Murdock sat on a small, spare cot. His eyes were closed and
his arms were wrapped tightly around himself. Not that he had
any choice regarding his arms, as they were buckled inside a
Dr. Richter was concerned. Murdock had been agitated and hadn't
slept in days. He seemed to be on the brink of something, but
Richter wasn't sure of what. He feared his patient, who
had been making sure and steady progress, was heading for a
relapse. Richter walked away from the observation window and
headed for the nurses' station. In the sterile environment it
seemed strangely out of place, decorated with a small Christmas
tree and a string of colorful lights.
In the small room, Murdock rocked bath and forth, and thought
he heard a familiar song playing softly in the background.
He recognized the melody and began to hum along, trying to
remember the words. He repeated the first few lines over and
over, trying to recall what came next, but the music, and
the words, wouldn't come. He sat, rocking and humming, until
he fell into the twilight of sleep.
A scene began to form, a large tree covered with twinkling
lights, red and green and blue, and BA in a Santa suit,
pretending he wouldn't enjoy playing Santa to the kids at the
orphanage. The scene expanded and Hannibal appeared,
chomping on an unlit cigar and smiling at BA. "Are you ready
yet? You're holding up the show." BA grumbled a reply as
Murdock took in more of the room. He saw a pile of colorfully,
albeit inexpertly wrapped packages, and Face sitting on the
floor, scissors in hand and a Santa cap pulled
over his carefully styled hair. Murdock felt a tightening
in his chest, but before he could consciously examine it, the
scene shifted and he found himself in another room. There
were children, lots of children, excited and clamoring for
attention. A large woman with dusky skin appeared to be in
charge, but her demands for quiet were ignored. Hannibal
appeared in the doorway and shouted that Santa was on his way.
A hush fell across the room as BA, not a a small person by
any means, and now much rounder in the Santa suit with a
pillow strapped around his midsection, appeared in the doorway.
The dream lost continuity, BA calling kids to the chair where
he sat, Face and Hannibal handing him wrapped presents, the
kids returning to their places on the floor, hurriedly
ripping off wrapping paper. Then the kids were gone, piles
of torn gift wrap and empty boxes littering the floor.
BA unbelting his jacket and ordering Face to quit playing the
fool and help get him out of the suit before he died of
heat. Hannibal looking on, smiling at his men, happy his
plan had come together and that their family, for that was
what they were after all these years on the run, were
together and had been able to share some joy with the children
at the orphanage.
The light shifted as though more time had passed. The room
was quiet now, lit only by the glow from the lights on the
tree. Murdock thought he was alone as he surveyed the room
with its mess upon the floor. As he did, he noticed Face sitting
silently on Santa's chair, watching him carefully. Face smiled
and Murdock's heart lurched. Face's smile turned into a grin
as he slowly and silently pointed upwards. Murdock followed
the motion and the other man's gaze, seeing for the first time
a ball of Mistletoe hanging high above the chair.
Murdock sat on Face's lap, held in tightly in the younger man's
arms as he whispered "Merry Christmas, Lover." The dream faded
Back again at the observation window, Dr. Richter observed a
single tear rolling down his rocking patient's face. He turned,
having made up his mind, and walked back to the nurses' station.
"If any calls come in for Murdock, forward them to my extension."
As he walked away, the nurse realized with surprise that
Richter was not aware he was singing out loud. Both man and
softly sung words disappeared down the corridor, leaving
"Please have snow and mistletoe," running through her mind as she
picked up the the next chart and resumed her rounds.
- fin -
Go to A Cold Night for Carolling, Part 1
Fandom: The A-Team
Rating: G m/m
Disclaimer: I don't know who owns The A-Team, but it isn't me.
Special Thanks to: Cath and Karo who beta'd this
Archive: Upon request
Comments: Comments are welcome
Email for Feedack: firstname.lastname@example.org
Series/Sequel: Yes (A Cold Night for Carolling)
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Written: December 24, 2001
Haven's Slash Archive
I can be reached at email@example.com