!" And, as three sets of eyes fixed on him, "Well, no, really it was my idea, but B.A. encouraged it." He looked at Face and Hannibal with sudden understanding. "You didn't think I'd do this without his permission, did you?" He snorted, as their expressions told him his answer. "Aw, hell, now. I'm nuts, sure, but I ain't suicidal!"
"So, why did you let him do it?" Hannibal and B.A. were watching Face and Murdock frolic in the early night, the two young men chasing each other around the van while shouting competing Christmas songs, with lyrics made up by themselves. They were making enough noise to wake the neighborhood, but Hannibal didn't have the heart to stop them. The Team would be leaving the safe house first thing in the morning to make the rendezvous with Mrs. Baracus for a quick, and hopefully safe, reunion. It had been over a year, now, since mother and son had seen each other, and they were determined that MP's and cops would not interfere with Christmas this year. B.A. had been particularly short tempered lately, which made his approval for van modification even more surprising. The clean up alone would normally have B.A. roaring with rage.
But, here in the dark, the corporal watched the foolish antics of his teammates with something that might have been a smile on his full mouth. His eyes lingered on Murdock's bright face and laughing eyes, as he said, "Fool was looking for trouble this afternoon. Seemed like a way to keep him on a tight leash." He glanced at his colonel, to see if that would be enough explanation, but then sighed in defeat at the warm, knowing gleam in those silver-blue eyes. "It's Christmas, and we couldn't get a tree," he admitted quietly. "I mean, look at him, man. Fool was…" He lost the thought as Murdock turned to smile at them, shining in the dark. And, the something on B.A.'s mouth moved into a real smile, lighting the way back.
"It's Christmas."