NOTICE: I don't own the a-team, jsut the idea for the story and my OC's.
AND CHAPTER Eight! YAY!
Chapter Eight: Country Friend Chicken brings lovin'
1500 hours, Moscow, Russia
A-team HQ, The Kitchen
Blaze laughed at Murdock as he and Face tried to make fried chicken. Or some kind of chicken; they had the ingredients for fried chicken, but it wasn't coming together well. They weren't doing so great.
Face had managed to almost blow up the stove, setting it to over 500, and also had flour and egg all over him. Murdock, on the other hand, had managed to get bits of slimy bits of chicken and sprayable grease on his shirt and face.
"You guys look ridiculous! Are you sure you don't want B.A. to make it?" she asked, trying to contain a laugh as she looked at the two.
These two had always been partners in crime, doing almost everything and anything together. In their old HQ in Iraq, they had managed to do so many things, including steal all of Morrison's cigars and replace them with lookalike cigars filled with paprika (how Face conned the spice, no one knew), set two of the Black Forest guys up with each other (each personally thought that they were going to meet a local girl who would 'give herself fully' to any honest and truthful American soldier), and many other devious and/or evil pranks against about everyone.
But now, the two pranksters were being laughed at by a hacker.
"Shut up!" screamed Face, whipping some of the flour off his face which just led to heavier streaks. "UGH!"
Murdock patted Face's back. "Aww, don't get mad Facey! But I seriously think we should let B.A. do it. We're faillin' at this, my dear sir."
He switched his accents quickly, bowing a bit to the equally dirty Face.
Face huffed and nodded.
"B.A.!" screamed Blaze, cupping her hands at the sides of her mouth, "YOU CAN MAKE YOUR CHICKEN NOW!"
After several seconds of waiting, B.A. bounded through the door with a smirk on his face. "Well it took you crazy-ass-fools long enough to mess it up!" He looked around. "Why's the oven on? FRIED chicken is FRIED, not baked! Damn! It looks like a hurricane went thro' here!"
Blaze agreed. "Named James or Templeton. If you excuse me." She walked out, laughing as she did.
Even in the midst of the mess, Face couldn't help but stare at her with a certain lust in his eyes while she left.
"Umm...Facey? You've got a little something . . ." said Murdock. He motioned towards his friend's chin, and pantomimed wiping.
"I know! I got it! I'm covered in flour! I'm a horrible mess!"
"No . . . it's more like . . . drool?"
Reaching up, he did find a tiny bit of wetness at the corner of his lips. Damn it! Now he looked like some kind of horny teenager! Did B.A. see it too? What was Murdock going to think . . . well, that was a difficult question in most circumstances, but this seemed different. Face pondered on that for a moment. Why did it seem different? Murdock had seen him leering after women before. Lots of times! But this . . . this about Blaze felt . . .
He couldn't find the right word to label it.
Wiping the drool away, Face straightened up and cleared his throat right as Hannibal came in.
"So I'm guessing that something outstandingly hilarious happened by the way she's laughing? And by the way, nice war paint," joked Hannibal, walking over to the ancient and rusted fridge to grab a beer.
"Yes, Hannibal, Murdock and I had a food fight," said Face, using his pouty lip. "It was fun, though."
The old man laughed. "I bet."
He scratched his chin while surveying his team.
"So Face..." began B.A.
"Yes, Bosco?"
"When are ya finally gonna kiss the girl!" screamed the mechanic, giving him his best 'duh, you're an idiot' look.
Face scoffed, sitting down on the nearest table. "I dunno what you're talking about."
Hannibal laughed. "Face, don't deny it. There isn't a better time than now."
Face scoffed once again.
"But I'm supposed to be in love with Charissa! Charissa! Once Blaze came here, it went POW! right out the window! I don't get it! Is there such a thing as love at first sight?" asked Face, completely confused.
"I've learned," said Hannibal, opening his beer, "that it's better to do the things that don't seem rational or correct at the time. Because once you do them, you'll realize that they're the right thing to do."
Face smiled. "You rock, old man."
1515 hours, Moscow, Russia
A-team HQ, Blaze's room
Blaze was typing furiously on her computer, messing up every few strokes, causing her to backspace and redo the incorrect typing. It annoyed her that she did this, because she never messed up anything.
Okay, well that wasn't true. She messed up on her SAT's, and got herself a deadbeat boyfriend once that expected her to just to everything at his whim, and her mom who always yelled at her for nothing. All she did was become the army. She'd messed up on a lot of things, but she'd never admit it.
Her pride was too much to admit it.
When she had finally finished correcting every stupid typing mistake, Face burst through her door.
She turned around. "Face?"
He'd at least cleaned most of his face off. There were still lingering traces of flour on the outer portions of his cheeks, but he'd scrubbed hard enough to make the other previously marked areas slightly red. His lips where a deeper shade too, as if he'd scrubbed them too. Or bitten them. Blaze couldn't decide to stare at his ice blue eyes, or those lips . . .
He didn't respond, but instead closed the gap between them and without giving warning, swept her into an embrace and locked his mouth over hers in a passionate kiss. Blaze couldn't respond, couldn't move.
She couldn't do anything.
All she could think about was the sensation of Face's lips, Templeton 'Face' Peck's, on hers.
And how much she loved it.
TADA! I told you I'd get some...err...some OC action in there :)
MERHER! Okay, so everyone thank Hoodoo!
And I want people's reviews! Because obvoiusly ya'll are reading, but not reviewing! But thank you for reading anways.
Until next time, dear readers!
~gleek2
