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This page last viewed: 2017-05-28 and has been viewed 1784 times
Summary: A meta-fic parody. Face finds himself out of place. Just a bit of fun with some things I've encountered in various stories that make me go "Hmmmm..."
Disclaimer: I don't own the A-Team, I don't make any money from this.
Face woke up in a big soft bed, whose mussed up sheets suggested an eventful night. Sadly, since this was the start of the story he had no memory of the activities that made them get that way. In fact the last thing he did remember was being woken up and told he had to do emergency cover in a fic and then he was here.
'Here' was a pleasant, large bedroom, with a whiff of salty air coming from the morning breeze that blew through the open window, stirring the gauzy drapes. Ah, another beach house. He noticed a framed photograph on the nightstand and picked it up for a closer look. It showed himself and Hannibal, Hannibal with his arms around Face standing behind him, in a proprietary sort of embrace.
Oh, a slash fic. Okay. He squinted at the picture and wondered how come Hannibal appeared so much taller than him in it. Was he standing on a box?
Never mind. Face showered, noticing how much more tanned and toned and generally like that of a male underwear model his body was. Slash fics had their perks. He dressed and followed the sound of voices elsewhere in the house. He hadn't been given a proper briefing before he was dropped into this fic, so he would have the play it by ear.
He found the rest of the team in the kitchen, BA and Murdock sitting at the table, and Hannibal – his lover – standing at the stove.
"Morning, Tem," Hannibal said, smiling at him.
"Tem? Er, I mean, morning, guys." The scent of bacon and eggs tantalised him. "Three pieces of bacon and some scrambled eggs would be great," he said, taking his place at the table and grabbing the sports section.
"Face, you have to eat," Hannibal said. He paused, a spatula in his hand dripping fat into the pan. "Wait, what did you say?"
"Three pieces of bacon, scrambled eggs. Oh and if there's any waffles going, count me in." He grabbed a piece of toast from a plate in the middle of the table. Murdock and BA were staring at him too now. What, had they never seen a man eat breakfast before?
"You hungry, Facey?" Murdock asked, as Hannibal, still shaking his head in confusion, turned back the stove. "Your blood sugar isn't low, is it? I could get your shot if you want."
Blood sugar? "Er, no, thanks, Murdock, I'm fine." He went on reading the sports reports. A few minutes later Hannibal put a plate of food in front of Face. Face smiled up at him, adding a sexy wink. "Thanks, Hannibal."
Hannibal just looked more confused than ever. But he pulled himself together and came and sat beside Face. A few moments later Face felt a hand on his thigh. He looked at Hannibal, who leaned in for a bacon flavoured kiss. Face pulled back, shocked.
"Hannibal, ix-nay on the PDOA, eh?"
A makeout session in front of BA and Murdock, that was, well, not classy. Hannibal got his most confused look yet. But Face needn't have worried. Looking over he found Murdock and BA were already macking enthusiastically and far to busy to notice him and Hannibal.
"Guys!" Face protested. "Please! I'm trying to eat here!"
The team split up briefly when they headed out to the job. Hannibal and BA went for some supplies for the mission, while Face and Murdock staked out the bad guy. Face had a bad feeling about what would happen when they came back and suspected another Face's head and lion's mouth interface was in the offing. But for now, he relaxed as they watched an office from the street.
People passing paid them no attention, but remembering he was in a slash fic, and since apparently everyone on the team was gay, Face made sure to take a good look at a rather attractive young man walking past. He winked at Murdock and grinned.
"See the ass on that guy?"
Murdock stared at him in total horror. "Face!"
"What?" Face said, baffled. "I'm just looking. I thought..."
"Facey, you never look at other men! You told me Hannibal is the only man you ever had those kind of feelings for. That you never ever think about any other man, and would never ever let any other man touch you!"
"I said that? Er... was I drunk at the time?"
"I don't think so. Your nose was kind of red, but I think that's because you were crying so hard."
"I was what? Oh, never mind. Forget it. You're right, no other ass could ever compare to Hannibal's, I'm sure."
Murdock gave him an odd look. "Are you feeling okay, Facey? You've been acting funny all morning. You're not getting a migraine are you?"
"A migraine? I have hypoglycaemia and migraines? How did I get into the Army?"
"You just didn't tell them of course."
"And this doesn't affect my work?"
"You never let it, because you're so dedicated and brave and all around wonderful."
Well, he wasn't arguing with that.
When Hannibal and BA returned in the van Face and Murdock got out of the car and BA started to fix a wire to Face's jacket. Ah, the lion's mouth awaited.
"You need us to get you out of there, you just use the code word," Hannibal said.
"Right. The code word. Yeah, that good old code word." He had no clue what the code word might be. He decided 'I'm about to get killed, come save me' would work just as well. He smiled at Hannibal who was looking at him funny again.
"Are you wearing lifts?" Hannibal asked suddenly.
"Lifts?" Face looked down at his shoes. "Of course not." Why would he wear lifts when he was a bare inch shy of six feet?
"You look... taller somehow." Hannibal shook his head and brought his attention back. He put a hand on Face's shoulder. "Be careful, Tem. You know, if anything happened to you..." His voice cracked and for a moment Face thought he was going to start crying.
"Right! I'd better get on with it."
He walked away, but could still hear their voices behind him.
"Are you sure Facey can handle it, Hannibal?" Murdock asked.
"If anybody hurts him, I'll pound 'em into the ground."
"Guys," Hannibal said. "Face is officially the finest scam artist in the world. Ever. There was a vote. Of course he can handle it."
Ten minutes later, Face was looking down the wrong end of a gun.
"So, the A-Team thought they could infiltrate my organisation, did they? Now all of you will die!" The powerfully muscled man with shoulders almost the size of BA's sneered at Face. He wore a thick moustache and Face wondered when he would twirl it. Right after he tied Face to some railroad tracks, probably. "Though perhaps I will leave you alive for a while." The sneer turned to a leer. "Yes, you could amuse me for some time I think, if properly… trained."
"Oh, please," Face said.
"It's no use begging..." The villain stopped and looked confused as he realised Face's "please" had been pronounced "pur-leaze" and accompanied by an eyeroll. But he recovered and stepped closer to Face. "You are insolent, I will enjoy breaking you."
Face broke the man's wrist.
The bad guy fell to the floor howling, leaving his gun in Face's hand. Face put a foot on his neck.
"Never get within reach," Face said. "Did you miss some classes at bad guy elementary school or something?"
The door slammed back and the rest of the team piled in, with guns ready.
"We'll save you, Facey!"
"We're coming, lil brother!"
"I won't let him touch you, Tem!"
Face looked at them with his eyebrows raised. They stood staring back at him, and at the already defeated bad guy on the ground.
"Oh." Hannibal frowned, then pulled himself together. He rushed to Face's side. "Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?" He pointed his pistol at the terrified man on the floor and around his cigar ground out the words. "I oughta kill you right now, slimeball."
"Hannibal!" Face protested. "I'm fine. He never laid a finger on me."
"You're sure? Is that a bruise on your face?" He touched Face's cheek gently.
"If he... if he made you do anything."
"Hannibal, he never touched me."
"You have to tell me."
"I am telling you." How many times would be have to say it?
"I won't stop loving you, you know that, I'll help you recover if he –"
Face was quite relieved when the door slammed back again and ten thugs piled into the room.
A huge melee ensued. Face rather enjoyed it for a while. He could use some exercise. An elbow in the gut here (his elbow, someone else's gut), a knee in the face there. All good clean fun. He was grabbing two guys and bashing their heads together, when he heard Hannibal call out.
"BA, help Face! He's in trouble!"
"Hang on, lil brother!"
"Huh?" Face looked up from dumping the now unconscious thugs on the floor at his feet. "No I'm –" A thump in his side, made him turn. A man he hadn't seen, when Hannibal's shout distracted him, stepped away, smirking. A knife in his hand dripped red. Face didn't wait for him to use it again. His fist rammed out and the man flew back to slam into the wall. Face pressed a hand to his side and it came away with blood on his fingers.
"Oh, no." This had better not be a death fic, he thought. His clothes always got ruined in those.
BA arrived and clubbed the stirring thugs at Face's feet into deeper unconsciousness.
"You okay, lil brother?"
"Well, no, I've been stabbed."
"He okay?" Hannibal called, dealing with the last of their opponents.
"Yeah, he's fine," BA replied. He started dragging the thugs into a heap in the middle of the room, where Murdock started tying them up.
"Er, it may be quite serious," Face said.
Murdock chuckled. "Good old, Facey, always the kidder."
"In fact, I'd go so far as to say very serious and you know, it really hurts."
"We'll buy some Tylenol on the way home," Hannibal said.
"I'm bleeding pretty heavily."
"Always worrying about his clothes," Murdock said.
Dizziness overwhelmed Face.
"Okay, I'm going to pass out now."
Face passed out.
Face woke up with a pillow over his face. This didn't seem to be the usual arrangement, so he pushed it away, to find Maggie Sullivan holding it.
"Oh, sorry," she said. "I didn't realise you were awake."
"What the hell are you doing?"
"I'm trying to kill you, of course."
"What? But you're my friend. Why are you trying to kill me?"
"You know, to eliminate the competition. If you're dead, then John will marry me."
Face frowned. "That makes no sense."
She grimaced, plumped up the pillow and put it back under his head.
"Tell me about it. There's plenty more straight fish in the sea, but no, it has to be John! You should be calling him John too, by the way."
"I've never called him John in my life!"
"Not in your life maybe, but in this one."
Face saw now that she was as out of place around here as him.
"Any chance you can let me know what's going on?" Face asked her.
"Didn’t you get a briefing?"
"Nope. Dragged out of bed, dropped into the action. It's like the Army all over again."
"Okay, well the usual Face and Maggie that belong in..." she shuddered "...these types of fics, weren't available, so we have to fill in."
"Where are the other two?"
"Well, their Face is sort of huddled in a corner, sobbing."
"If all his days in here are like this one, I can understand why. What about Maggie?"
"Oh, she escaped and is running around in a wedding dress with a big syringe of potassium in her hand, looking for you. They're chasing her with a big net."
"So we're stuck here until this thing plays itself out?"
"I'm afraid so. Now, get comfy there, I'm going to give you a blood transfusion."
"Not really. I'm going to – ahem – accidentally give you the wrong blood type."
"Won't that hurt?"
"Oh very much indeed."
"Tem," Hannibal smoothed Face's hair off his forehead and then held one of Face's pale hands in his own. "How many times do I have to say it? You have to tell me when you're hurt."
"Er, I did."
"I know, you don't want to be a burden, but…"
"Han… er, John, I told you I was bleeding." Face thought for a moment and then realised. Ah, of course. "Okay, John, I promise, next time I've had a big knife stuck deep into my abdomen I'll make sure to claim it's only a scratch."
Hannibal leaned over and kissed him softly in the forehead. "That's my boy."
After a week and ten murder attempts by Maggie, the team finally figured out something was going on and returned to LA with Face, who was considerably the worse for wear.
Back at the house they all inexplicably shared, Hannibal gave Face an apology. A tearful apology.
"It was my fault," he said, tears shining in his crystal blue eyes. "I should never have sent you in there alone. I'll never put you in danger like that again, Tem. I love you more than life itself. Never forget that." The tears spilled down his cheeks now. He looked at Face concerned. "Are you okay? You look a little green."
"I feel kind of nauseated," Face said.
"It must be your medication," Hannibal said, wiping his eyes.
"Yeah," Face said. "The medication." He decided he couldn't take any more of this, there had to be a way to distract Hannibal.
"So, John, we've got a couple of hours before dinner, any ideas to kill the time?"
"Let me make love to you, Tem."
Well, Face had been thinking of a game of cards or something, but whatever. He shrugged. "Okay."
"I know it's soon, after what he did to you."
"He never touched me!"
"But I can make it good again. I can show you what love means."
"Okay, fine." Face noticed his injuries from the stab wound and the ones Maggie inflicted seemed to be suddenly healing up, presumably so they wouldn't put any kind of crimp in the activities to come. Playing his part, he leaned close to Hannibal and whispered a few interesting suggestions in his ear. Hannibal pulled back with a look of total horror on his face.
"You..." He could barely get the words out. "You... you mean you want to... to top?"
Face realised his mistake at once and smoothly recovered. "No, no, no, no, no. I meant that's what I want you to do to me."
"Ah!" Hannibal sagged with obvious relief. He'd looked as if his world had gone insane for a moment. "Let's go, baby," he said. Before Face could stand up, Hannibal put his arms under Face's knees and shoulders and tried to scoop him up.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Face yelled. Too late. Hannibal overbalanced at once and fell over. The two of them landed in a heap on the floor, Hannibal groaning about his back.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Face demanded. "How much do you think I weigh?"
"More than I recall," Hannibal said. "I think we need to get you back on the assault course, Lieutenant."
Groaning, the two of them struggled up and walked into the bedroom, Face on his own two feet this time. In there, they started to undress. Face took off his shirt and looked down at his own chest for a moment with a frown, then hurried over to the mirror. He gasped at the sight of metal.
"They're so sexy, babe," Hannibal purred, coming up behind him and kissing his neck.
Face had had enough. He'd done his duty. He picked up one of the many sticks of greasepaint on the dresser and wrote on the mirror in big letters the two words that would get him out of this fic.
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