A Decision Made

Early June 1983

Hannibal Smith needed a smoke. He pushed the lighter in on his "borrowed" 1979 Chevy Impala and waited impatiently for it to pop. The cigar, wedged between his teeth flattened just a little as he pressed his lips together and reconsidered his decision one more time.

It was a risk. A potentially disastrous risk. Having a doctor on hand for emergencies would give him peace of mind. Giving that doctor the wrong idea about his intentions would give him a headache.

The image of Murdock, grimacing in pain from the powder burns on his face flashed through his mind. Pressed against the back of the airplane seats, blind and disoriented until Face had been able to disable the terrorist and get to him. They all knew fate could turn on a dime and any one of them could be injured or worse at any moment. Living with the knowledge of that possibility was a lot different than seeing it happen right in front of their eyes. Murdock had been lucky. A few days holed up in a secluded spot with the team taking care of him and his vision had slowly returned. The burns had healed.

If Murdock's injury had given Hannibal the inkling to approach Maggie about an on-call arrangement with the team, then Ray's murder and the events after leaving Arkansas had forced him to decide. It was always risky showing up to random hospitals with any serious injuries, even if Face's fake documents were flawless. Amy could always check-in as herself but that would lead Lynch right to her and even though Murdock had the VA, showing back up after his extended absences all beat up and bruised would make breaking him out that much harder the next time.

The lighter clicked as it popped out and Hannibal held it to the tip of his cigar. He inhaled and held the smoke in his mouth for a beat, savoring the rich, pungent taste. He blew the smoke out toward the slightly cracked-open window and gripped the steering wheel a little harder. Just thinking about Ray made his stomach clench. In his head, he knew there was nothing that he could have done, but in his heart, he wished he had been there for Ray like Ray had been there for him and the team during the trial. Ray had been a solid presence in their lives, even when they couldn't speak directly or see each other often. Hannibal hated letting any of his team down. Despised it. He had never and would never ask any of his subordinates to do anything he wasn't willing to do himself. Now Ray was dead and Hannibal would live with the guilt of not being there for him for the rest of his life. He did what he always did with emotions and feelings that had no place in the life of a fugitive - he shoved them down deep and locked them away, consciously turning his thoughts to something he still had some control over. He reminded himself to ask Face how the fund for the baby was coming. He'd call Trish and check in with her next week. They couldn't help Ray anymore but the team would make damn sure his wife and child were well taken care of.

Hannibal shifted the cigar in his mouth again and made the decision. His attraction to Maggie would stay secondary. This would be a business arrangement, nothing more. That's how it had to be. The team's health and well-being came before his own desires.

'We'll keep things platonic.' Hannibal vowed to himself as he slid the car over in front of a red Buick and took the exit that led to Bad Rock.

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The bell over the door jangled loudly as Hank walked into the Sheriff's office. Deputy Jack Harmson stopped hunting and pecking on the keyboard long enough to give him a frustrated smile.

"Hiya, Sheriff." Hunt. Peck. Hunt. Peck. Peck.

"Jack. How's it goin'?"

"I tell ya, we did just fine before this newfangled machine. Why we've got to enter all these files into it?"

Hank considered the question. Jack already knew that the Feds wanted to start a National database for criminals and every municipality in the country was to start using budget funds to purchase computers and begin the long and arduous process of digitizing all their files and records. Jack was old school and had no interest in career advancement or streamlining procedure, let alone joining the technology age. As Bad Rock's only deputy, he was perfectly content to defer to Hank. Handling the occasional drunk and disorderly, vandalism or petty theft was fine with him until the day he could retire with a pension from the state and sit at home on the front porch, drinking beer and driving his wife nuts.

"I reckon it'll help everyone out in the long run." Hank poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at his desk. "Any messages?"

Jack cursed under his breath as he hunted for another seemingly elusive key. "Nope, it's been quiet 'round here today."

It was Hank's turn to sigh. He of course didn't want people to commit crimes, but nothing had happened in Bad Rock in months and that had just been old man Redburn's grandsons tagging a few street signs while they visited from L.A. Hank didn't want a repeat of Jenko's biker gang attack but it seemed like since the town had faced such a serious threat, no one had stepped as much as a toe out of line.

Hank looked at the clock. Seven hours and 54 minutes until he could leave to pick up Maggie for their date. She was the one bright spot in this dreary little town. Determined not to watch the clock, Hank started in on the monthly budget report.

For the next half hour, the clicking of keyboard keys was interspersed with the occasional mild curse from Deputy Harmson.

"Dagnabit! Sheriff, if I didn't know better, I'd think these buttons were movin' around on me."

Hank chuckled as Jack pushed the computer keyboard away and wiped the sweat off his brow with a handkerchief.

"Maybe we see if Peggy wants to earn a little spending money to type those records up, huh Jack?"

"I'll pay her myself, Sheriff." Jack stood up and limped to the door, holding a hand over his lower back. "I'ma get us lunch. The usual?"

"Thanks, Jack. You mind picking up an extra sandwich? I told Mo I'd bring her lunch today."

"Sure thing." Jack replied as he left the office.

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Maggie was sitting on her porch, enjoying the peace and quiet when a brown vehicle she didn't recognize pulled to a stop in front of her property. The driver killed the engine but continued to sit in the car. She watched warily, ready to run inside and retrieve her gun if necessary. After another minute, Maggie stood up to show the mystery visitor she was aware of their presence. It suddenly occurred to her that maybe the driver was injured and couldn't get out of the car. She took a cautious step down towards the walkway and then another until she could bend down and see inside the car. Just as she was in line to see who it was, the door opened and none other than Hannibal Smith stood up and shot her a jaunty smile over the hood of the car.

"Hiya, Doc."

Maggie sighed with relief that there was no immediate threat, became worried about the potential reason he had shown up again out of the blue and felt her heart start to race at the sight of him, all within about half a second.

She stepped down off of the last step as he came around the car to greet her.

"Hannibal, I didn't expect to see you again. Is everything ok?"

"We've had a few little incidents but everyone is fine and BA's leg is good as new. He stopped limping about a month ago."

"That's good." She looked at him expectantly.

"Doc, I'd like to discuss something with you. Can we talk inside?"

Maggie pretended to consider his request until he flashed a blinding smile at her scrutiny and then her face broke into a wide grin and she turned to the side and gestured toward her door, hoping her shaking knees wouldn't give her away. What was it about this man?

Hannibal smirked at the reaction she had tried to hide from him, and offered her his arm. Seeing her again made him realize this wasn't going to be easy. Still, it had to be easier than finding another doctor they could trust.

"I was just about to make a fresh pot of coffee. Would you like some?"

"Thanks." Hannibal smiled, not taking his eyes off of her as they walked up the porch steps together.

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Hank had finally started to concentrate on his report again when Jack walked through the door and dumped a lunch tray on his desk.

"Sheriff, did you know that A-Team guy, uh, Smith, was here?"

"Smith? You sure?"

"I seen him, plain as day. He pulled up to Doc's house as I was heading out to the diner. You think it has something to do with them bikers?"

"No, Jenko and his gang are still in prison and not leaving for a long time. I'll head over and make sure everything's ok." Hank set his and Jack's lunch down on the desk and picked up the tray to take to Maggie's. "Hold down the fort. I'll be back soon."

"Ok, Sheriff. I got my eyes peeled."

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Maggie's fingertips traced a lazy trail up and down Hannibal's arm. She tipped her head up from her resting place on his chest and smiled.

"What's your real name?"

"John." he answered, shifting an arm out from behind his head to pull her in for a soft kiss.

"I like that." she murmured.

"I'm kind of partial to it myself."

Maggie smiled. "You don't lack confidence, do you?"

"Now why would you say that?" Hannibal asked with a chuckle.

They were both quiet for a moment.

"I have to head back soon."

"I know. At least let me make you lunch first."

Hannibal laughed and rolled over, maneuvering Maggie onto her back on the bed. "I think we missed lunch."

The doorbell chimed loudly throughout the house and Hannibal was up and reaching for his gun before the echo had faded.

"Sorry, I know it's loud but I have to be able to hear my patients if they need me." Maggie explained as she jumped up and pushed her arms into the sleeves of a robe. "I'll be right...oh, no!"

"What is it?"

"It's probably Hank. He said he would bring me lunch today." Leaning into the mirror over her dresser, Maggie brushed her fingers through her hair, trying to remove the mussed look she was unintentionally sporting.

"Hank Thompson?" Hannibal smirked. "You have a date with the Sheriff?"

"It's a standing date. We're mostly friends."

Amusement in his eyes, Hannibal asked, "Mostly?"

Maggie frowned at him. "You stay," she ordered. "I'll be right back."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Hannibal gestured toward her as the doorbell chimed again.

Maggie stopped and looked down at her robe. "Oh, hell."

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Hank pressed the doorbell for the third time and cupped his hand over his eyes to peer through the frosted glass. He didn't see any movement inside. He had just turned to go around back when Maggie opened the door.

"Hank. I'm-"

"Hannibal! Jack said he saw you over here." Hank looked past Maggie as he spotted the Colonel coming toward him.

"Sheriff. Nice to see you again." Hannibal held out his hand in greeting as he came up next to Maggie, whose head had whipped around and who was now staring at him incredulously.

"Uh, Hannibal came to, well-" Maggie stuttered as she realized she hadn't the first clue why Hannibal had come. They hadn't even made it to the coffee.

"I came with a proposition for the Doc here." Hannibal grinned as Maggie sucked in a breath and promptly choked on it.

Patting Maggie gently on the back and moving her out of the doorway, Hannibal gestured for Hank to come inside.

Recovering her voice, Maggie offered, "Would you like some coffee, Hank? I was just about to make a pot."

"Thanks, Mo but I have to get back. Just stopped by to drop off that lunch I promised. I'll be back about 7." Hank handed the sandwich over and made sure his fingers brushed hers a little longer than was necessary. He didn't want to get territorial but he also didn't like how comfortable Hannibal seemed to be with Maggie in her house. "I'd say it was good to see you again, Colonel, but I never saw you."

Hannibal gave a wave as Hank turned to go. "Appreciate it, Sheriff."

Hank hesitated as he heard Maggie's door click closed and he glanced back over his shoulder. 'Nothing to worry about,' he thought before forcing himself to keep walking back to the station.