Standard disclaimer: no recognizable characters are mine. Drat.

Note: I apologize that I'm all over the place with this story arc. No matter what I may want, my muse doesn't operate in a linear fashion. So, to make it easier for everyone and anyone who's been so very, very kind as to read these, I've put a list of the order these A-Team stories ought to go on my profile page. It's for reference (yours), and for sanity (mine). I of course appreciate and adore all of you! :)

xooxxo

Enjoy!

Angel asked often enough, even after he repeatedly turned down her invitations. It wasn't ever his scene. Even if he did have to put up with it occasionally for a job, he never enjoyed it.

He didn't like alcohol, and someone always wanted to pick a fight. He didn't need to go looking for something like that on his off time, when fights were picked all through his professional life.

He was glad she continued to go, however, even through his refusals.

She apparently had a regular place and night to go, because every time they were in town she went. Occasionally if there was enough notice and the team was afforded a small break from work, Murdock and Face accompanied her.

B.A. figured Face went because it seemed to be his natural habitat, and Murdock because the fool was attracted to bright shiny things like a damn crow.

They always came back to her place laughing and joking, and maybe a little bit drunk. Even Face came back happy, whether or not he'd picked up a girl.

B.A. thought the whole thing over. Angel was great—she never complained they didn't have a 'normal' relationship, she understood the clandestine nature the team had to keep, and she supported him anyway she could. She gave them Intel when they needed it, and offered technical help when asked.

If there was down time between gigs and he was lucky enough to spend it at her place, she sat with him and watched football or boxing or whatever sporting event he wanted to just mindlessly relax. She listened to him rattle on about cars, vans, motorcycles, the mechanics behind blah blah blah . . . she told him once that she didn't understand any of the vehicular jargon. When he asked why she let him go on and on about it, she said that she just liked that he liked it.

B.A. shook his head and didn't understand her logic.

Angel did all of that in support, and because he turned her down once again to spend an evening watching TV or tinkering around in the van instead of going with her, he was starting to feel like a dick.

He didn't want to be one of those boyfriends. So even though she'd accepted his refusal with a smile and a kiss, B.A. called after her as she made her way to the door where Murdock and Face were waiting.

"Angel, baby—wait up a minute."