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An Idea Of Heaven
Summary: The guys have a discussion about heaven. This is not a serious fic and I don't think that the ending is too sappy. I once again blame country music for the inspiration (It is a pervasive evil that should be destroyed). *** means the lyrics, as near as I can remember, to a song by Andy Riggs called "If Heaven". I am not a writer, so I really have no idea why these ideas keep popping into my head and forcing themselves onto the paper.
Disclaimer: I don't own the song, the team or anything; if I did I would gloat about it.
Please send comments or suggestions, I really do appreciate it.
***If heaven was a day, it'd be a summer day in 1985
And everything I wanted was out there waiting,
And everyone I loved was still alive.***
"So what do you guys think heavens' like?" Murdock asked. The sudden question didn't faze B.A. or
Hannibal; they were long since used to the pilots' eccentric tangents from
nowhere. This time though, mused
Murdock turned his attention back to the front of the van
"But I mean, what exactly will we do in heaven? I hope I can fly, could I bring Billy? and
what about the jazz? You think you could get on the jazz in heaven
Colonel?" Unable to keep quite
anymore, a disgusted snort and a shake of his head were B.A.s'
only response to this theological debate.
B.A. shrugged off Murdock's arm and turned to glare at the
pilots grinning face. "I ain't
flying, wings or no. The only thing you
could teach people is how to crash with wings, anyway in heaven you can't be seeing and talking to
things that ain't there or you'll get us
kicked out and then I would have to pound you into a cloud" "Now B.A."
"Come on B.A. I'll have wings and the colonel will a
plan with the jazz and Face will have them pretty angels, but what you gonna look forward to most in heaven?" "Seeing people" he grunted, then with a sideways glance at
the curious looks on his friends faces, B.A. sighed deeply and with a little
bit of embarrassment said "Mama says heaven supposed to be like a sort of reunion, you see people who
left a long time ago, friends and family. You be with all your loved ones." His eyes turned back to the road and they
drove on in silence for awhile. The moon
shone brightly on the country road that they were traveling; there was no other
traffic and the radio hummed snatches of songs now and then. The van was filled with a comfortable if
somewhat somber silence as each of the three men thought about what B.A. had
said. They all had family members that
had died and of course there were the countless friends that were made and lost
in a far country called
In the back of the van, eyes closed but not asleep, in fact he'd woken up just in time to hear about Hannibal's purposed frontal assault on hell, Face smiled at little at his teammate's opinions. He was Catholic and he knew all about heaven, hell and everything in between but he had chosen to just listen instead of participate in the discussion. For his part he had thought about heaven a long time ago, as a young child in the orphanage in fact. He had dreamed of what it must be like, of angels, St. Peter and even flying with wings. He was older now and maybe not so wise but he was experienced with life enough to know, that sometimes heaven wasn't as far away as most people thought. In fact, for him, heaven was a grey and black van with a red stripe traveling on a summer night and inside was the three people who meant more to him than he could ever possibly explain without sounding like a complete sap. That was his idea of heaven and as long as he was with the guys, he wasn't afraid to die.
***If that's what heavens made of, you know I ain't afraid to die***
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