Three Good Reasons
Jun. 6th, 2012 07:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jackofknavesTitle: Three Good Reasons
Author:jackofknaves/![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tripatch
Rating: R
Pairing: Gen
Summary: They each have their own way of taking care of problems.
Warnings: Shamelessly self-indulgent overprotective!team and prissy!Face.
It’s not that Face can’t take care of himself, because he can, and he’s got the tattoo to prove it – Ranger through and through, baby. It’s just that sometimes it’s easier to laugh it off or smooth things over or, occasionally, run and hide. Not in an ‘I’m terrified they’ll catch me way’, just a, ‘they’ll run by and I’ll pop out of this alley and adjust my jacket and walk nonchalantly the other way’ kind of way.
The truth was, he had a reputation to protect, dammit, and his namesake. He’d been lucky to not end up with any disfiguring scars so far, and he knew how to turn a split lip and stitches at his temples into something rakish, playing up either the dashing hero or the sympathy card depending on who he was talking to, but it was a pain (literally and figuratively) and he would much rather just avoid the situations altogether. Or, honestly, let Hannibal or B.A. or Murdock handle it because they didn’t have a pretty face – okay, as pretty a face as his - and honestly, with all the money he put into keeping his up while they used regular bar soap for goodness’ sakes (he winced at the mere thought of Irish Spring touching his hallowed pores), they were more than welcome to make a scene while he made a quick exit.
Not that they had to do it often. After all, he was amazing. Who didn’t like him?
Plenty. Plenty of people, as it turns out – superior officers who didn’t approve of Hannibal or his a-little-too-charming-XO; the people who were on the other end of supply deliveries that mysteriously found their way into their tents; the nurses he never called back, and sometimes the ones he did; and, of course, the new guys.
The ones who no one had warned what happened when you messed with one of Hannibal’s boys – and especially when you messed with Lt. Templeton “Face” Peck, that sweet, blue-eyed boy with a mouth that butter wouldn’t melt in.
And brother, were they in for a surprise.
1. B.A.
B.A. spoke with soft words and angry words (especially when dealing with the daily craziness known as Murdock), but the way he spoke most often was with his fists. And they were good at conversation – there was never a lull when they did the talking.
When the two newbies had started in on it, laughing at the way they had found the infamous Face in the mess and started messing with him, B.A. had let it slide. He let them keep talking, about how they had asked how much it cost for a night, whether he was as good as the rumors said, even a few of the old jokes about what they might catch if they took him up on the promises that sweet mouth made without saying a word.
It wasn’t until they mentioned cornering him outside of the mess, in the shade where no one could see, that B.A. stood up.
Six minutes later, there were two recruits lying on the ground of the gym, wondering what the license plate was on the truck that hit them, and spitting blood out on the ground in between moans.
Nobody – make that nobody - messed with one of his teammates.
2. Murdock
Murdock was many things: crazy as a loon, for one, but he always liked loons and figured that made him legal tender in Canada and every time he said as much, Face and B.A. exchanged that look like they couldn’t figure out if he was brilliant, hilarious, or just a little off. Hannibal just laughed softly around his cigar, because he knew it was all three.
He was also an amazing pilot – make that the best. Give him anything with wings or blades and he could make it perform feats not covered in the manual and sometimes not even covered by the laws of physics.
As a fighter, though, he was not the best. He knew he wasn’t as big as B.A. (who was?), or as controlled as Hannibal, but he was scrappy and agile, and for all the threats of violence that he had been on the receiving end of, almost no one actually followed through.
When he heard Pike cussing out Face – something about some shiny new supplies that had, through some tragic mishap of bureaucratic red tape, ended up being rerouted to Guatemala by mistake – he shrugged it off. Not worth getting into it, really, and Face was a big boy. Hell, he’d had worse from the Colonel himself when he chased after some pair of pretty legs in a skirt rather than concentrating on The Plan.
Oh, that was neat. Murdock grinned brilliantly, startling two recruits walking past. He didn’t know he could think in capital letters. He Wondered If He Could Do It All the Time.
But then his ears caught the new guys, shifting feet and shifty eyes, muttering something about retribution and teaching that Face guy a lesson, Murdock knew something had to be done.
So he did it.
And when Hannibal later heard about how all of Pike’s men had come down with a sudden case of Bell’s Palsy and found that the contents of their tents had somehow ended up re-arranged outside in a pattern that was perfectly recognizable as a broad smiley face from the air – well, he may have looked at Murdock with some suspicion, but he never said a word at Murdock’s blissfully ignorant smile.
3. Hannibal
Some commanders, hell, even Morrison, accused Hannibal of being protective of his boys – and this was true. They had also suggested he coddled them, which was not. He taught them everything… well, most everything, that he knew, and it was up to them to use it. And if they got their asses kicked, then he figured it just meant they needed to use more time working on their hand-to-hand training and less time making trouble in the first place. And if they kicked someone else’s asses… those were his boys and he couldn’t be prouder.
But, it was true, he did have a soft spot for them, and they all knew he’d come hell or high water to help them out of a jam, even if he did ream them out for it later. No one abused that knowledge more than Face, his trouble child. Most would have guessed B.A., with his violent temper and multiple disciplinary actions, or even Murdock, who baffled, amused, and exasperated him often, with his sock puppets and impromptu breakdance performances, but no, in the end, it was always Face.
Face, who somehow had perfected the art of double-think: he knew exactly what his smile could do to the ladies he turned it on, and yet somehow seemed oblivious of what that same smile did to the ladies’ boyfriends. Or husbands. Or, one especially memorable case, girlfriend.
And, not that he would ever admit it, he maybe let the kid get away with more than he should have.
All of his men were handpicked, but Face was the first, the youngest. If B.A. was the competent older brother, and Murdock was… well, Murdock, the middle child who was eager to please and never let Hannibal down, then Face was the baby of the group, the one who knew full well he could get away with murder and cheerfully tested that presumption as often and shamelessly as possible. He was also the one who could smile and joke and charm his way out of it, and he knew that too.
Except for when he couldn’t, which was why Hannibal was leaning in the shadow of a building, idly blowing smoke from his cigar into the cool night air as he waited.
He didn’t have to wait very long before the man he wanted stumbled out of his tent, laughing with his buddies as he went to retrieve some more beer. Hannibal casually flicked his cigar to the side and ambled up, putting one boot on top of the lid of the cooler just as the recruit – Thompson, Gene Thompson – reached for it.
He leaned down, a warm smile on his face.
“I’m Colonel Hannibal Smith,” he said in a friendly voice. “You may know one of my men, Lt. Peck?”
Thompson’s eyes widened and his face paled.
“I think it’s time you and I have a little chat, son.”
The next day, Thompson was found apologizing profusely to Face, who magnanimously waved off the babbled stream of words, clapped him on the shoulder, and sent him off with a beer as a show of good faith. He turned to the others, beaming and clearly pleased with himself.
“See? I am fully capable of handling situations myself. Just takes some time, people always warm up to me,” he said confidently.
Hannibal arched an eyebrow, B.A. grunted, and Murdock just smiled back.
There were reasons why you didn't mess with Face - three very good reasons, in fact.
Author:
jackofknaves/tripatchRating: R
Pairing: Gen
Summary: They each have their own way of taking care of problems.
Warnings: Shamelessly self-indulgent overprotective!team and prissy!Face.
It’s not that Face can’t take care of himself, because he can, and he’s got the tattoo to prove it – Ranger through and through, baby. It’s just that sometimes it’s easier to laugh it off or smooth things over or, occasionally, run and hide. Not in an ‘I’m terrified they’ll catch me way’, just a, ‘they’ll run by and I’ll pop out of this alley and adjust my jacket and walk nonchalantly the other way’ kind of way.
The truth was, he had a reputation to protect, dammit, and his namesake. He’d been lucky to not end up with any disfiguring scars so far, and he knew how to turn a split lip and stitches at his temples into something rakish, playing up either the dashing hero or the sympathy card depending on who he was talking to, but it was a pain (literally and figuratively) and he would much rather just avoid the situations altogether. Or, honestly, let Hannibal or B.A. or Murdock handle it because they didn’t have a pretty face – okay, as pretty a face as his - and honestly, with all the money he put into keeping his up while they used regular bar soap for goodness’ sakes (he winced at the mere thought of Irish Spring touching his hallowed pores), they were more than welcome to make a scene while he made a quick exit.
Not that they had to do it often. After all, he was amazing. Who didn’t like him?
Plenty. Plenty of people, as it turns out – superior officers who didn’t approve of Hannibal or his a-little-too-charming-XO; the people who were on the other end of supply deliveries that mysteriously found their way into their tents; the nurses he never called back, and sometimes the ones he did; and, of course, the new guys.
The ones who no one had warned what happened when you messed with one of Hannibal’s boys – and especially when you messed with Lt. Templeton “Face” Peck, that sweet, blue-eyed boy with a mouth that butter wouldn’t melt in.
And brother, were they in for a surprise.
1. B.A.
B.A. spoke with soft words and angry words (especially when dealing with the daily craziness known as Murdock), but the way he spoke most often was with his fists. And they were good at conversation – there was never a lull when they did the talking.
When the two newbies had started in on it, laughing at the way they had found the infamous Face in the mess and started messing with him, B.A. had let it slide. He let them keep talking, about how they had asked how much it cost for a night, whether he was as good as the rumors said, even a few of the old jokes about what they might catch if they took him up on the promises that sweet mouth made without saying a word.
It wasn’t until they mentioned cornering him outside of the mess, in the shade where no one could see, that B.A. stood up.
Six minutes later, there were two recruits lying on the ground of the gym, wondering what the license plate was on the truck that hit them, and spitting blood out on the ground in between moans.
Nobody – make that nobody - messed with one of his teammates.
2. Murdock
Murdock was many things: crazy as a loon, for one, but he always liked loons and figured that made him legal tender in Canada and every time he said as much, Face and B.A. exchanged that look like they couldn’t figure out if he was brilliant, hilarious, or just a little off. Hannibal just laughed softly around his cigar, because he knew it was all three.
He was also an amazing pilot – make that the best. Give him anything with wings or blades and he could make it perform feats not covered in the manual and sometimes not even covered by the laws of physics.
As a fighter, though, he was not the best. He knew he wasn’t as big as B.A. (who was?), or as controlled as Hannibal, but he was scrappy and agile, and for all the threats of violence that he had been on the receiving end of, almost no one actually followed through.
When he heard Pike cussing out Face – something about some shiny new supplies that had, through some tragic mishap of bureaucratic red tape, ended up being rerouted to Guatemala by mistake – he shrugged it off. Not worth getting into it, really, and Face was a big boy. Hell, he’d had worse from the Colonel himself when he chased after some pair of pretty legs in a skirt rather than concentrating on The Plan.
Oh, that was neat. Murdock grinned brilliantly, startling two recruits walking past. He didn’t know he could think in capital letters. He Wondered If He Could Do It All the Time.
But then his ears caught the new guys, shifting feet and shifty eyes, muttering something about retribution and teaching that Face guy a lesson, Murdock knew something had to be done.
So he did it.
And when Hannibal later heard about how all of Pike’s men had come down with a sudden case of Bell’s Palsy and found that the contents of their tents had somehow ended up re-arranged outside in a pattern that was perfectly recognizable as a broad smiley face from the air – well, he may have looked at Murdock with some suspicion, but he never said a word at Murdock’s blissfully ignorant smile.
3. Hannibal
Some commanders, hell, even Morrison, accused Hannibal of being protective of his boys – and this was true. They had also suggested he coddled them, which was not. He taught them everything… well, most everything, that he knew, and it was up to them to use it. And if they got their asses kicked, then he figured it just meant they needed to use more time working on their hand-to-hand training and less time making trouble in the first place. And if they kicked someone else’s asses… those were his boys and he couldn’t be prouder.
But, it was true, he did have a soft spot for them, and they all knew he’d come hell or high water to help them out of a jam, even if he did ream them out for it later. No one abused that knowledge more than Face, his trouble child. Most would have guessed B.A., with his violent temper and multiple disciplinary actions, or even Murdock, who baffled, amused, and exasperated him often, with his sock puppets and impromptu breakdance performances, but no, in the end, it was always Face.
Face, who somehow had perfected the art of double-think: he knew exactly what his smile could do to the ladies he turned it on, and yet somehow seemed oblivious of what that same smile did to the ladies’ boyfriends. Or husbands. Or, one especially memorable case, girlfriend.
And, not that he would ever admit it, he maybe let the kid get away with more than he should have.
All of his men were handpicked, but Face was the first, the youngest. If B.A. was the competent older brother, and Murdock was… well, Murdock, the middle child who was eager to please and never let Hannibal down, then Face was the baby of the group, the one who knew full well he could get away with murder and cheerfully tested that presumption as often and shamelessly as possible. He was also the one who could smile and joke and charm his way out of it, and he knew that too.
Except for when he couldn’t, which was why Hannibal was leaning in the shadow of a building, idly blowing smoke from his cigar into the cool night air as he waited.
He didn’t have to wait very long before the man he wanted stumbled out of his tent, laughing with his buddies as he went to retrieve some more beer. Hannibal casually flicked his cigar to the side and ambled up, putting one boot on top of the lid of the cooler just as the recruit – Thompson, Gene Thompson – reached for it.
He leaned down, a warm smile on his face.
“I’m Colonel Hannibal Smith,” he said in a friendly voice. “You may know one of my men, Lt. Peck?”
Thompson’s eyes widened and his face paled.
“I think it’s time you and I have a little chat, son.”
The next day, Thompson was found apologizing profusely to Face, who magnanimously waved off the babbled stream of words, clapped him on the shoulder, and sent him off with a beer as a show of good faith. He turned to the others, beaming and clearly pleased with himself.
“See? I am fully capable of handling situations myself. Just takes some time, people always warm up to me,” he said confidently.
Hannibal arched an eyebrow, B.A. grunted, and Murdock just smiled back.
There were reasons why you didn't mess with Face - three very good reasons, in fact.
