13. Waffles

AN: This week's Hannibal story was inspired by the single word "waffles" that my youngest daughter said before starting her school work for the day.

Disclaimer: I do not own The A Team movie or television series or any of the delightful characters found on The A Team.

B. A. answered the door to his mother's Chicago apartment.

He put a finger to his lips when he saw it was Hannibal back from his four hour early morning shift watching for Decker and his MPs. Face had left ten minutes before to spell him. Their sleep was a small sacrifice to make to ensure Mrs. Baracus could spend one Mother's Day with her own son.

"Momma's still sleepin'. Ya gotta be quiet."

The corners of the Colonel's mouth quirked upward in a small acknowledgement of the Sergeant's doting concern for his mother. He sniffed the air and raised an eyebrow at the smells coming from the kitchen.

"Fool thought Momma'd like some homemade strawberry waffles with whipped cream an' maple syrup for Mother's Day. He saw I'd got Momma a red rose in a fancy vase an' he wanted t' do somethin' for her, too." B. A. glanced toward the kitchen, a sheepish grin on his face. "When he does stuff like this, he ain' too bad t' have 'round."

Hannibal knew that was as close of a statement of brotherhood as he was likely to get from the black man. He nodded and smiled. "So will there be enough for all of us or is this just a small batch Murdock's making?"

"Don't know for sure. He bought all the stuff early this mornin' an's been out there for 'bout an hour. Been real quiet so's not t' spoil the surprise." B. A. frowned. "Almost too quiet. It ain' natural."

"Maybe I'll go on out to the kitchen and see if he'd like me to take over some of the waffle-making." The Colonel glanced toward the kitchen and moved past the Sergeant. The look on B. A.'s face stopped him.

"What?" Hannibal asked, irritation tinging the word.

"Well . . . " B. A. shut the door carefully behind the Colonel and studiously avoided his gaze.

"Well?" The older man put his hands on his hips and waited. He knew what was coming. He just wanted to hear it.

"Well, this is th' fool's gift ta Momma an' maybe he'd like ta do it all by hisself." The Sergeant hedged around the question.

"But he probably has your mother's portion done so all I'd be helping with is what the rest of us would be eating." Hannibal raised an eyebrow, daring B. A. to express the real reason he was uncomfortable having the Colonel in the kitchen.

The Sergeant swallowed. There was silence for several seconds.

"I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." Hannibal patted B. A. on the shoulder before heading toward the source of the food aromas.

When he got to the doorway, he paused and watched for a few seconds with crossed arms and a smile on his face.

A radio played with Prokofiev's "Love For Three Oranges March." Murdock whistled soundlessly through his teeth and waved a fork in the air in time to the music. Opening a waffle iron with a flourish, he used his impromptu baton to pry another perfectly formed waffle from the iron. Hannibal could see the satisfied smile on the pilot's face.

He turned the waffle over onto a stack of already made waffles and covered them again to hold in the heat. Seeing Hannibal out of the corner of his eye, he froze in place for a moment. His mouth fell open slightly and then he covered his surprise with a lopsided grin.

"Hiya, Hannibal. Breakfast's almost ready. Faceman ate already. Jus' go have a seat 'n' I'll letcha have the next couple, fresh off th' griddle." Talking quickly, the cook nodded toward the kitchen table as he stood in front of the waffle iron as if to protect it.

"B. A. said you've been really quiet out here. I thought I'd check and make sure you didn't need some help."

"Help?" The pilot's grin disappeared as he swallowed once. "If you wanna help, I need someone t' pour the O. J. inta glasses 'n' set th' table. Yeah, that'd be a huge help. Thanks?" Murdock's voice had an almost pleading tone to it.

Hannibal strolled over and glanced into the bowl of pinkish colored batter. "Looks good. Your recipe?"

"Um . . . yeah." Murdock grabbed the bowl and opened the waffle iron, turning away from the older man. "Jus' 'bout done. 'Nough for maybe three more."

"I remember making waffles one time for my mother. For Mother's Day, as I recall," the Colonel mused. He scrutinized the large rectangular silver appliance and shook his head. "Even looks like the one I used back home in Detroit. This must be a vintage model."

Murdock cleared his throat, keeping his eye on pouring the batter onto the griddle. "B. A. says Momma got this as a weddin' gift way back in th' 40's."

"Ah." Hannibal hovered near the pilot's elbow. "You can fill it more than that."

"Uh . . . no, I can't. It'll squeeze out all over th' place 'n' make a mess." The Captain hurriedly shut the lid and turned to the older man. Seeing the hurt in Hannibal's eyes, he paused for a second and offered the fork to his CO. "I'll go get the tray for Momma ready. You can do the last two, okay?"

The Colonel grinned. "Thanks, Captain. It'll be just like back home."

B. A. had come into the kitchen and was having a quiet conversation with Murdock over by the kitchen table. The two men glanced over to Hannibal and the pilot shrugged. Under his breath, he muttered, "Let 'im have his fun. What's the worse can happen, Big Guy? Burned waffles? Batter all over th' counter?"

There was a loud pop and the radio and kitchen light both shut off at once. Both men raised their eyebrows as Hannibal looked around him in surprise.

"That can happen. Musta blown a fuse somewhere. Keep puttin' t'gether Momma's tray an' I'll go check it out." Without another word B. A. fished in a drawer for a flashlight and left the apartment to go down to the basement.

"What just happened?" The older man scowled up at the light. "I didn't do that."

"Now, Colonel, I'm sure it wasn't your fault. Here, why don'tcha sit down 'n' let me dish ya up." Murdock pulled out a chair at the table and gestured to it. He sighed in relief as he served his CO.

"Everyone's a wise guy," Hannibal grouched as he took his seat. "Even the power company."