Disclaimer: no recognizable characters are mine. The A-Team is a combo of TV!verse and movie!verse, and not even I can totally tell which is which. Written for crack purposes only, and to get warring fractions out of my head.

Note: I've written a lot of fandoms. Repeat: A LOT. So what happens when they all get kind of mashed together? This ridiculousness. Oh, and honestly, there is one universe here I've never written for, but it was too perfect not to include.

Enjoy (?)

You Pesky Kids!

Living with three other men could get tiresome. Whether it was personality clashes, petty annoyances, or just plain needing to get away from a certain someone(s) because 24/7 got to be too much, there were occasions when one of them called a time out.

They didn't necessarily all go their separate ways when they were taking a break. Even if Hannibal and B.A. wandered off alone, usually Face and Murdock stuck together.

Money makes the world go round. However, even if the infamous A-Team wasn't a quartet at the moment—they had orders to meet up again, eventually, there was always a plan—the members still needed something to live on.

A job was a job, in the end.

Murdock and Face got a short term, free-lance gig. It seemed innocuous enough: just some basic investigating work. Child's play, comparatively, especially when they were told they weren't allowed any guns. No weapons at all, and no lock picks. And it was at a weird location—an abandoned fairground? But whatever.

The group was nice, they provided the food, and they travelled by van. So it sort of felt familiar.

But that dog.

No one had said anything about a dog originally, and Murdock fell in love immediately. The first night, after it was decided the best possible and only course of action was to split up, the two of them camped out in the abandoned stables of the abandoned fairgrounds to watch and wait for whatever was haunting this place.

Murdock forwent his assignment and whispered to Face, "I want that dog, Facey! I need that dog!"

"I don't think Shaggy's going to let you take his dog, buddy," Face replied. He wished he'd insisted on bringing a pair of night-vision binoculars. Those weren't weapons. And they'd be a heck of a lot more helpful than the full moon overhead to see by. "Besides, you've got Billy. What's he gonna think if you just start bringing home other dogs?"

Murdock gave him a look like Face was the crazy one for not understanding. "Billy doesn't talk, Face."

"That dog doesn't talk either. It makes a bunch of tortured half-words. And it's a wimp. It could barely walk through this place without jumping into Shaggy's arms. How would it even survive with our lifestyle? Bombs and cars flipping and bullets ricocheting everywhere—it'd prob'ly die of a heart attack or something."

"Hmph," Murdock answered, with the obvious tone of a differing opinion.

Face gave up trying to keep a look out. Unless someone was going to walk by covered in glow-in-the-dark paint, it was too dark to see anything. He rolled onto his back.

"What do you think about the red-head? Daphne."

Murdock groaned. Face didn't think that was fair; he didn't groan when Murdock brought up his personal obsession.

"I think you'd better keep it in your pants."

"Hmph," he replied, with as much inflection in his voice as Murdock had previously.

When the two called Hannibal and told him they wanted to meet up again earlier than planned, Hannibal didn't say anything.

When they limped into the hotel room, he couldn't not say anything.

"What happened to you?"

B.A. just took a look at them and guffawed.

"Shut up, B.A.!" Murdock whimpered, clutching at his chest dramatically. "My heart's been broken! It was love at first sight, and then my dreams were snatched away by a hippy with an eating disorder and thrown in the garbage disposal of life! I'll never love again! Now I only have Billy to comfort me, and he doesn't talk!"

Hannibal thought it best not to try and puzzle out the pilot's impassioned speech. He turned to Face and made a show of studying the huge black eye no amount of concealer was able to cover.

"And what about you?" he asked the conman, with exaggerated politeness.

"I never knew a guy in an ascot could punch so hard," Face replied dejectedly.

B.A. laughed and laughed.