"Battling the Blues"

By Ross7

Following a close encounter of the 'pond scum' kind, the Team stopped at a local service station to fuel up before heading back to L.A..

Two of its members exited the van. B.A. left to top off his gas tank, and Face left to find them some snacks…some soft snacks.

Murdock was sulking in the back, his index finger tentatively tracing the outline of a darkening bruise on the left side of his jaw. "Man, I hope we're gettin' 'hazardous pay' for this one, Hannibal."

Hannibal, who was sitting in the front passenger seat, clutching his bruised and battered ribcage, didn't respond.

H.M. began to squirm in his bucket seat. There seemed to be something pressing into his posterior. The Captain managed a sore smile, as a probing hand came up with a quarter. Two bits hardly qualified as 'hazardous pay'. He leaned forward and tapped his quiet Commander on the shoulder. "A quarter for your thoughts, Colonel," he teased and offered the man, who had finally turned to face him, the coin.

Hannibal managed the slightest of smiles. "It's nothing, really. I'm just a little worried about B.A.—"

"—B.A.?" Murdock quickly cut in. "You don' need ta worry 'bout him. He didn' even get hit!"

"There are different kinds of pain, Captain. Haven't you noticed how quiet and withdrawn he's been lately?"

H.M. looked thoughtful. Now that Hannibal mentioned it, the Big Guy hadn't called him 'Fool!'—even one time—the whole entire trip! "So-o…what you're sayin' is…we're all black an' blue. He's just black…an' blue." The Captain was pleased to see that his witty comeback had succeeded in coaxing another slight smile from his troubled teammate. Now, if they could only think of a way to cheer up B.A.. A strange look came over him, as something suddenly dawned on him. "What's the plan, Colonel? How we gonna put a lil' ol' smile back on that big, ugly, mud-sucker's face?"

Hannibal snatched the quarter from the Captain's hand. "I'll fill you in at the next stop," he promised, just prior to slipping out his side door.

Murdock arched an eyebrow and watched as the evasive planner began heading, rather gingerly, for the public phone booth at the far corner of the garage. The Captain couldn't wait for 'the next stop'.

"Take the next exit, B.A.," the Colonel requested, twelve hours of non-stop travel later.

B.A., who was in a mighty big hurry to get home, balked at being sidetracked. "What for?"

"Lindstrom is sending our money via courier," Hannibal calmly explained—er, lied through his loosened teeth. "We have to swing by the airport and pick up our pay."

The Big Guy wasn't buying any part of that reply, and he shot his front seat passenger a glare that said as much. "Thas' the dumbest thing I ever heard, Hannibal!"

"I know!" the Colonel whole-heartedly agreed. "But what could I do? The guy insisted that we be paid in cash, and he apparently banks back East somewhere. Talk about your 'quirky' clients…"

B.A. reluctantly hit his turn signal and, even more begrudgingly, began changing lanes. "You better not be lyin' ta me, Hannibal!" he warned, as they exited the freeway.

Hannibal flashed his menacing amigo a smile that was part cherubic and part Cheshire Cat. "B.A., when we get to that airport, there will be a 'big payoff'! I promise! Scouts' honor!" he tacked on and raised his right hand.

But the Big Guy remained deeply skeptical. "You better not be lyin' ta me, Hannibal!" he gruffly re-warned.

Shortly after the Team's arrival at L.A.X., 'John H. Smith' was paged to pick up an airport courtesy phone. The Colonel held a brief, one-sided conversation with 'someone' and then announced that the 'big payoff' would take place in ten minutes, over at Gate 28.

"Hey, Mrs. B!" Murdock shouted out, being the first to spot B.A.'s mom among the milling throng of Gate 28's newly-arrived passengers.

"Hey, Murdock!" Mrs. B called back. "Come here, Crazy Man, so's I kin give you a big ol' hug…"

The pair embraced and H.M. got the stuffing squeezed out of him.

"Gosh, it's good to see you again! Now, where is that son a' mine?" The woman stepped back and began scanning the crowd.

The Colonel had been keeping a watchful eye on the Big Guy. He didn't want to miss seeing his Sergeant's reaction to the 'big payoff'. Immediately upon hearing his mother's voice, B.A. had gone from glum to giddy…just as Hannibal had hoped—and planned.

"I'm right here, Mama!" her son declared, and promptly elbowed his way up to the woman. B.A. picked his 'Mama' clean up off of her feet and, in spite of her size—and their tight quarters—whirled her around a few times. The two of them then proceeded to hug the stuffing out of each other. "I missed you, Mama!"

"I missed you, too, Son! That's why, when Hannibal wired me the money for a ticket this morning, I dropped everything and hopped on the first plane that was headin' West!"

Mrs. B's son was all smiles. "You wasn' lyin', Hannibal," he determined, and flashed the money sender a grateful grin. "Lucky for you!" he sternly added.

Noting that their brooding buddy was no longer blue, H.M. turned to the Colonel and quietly inquired, "How did you know?"

"Teammates are nice to have around," Hannibal told him. "But there are times when a man needs his mother."

Murdock nodded thoughtfully.

Hannibal saw that Mrs. Baracus had finished squooshing—er, greeting Face and was now headed his way. "Ah-ahhh, easy on the ribs!" he pleaded, as he was pulled into a crushing bear hug.

Face, Murdock and B.A. watched—and winced, as the 'I love it when a plan comes together!' look, that had been pasted upon their Commander's face for the past few minutes, was quickly replaced with a grimace.

They had beaten the blues, but not the black and blues. ;)