A-Team Fan Fiction: We Can Be Heroes Part II
Previous Chapter Here
We Can Be Heroes
An A-Team Movie Verse & Club Denial Fan Fiction
by Darth Stitch
DISCLAIMER: See first chapter. Standard disclaimers apply.
PART II: Check on the Rep, Yep, Second to None
Templeton "Faceman" Peck is the best at what he does and he's damn proud of it.
Ask any Army Ranger and they'll give it to you straight: if you really need something, Face can get it for you. Supplies, gear, putting the fun in a party - Face could get it done. There are soldiers who still speak, in awed tones, about the time Face somehow managed to find the latest Ducati motorcycle model in the middle of a (insert favorite expletive here) war zone, trying to follow the orders (read: whims) of a rather sadistic general with a serious grudge. Face also managed to rescue the missing daughter of a trusted asset into the bargain.
Hannibal doesn't fondly refer to him as "my professor of procurement" for nothing.
But other than just supplies or gear - Face is also good at gathering information. Know your enemy is part of what Face calls "Hannibal Smith's How-To Manual" - he might gripe about it on occasion (read: when Face gets in over his head and Hannibal has to save his ass and will again deliver the Lecture of Doom afterwards) but he understands the reasoning behind it.
Face also knows the original of that saying: So it is said that if you know your enemies and know yourself, you can win a hundred battles without a single loss.
Yeah, Face has read Sun Tzu as well.
They might have just been dragged into a situation straight out of a fantasy film (complete with 3D Special Effects) but the mission parameters were pretty much the same. Getting good intel was the first thing to do and Face could get that job done no sweat. Eventually, he was able to assemble all the data Hannibal would need.
The treasure hunters were the first on the list. Captain Anthony Bright and his team weren't exactly going to star in the next National Geographic documentary on ancient historical treasures any time soon. They were in it for the money involved, plain and simple. Bright wasn't known to pull this kind of scam too often - screwing over a client gave one a bad reputation and could get one killed if they crossed the wrong guy.
There really had to be something about that Silmaril if it could get Bright to do that.
Face had managed to get the files on Bright and his crew fairly quickly. Bright had the look of a man who'd spent most of his life on the high seas. He was roughly Hannibal's age, early 40s, a tall, well-built man, with dark hair and gray eyes. Bright was a former Navy SEAL, did the mercenary route for a time and then turned to the salvage and treasure hunting business. His crew was composed of three men - Vance Bennings, who was his first mate on the ship, Donald Burke and Howard Meeker. Of the three, Vance Bennings and Donald Burke were the ones who had military in their background and like Bright initially worked as mercenaries. Bennings was also a Navy SEAL while Burke was once with the Marines.
Bennings was a huge guy, bald, with tattoos all over his body. Face had heard of this guy's reputation - he wasn't Bright's second just because he was probably the strongest man on the team. Donald Burke looked like he was just a kid fresh out of high school - very pretty, almost effeminate-looking, with reddish-blonde hair and pale blue eyes. Ollie said that he seemed so bright and perky most of the time but Burke made him oddly uneasy. The picture Face had of Burke showed him with this big grin, but that smile wasn't reaching those eyes, which were absolutely stone-cold and calculating.
Meeker was another big guy, built like a linebacker but he wasn't as huge as Vance. This one was the real muscle-head of the group, dull brown eyes staring lifelessly out of the photo Face had. Meeker had fought for a while as a boxer and in martial arts tournaments both legal and illegal. He never made it to the big leagues and usually ended up as a bodyguard or a hired thug. Meeker had previously served jail time for assault, usually because he was caught up in the fight and wasn't smart enough to get away. He seemed to be doing a lot better for himself since he had joined Bright.
Albert Pallando was another deal. This one was a genuine member of the British aristocracy. He was actually a baron with a title that dated back to the Tudor period. He was in his late 60s, looking perfectly distinguished and quite respectable. But it was known that he did dabble in the occult, hence his reputation for being eccentric, which was pretty much the rich people's version of crazy as a loon.
Morrie said that crazy as a loon was one thing, but having genuine Power and the intelligence to use it, made this guy a Major Problem.
He'd wondered why, if this Albert Pallando was some sort of evil wizard, couldn't they assume that Bright was dead by now, killed by the same Shadows or Wraiths, as Morrie referred to them, that had come after Ollie and his unlucky team of nerds. Feanor had explained that the holy power of the jewel would be protecting Bright and his team which meant the Wizard would also have to resort to mundane means in order to find them.
Which begged the question how they were going to be safe from the Wraiths. Murdock had the answer:
"Original Dark Lord," he pointed to Morrie.
"Hey! Former Original Dark Lord, thanks much!" Morrie protested and the red gleam in his eyes just gave Face the Cold Chills of Dread and Doom. He couldn't help it - Morrie just set off all his alarm bells ringing and the crazy thing was that the man seemed to just take it all in with amusement and understanding.
Face could live with that, though.
"High Elf," At that point, Murdock gestured to Feanor - Face really couldn't wrap his mind around the "Fred" nickname.
Feanor sighed. "You let us worry about Pallando and his spells. Do not fear, we will keep you safe as long as you are here."
"Once you get out there - we'll make sure you'll get everything you need," Morrie said with a feral grin. "I know a place where you can go."
And that was how Face found himself standing at this nice little bargain-bin bookstore quaintly named Bag End.
Face had been here before.
When he was a kid and he'd been placed with a foster home here in New York City, he had discovered this bookstore and had spent a lot of time here. Bag End's owner, Fro Baggins, was a sweet, kindly soul and had welcomed the lonely child Face had been, often offering a cup of tea and snacks, letting him spend as much time in there as he wanted. Often, Face helped Fro around the store. It was one of the places he missed the most when he finally ran off from that foster family and ended up with Mama Vee and his Aunts in New Orleans.
Later, he would come back here whenever he was on leave and the team found themselves in the city. He knew Hannibal liked books and he made it a point of looking for the titles Hannibal had mentioned he most wanted to read. Somehow, Fro always had them.
He didn't realize that Fro Baggins knew "Morrie" and was very well acquainted with the people at Club Denial.
The store was thankfully empty of customers when Face stepped in. And Fro was completely delighted to see him.
"Templeton! Good heavens, when I heard about you on the news -" And at that point, Fro moved with surprising swiftness, switching the store sign to "Closed," locking the door and drawing down the shades. Fro Baggins was a tiny guy - not more than four feet tall. Old habits kicked in immediately - Face helped him draw down a couple of window shades that were somehow set a bit higher than he could reach.
"Hey there, Fro…" Face began awkwardly. They were innocent and they had done nothing to be ashamed of but the news and all the speculations about what they did and didn't do pissed Face off sometimes. He just didn't like the idea of Fro having to hear about all that crap.
"Not to worry - we can never be too careful," Fro assured him, looking at him fondly and far more importantly without any judgment in his eyes. "Come on over and we'll have tea, lad, you're just in time for it."
They sat down at the counter - Fro always had tea and all sorts of pastries and other good stuff out.
"Thanks," Face said gratefully, sipping at the tea. It wasn't really his drink of choice but somehow, the tea was always good at Fro's.
The welcome was as warm and as genuine as ever. It was odd that Face had never really noticed that Fro didn't seem to change or age - he had looked exactly the same when they had first met - dark curly hair, youthful features, big blue eyes…
Slightly pointed ears.
"My dear Templeton," Fro said gently. "How can I help you?"
The ears. Not like Feanor's but coupled with the fact that Morrie sent him here and all that Face had learned recently…
"I think that the password for today is Morrie sent me," Face said, unable to help but stare at Fro's hands. He had lovely hands, really, delicately long fingers but one of the ring fingers was missing.
Face knew that story.
Fro paused just as he was about to take a sip of his tea. Dark blue eyes sharpened. "Morrie, is it?"
"Frodo of the Nine Fingers," Face blurted out.
The Hobbit smiled ruefully. "Oh, my. Cat's out of the bag, isn't it?"
Face felt like the floor had dropped out from under him. Again. "This is nuts."
"Oh, that was pretty much how I felt when Gandalf told me exactly what was the Ring Bilbo had left to me," Frodo Baggins chuckled. "Tell me your tale, my dear boy - I've a feeling that Morrie wants me to give you some very specific items that were left into my keeping."
And so Face did.
Morrie took one look at all the things Face brought back from Bag End and groaned. The latter actually had to call Murdock and B.A. over to help him. Man, some of these were heavy! They were still in their respective boxes and wrappings but somehow Morrie seemed to be dead sure on what they contained.
Well, Face knew - he was just waiting for B.A.'s reaction when they got to take all the stuff out. That was going to be priceless.
Morrie sighed. "Manwe's balls - Hobbit had to lay out the entire freakin' armory, eh?"
"Did you expect Frodo to do anything else?" Feanor asked archly. "I'm sure you heard the complaints when the others just gave all of these things into his safe-keeping. And they are going to need it."
"Yeah," Morrie looked rueful. "Well, they are going to be hunting for that sparkly toy of yours. We'd better let them loose in the playground so they can try their new stuff."
And at that, Murdock perked up. "Playground?"
"It was something that kid Urahara cooked up for us. Dead useful when we have Shinigami come to visit, don't pardon the pun. You and your friends'll love it, nephew."
"What is in these things?" B.A. had to ask.
"Toys," Morrie said and smiled.
Morrie wasn't kidding when he said "playground."
The place they were taken to was underground. Whoever did this designed it to be a wilderness terrain, with nothing but dry ground, dead trees and huge rocks. Clever lighting simulated sunlight while the upper walls and ceilings were painted in a near-perfect replica of the sky. It also gave the impression that the place was a lot larger than it actually was.
From the looks of things, Face would say that this area had been used quite extensively. The marks and damage and broken rocks pretty much resembled what a place would look like after a live-fire exercise. How on earth Morrie and Feanor managed to have friends who could do that and not bring down the New York Police Department on their heads was something Face didn't want to think about too closely.
"For your friend Bosco," Frodo had told Face, uncovering the huge axe from its coverings. "Dramborleg - once wielded by Tuor, the only Man to be counted among Elvenkind and allowed to dwell in Valinor. It had been lost for many thousands of years but was found again quite recently." His expression turned wry. "Just in the nick of time, I should say."
"Swords and axes," B.A. said flatly.
"Actually, Bosco," Murdock pointed out helpfully, "What we got here are three swords, a dagger and one huge mother of an axe."
"You've gotta be shittin' me," B.A. growled, glaring at Murdock and then Face, who was trying not to laugh. "We need serious weapons here - not something out of freakin' Warcraft!"
"Oh, if you're talking about guns, Bosco, that's covered and we'll be getting them," Face said airily. "But we are going to be fighting stuff out of Warcraft, remember?"
"Actually, we're talking more of the stuff that inspired Warcraft in the first place," Murdock said, still in helpful mode. "Guns ain't going to be much use to us if we have to fight Wraiths and Other Non-Human Nasties. Besides, this is cool!"
"The axe really is for B.A. here, by the way," Face pointed out to their disgruntled sergeant. "Frodo said you should give it a few swings and try throwing it at something….umm, preferably an inanimate object for starters."
"Uncle Morrie did say we could go wild!" Murdock cheered.
Hannibal was quiet. Hannibal was never quiet when they were messing around like this and it worried Face. Still, he was going to give his Colonel a while to get into the groove before he stepped in.
In the meantime, B.A. hefted the axe that was provided to him easily, thoughtfully giving it a few swings, testing the balance.
Face could understand where B.A. was coming from. It was just that there wasn't much call for swords and axes these days and in a real hand-to-hand fight, all of them tended to make things along the order of "take them down hard and fast before they get you." In other words, fancy high-kicking, cool-looking martial arts forms and other stunts that made Hollywood action heroes look good on the big screen were thrown out the window when one was in a real life or death struggle.
And then, B.A. swung back and threw the axe towards a huge boulder.
Dramborleg hit the thing and absolutely shattered it before mysteriously curving back to B.A. Face knew his physics and his weaponry. You could throw a boomerang that way but there was no way outside of fiction could you throw an axe like that and have it return to you.
"Jesus," Face breathed.
"Hammer of Thor, baby!" Murdock crowed.
B.A. looked at his new weapon with awe and then made his hilariously high-pitched giggle. "Hey, I like this."
"For your friend Murdock - Glamdring, Foe-hammer," Frodo said, his eyes twinkling. "Gandalf the White Wizard wielded this sword against Sauron and his creatures while the Ring endured. I'm sure your friend will wield it splendidly."
"Whee! Lookit the shiny!" Murdock said, drawing out the sword that was handed to him. It was a beautiful blade, straight out of a fantasy novel, gleaming briefly when Murdock had first drawn it out. It wasn't just pretty though - that weapon was definitely made for real war and could do some real damage in the right hands. Although he was bouncing as usual, Face saw that he had carefully made sure he was quite clear of everyone else before he tried a few practice swings.
And then, he proceeded to surprise the hell out of them by doing a few totally unfamiliar forms in a graceful and totally expert fashion. They were reminiscent of the kata moves that Face knew but not quite.
"Buddy, since when did you do the swords thing?" Face asked incredulously.
For the first time, Hannibal spoke up. "That was very good, Captain." Damn him, he didn't even look surprised!
Murdock blushed. "I got my Gramps and Grand-Uncle Elladan and Elrohir to show me. Wasn't a bad way to pass summer vacation."
"For you, my dear Templeton - Orcrist, Goblin-Cleaver," Frodo said. "This was once the sword of the great Dwarf-lord Thorin Oakenshield." The Hobbit smiled. "And I shall also give you my Sting. Sam would never forgive me if I didn't see you suitably prepared."
Face had been given two weapons - a sword and a dagger. Like Murdock's sword, both were exquisitely and finely made but weren't just made for decoration. Face being a skilled sharpshooter and sniper was part of his records for anyone who cared to look. But few people knew that he was also pretty good with a knife.
The sword, oddly enough, resembled a classic Japanese katana, although the hilt was somewhat different, of course. Face took up kenjutsu when he'd been living with Mama Vee, learning from a Japanese man with the oddest coloring Face had ever seen on an Asian - naturally red hair and violet eyes. Kenshin Himura was again one of those very few people that Face had learned to respect - this guy didn't take on wannabe dojo tigers. What he taught was less a sport than it was Face's first exposure to a skill that meant the difference between life and death on an ancient battlefield.
Kenshin was also one of the nicest, sweetest people alive…unless one pissed him off, in which case, they would find out how lethal a tiny Japanese redhead could be, even when wielding a sword with the sharp edge on the wrong side. What Face managed to learn served him well when he finally joined the Army and went to Ranger School.
"This sword belongs truly to your Colonel Smith - Anduril, Flame of the West, wielded by Aragorn Elessar, King of the Reunited Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor," Frodo said, shaking his head in amusement. "I'm sure poor Morrie was probably having conniptions when he first saw your Colonel."
While B.A., Face and Murdock were messing around with their new gear, Hannibal had been mostly quiet the entire time. It wasn't like him, especially when they were starting on a mission. In fact, Hannibal was usually the one full of energy - completely on the jazz and ready to go.
The Colonel had drawn the sword given to him from its scabbard, also carefully testing its weight and balance. His eyes took on a faraway expression, evidently lost in memory and looking oddly haunted.
"Damn," he sighed. "Never thought I'd have to use something like this again."
All right. Enough was enough - Face had to do something about this.
"Again, Hannibal?" Face threw it out like a challenge.
That jolted Hannibal back to the present. Somewhat. "Yeah, it's another one of those very long stories that I'll probably tell you after…"
Face's patented "What-you-got-bitches" grin was the only warning the older man had before steel flashed.
Kenshin had taught Face to be very, very fast.
But Hannibal wasn't a slouch either. Orcrist met Anduril, held by its wielder with strong, steady hands.
Face's grin grew bigger as he finished Hannibal's sentence: "…after I beat your ass into the ground, old man?"
That brought the sparkle back into his Colonel's eyes. "Keep dreaming, kid."
"Dayum," B.A. breathed.
Murdock's eyes gleamed. "Oh, this is goin' to be fun."
Steel kissed steel as the Colonel and his lieutenant faced off. The older man was all business, matching Face's speed easily, moving with a deft economy and finesse. Hannibal fought the way Kenshin had - like a man who'd really taken up the sword to fight in war.
"Not bad, kid," Hannibal praised, when they closed in on each other. "You do your teacher credit."
"It's not a lightsaber but it'll do," Face answered. "Been in any swordfights lately, boss?"
Hannibal gave him that familiar smile - the one that made him look like the world's most amused shark.
"Thought you were going to beat my ass first? I haven't even worked up a sweat."
"I think the whole Jedi thing's gone to your head, Hannibal. You're getting delusions of grandeur," Face teased.
They broke off and circled each other, all senses on alert. And then, they rushed at each other again, moving in their complicated, deadly dance of feint, thrust, jump, parry, blades missing flesh by inches and both of them knew they were doing this deliberately to each other, not really wanting to hurt the other man.
Hell, they were just having too much fun!
Finally, Hannibal managed to disarm Face, sending Orcrist flying out of his hands. The Colonel chuckled darkly and drew Face close enough so that he could feel the cold kiss of Anduril against his throat. "You were saying, Templeton?"
Face gave his own version of the shark-grin as he let Hannibal feel Sting against his ribs. "I'd say we call it a draw, Colonel."
"Shouldn't have drawn Facey-boy that close, Hannibal!" Murdock called out, blue-green eyes dancing wickedly.
"He's right, you know," Face pointed out helpfully, trying to believe that it was just the recent bit of exercise that was making his breath just come a little bit faster and not because Hannibal was close enough to kiss.
And to make matters worse, Hannibal bent closer and for just the briefest moment, Face's heart skipped a bit. But the other man only brought his mouth close to Face's ear and murmured, "Now where would the fun be in that?"
Face blinked and somehow, Hannibal was suddenly a few feet away, sheathing Anduril. Damn that whole no-we-are-not-teleporting trick - he knew how it worked too.
"I hate it when you do that!" He called.
"I know," was the smug reply. Hannibal's expression turned rueful as he evidently reached some sort of decision. "If you really want that story out of me, Face - you'd better get a few drinks into me first." He paused. "Maybe a couple more."
Face raised a brow. "Remind me to get you drunk ASAP and have my wicked way with you." Oh hell, why did he have to put it that way?
Murdock guffawed.
Hannibal evidently decided to ham it up again. "Templeton, if that was your intent, you only have to ask nicely! Taking advantage of a poor, old man like me…"
Murdock patted his shoulder commiseratingly, joining the comedy routine without hesitation. "Yeah, Hannibal, Facey's a cad, an utter cad!"
Yep - Face walked right into that, didn't he? No choice but to play along. Anyway, he was actually telling the truth!
"Two words, Hannibal - Silver. Fox." Face gave his commanding officer his sunniest, sweetest smile and was rewarded by Hannibal pinching the bridge of his nose, unsuccessfully hiding the blush that spread across his cheeks.
Goddamn - he made Hannibal Smith blush. Payback was sweet. Also, he liked the look on his Colonel too.
Murdock laughed all the harder.
B.A. rolled his eyes. "There they go, being all nuts again."
-tbc-
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Oh no, that whole swordfight wasn't a metaphor for foreplay… honest…. :P
"Kenshin, Urahara & Frodo" - They are sneaky bastards and they just slipped in under my radar.
For the record, Face doesn't know actual Hiten Mitsurugi moves, especially the ones that require you to do crazy-ass acrobatics. Kenshin pretty much taught him variations and stuff he's picked up over the "years" he's been hanging around. Kami-sama help us all, I think Kenshin's also picked up some stuff from certain Shinigami Captains! Sano calls it "Kenshin-Ryu" as a Very Bad Joke.
Yes, Bleach fans, Keisuke Urahara is very well acquainted with Morrie. Be afraid. Be very afraid. (facepalms)
Frodo Baggins has the best Big Puppy Eyes Look Evar. You guys expect me to resist THAT?
Hannibal's Sword Master(s?) - Yes, he did learn from a few Somebodies. (glares at her Other Muses, who are all studiously trying to look Very Innocent) Will the Vampires and Various Kinds of Immortals from my umpteen other fandoms please get the hell out? AUGH!
Orcrist - Although Glamdring was designed in the Peter Jackson movies to be your typical European/Western-style sword, I decided to do something different with Orcrist, which is actually described in The Hobbit as being twin to Glamdring. But since Face and Kenshin went in cahoots together (rolls eyes)… it makes sense to redesign Orcrist somewhat.
About Face, the Ducati & "Movie Canon"
I tend to just pick and choose what works from the so-called "movie canon" which isn't much, considering. I really LOL'd when they had Hannibal's height at 5'11. Maybe that was TV!Hannibal but Liam Neeson is 6'4 in real life and even the movie shows him clearly as the tallest member of the team. The ages work for me though - it makes sense for Hannibal to be in his early 40's and for the boys to be in their early 30's, roughly my age (Heh). The movie places the boys at the very beginning of their eventual adventuring as heroic "soldiers of fortune" - makes sense for them to be a lot younger at this point.
Honestly, when I look at the pre-movie comics, I just mentally jump the timeline or place Face in a totally different war where it would have made sense for him to hang around. Hence, I never explicitly gave a setting/timeline to the Ducati incident. If I want to run by the comics, the way they drew Face was 30-something Bradley Cooper and obviously, since he should be a hell of a lot younger then, I could only imagine him to be in his early twenties during that time period. That would make him about Hannibal's movie website age by the time the main story of the movie unfolds. Now assuming he lied about his age when he enlisted, then, military training or not, I have a hard time wrapping my head around the notion of 15-16 year old Face looking that old. Honest to God - I want to rewrite that comic. Remind me to do that one of these days, preferably ending with a Certain Someone getting a bad dose of Love at First Sight. Heh.
On a more serious note, I do love working with multiverses. Kenshin's cameo was actually inspired by Vathara's multi-fandom crossover that did blend Stargate/Rurouni Kenshin and some other fandoms that may have slipped by me. In my own multiverse, Kenshin's appearance in the 21st century means I have to really go back and work on my old RK WIPs from the ground up. Or maybe blend this with Bleach… (looks sheepish)
We Can Be Heroes
An A-Team Movie Verse & Club Denial Fan Fiction
by Darth Stitch
DISCLAIMER: See first chapter. Standard disclaimers apply.
PART II: Check on the Rep, Yep, Second to None
Templeton "Faceman" Peck is the best at what he does and he's damn proud of it.
Ask any Army Ranger and they'll give it to you straight: if you really need something, Face can get it for you. Supplies, gear, putting the fun in a party - Face could get it done. There are soldiers who still speak, in awed tones, about the time Face somehow managed to find the latest Ducati motorcycle model in the middle of a (insert favorite expletive here) war zone, trying to follow the orders (read: whims) of a rather sadistic general with a serious grudge. Face also managed to rescue the missing daughter of a trusted asset into the bargain.
Hannibal doesn't fondly refer to him as "my professor of procurement" for nothing.
But other than just supplies or gear - Face is also good at gathering information. Know your enemy is part of what Face calls "Hannibal Smith's How-To Manual" - he might gripe about it on occasion (read: when Face gets in over his head and Hannibal has to save his ass and will again deliver the Lecture of Doom afterwards) but he understands the reasoning behind it.
Face also knows the original of that saying: So it is said that if you know your enemies and know yourself, you can win a hundred battles without a single loss.
Yeah, Face has read Sun Tzu as well.
They might have just been dragged into a situation straight out of a fantasy film (complete with 3D Special Effects) but the mission parameters were pretty much the same. Getting good intel was the first thing to do and Face could get that job done no sweat. Eventually, he was able to assemble all the data Hannibal would need.
The treasure hunters were the first on the list. Captain Anthony Bright and his team weren't exactly going to star in the next National Geographic documentary on ancient historical treasures any time soon. They were in it for the money involved, plain and simple. Bright wasn't known to pull this kind of scam too often - screwing over a client gave one a bad reputation and could get one killed if they crossed the wrong guy.
There really had to be something about that Silmaril if it could get Bright to do that.
Face had managed to get the files on Bright and his crew fairly quickly. Bright had the look of a man who'd spent most of his life on the high seas. He was roughly Hannibal's age, early 40s, a tall, well-built man, with dark hair and gray eyes. Bright was a former Navy SEAL, did the mercenary route for a time and then turned to the salvage and treasure hunting business. His crew was composed of three men - Vance Bennings, who was his first mate on the ship, Donald Burke and Howard Meeker. Of the three, Vance Bennings and Donald Burke were the ones who had military in their background and like Bright initially worked as mercenaries. Bennings was also a Navy SEAL while Burke was once with the Marines.
Bennings was a huge guy, bald, with tattoos all over his body. Face had heard of this guy's reputation - he wasn't Bright's second just because he was probably the strongest man on the team. Donald Burke looked like he was just a kid fresh out of high school - very pretty, almost effeminate-looking, with reddish-blonde hair and pale blue eyes. Ollie said that he seemed so bright and perky most of the time but Burke made him oddly uneasy. The picture Face had of Burke showed him with this big grin, but that smile wasn't reaching those eyes, which were absolutely stone-cold and calculating.
Meeker was another big guy, built like a linebacker but he wasn't as huge as Vance. This one was the real muscle-head of the group, dull brown eyes staring lifelessly out of the photo Face had. Meeker had fought for a while as a boxer and in martial arts tournaments both legal and illegal. He never made it to the big leagues and usually ended up as a bodyguard or a hired thug. Meeker had previously served jail time for assault, usually because he was caught up in the fight and wasn't smart enough to get away. He seemed to be doing a lot better for himself since he had joined Bright.
Albert Pallando was another deal. This one was a genuine member of the British aristocracy. He was actually a baron with a title that dated back to the Tudor period. He was in his late 60s, looking perfectly distinguished and quite respectable. But it was known that he did dabble in the occult, hence his reputation for being eccentric, which was pretty much the rich people's version of crazy as a loon.
Morrie said that crazy as a loon was one thing, but having genuine Power and the intelligence to use it, made this guy a Major Problem.
He'd wondered why, if this Albert Pallando was some sort of evil wizard, couldn't they assume that Bright was dead by now, killed by the same Shadows or Wraiths, as Morrie referred to them, that had come after Ollie and his unlucky team of nerds. Feanor had explained that the holy power of the jewel would be protecting Bright and his team which meant the Wizard would also have to resort to mundane means in order to find them.
Which begged the question how they were going to be safe from the Wraiths. Murdock had the answer:
"Original Dark Lord," he pointed to Morrie.
"Hey! Former Original Dark Lord, thanks much!" Morrie protested and the red gleam in his eyes just gave Face the Cold Chills of Dread and Doom. He couldn't help it - Morrie just set off all his alarm bells ringing and the crazy thing was that the man seemed to just take it all in with amusement and understanding.
Face could live with that, though.
"High Elf," At that point, Murdock gestured to Feanor - Face really couldn't wrap his mind around the "Fred" nickname.
Feanor sighed. "You let us worry about Pallando and his spells. Do not fear, we will keep you safe as long as you are here."
"Once you get out there - we'll make sure you'll get everything you need," Morrie said with a feral grin. "I know a place where you can go."
And that was how Face found himself standing at this nice little bargain-bin bookstore quaintly named Bag End.
Face had been here before.
When he was a kid and he'd been placed with a foster home here in New York City, he had discovered this bookstore and had spent a lot of time here. Bag End's owner, Fro Baggins, was a sweet, kindly soul and had welcomed the lonely child Face had been, often offering a cup of tea and snacks, letting him spend as much time in there as he wanted. Often, Face helped Fro around the store. It was one of the places he missed the most when he finally ran off from that foster family and ended up with Mama Vee and his Aunts in New Orleans.
Later, he would come back here whenever he was on leave and the team found themselves in the city. He knew Hannibal liked books and he made it a point of looking for the titles Hannibal had mentioned he most wanted to read. Somehow, Fro always had them.
He didn't realize that Fro Baggins knew "Morrie" and was very well acquainted with the people at Club Denial.
The store was thankfully empty of customers when Face stepped in. And Fro was completely delighted to see him.
"Templeton! Good heavens, when I heard about you on the news -" And at that point, Fro moved with surprising swiftness, switching the store sign to "Closed," locking the door and drawing down the shades. Fro Baggins was a tiny guy - not more than four feet tall. Old habits kicked in immediately - Face helped him draw down a couple of window shades that were somehow set a bit higher than he could reach.
"Hey there, Fro…" Face began awkwardly. They were innocent and they had done nothing to be ashamed of but the news and all the speculations about what they did and didn't do pissed Face off sometimes. He just didn't like the idea of Fro having to hear about all that crap.
"Not to worry - we can never be too careful," Fro assured him, looking at him fondly and far more importantly without any judgment in his eyes. "Come on over and we'll have tea, lad, you're just in time for it."
They sat down at the counter - Fro always had tea and all sorts of pastries and other good stuff out.
"Thanks," Face said gratefully, sipping at the tea. It wasn't really his drink of choice but somehow, the tea was always good at Fro's.
The welcome was as warm and as genuine as ever. It was odd that Face had never really noticed that Fro didn't seem to change or age - he had looked exactly the same when they had first met - dark curly hair, youthful features, big blue eyes…
Slightly pointed ears.
"My dear Templeton," Fro said gently. "How can I help you?"
The ears. Not like Feanor's but coupled with the fact that Morrie sent him here and all that Face had learned recently…
"I think that the password for today is Morrie sent me," Face said, unable to help but stare at Fro's hands. He had lovely hands, really, delicately long fingers but one of the ring fingers was missing.
Face knew that story.
Fro paused just as he was about to take a sip of his tea. Dark blue eyes sharpened. "Morrie, is it?"
"Frodo of the Nine Fingers," Face blurted out.
The Hobbit smiled ruefully. "Oh, my. Cat's out of the bag, isn't it?"
Face felt like the floor had dropped out from under him. Again. "This is nuts."
"Oh, that was pretty much how I felt when Gandalf told me exactly what was the Ring Bilbo had left to me," Frodo Baggins chuckled. "Tell me your tale, my dear boy - I've a feeling that Morrie wants me to give you some very specific items that were left into my keeping."
And so Face did.
Morrie took one look at all the things Face brought back from Bag End and groaned. The latter actually had to call Murdock and B.A. over to help him. Man, some of these were heavy! They were still in their respective boxes and wrappings but somehow Morrie seemed to be dead sure on what they contained.
Well, Face knew - he was just waiting for B.A.'s reaction when they got to take all the stuff out. That was going to be priceless.
Morrie sighed. "Manwe's balls - Hobbit had to lay out the entire freakin' armory, eh?"
"Did you expect Frodo to do anything else?" Feanor asked archly. "I'm sure you heard the complaints when the others just gave all of these things into his safe-keeping. And they are going to need it."
"Yeah," Morrie looked rueful. "Well, they are going to be hunting for that sparkly toy of yours. We'd better let them loose in the playground so they can try their new stuff."
And at that, Murdock perked up. "Playground?"
"It was something that kid Urahara cooked up for us. Dead useful when we have Shinigami come to visit, don't pardon the pun. You and your friends'll love it, nephew."
"What is in these things?" B.A. had to ask.
"Toys," Morrie said and smiled.
Morrie wasn't kidding when he said "playground."
The place they were taken to was underground. Whoever did this designed it to be a wilderness terrain, with nothing but dry ground, dead trees and huge rocks. Clever lighting simulated sunlight while the upper walls and ceilings were painted in a near-perfect replica of the sky. It also gave the impression that the place was a lot larger than it actually was.
From the looks of things, Face would say that this area had been used quite extensively. The marks and damage and broken rocks pretty much resembled what a place would look like after a live-fire exercise. How on earth Morrie and Feanor managed to have friends who could do that and not bring down the New York Police Department on their heads was something Face didn't want to think about too closely.
"For your friend Bosco," Frodo had told Face, uncovering the huge axe from its coverings. "Dramborleg - once wielded by Tuor, the only Man to be counted among Elvenkind and allowed to dwell in Valinor. It had been lost for many thousands of years but was found again quite recently." His expression turned wry. "Just in the nick of time, I should say."
"Swords and axes," B.A. said flatly.
"Actually, Bosco," Murdock pointed out helpfully, "What we got here are three swords, a dagger and one huge mother of an axe."
"You've gotta be shittin' me," B.A. growled, glaring at Murdock and then Face, who was trying not to laugh. "We need serious weapons here - not something out of freakin' Warcraft!"
"Oh, if you're talking about guns, Bosco, that's covered and we'll be getting them," Face said airily. "But we are going to be fighting stuff out of Warcraft, remember?"
"Actually, we're talking more of the stuff that inspired Warcraft in the first place," Murdock said, still in helpful mode. "Guns ain't going to be much use to us if we have to fight Wraiths and Other Non-Human Nasties. Besides, this is cool!"
"The axe really is for B.A. here, by the way," Face pointed out to their disgruntled sergeant. "Frodo said you should give it a few swings and try throwing it at something….umm, preferably an inanimate object for starters."
"Uncle Morrie did say we could go wild!" Murdock cheered.
Hannibal was quiet. Hannibal was never quiet when they were messing around like this and it worried Face. Still, he was going to give his Colonel a while to get into the groove before he stepped in.
In the meantime, B.A. hefted the axe that was provided to him easily, thoughtfully giving it a few swings, testing the balance.
Face could understand where B.A. was coming from. It was just that there wasn't much call for swords and axes these days and in a real hand-to-hand fight, all of them tended to make things along the order of "take them down hard and fast before they get you." In other words, fancy high-kicking, cool-looking martial arts forms and other stunts that made Hollywood action heroes look good on the big screen were thrown out the window when one was in a real life or death struggle.
And then, B.A. swung back and threw the axe towards a huge boulder.
Dramborleg hit the thing and absolutely shattered it before mysteriously curving back to B.A. Face knew his physics and his weaponry. You could throw a boomerang that way but there was no way outside of fiction could you throw an axe like that and have it return to you.
"Jesus," Face breathed.
"Hammer of Thor, baby!" Murdock crowed.
B.A. looked at his new weapon with awe and then made his hilariously high-pitched giggle. "Hey, I like this."
"For your friend Murdock - Glamdring, Foe-hammer," Frodo said, his eyes twinkling. "Gandalf the White Wizard wielded this sword against Sauron and his creatures while the Ring endured. I'm sure your friend will wield it splendidly."
"Whee! Lookit the shiny!" Murdock said, drawing out the sword that was handed to him. It was a beautiful blade, straight out of a fantasy novel, gleaming briefly when Murdock had first drawn it out. It wasn't just pretty though - that weapon was definitely made for real war and could do some real damage in the right hands. Although he was bouncing as usual, Face saw that he had carefully made sure he was quite clear of everyone else before he tried a few practice swings.
And then, he proceeded to surprise the hell out of them by doing a few totally unfamiliar forms in a graceful and totally expert fashion. They were reminiscent of the kata moves that Face knew but not quite.
"Buddy, since when did you do the swords thing?" Face asked incredulously.
For the first time, Hannibal spoke up. "That was very good, Captain." Damn him, he didn't even look surprised!
Murdock blushed. "I got my Gramps and Grand-Uncle Elladan and Elrohir to show me. Wasn't a bad way to pass summer vacation."
"For you, my dear Templeton - Orcrist, Goblin-Cleaver," Frodo said. "This was once the sword of the great Dwarf-lord Thorin Oakenshield." The Hobbit smiled. "And I shall also give you my Sting. Sam would never forgive me if I didn't see you suitably prepared."
Face had been given two weapons - a sword and a dagger. Like Murdock's sword, both were exquisitely and finely made but weren't just made for decoration. Face being a skilled sharpshooter and sniper was part of his records for anyone who cared to look. But few people knew that he was also pretty good with a knife.
The sword, oddly enough, resembled a classic Japanese katana, although the hilt was somewhat different, of course. Face took up kenjutsu when he'd been living with Mama Vee, learning from a Japanese man with the oddest coloring Face had ever seen on an Asian - naturally red hair and violet eyes. Kenshin Himura was again one of those very few people that Face had learned to respect - this guy didn't take on wannabe dojo tigers. What he taught was less a sport than it was Face's first exposure to a skill that meant the difference between life and death on an ancient battlefield.
Kenshin was also one of the nicest, sweetest people alive…unless one pissed him off, in which case, they would find out how lethal a tiny Japanese redhead could be, even when wielding a sword with the sharp edge on the wrong side. What Face managed to learn served him well when he finally joined the Army and went to Ranger School.
"This sword belongs truly to your Colonel Smith - Anduril, Flame of the West, wielded by Aragorn Elessar, King of the Reunited Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor," Frodo said, shaking his head in amusement. "I'm sure poor Morrie was probably having conniptions when he first saw your Colonel."
While B.A., Face and Murdock were messing around with their new gear, Hannibal had been mostly quiet the entire time. It wasn't like him, especially when they were starting on a mission. In fact, Hannibal was usually the one full of energy - completely on the jazz and ready to go.
The Colonel had drawn the sword given to him from its scabbard, also carefully testing its weight and balance. His eyes took on a faraway expression, evidently lost in memory and looking oddly haunted.
"Damn," he sighed. "Never thought I'd have to use something like this again."
All right. Enough was enough - Face had to do something about this.
"Again, Hannibal?" Face threw it out like a challenge.
That jolted Hannibal back to the present. Somewhat. "Yeah, it's another one of those very long stories that I'll probably tell you after…"
Face's patented "What-you-got-bitches" grin was the only warning the older man had before steel flashed.
Kenshin had taught Face to be very, very fast.
But Hannibal wasn't a slouch either. Orcrist met Anduril, held by its wielder with strong, steady hands.
Face's grin grew bigger as he finished Hannibal's sentence: "…after I beat your ass into the ground, old man?"
That brought the sparkle back into his Colonel's eyes. "Keep dreaming, kid."
"Dayum," B.A. breathed.
Murdock's eyes gleamed. "Oh, this is goin' to be fun."
Steel kissed steel as the Colonel and his lieutenant faced off. The older man was all business, matching Face's speed easily, moving with a deft economy and finesse. Hannibal fought the way Kenshin had - like a man who'd really taken up the sword to fight in war.
"Not bad, kid," Hannibal praised, when they closed in on each other. "You do your teacher credit."
"It's not a lightsaber but it'll do," Face answered. "Been in any swordfights lately, boss?"
Hannibal gave him that familiar smile - the one that made him look like the world's most amused shark.
"Thought you were going to beat my ass first? I haven't even worked up a sweat."
"I think the whole Jedi thing's gone to your head, Hannibal. You're getting delusions of grandeur," Face teased.
They broke off and circled each other, all senses on alert. And then, they rushed at each other again, moving in their complicated, deadly dance of feint, thrust, jump, parry, blades missing flesh by inches and both of them knew they were doing this deliberately to each other, not really wanting to hurt the other man.
Hell, they were just having too much fun!
Finally, Hannibal managed to disarm Face, sending Orcrist flying out of his hands. The Colonel chuckled darkly and drew Face close enough so that he could feel the cold kiss of Anduril against his throat. "You were saying, Templeton?"
Face gave his own version of the shark-grin as he let Hannibal feel Sting against his ribs. "I'd say we call it a draw, Colonel."
"Shouldn't have drawn Facey-boy that close, Hannibal!" Murdock called out, blue-green eyes dancing wickedly.
"He's right, you know," Face pointed out helpfully, trying to believe that it was just the recent bit of exercise that was making his breath just come a little bit faster and not because Hannibal was close enough to kiss.
And to make matters worse, Hannibal bent closer and for just the briefest moment, Face's heart skipped a bit. But the other man only brought his mouth close to Face's ear and murmured, "Now where would the fun be in that?"
Face blinked and somehow, Hannibal was suddenly a few feet away, sheathing Anduril. Damn that whole no-we-are-not-teleporting trick - he knew how it worked too.
"I hate it when you do that!" He called.
"I know," was the smug reply. Hannibal's expression turned rueful as he evidently reached some sort of decision. "If you really want that story out of me, Face - you'd better get a few drinks into me first." He paused. "Maybe a couple more."
Face raised a brow. "Remind me to get you drunk ASAP and have my wicked way with you." Oh hell, why did he have to put it that way?
Murdock guffawed.
Hannibal evidently decided to ham it up again. "Templeton, if that was your intent, you only have to ask nicely! Taking advantage of a poor, old man like me…"
Murdock patted his shoulder commiseratingly, joining the comedy routine without hesitation. "Yeah, Hannibal, Facey's a cad, an utter cad!"
Yep - Face walked right into that, didn't he? No choice but to play along. Anyway, he was actually telling the truth!
"Two words, Hannibal - Silver. Fox." Face gave his commanding officer his sunniest, sweetest smile and was rewarded by Hannibal pinching the bridge of his nose, unsuccessfully hiding the blush that spread across his cheeks.
Goddamn - he made Hannibal Smith blush. Payback was sweet. Also, he liked the look on his Colonel too.
Murdock laughed all the harder.
B.A. rolled his eyes. "There they go, being all nuts again."
-tbc-
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Oh no, that whole swordfight wasn't a metaphor for foreplay… honest…. :P
"Kenshin, Urahara & Frodo" - They are sneaky bastards and they just slipped in under my radar.
For the record, Face doesn't know actual Hiten Mitsurugi moves, especially the ones that require you to do crazy-ass acrobatics. Kenshin pretty much taught him variations and stuff he's picked up over the "years" he's been hanging around. Kami-sama help us all, I think Kenshin's also picked up some stuff from certain Shinigami Captains! Sano calls it "Kenshin-Ryu" as a Very Bad Joke.
Yes, Bleach fans, Keisuke Urahara is very well acquainted with Morrie. Be afraid. Be very afraid. (facepalms)
Frodo Baggins has the best Big Puppy Eyes Look Evar. You guys expect me to resist THAT?
Hannibal's Sword Master(s?) - Yes, he did learn from a few Somebodies. (glares at her Other Muses, who are all studiously trying to look Very Innocent) Will the Vampires and Various Kinds of Immortals from my umpteen other fandoms please get the hell out? AUGH!
Orcrist - Although Glamdring was designed in the Peter Jackson movies to be your typical European/Western-style sword, I decided to do something different with Orcrist, which is actually described in The Hobbit as being twin to Glamdring. But since Face and Kenshin went in cahoots together (rolls eyes)… it makes sense to redesign Orcrist somewhat.
About Face, the Ducati & "Movie Canon"
I tend to just pick and choose what works from the so-called "movie canon" which isn't much, considering. I really LOL'd when they had Hannibal's height at 5'11. Maybe that was TV!Hannibal but Liam Neeson is 6'4 in real life and even the movie shows him clearly as the tallest member of the team. The ages work for me though - it makes sense for Hannibal to be in his early 40's and for the boys to be in their early 30's, roughly my age (Heh). The movie places the boys at the very beginning of their eventual adventuring as heroic "soldiers of fortune" - makes sense for them to be a lot younger at this point.
Honestly, when I look at the pre-movie comics, I just mentally jump the timeline or place Face in a totally different war where it would have made sense for him to hang around. Hence, I never explicitly gave a setting/timeline to the Ducati incident. If I want to run by the comics, the way they drew Face was 30-something Bradley Cooper and obviously, since he should be a hell of a lot younger then, I could only imagine him to be in his early twenties during that time period. That would make him about Hannibal's movie website age by the time the main story of the movie unfolds. Now assuming he lied about his age when he enlisted, then, military training or not, I have a hard time wrapping my head around the notion of 15-16 year old Face looking that old. Honest to God - I want to rewrite that comic. Remind me to do that one of these days, preferably ending with a Certain Someone getting a bad dose of Love at First Sight. Heh.
On a more serious note, I do love working with multiverses. Kenshin's cameo was actually inspired by Vathara's multi-fandom crossover that did blend Stargate/Rurouni Kenshin and some other fandoms that may have slipped by me. In my own multiverse, Kenshin's appearance in the 21st century means I have to really go back and work on my old RK WIPs from the ground up. Or maybe blend this with Bleach… (looks sheepish)