A Week With Mama B (H/F) (parts 1-5 of 9)
Originally written for panda77777 at ATeam_Prompts over here http://ateam-prompts.livejournal.com/19117.html?thread=15136685#t15136685
What happened when B.A.’s mum first meet the team especially Face. Maybe B.A. invites them for the holidays or she visits them when they first become a unit. Would like to see how Face would react to her because of his childhood, maybe confused how she treats him, wary because nobody’s every mothered him before and women only want one thing from him. How she finally wins him round I will leave that to the writer. Can be her POV about him and the rest of the team or anything I don't mind. I can imagine Murdock would be driving B.A. crazy with excitement and Hannibal happy to have another adult around.
I think this fits either movie or t.v. verse especially because Face would have been a bit younger in the t.v. verse. Can be gen or pairings H/F and BA/M I don’t mind.
Part One
There isn’t a mother alive who is more proud of her son than she is. Her beloved Scooter might have been a handful growing up, might have been thrown out of the army the first time around, might have been caught up in some seriously dodgy business in Mexico - to this day she doesn’t know the details, and honestly doesn’t want to - but once again he’s managed to turn his life around, proving himself to be the man she always knew he was. A brave, strong, resourceful man. A kind-hearted man, for all his gruff appearances - she’s seen him happily entertaining a group of preschoolers, reading them The Gruffalo, complete with all the different voices and sound effects.
Of course she worries about him, her son the Ranger. She is under no illusions as to the dangers of the job he does, but she also knows her son and his team make a lot of difference in a sometimes horrible world. She believes beyond a shadow of a doubt that they are the best at what they do - of course, Scooter can’t ever tell her much, too many classified missions, weeks out of contact with her, but she’s come to expect that by now.
Never much of a woman to sit around waiting for a man, even if that man is her own son, her life is packed with part time work and volunteering, friends and dinner parties and the occasional date, although no man will ever be able to live up to her Jackson. The love of her life had been killed back when Scooter had just been a little boy, in the wrong place at the wrong time, a gunshot to the heart. Quick and painless, they told her, though she wonders in the dark of the night how that can possibly be true. Surely, no matter how fast, having your heart ripped open would hurt. Hers still hurts now, after all these years.
Her son has been with this new team of his for nearly a year now, and in all that time he’s managed to make only a few brief visits to her tiny home in Chicago, the house where he grew up, the neighbourhood a little rougher around the edges now but still the only place she could ever truly call home. Scooter has told her amazing tales about his team, about the legend that is John ‘Hannibal’ Smith, this remarkable Colonel who managed to convince several Generals to ignore his dishonourable discharge and reinstate him in the Rangers. Some of the things this man has pulled off seem unbelievable to her, though she knows her baby wouldn’t lie to her, not about something as important as his job.
She hears stories about Hannibal’s XO, the man Scooter only ever calls Face, though when she asked, her son told her his real name is Templeton Peck - what on earth was his Mother thinking when she came up with that name, she wonders silently. Scooter describes Face, or Faceman, as some kind of miracle worker, the ultimate requisitions officer, although to be honest he sounds more like part ultimate conman and part ultimate charmer. She’s very curious to meet him, almost more curious than she is about meeting the last member of her son’s team, the ‘crazy fool pilot’ known only by his last name.
For all that Scooter does nothing but complain about Murdock, shamefully admitting that his first flight with the Captain had left him terrified of flying - of course she tells him it doesn’t matter, that she is still proud of him regardless - she can hear grudging respect in her son’s voice as he describes some of the manoeuvres the other man has pulled off. She senses there is a deep bond between her son and this other man; maybe this Murdock has becoming the younger brother she always wished she could have given her son.
Long since resigned to only seeing her son occasionally, his frequent phone calls are always a bright spot in her busy life. Midway through cooking her dinner one night - she’s being lazy tonight, a simple microwave curry with a large slice of homemade chocolate cake lined up for dessert - she hears the phone ring unexpectedly, and hurries through to the hall to pick it up. “Hello there?”
“Mama?”
“Well, if it isn’t my big brave son!” Settling her weight into the chair she keeps by the phone for just this occasion, she kicks off her slippers and feels a huge smile split her face. “How are you, baby?”
“Good, Mama. I’m good.” Scooter sounds fine, although the line isn’t as clear as it could be. “You doin’ okay?”
“All the better for hearing you,” she tells her baby boy, ignoring the ‘ping’ from the kitchen as her curry finishes cooking. “Are you back in the country now?”
“Yeah, only just, this afternoon.” The line fades out completely for a moment, and she strains to hear his deep voice. “… favour to ask?”
“A favour, Scooter?”
“Oh Mama, don’t call me that!” She smiles, knowing her son’s protests are only for show; probably the rest of his team are listening over his shoulder. “Wondered if you meant what you said last time, about havin’ the guys come visit?”
“Of course I did!” Every time she speaks to her boy, she tells him he has to bring his team to visit, even if only for a couple of days. “You all want to come stay? When were you thinkin’?”
“Um… Well, the thing is…”
“Don’t beat around the bush, Scooter. What’s the thing?”
A long pause before her son continues, and the line has cleared up enough that she can hear voices in the background. She smiles to think her earlier image is correct, Faceman or Murdock maybe hanging over Scooter’s shoulder. “Wondered if you’d mind if we, maybe, came up now? Like, we’d be there in a coupla days if we drive up? Hannibal’s place got to be fumigated, and we could stay on base, or rent somewhere, but I remembered you said - ”
“Baby, that’s fine!” She cuts her son off, delighted, already planning everything she’ll have to do to get ready for four hungry, tired Army Rangers visiting, fresh from a mission. “Of course that’s fine, in fact, it’s perfect! I finally get to meet this team of yours, after all your stories.” She can’t resist adding, “I’ll have the baby photos waiting as well.”
“No way, Mama!” She can hear the smile in her boy’s voice, hears laughter from whoever is with him. “Don’t you dare!”
“We’ll see, Scooter!” For a moment the line fades out again, and she worries its gone completely this time. “Scooter? You hear me, baby?”
A crackle and a pause, then her son comes back again. “Mama? Bad line, sorry, think I should maybe head off. We’ll be there Thursday, okay? You sure it’s okay?”
“I promise you it’s okay. I’ll look forward to it, son.” She raises her voice slightly, hoping he can still hear her. “I love you, Bosco.”
“Love you too, Mama.” And he’s gone. She sits for a moment, phone still in her hand, wafts of microwaved curry drifting through from the kitchen, a warm glow in her heart. Two days and she gets to see her baby boy again, for the first time in nearly three months, and this time she gets to see his whole team as well, these men who are his new friends, his new army family. And she can’t wait.
Part Two
She watches from the window as the sleek black van pulls up at her curb, shaking her head fondly. Stands to reason her Scooter would manage to get himself yet another ‘baby’; always the same type of van, always the same paint job, always the same over-protective attitude towards it, ever since he was first old enough to get his own vehicle. Her son the mechanic, with a big soft heart, in love with each and every one of his vans, always reluctant to let anyone else drive them. Sure enough, she spies the familiar figure of her boy behind the wheel, gesturing over his shoulder at someone in the rear seat as he guides his baby to a complete stop.
She’s seen photos of course, but she’s more than curious to see her son’s team in the flesh, so she keeps watching as they start to climb out, stretching after their long drive north. The long, lean figure of Hannibal Smith climbs out from the passenger side first, stretching his arms high above his head as he surveys the neighbourhood, keen eyes taking in the street and the house. Goodness, but he’s tall, taller than she had imagined, silver hair shining in the sunlight as he turns to pull open the back door of the van. The Colonel might be older than the rest of his team, but she can see he is all muscle, all power, his air of command obvious even to her as she observes quietly. This is a man who is used to being master of all he sees.
For a moment, the Colonel’s tall body blocks her view of whoever was sitting behind him, but then a blur of motion explodes out of the van and starts bouncing up and down on the sidewalk, hanging off Hannibal’s shoulders for a second before tearing free and doing a quick couple of laps around the van, throwing curious glances up at her house. Even from behind her double glazing, she can hear his voice, raised in excitement, and laughs out loud at Murdock’s antics. Looks like Scooter hadn’t been exaggerating when he told her about the pilot’s crazy behaviour, and she finds herself looking forward even more to spending some time in Murdock’s company -it’s been too long since she had that much energy herself, though the pilot is far too skinny in her eyes. She’ll have to feed him up while they are all here.
Murdock’s laps are stopped abruptly when her Scooter throws his door open wide, the pilot running straight into it in a cartoonish manner. Before she can begin to worry, he is up again, bouncing at her son’s heels as her boy stretches briefly, those impressive arms of his flexing, the tattoo she knows he is so very proud of on display. Scooter tries to look annoyed at his team mate’s behaviour, but she knows him too well, can see the smile he is trying to hide as he thumps his fist against the still-closed fourth door, starting to move towards her front gate with Murdock now hanging off his belt, swatting distractedly at his friend.
She watches, intrigued, as the last door finally opens, and another tall figure emerges into the daylight, reaching up to pull dark sunglasses from his eyes, leaning back against the van slightly as he looks around the area, much like Hannibal did. But where the Colonel seemed nothing but confident, that isn’t how she sees Templeton Peck. Wearing what are clearly designer jeans, jeans which hug his long, long legs perfectly - she may be old enough to be his mother but that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy the view - Templeton Peck seems a little less comfortable, folding his arms tightly across his chest as the Colonel walks around to his side.
Of course she can’t hear what the two men are talking about, but she doesn’t miss the way Hannibal drapes his arm across his XO’s shoulder, tugging him gently away from the van as he slides the door shut. For a moment she feels bad - maybe Face had other plans for his leave, maybe some girlfriend waiting back near their base - but something in the way the younger man leans into the Colonel’s embrace makes her pause. Interesting.
She’s pulled from her observation by a knock at her door, and she hurries quickly through to the hall, pausing to check her hair in the mirror - she knows her appearance doesn’t really matter to the men, but she still wants to make a good first impression. Through the glass she can see the bulk that is her boy, the shadowy wild-haired figure of Murdock still bouncing by his side, and with glee she throws the door open to greet her guests.
“Mama!” Scooter immediately scoops her up into his arms, and she feels every bone in her body relax as it always does, held securely in his strength. Her son is safe. Her son has come home to her again. She wraps her own arms as far around his muscular body as she can, marvelling once more at how her little boy is now so much taller than she is. He takes after his father, certainly, not her side of the family. Tiny, the lot of them.
“Oh baby,” she breathes into his chest, letting her eyes close for just a moment before she pulls back, holding tight to his waist as she looks him up and down. “You all in one piece? You okay?”
“I’m okay, Mama.” He leans down and kisses her forehead briefly. Far too briefly: she reaches up to cup his face and pulls him down to her, planting a long kiss on each cheek, knowing he will be burning with embarrassment in front of his team. “Missed you, Mama.”
“You too, baby.” With a huge smile she lets him pull back and away, all too aware of the buzzing presence by his side. Turning to Scooter’s teammate, she sees Murdock properly for the first time. “And who have we here?”
“Murdock, Ma’am!” Southern accent, not what she’d imagined for some reason. Wild eyes and even wilder hair, but the widest grin in place. “It’s so nice to meet you! The big guy here has told us so much about you!” The last statement is punctuated by an elbow to Scooter’s ribs, and her son clearly has to restrain himself from hitting back.
“Well it’s nice to meet you too, Murdock. And you must call me Mama, okay?” The hyperactive pilot is hopping from foot to foot and she can’t help but smile as she reaches out to pull him into a hug. Skinny he might be, but she can feel the strength in his stringy body as he locks his arms around her for a second before bouncing away, giggling a little.
Her Scooter tugs Murdock to one side, letting her step out of the house a little and towards the other half of his team. Colonel and Lieutenant are standing separately now, both fine specimens of men if she does say so, and the older man steps forwards first, hand outstretched. “Hannibal Smith, Ma’am. Thank you so much for having us as such short notice.”
The command tone in his warm voice is even more impressive in person - they’ve spoken briefly on the phone a few times, first when Scooter became a part of his team, more recently as his team drove across country - and she takes his hand only to pull him into a brief hug. He’s a good foot or so taller than she is, and, much like Murdock, she can feel the contained strength in his embrace. “Same rules for you too, Mister Colonel Hannibal Smith. Mama, okay?”
“Okay, Mama!” Behind her she can hear Scooter and Murdock laughing at their Colonel, but she ignores them to turn her attention to the last member of the team.
If she hadn’t seen him hesitate when he climbed down from the van, if she hadn’t seen Hannibal drape a supportive arm around his broad shoulders, she would never have known anything was wrong. Face is all confidence, huge white smile in place, startling blue eyes twinkling at her as he moves straight in for the anticipated hug, and she finds herself swallowed up in strong arms. “It’s great to finally meet you,” he says, stepping back after a moment. “I’d say I could see where BA gets his good looks from, but I think your son might just hit me for that!”
Oh, yes. This one’s a charmer alright. She can’t help but laugh softly as she replies, “I hope I look better in a dress than my Scooter, but I don’t want to know what you boys get up to in your own time!” Clearly startled by her reply, the young man hesitates a second before breaking out that huge smile again, and she continues, “Now what do I call you, son? You prefer Face, or Templeton?”
“Oh…” He seems stuck for a moment, blue eyes clouding with an unreadable emotion, and she wonders what she said wrong, but then Hannibal slips a hand onto his shoulder and the cloud is gone. “Just Face is fine, Ma’am.” And before she can correct him, tell him she’s ‘Mama’ to him as well, he turns to his colonel. “I’ll go grab the bags, Boss.”
“Sure thing, kid.” Hannibal offers her his arm as Face disappears back down to the van, and she bobs a curtsey in response to his bow. “Shall we, Mama?”
Her son has already taken Murdock inside - she can hear excited yelps from her front room, mingled with Scooter’s deeper voice - and she can’t help but smile, shaking her head a little as she and Hannibal follow them in. This could be a very interesting week indeed.
Part Three
It had been late in the day when her son and his team arrived and, as she expected, they were all exhausted from both their recent mission and their long drive across country - she had to struggle not to laugh at the way all the men teased her son gently about refusing to fly. She’d had a big pot of chilli waiting for them and, after several large helpings each, the younger men retired to sleep off their adventures, leaving her with a yawning Hannibal.
“You don’t have to do that,” she chides the Colonel as he carries plates from the table to her sink. “You get off to bed now as well. There’s time for this tomorrow. Time for everything tomorrow.”
But Hannibal just passes her the last plate before settling back at the table with his coffee, watching her as she potters around. She won’t wash up tonight but she hates leaving too much of a mess for the morning. “Thank you again for letting us visit. Bosco’s been trying to get us up here for some time, but - ”
“Oh, I know by now how rarely you Army boys get leave, and how precious it is when you do get some.” Finishing wiping the side down, she sits back opposite him. “I’m glad you all finally made it here, and I’m gonna spoil you all while I’ve got you.”
The Colonel smiles at her, his icy blue eyes sparkling with life despite his obvious tiredness. It’s hard to pin down his age, she thinks - that silver hair is deceptive, and the weathered lines on his face are clearly down to his outdoors lifestyle - but if she had to guess, she thinks he’s probably five or ten years younger than herself. “That was certainly the best chilli I’ve had in a long time.” She nods, pleased at the compliment. “No secret sauce.” She raises an eyebrow in question, and he laughs softly. “Murdock tends to get creative when he cooks. Don’t ask!”
“I won’t!” The pilot is certainly an interesting character. She’s already gathered that it’s his fault Hannibal’s house needs fumigating, though no one offered details. She thinks maybe, with Murdock, not asking for details might be the safest plan. “Does he always have so much energy?”
Apart from Murdock, conversation over dinner had been mostly quiet, and she could see the men were gradually winding down. Scooter asked her about her work, and about his aunts and cousins, and she let herself just be glad he was home, answering his questions and filling his plate whenever it started to look a little empty. The pilot had kept babbling away, chiming in with far too many questions of his own, while Face just seemed to be taking everything in, huge smile still in place but noticeably quieter than his teammates.
Hannibal had just watched his three boys with an indulgent smile, laying a calming hand on Murdock’s arm when the pilot got too excited, keeping an eye on his lieutenant, sharing a knowing smile with her across the table when the banter between the younger men got a little rowdy. She sensed then that this was a man who loved his team very much, even if he never said it aloud.
“Murdock is…” Hannibal pauses, tilting his head to one side. “Unique, I guess. Hard to describe him. The man’s a genius, and the things he can do with a plane, you wouldn’t believe. He’s unpredictable at the best of times, which is half the fun. But he’s the perfect fit with the rest of us - we’re none of us standard Army men.”
She can hear the honest pride in his voice as he speaks about his pilot, can see the memories flitting behind his sharp eyes. She knows he is tired but can’t resist asking more about his team. “And what about Face? Is he always that quiet? If I’m honest, I got the impression from my son that he and Murdock were as bad as each other.”
A different kind of smile passes over the Colonel’s face, and she wonders again about the relationship he shares with Face. The two men are clearly close, anyone could see that - she knows from Scooter that they have been working together for several years already - but she hasn’t quite yet pinned it down. It hadn’t struck her quite as a Father/Son relationship, but maybe she is still reading too much into that half-embrace out front when they arrived.
“Face is unique as well. He’ll relax; just give him a little time, Mama.” Hannibal’s voice is warm and deep, but he doesn’t elaborate, leaving her to wonder for a while longer.
She smiles back at him, shaking her head slowly. “You all certainly make an interesting team. I’m looking forward to getting to know you all a little, and spending some time with my Scooter of course.” Seeing how her son acts with his team around will be very interesting, though she can already see just how close all four men are.
“They’re good boys, all of them. Your son is doing so well, honestly, Mama. You should be very proud of him; I am.” That’s good to hear, and she is about to ask more when Hannibal tries to stifle a huge yawn.
“That’s enough, Hannibal, off to bed with you.” Leaning over, she lifts the mostly empty mug from the colonel’s big hands, smiling at him as he nods in defeat.
“Long drive,” he says as he stands, stretching once again to his full, impressive height. “Entertaining, though, with those three for company. Honestly, it felt like babysitting at times!”
She laughs out loud at that, easily able to picture it. “We’ll share the babysitting duties while you’re here, I promise!” As Hannibal nods again, that easy smile back in place, she asks one last time, “You’re sure you’re okay with the sleeping arrangements?”
She feels bad that she doesn’t have enough rooms for them, her tiny house only having three bedrooms, but the men assured her they’ve slept in far worse situations that these - she’s sure that’s true, but again she really doesn’t think she want the details. Murdock gleefully jumped at the thought of sleeping on the inflatable mattress in her Scooter’s room - her son seemed less gleeful at the prospect - while Hannibal and Face seem more than happy to share the double bed in her guest room, despite her offer of making up the sofa for one of them.
“Honestly, we’ll be fine, Mama. But thank you.” He offers a half-hearted little salute, ruined by another yawn. “Bed, I think. Sleep well.”
“Pleasant dreams, Hannibal.” She sits a while longer, just thinking, listening as he climbs the stairs and uses the bathroom, before going into the room where Face is most probably already asleep. Her old house has thin walls, and sadly offers little in the way of privacy. Made it easier to keep an eye on her Scooter when he was a teenager at least - difficult for him to sneak out at night, not that he ever tried. He was a good boy, really.
Shaking herself, she checks the locks on the doors and makes sure she turned the oven off, finally ready to head up the stairs and to bed herself. For the longest time after the younger men went up she heard giggles and laughter from Scooter’s room, and found herself wondering if maybe the pilot shouldn’t have had the sofa bed. Did the man’s energy never run out? But now, as she pauses to listen at their door briefly, there is only the sound of snoring, Murdock’s higher whiffles in contrast to her son’s deep bass snores.
She hears murmured voices from the guest room - seems Face was still awake after all - but soon the house falls silent, and she quietly readies herself for bed, wondering what the rest of the week will bring.
Part Four
“Nessun Dorma! Nessun Dorma!”
As she finishes her latest batch of pancakes, she wonders with a quiet laugh if Murdock realises how appropriate his song is at this time of the morning. She has to admit that the Captain has a more than acceptable singing voice, and he’s clearly as happy singing opera as he is pop, but her walls really are awfully thin and the other men haven’t stirred yet.
Although, as Murdock switches effortlessly to the latest Rihanna song, she has to think that maybe they wake up to this every morning.
“What can I do next, Mama B?” She startles a little to suddenly find the pilot at her side, bouncing on the balls of his feet. She’d been surprised but pleased when he had come bounding down the stairs earlier, amazed again by his energy, and he’d thrown himself into the role of kitchen helper, keeping her entertained with a constant stream of songs and voices and characters as he did last night’s dishes. “Can I help cook?”
“Why don’t you set the table for me, honey?” Hannibal’s comments about ‘creative cooking’ are ringing in her head, and she thinks maybe better safe than sorry for breakfast. Besides, she’d already planned a feast for her guests. “Maybe the rest of your team will be up soon. I know my Scooter doesn’t sleep in long while he’s here.”
Murdock sniggers a little, and she knows it’s the use of her son’s nickname. Still, she can’t break the habit, even if does cause his teammates to tease him a little. “Yeah, he and Hannibal might be up soon, but Facey isn’t much of a morning person. Bossman might drag him out of bed though, especially when he smells these amazing pancakes! And the bacon and the eggs and - ”
“Here you go, son!” She cuts him off as his voice starts to get louder, handing him some maple syrup and a pepper grinder, the first things she laid her hands on. He juggles them comically for a moment before spinning on the spot and all but dancing to the table. She’d thought that the washing up would have taken him longer than it did - she’s pleased that her work volunteering at the children’s home has given her experience coming up with distracting activities. “Why don’t you tell me a little about you? You’re the best pilot in the Army, from what I hear.”
“I know my way around a plane, Mama.” His southern accent, what she assumes is his natural accent, gets a little stronger as he continues, a hint of pride in his voice. “And a helicopter, and a glider, and a biplane, and pretty much anythin’ else that flies. It’s all I ever wanted to do, growin’ up. And I get to do it near ‘nough all the time.”
“You’re very lucky.”
“Lucky don’t even begin to cover it.” From the corner of her eye she watches as he pauses for a moment, hands frozen in mid-air as he sets out the cutlery. As she turns to see if he is alright, Murdock seems to shake himself a little. “Bein’ with Hannibal and Facey and BA - I mean, Scooter - it’s the best thing that ever happened to me since I left my Grandparents’ ranch. Hannibal’s just, wow, I mean… He’s the Boss, y’know? He know’s what’s what, and what to do about it.”
Leaning against her kitchen counter with one hip, she can almost see the mixed emotions playing over the pilot’s face as he slowly carries on setting the table. She files away the mention of his grandparents for future reference. “He seems like a good man,” she says softly.
“He’s the best. And Bosco too. I mean, you should see the things your son can do with a machine!” Energy peaking again, Murdock starts to switch all the cutlery around, knives moving to the left side instead of the right, and forks being turned the wrong way up. “I think I annoy him sometimes, but he never stays mad long. He’s my friend.”
“I’m glad, Murdock.” She turns back to her cooking as she asks, “Are you and Face friends as well?”
“Face is my best friend.” The note of absolute certainty in his voice makes her smile. “Not that BA isn’t my best friend too, but it’s just that Face gets me. He just gets me, and nothin’ bothers him. I know he wasn’t himself yesterday, but you’ll see he’s just the coolest guy.”
Their conversation is interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs, heavy footsteps that can only belong to her son. Removing the plates from the oven where she’s been warming them, she nearly drops them when he wraps his big arms around her waist, leaning around to plant a warm kiss on her cheek. “Mornin’, Mama.”
“Good morning, baby!” She starts serving up two loaded plates, smiling, listening to the easy banter behind her as the two men settle at the table. Banter that fades into happy silence as they both tuck eagerly into their food, and she starts to wonder if she’s made enough. Judging by the speed with which it all vanishes, she’s doubtful, especially when she finally hears another two sets of footsteps on the stairs.
Reloading Murdock and Bosco’s plates, she bids the second half of the team a good morning as she fetches another two warm plates. Hannibal looks more than ready for action although Face, just as Murdock had said, doesn’t seem to be much of a morning person, a little bleary-eyed and just as quiet as he was last night. He sits next to Hannibal rather than at the end of the table where Murdock had laid a place, subtly dragging the cutlery across.
With their plates all full for now, mugs filled with strong coffee, she finally settles at the table herself, a simple plate of eggs and toast all she wants for breakfast. “This is fantastic, Mama,” her Scooter mumbles enthusiastically, mouth full of bacon, and she laughs when Murdock pokes him from across the table.
“Don’t speak with your mouth full, Scooter!”
Her son swallows hard before retorting, “Don’t you call me that, crazy! Or I’ll come up with some creative new names for you!”
“Boys.” Hannibal doesn’t need to add anything else, the warning clear from his tone, though Face tries and fails to cover his smile with a faked cough. She tries to catch the younger man’s gaze to smile back, though bright blue eyes meet hers for only a second before he blinks and looks back down to his plate.
Maybe it’s time to change the subject already. “So, how did you all sleep? Room sharing okay?”
“Slept like a log, thanks, Mama,” Scooter starts. “Don’t think a grenade going off would’ve woken me.”
“Forget the grenade, your snoring didn’t even wake me!” Murdock throws at him with a wide grin. “Best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages! How about you two? Facey?”
“We slept really well, thanks.” Something seems to switch inside the lieutenant, and suddenly he is all smiles, leaning back in his chair as he glances sideways at Hannibal. “Bed was more than big enough, right, Boss?”
“Right, kid.” Hannibal’s smile is warm as he bumps shoulders with the younger man before turning that smile towards her. “And this breakfast is really fabulous, Mama. Bosco wasn’t kidding when he said you were quite the chef.”
“It’ll be something a whole lot simpler tonight, I’m afraid,” she says, pleased with the compliment. “I have to go into work for a couple of hours this afternoon, but I managed to get a few days off after today. Figured you all wouldn’t mind a quiet day after your mission and that long drive.”
“Ooh! Ooh!” Murdock is bouncing is his chair, hand held comically up in the air, waiting for attention. “Can I cook tonight? I’m a good cook, honest! I’d love to cook for you, Mama!”
“No special sauce, you fool! You ain’t gonna use that stuff if you’re cooking for my Mother!” Before she can object - she is meant to be spoiling them, after all - Scooter laughs loudly, with both Hannibal and Face joining in after a moment. “Don’t worry, Mama, I’ll take him to the shops, make sure he cooks something sensible.”
“I’m wounded, Bosco! Wounded!” Murdock makes a show of clutching his chest in mock pain before bouncing to his feet, passing around the back of her chair to where her son sits. He drapes himself around Scooter’s shoulders and leans close to speak into his ear, though his words - now with a distinct British accent - are loud enough to carry to the whole table. “You think I would hurt your wonderful Mother? Sensible, you say, my man? I’ll show you sensible…”
“Murdock, buddy!” Giving up on getting a word in edgeways, content and amused to watch her son and his team bounce off each other, she watches as Face sits forward again. She smiles to see that, at some point, Hannibal has draped an arm across his shoulders, and the handsome young man seems a little more at ease. “Go easy, man. It’s too early to get too excited about being ‘sensible’ or not.”
The pilot responds instantly to his friend, peeling himself off a very relieved Scooter and shuffling back to his chair. “Sorry, Mama,” he mumbles, but before she can reassure him he picks himself right up. “I can be sensible, honest. Sometimes!”
“I’m sure you can, baby!” This time Face holds her gaze when she looks over at him, flashing her that mega-watt grin of his as she continues. “Dinner would be lovely, but don’t you all go to no trouble for me, okay? You’re here to rest and let me look after you. That’s Mama’s job.”
A chorus of ‘yes, Mama’ from three of the four men at her table - she can’t miss Face’s simple nod, still watching him as she is - and there is silence for a second before the younger men start talking over each other again, Hannibal smiling indulgently, arm still resting over his Lieutenant’s shoulder, rolling a cigar between his fingers.
As their easy conversation washes over her and around her, she feels she is beginning to understand just how well this team works, how her son fits into the unit. Face seems more animated talking with his friends, and she wonders again what plans this sudden visit to Chicago has disrupted for the handsome Ranger, and how she can make him feel more comfortable. Tonight, she decides, after work she’s going to try to talk to him a little more. She’s seen flashes of the charmer she expected to meet, but her instincts tell her there is much more to this young man than she has seen so far.
Part Five
“Hey, kid. What are you doing out here?”
“Thought I’d get some fresh air, boss.” Hannibal and Face’s words drift through the open window to her clearly as she stands making herself a cup of tea in the kitchen, and she shakes her head a little, frowning as she remembers how quickly the younger man had left her once they were by themselves. And the evening had been going so well.
Sitting in her living room with Scooter and Hannibal, listening to the laughter from the kitchen as Face and Murdock washed up, she thought that she could really get used to having her son and his team around. When she’d arrived back from work that evening, the wonderful smells of cooking filling her house had been more than welcome, though Hannibal had intercepted her in the hallway and suggested that, maybe, she shouldn’t go into the kitchen just yet. Laughing him off, she had gone on in anyway and nearly died to see how much mess Murdock had created, though the pilot assured her he would clean up afterwards.
Dinner had been more than worth the mess, though, and after a good night’s sleep plus a quiet day, the team had been even more animated than previously. Murdock’s energy was truly limitless, and Scooter’s gruff attitude towards his friend didn’t fool her at all - she saw the laughter he tried to hide as the pilot bounced from character to character over dinner, keeping them all entertained.
“You okay, Face?” She can hear the concern in Hannibal’s voice, can imagine him slipping an arm around the younger man’s shoulders as he has done so often this evening. She’s glad for Face’s sake that Hannibal at least has spotted something is wrong, and isn’t afraid to say something
“Yeah, I guess. I just…” Face’s voice is quiet, doesn’t carry as well as his Colonel’s, and she knows she should leave. Nothing good ever comes from eavesdropping. But as Face continues, she can’t pull herself away. “She’s so lovely, and everything’s so lovely, and I feel bad that I can’t relax. I don’t know why I’m so on edge.”
‘On edge’ is one way to put it. She’s tried hard not to take it personally, but Face has resisted all her efforts to get to know him, actually flinching away from her when she dared to squeeze his shoulder in passing. In the company of his team he’s cheerful enough, and he’s certainly been nothing but polite to her, all smiles and the model gentleman. He laughed as hard as Murdock and Hannibal when she pulled out Scooter’s baby photos - she’d forgotten just how cute her son was when he blushed that hard - and, even though he hadn’t joined in when the others told her a little about their own pasts, she’d thought he was beginning to relax.
But, as soon as Murdock and Scooter went out to get more cheesecake - the two she had made for the team didn’t last as long as she thought - and Hannibal slipped out to the garden for a cigar, Face had only lasted a couple of minutes with her before making his excuses and fleeing after his colonel.
“Stop worrying so much, Face.” A pause, and she pictures the older man taking a long drag from his cigar. “You don’t need to try so hard. It’s BA’s mother, not the Spanish Inquisition.”
“I know, but I don’t know how to just be myself. I mean, you know my standard approaches to meeting new women…”
“You can’t flirt with BA’s Mama, kid. Somehow I expect Bosco would beat you to a pulp if you tried.” A note of humour in that commanding voice and yes, she can picture her son’s reaction all too well. Scooter’s always been a little overprotective of her. “What’s bothering you so much?”
A longer pause, and she knows there is no way she can leave now. What has she been doing wrong? Where would the younger man rather be right now? In the back of her mind she still expects he had plans with some girl back near their base, but Face’s quiet words take her completely by surprise. “It shouldn’t bother me. All the little touches, all the care she’s taken. Checking if we need extra blankets, remembering how I take my coffee, always asking if we’re hungry or thirsty. Showing so much interest in all of us - I mean, I just expected she would want to be with Bosco all the time, she’s his Mom. But it’s like - ”
“Like she’s mothering us all? Mothering you?”
A very quiet, “Yeah.”
The two men fall silent, and she leans heavily on the counter. She has been doing all Face said and more, without even thinking about it. That’s just how she is, as natural as breathing. These men are Scooter’s ‘family’, so by extension they are her family too. Her boys. It never occurred to her that, just maybe, they wouldn’t want to be taken care of while they visited.
“Temp.” Hannibal’s words are so quiet she has to strain to hear them. “I never even thought… I know you’ve never had that, never had a family, never known a Mother’s care, but it doesn’t matter. I keep telling you that.”
Never had a family? An orphan perhaps, she wonders, heart breaking a little for the handsome young officer. Why hadn’t her Scooter told her? But then immediately she shrugs off that thought - it isn’t any of her business, and she knows that most guys don’t talk about things like this. Not the things that matter.
Thankfully the Colonel seems different, and she dares to move a little closer to the window as he continues. “You’ve grown into a wonderful, generous, brave, loving man without knowing your Mother. I’m so proud of you, kid.” It’s dark outside and for a moment she can’t quite make out the two men. Her eye is caught by the glow of Hannibal’s cigar, and it takes her a second to realise what she is seeing, a wide smile splitting her face as she finally puts the pieces together. It seems so obvious to her now, and it makes perfect sense.
Hannibal has his arms around Face, the younger man held close against his chest. Every mother’s instinct she has tells her this is more than friendly comfort, and sure enough, a second later the colonel pulls back a fraction, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lieutenant’s lips. After another moment they break apart a little, Face rubbing at his eyes, Hannibal’s arms loose around his waist now.
“Thanks, John. I know I’m being stupid…”
“Not at all.” She ducks back from the window again as they turn towards the house. “You can’t help how you feel, Temp. But she’s a Mother, Bosco’s mother, and I for one am enjoying having someone else take care of you boys for a time. And I think she’s really enjoying fussing over us.” She is indeed, and now she knows a little more about this complicated teammate of her sons, she starts to revise some of the tentative plans she has made for the rest of the boys’ visit. She had planned to pamper the men as much as they would let her, but clearly Face will need some special attention, and careful handling.
She knows without a doubt the handsome young man wouldn’t want sympathy. But she can’t help feeling sorry for Templeton Peck, not knowing how to accept her Motherly attention purely because he’s never had any in his young life. She burns with curiosity about his childhood - a children’s home? foster care? - but all her questions about his life will stop now. If he wants to tell her anything about his past then he can do it in his own time. But that won’t stop her fussing over him while they are all in her home.
She doesn’t think she could stop even if she wanted to. Murdock, she knows, is loving her attention, and she has to admit she’s loving having the crazy pilot around, especially when she sees him with Scooter. Hannibal is obviously older than the three boys but she knows, even without hearing his words earlier, that the colonel needs a break from looking after his three handfuls. The colonel needs a mother’s touch, and she’s more than happy to give it. He’s her boy too.
Scooter, of course, for all his supposed embarrassment at her behaviour, is still her little boy. She might ease off on the baby photos, but she’ll shower him with love and attention while she has him. As for Face, at least she knows now it isn’t personal, nothing she’s done wrong. Just things she’s done without thinking that he wasn’t ready for. So she’ll just have to be a little more creative - he is one of her sons now, and she’ll mother him as much as he will let her.
And clearly she’ll have to work out a way to give Hannibal and Face some proper time alone together while they are with her, sooner rather than later.
Parts 6-9 of 9
What happened when B.A.’s mum first meet the team especially Face. Maybe B.A. invites them for the holidays or she visits them when they first become a unit. Would like to see how Face would react to her because of his childhood, maybe confused how she treats him, wary because nobody’s every mothered him before and women only want one thing from him. How she finally wins him round I will leave that to the writer. Can be her POV about him and the rest of the team or anything I don't mind. I can imagine Murdock would be driving B.A. crazy with excitement and Hannibal happy to have another adult around.
I think this fits either movie or t.v. verse especially because Face would have been a bit younger in the t.v. verse. Can be gen or pairings H/F and BA/M I don’t mind.
Part One
There isn’t a mother alive who is more proud of her son than she is. Her beloved Scooter might have been a handful growing up, might have been thrown out of the army the first time around, might have been caught up in some seriously dodgy business in Mexico - to this day she doesn’t know the details, and honestly doesn’t want to - but once again he’s managed to turn his life around, proving himself to be the man she always knew he was. A brave, strong, resourceful man. A kind-hearted man, for all his gruff appearances - she’s seen him happily entertaining a group of preschoolers, reading them The Gruffalo, complete with all the different voices and sound effects.
Of course she worries about him, her son the Ranger. She is under no illusions as to the dangers of the job he does, but she also knows her son and his team make a lot of difference in a sometimes horrible world. She believes beyond a shadow of a doubt that they are the best at what they do - of course, Scooter can’t ever tell her much, too many classified missions, weeks out of contact with her, but she’s come to expect that by now.
Never much of a woman to sit around waiting for a man, even if that man is her own son, her life is packed with part time work and volunteering, friends and dinner parties and the occasional date, although no man will ever be able to live up to her Jackson. The love of her life had been killed back when Scooter had just been a little boy, in the wrong place at the wrong time, a gunshot to the heart. Quick and painless, they told her, though she wonders in the dark of the night how that can possibly be true. Surely, no matter how fast, having your heart ripped open would hurt. Hers still hurts now, after all these years.
Her son has been with this new team of his for nearly a year now, and in all that time he’s managed to make only a few brief visits to her tiny home in Chicago, the house where he grew up, the neighbourhood a little rougher around the edges now but still the only place she could ever truly call home. Scooter has told her amazing tales about his team, about the legend that is John ‘Hannibal’ Smith, this remarkable Colonel who managed to convince several Generals to ignore his dishonourable discharge and reinstate him in the Rangers. Some of the things this man has pulled off seem unbelievable to her, though she knows her baby wouldn’t lie to her, not about something as important as his job.
She hears stories about Hannibal’s XO, the man Scooter only ever calls Face, though when she asked, her son told her his real name is Templeton Peck - what on earth was his Mother thinking when she came up with that name, she wonders silently. Scooter describes Face, or Faceman, as some kind of miracle worker, the ultimate requisitions officer, although to be honest he sounds more like part ultimate conman and part ultimate charmer. She’s very curious to meet him, almost more curious than she is about meeting the last member of her son’s team, the ‘crazy fool pilot’ known only by his last name.
For all that Scooter does nothing but complain about Murdock, shamefully admitting that his first flight with the Captain had left him terrified of flying - of course she tells him it doesn’t matter, that she is still proud of him regardless - she can hear grudging respect in her son’s voice as he describes some of the manoeuvres the other man has pulled off. She senses there is a deep bond between her son and this other man; maybe this Murdock has becoming the younger brother she always wished she could have given her son.
Long since resigned to only seeing her son occasionally, his frequent phone calls are always a bright spot in her busy life. Midway through cooking her dinner one night - she’s being lazy tonight, a simple microwave curry with a large slice of homemade chocolate cake lined up for dessert - she hears the phone ring unexpectedly, and hurries through to the hall to pick it up. “Hello there?”
“Mama?”
“Well, if it isn’t my big brave son!” Settling her weight into the chair she keeps by the phone for just this occasion, she kicks off her slippers and feels a huge smile split her face. “How are you, baby?”
“Good, Mama. I’m good.” Scooter sounds fine, although the line isn’t as clear as it could be. “You doin’ okay?”
“All the better for hearing you,” she tells her baby boy, ignoring the ‘ping’ from the kitchen as her curry finishes cooking. “Are you back in the country now?”
“Yeah, only just, this afternoon.” The line fades out completely for a moment, and she strains to hear his deep voice. “… favour to ask?”
“A favour, Scooter?”
“Oh Mama, don’t call me that!” She smiles, knowing her son’s protests are only for show; probably the rest of his team are listening over his shoulder. “Wondered if you meant what you said last time, about havin’ the guys come visit?”
“Of course I did!” Every time she speaks to her boy, she tells him he has to bring his team to visit, even if only for a couple of days. “You all want to come stay? When were you thinkin’?”
“Um… Well, the thing is…”
“Don’t beat around the bush, Scooter. What’s the thing?”
A long pause before her son continues, and the line has cleared up enough that she can hear voices in the background. She smiles to think her earlier image is correct, Faceman or Murdock maybe hanging over Scooter’s shoulder. “Wondered if you’d mind if we, maybe, came up now? Like, we’d be there in a coupla days if we drive up? Hannibal’s place got to be fumigated, and we could stay on base, or rent somewhere, but I remembered you said - ”
“Baby, that’s fine!” She cuts her son off, delighted, already planning everything she’ll have to do to get ready for four hungry, tired Army Rangers visiting, fresh from a mission. “Of course that’s fine, in fact, it’s perfect! I finally get to meet this team of yours, after all your stories.” She can’t resist adding, “I’ll have the baby photos waiting as well.”
“No way, Mama!” She can hear the smile in her boy’s voice, hears laughter from whoever is with him. “Don’t you dare!”
“We’ll see, Scooter!” For a moment the line fades out again, and she worries its gone completely this time. “Scooter? You hear me, baby?”
A crackle and a pause, then her son comes back again. “Mama? Bad line, sorry, think I should maybe head off. We’ll be there Thursday, okay? You sure it’s okay?”
“I promise you it’s okay. I’ll look forward to it, son.” She raises her voice slightly, hoping he can still hear her. “I love you, Bosco.”
“Love you too, Mama.” And he’s gone. She sits for a moment, phone still in her hand, wafts of microwaved curry drifting through from the kitchen, a warm glow in her heart. Two days and she gets to see her baby boy again, for the first time in nearly three months, and this time she gets to see his whole team as well, these men who are his new friends, his new army family. And she can’t wait.
Part Two
She watches from the window as the sleek black van pulls up at her curb, shaking her head fondly. Stands to reason her Scooter would manage to get himself yet another ‘baby’; always the same type of van, always the same paint job, always the same over-protective attitude towards it, ever since he was first old enough to get his own vehicle. Her son the mechanic, with a big soft heart, in love with each and every one of his vans, always reluctant to let anyone else drive them. Sure enough, she spies the familiar figure of her boy behind the wheel, gesturing over his shoulder at someone in the rear seat as he guides his baby to a complete stop.
She’s seen photos of course, but she’s more than curious to see her son’s team in the flesh, so she keeps watching as they start to climb out, stretching after their long drive north. The long, lean figure of Hannibal Smith climbs out from the passenger side first, stretching his arms high above his head as he surveys the neighbourhood, keen eyes taking in the street and the house. Goodness, but he’s tall, taller than she had imagined, silver hair shining in the sunlight as he turns to pull open the back door of the van. The Colonel might be older than the rest of his team, but she can see he is all muscle, all power, his air of command obvious even to her as she observes quietly. This is a man who is used to being master of all he sees.
For a moment, the Colonel’s tall body blocks her view of whoever was sitting behind him, but then a blur of motion explodes out of the van and starts bouncing up and down on the sidewalk, hanging off Hannibal’s shoulders for a second before tearing free and doing a quick couple of laps around the van, throwing curious glances up at her house. Even from behind her double glazing, she can hear his voice, raised in excitement, and laughs out loud at Murdock’s antics. Looks like Scooter hadn’t been exaggerating when he told her about the pilot’s crazy behaviour, and she finds herself looking forward even more to spending some time in Murdock’s company -it’s been too long since she had that much energy herself, though the pilot is far too skinny in her eyes. She’ll have to feed him up while they are all here.
Murdock’s laps are stopped abruptly when her Scooter throws his door open wide, the pilot running straight into it in a cartoonish manner. Before she can begin to worry, he is up again, bouncing at her son’s heels as her boy stretches briefly, those impressive arms of his flexing, the tattoo she knows he is so very proud of on display. Scooter tries to look annoyed at his team mate’s behaviour, but she knows him too well, can see the smile he is trying to hide as he thumps his fist against the still-closed fourth door, starting to move towards her front gate with Murdock now hanging off his belt, swatting distractedly at his friend.
She watches, intrigued, as the last door finally opens, and another tall figure emerges into the daylight, reaching up to pull dark sunglasses from his eyes, leaning back against the van slightly as he looks around the area, much like Hannibal did. But where the Colonel seemed nothing but confident, that isn’t how she sees Templeton Peck. Wearing what are clearly designer jeans, jeans which hug his long, long legs perfectly - she may be old enough to be his mother but that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy the view - Templeton Peck seems a little less comfortable, folding his arms tightly across his chest as the Colonel walks around to his side.
Of course she can’t hear what the two men are talking about, but she doesn’t miss the way Hannibal drapes his arm across his XO’s shoulder, tugging him gently away from the van as he slides the door shut. For a moment she feels bad - maybe Face had other plans for his leave, maybe some girlfriend waiting back near their base - but something in the way the younger man leans into the Colonel’s embrace makes her pause. Interesting.
She’s pulled from her observation by a knock at her door, and she hurries quickly through to the hall, pausing to check her hair in the mirror - she knows her appearance doesn’t really matter to the men, but she still wants to make a good first impression. Through the glass she can see the bulk that is her boy, the shadowy wild-haired figure of Murdock still bouncing by his side, and with glee she throws the door open to greet her guests.
“Mama!” Scooter immediately scoops her up into his arms, and she feels every bone in her body relax as it always does, held securely in his strength. Her son is safe. Her son has come home to her again. She wraps her own arms as far around his muscular body as she can, marvelling once more at how her little boy is now so much taller than she is. He takes after his father, certainly, not her side of the family. Tiny, the lot of them.
“Oh baby,” she breathes into his chest, letting her eyes close for just a moment before she pulls back, holding tight to his waist as she looks him up and down. “You all in one piece? You okay?”
“I’m okay, Mama.” He leans down and kisses her forehead briefly. Far too briefly: she reaches up to cup his face and pulls him down to her, planting a long kiss on each cheek, knowing he will be burning with embarrassment in front of his team. “Missed you, Mama.”
“You too, baby.” With a huge smile she lets him pull back and away, all too aware of the buzzing presence by his side. Turning to Scooter’s teammate, she sees Murdock properly for the first time. “And who have we here?”
“Murdock, Ma’am!” Southern accent, not what she’d imagined for some reason. Wild eyes and even wilder hair, but the widest grin in place. “It’s so nice to meet you! The big guy here has told us so much about you!” The last statement is punctuated by an elbow to Scooter’s ribs, and her son clearly has to restrain himself from hitting back.
“Well it’s nice to meet you too, Murdock. And you must call me Mama, okay?” The hyperactive pilot is hopping from foot to foot and she can’t help but smile as she reaches out to pull him into a hug. Skinny he might be, but she can feel the strength in his stringy body as he locks his arms around her for a second before bouncing away, giggling a little.
Her Scooter tugs Murdock to one side, letting her step out of the house a little and towards the other half of his team. Colonel and Lieutenant are standing separately now, both fine specimens of men if she does say so, and the older man steps forwards first, hand outstretched. “Hannibal Smith, Ma’am. Thank you so much for having us as such short notice.”
The command tone in his warm voice is even more impressive in person - they’ve spoken briefly on the phone a few times, first when Scooter became a part of his team, more recently as his team drove across country - and she takes his hand only to pull him into a brief hug. He’s a good foot or so taller than she is, and, much like Murdock, she can feel the contained strength in his embrace. “Same rules for you too, Mister Colonel Hannibal Smith. Mama, okay?”
“Okay, Mama!” Behind her she can hear Scooter and Murdock laughing at their Colonel, but she ignores them to turn her attention to the last member of the team.
If she hadn’t seen him hesitate when he climbed down from the van, if she hadn’t seen Hannibal drape a supportive arm around his broad shoulders, she would never have known anything was wrong. Face is all confidence, huge white smile in place, startling blue eyes twinkling at her as he moves straight in for the anticipated hug, and she finds herself swallowed up in strong arms. “It’s great to finally meet you,” he says, stepping back after a moment. “I’d say I could see where BA gets his good looks from, but I think your son might just hit me for that!”
Oh, yes. This one’s a charmer alright. She can’t help but laugh softly as she replies, “I hope I look better in a dress than my Scooter, but I don’t want to know what you boys get up to in your own time!” Clearly startled by her reply, the young man hesitates a second before breaking out that huge smile again, and she continues, “Now what do I call you, son? You prefer Face, or Templeton?”
“Oh…” He seems stuck for a moment, blue eyes clouding with an unreadable emotion, and she wonders what she said wrong, but then Hannibal slips a hand onto his shoulder and the cloud is gone. “Just Face is fine, Ma’am.” And before she can correct him, tell him she’s ‘Mama’ to him as well, he turns to his colonel. “I’ll go grab the bags, Boss.”
“Sure thing, kid.” Hannibal offers her his arm as Face disappears back down to the van, and she bobs a curtsey in response to his bow. “Shall we, Mama?”
Her son has already taken Murdock inside - she can hear excited yelps from her front room, mingled with Scooter’s deeper voice - and she can’t help but smile, shaking her head a little as she and Hannibal follow them in. This could be a very interesting week indeed.
Part Three
It had been late in the day when her son and his team arrived and, as she expected, they were all exhausted from both their recent mission and their long drive across country - she had to struggle not to laugh at the way all the men teased her son gently about refusing to fly. She’d had a big pot of chilli waiting for them and, after several large helpings each, the younger men retired to sleep off their adventures, leaving her with a yawning Hannibal.
“You don’t have to do that,” she chides the Colonel as he carries plates from the table to her sink. “You get off to bed now as well. There’s time for this tomorrow. Time for everything tomorrow.”
But Hannibal just passes her the last plate before settling back at the table with his coffee, watching her as she potters around. She won’t wash up tonight but she hates leaving too much of a mess for the morning. “Thank you again for letting us visit. Bosco’s been trying to get us up here for some time, but - ”
“Oh, I know by now how rarely you Army boys get leave, and how precious it is when you do get some.” Finishing wiping the side down, she sits back opposite him. “I’m glad you all finally made it here, and I’m gonna spoil you all while I’ve got you.”
The Colonel smiles at her, his icy blue eyes sparkling with life despite his obvious tiredness. It’s hard to pin down his age, she thinks - that silver hair is deceptive, and the weathered lines on his face are clearly down to his outdoors lifestyle - but if she had to guess, she thinks he’s probably five or ten years younger than herself. “That was certainly the best chilli I’ve had in a long time.” She nods, pleased at the compliment. “No secret sauce.” She raises an eyebrow in question, and he laughs softly. “Murdock tends to get creative when he cooks. Don’t ask!”
“I won’t!” The pilot is certainly an interesting character. She’s already gathered that it’s his fault Hannibal’s house needs fumigating, though no one offered details. She thinks maybe, with Murdock, not asking for details might be the safest plan. “Does he always have so much energy?”
Apart from Murdock, conversation over dinner had been mostly quiet, and she could see the men were gradually winding down. Scooter asked her about her work, and about his aunts and cousins, and she let herself just be glad he was home, answering his questions and filling his plate whenever it started to look a little empty. The pilot had kept babbling away, chiming in with far too many questions of his own, while Face just seemed to be taking everything in, huge smile still in place but noticeably quieter than his teammates.
Hannibal had just watched his three boys with an indulgent smile, laying a calming hand on Murdock’s arm when the pilot got too excited, keeping an eye on his lieutenant, sharing a knowing smile with her across the table when the banter between the younger men got a little rowdy. She sensed then that this was a man who loved his team very much, even if he never said it aloud.
“Murdock is…” Hannibal pauses, tilting his head to one side. “Unique, I guess. Hard to describe him. The man’s a genius, and the things he can do with a plane, you wouldn’t believe. He’s unpredictable at the best of times, which is half the fun. But he’s the perfect fit with the rest of us - we’re none of us standard Army men.”
She can hear the honest pride in his voice as he speaks about his pilot, can see the memories flitting behind his sharp eyes. She knows he is tired but can’t resist asking more about his team. “And what about Face? Is he always that quiet? If I’m honest, I got the impression from my son that he and Murdock were as bad as each other.”
A different kind of smile passes over the Colonel’s face, and she wonders again about the relationship he shares with Face. The two men are clearly close, anyone could see that - she knows from Scooter that they have been working together for several years already - but she hasn’t quite yet pinned it down. It hadn’t struck her quite as a Father/Son relationship, but maybe she is still reading too much into that half-embrace out front when they arrived.
“Face is unique as well. He’ll relax; just give him a little time, Mama.” Hannibal’s voice is warm and deep, but he doesn’t elaborate, leaving her to wonder for a while longer.
She smiles back at him, shaking her head slowly. “You all certainly make an interesting team. I’m looking forward to getting to know you all a little, and spending some time with my Scooter of course.” Seeing how her son acts with his team around will be very interesting, though she can already see just how close all four men are.
“They’re good boys, all of them. Your son is doing so well, honestly, Mama. You should be very proud of him; I am.” That’s good to hear, and she is about to ask more when Hannibal tries to stifle a huge yawn.
“That’s enough, Hannibal, off to bed with you.” Leaning over, she lifts the mostly empty mug from the colonel’s big hands, smiling at him as he nods in defeat.
“Long drive,” he says as he stands, stretching once again to his full, impressive height. “Entertaining, though, with those three for company. Honestly, it felt like babysitting at times!”
She laughs out loud at that, easily able to picture it. “We’ll share the babysitting duties while you’re here, I promise!” As Hannibal nods again, that easy smile back in place, she asks one last time, “You’re sure you’re okay with the sleeping arrangements?”
She feels bad that she doesn’t have enough rooms for them, her tiny house only having three bedrooms, but the men assured her they’ve slept in far worse situations that these - she’s sure that’s true, but again she really doesn’t think she want the details. Murdock gleefully jumped at the thought of sleeping on the inflatable mattress in her Scooter’s room - her son seemed less gleeful at the prospect - while Hannibal and Face seem more than happy to share the double bed in her guest room, despite her offer of making up the sofa for one of them.
“Honestly, we’ll be fine, Mama. But thank you.” He offers a half-hearted little salute, ruined by another yawn. “Bed, I think. Sleep well.”
“Pleasant dreams, Hannibal.” She sits a while longer, just thinking, listening as he climbs the stairs and uses the bathroom, before going into the room where Face is most probably already asleep. Her old house has thin walls, and sadly offers little in the way of privacy. Made it easier to keep an eye on her Scooter when he was a teenager at least - difficult for him to sneak out at night, not that he ever tried. He was a good boy, really.
Shaking herself, she checks the locks on the doors and makes sure she turned the oven off, finally ready to head up the stairs and to bed herself. For the longest time after the younger men went up she heard giggles and laughter from Scooter’s room, and found herself wondering if maybe the pilot shouldn’t have had the sofa bed. Did the man’s energy never run out? But now, as she pauses to listen at their door briefly, there is only the sound of snoring, Murdock’s higher whiffles in contrast to her son’s deep bass snores.
She hears murmured voices from the guest room - seems Face was still awake after all - but soon the house falls silent, and she quietly readies herself for bed, wondering what the rest of the week will bring.
Part Four
“Nessun Dorma! Nessun Dorma!”
As she finishes her latest batch of pancakes, she wonders with a quiet laugh if Murdock realises how appropriate his song is at this time of the morning. She has to admit that the Captain has a more than acceptable singing voice, and he’s clearly as happy singing opera as he is pop, but her walls really are awfully thin and the other men haven’t stirred yet.
Although, as Murdock switches effortlessly to the latest Rihanna song, she has to think that maybe they wake up to this every morning.
“What can I do next, Mama B?” She startles a little to suddenly find the pilot at her side, bouncing on the balls of his feet. She’d been surprised but pleased when he had come bounding down the stairs earlier, amazed again by his energy, and he’d thrown himself into the role of kitchen helper, keeping her entertained with a constant stream of songs and voices and characters as he did last night’s dishes. “Can I help cook?”
“Why don’t you set the table for me, honey?” Hannibal’s comments about ‘creative cooking’ are ringing in her head, and she thinks maybe better safe than sorry for breakfast. Besides, she’d already planned a feast for her guests. “Maybe the rest of your team will be up soon. I know my Scooter doesn’t sleep in long while he’s here.”
Murdock sniggers a little, and she knows it’s the use of her son’s nickname. Still, she can’t break the habit, even if does cause his teammates to tease him a little. “Yeah, he and Hannibal might be up soon, but Facey isn’t much of a morning person. Bossman might drag him out of bed though, especially when he smells these amazing pancakes! And the bacon and the eggs and - ”
“Here you go, son!” She cuts him off as his voice starts to get louder, handing him some maple syrup and a pepper grinder, the first things she laid her hands on. He juggles them comically for a moment before spinning on the spot and all but dancing to the table. She’d thought that the washing up would have taken him longer than it did - she’s pleased that her work volunteering at the children’s home has given her experience coming up with distracting activities. “Why don’t you tell me a little about you? You’re the best pilot in the Army, from what I hear.”
“I know my way around a plane, Mama.” His southern accent, what she assumes is his natural accent, gets a little stronger as he continues, a hint of pride in his voice. “And a helicopter, and a glider, and a biplane, and pretty much anythin’ else that flies. It’s all I ever wanted to do, growin’ up. And I get to do it near ‘nough all the time.”
“You’re very lucky.”
“Lucky don’t even begin to cover it.” From the corner of her eye she watches as he pauses for a moment, hands frozen in mid-air as he sets out the cutlery. As she turns to see if he is alright, Murdock seems to shake himself a little. “Bein’ with Hannibal and Facey and BA - I mean, Scooter - it’s the best thing that ever happened to me since I left my Grandparents’ ranch. Hannibal’s just, wow, I mean… He’s the Boss, y’know? He know’s what’s what, and what to do about it.”
Leaning against her kitchen counter with one hip, she can almost see the mixed emotions playing over the pilot’s face as he slowly carries on setting the table. She files away the mention of his grandparents for future reference. “He seems like a good man,” she says softly.
“He’s the best. And Bosco too. I mean, you should see the things your son can do with a machine!” Energy peaking again, Murdock starts to switch all the cutlery around, knives moving to the left side instead of the right, and forks being turned the wrong way up. “I think I annoy him sometimes, but he never stays mad long. He’s my friend.”
“I’m glad, Murdock.” She turns back to her cooking as she asks, “Are you and Face friends as well?”
“Face is my best friend.” The note of absolute certainty in his voice makes her smile. “Not that BA isn’t my best friend too, but it’s just that Face gets me. He just gets me, and nothin’ bothers him. I know he wasn’t himself yesterday, but you’ll see he’s just the coolest guy.”
Their conversation is interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs, heavy footsteps that can only belong to her son. Removing the plates from the oven where she’s been warming them, she nearly drops them when he wraps his big arms around her waist, leaning around to plant a warm kiss on her cheek. “Mornin’, Mama.”
“Good morning, baby!” She starts serving up two loaded plates, smiling, listening to the easy banter behind her as the two men settle at the table. Banter that fades into happy silence as they both tuck eagerly into their food, and she starts to wonder if she’s made enough. Judging by the speed with which it all vanishes, she’s doubtful, especially when she finally hears another two sets of footsteps on the stairs.
Reloading Murdock and Bosco’s plates, she bids the second half of the team a good morning as she fetches another two warm plates. Hannibal looks more than ready for action although Face, just as Murdock had said, doesn’t seem to be much of a morning person, a little bleary-eyed and just as quiet as he was last night. He sits next to Hannibal rather than at the end of the table where Murdock had laid a place, subtly dragging the cutlery across.
With their plates all full for now, mugs filled with strong coffee, she finally settles at the table herself, a simple plate of eggs and toast all she wants for breakfast. “This is fantastic, Mama,” her Scooter mumbles enthusiastically, mouth full of bacon, and she laughs when Murdock pokes him from across the table.
“Don’t speak with your mouth full, Scooter!”
Her son swallows hard before retorting, “Don’t you call me that, crazy! Or I’ll come up with some creative new names for you!”
“Boys.” Hannibal doesn’t need to add anything else, the warning clear from his tone, though Face tries and fails to cover his smile with a faked cough. She tries to catch the younger man’s gaze to smile back, though bright blue eyes meet hers for only a second before he blinks and looks back down to his plate.
Maybe it’s time to change the subject already. “So, how did you all sleep? Room sharing okay?”
“Slept like a log, thanks, Mama,” Scooter starts. “Don’t think a grenade going off would’ve woken me.”
“Forget the grenade, your snoring didn’t even wake me!” Murdock throws at him with a wide grin. “Best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages! How about you two? Facey?”
“We slept really well, thanks.” Something seems to switch inside the lieutenant, and suddenly he is all smiles, leaning back in his chair as he glances sideways at Hannibal. “Bed was more than big enough, right, Boss?”
“Right, kid.” Hannibal’s smile is warm as he bumps shoulders with the younger man before turning that smile towards her. “And this breakfast is really fabulous, Mama. Bosco wasn’t kidding when he said you were quite the chef.”
“It’ll be something a whole lot simpler tonight, I’m afraid,” she says, pleased with the compliment. “I have to go into work for a couple of hours this afternoon, but I managed to get a few days off after today. Figured you all wouldn’t mind a quiet day after your mission and that long drive.”
“Ooh! Ooh!” Murdock is bouncing is his chair, hand held comically up in the air, waiting for attention. “Can I cook tonight? I’m a good cook, honest! I’d love to cook for you, Mama!”
“No special sauce, you fool! You ain’t gonna use that stuff if you’re cooking for my Mother!” Before she can object - she is meant to be spoiling them, after all - Scooter laughs loudly, with both Hannibal and Face joining in after a moment. “Don’t worry, Mama, I’ll take him to the shops, make sure he cooks something sensible.”
“I’m wounded, Bosco! Wounded!” Murdock makes a show of clutching his chest in mock pain before bouncing to his feet, passing around the back of her chair to where her son sits. He drapes himself around Scooter’s shoulders and leans close to speak into his ear, though his words - now with a distinct British accent - are loud enough to carry to the whole table. “You think I would hurt your wonderful Mother? Sensible, you say, my man? I’ll show you sensible…”
“Murdock, buddy!” Giving up on getting a word in edgeways, content and amused to watch her son and his team bounce off each other, she watches as Face sits forward again. She smiles to see that, at some point, Hannibal has draped an arm across his shoulders, and the handsome young man seems a little more at ease. “Go easy, man. It’s too early to get too excited about being ‘sensible’ or not.”
The pilot responds instantly to his friend, peeling himself off a very relieved Scooter and shuffling back to his chair. “Sorry, Mama,” he mumbles, but before she can reassure him he picks himself right up. “I can be sensible, honest. Sometimes!”
“I’m sure you can, baby!” This time Face holds her gaze when she looks over at him, flashing her that mega-watt grin of his as she continues. “Dinner would be lovely, but don’t you all go to no trouble for me, okay? You’re here to rest and let me look after you. That’s Mama’s job.”
A chorus of ‘yes, Mama’ from three of the four men at her table - she can’t miss Face’s simple nod, still watching him as she is - and there is silence for a second before the younger men start talking over each other again, Hannibal smiling indulgently, arm still resting over his Lieutenant’s shoulder, rolling a cigar between his fingers.
As their easy conversation washes over her and around her, she feels she is beginning to understand just how well this team works, how her son fits into the unit. Face seems more animated talking with his friends, and she wonders again what plans this sudden visit to Chicago has disrupted for the handsome Ranger, and how she can make him feel more comfortable. Tonight, she decides, after work she’s going to try to talk to him a little more. She’s seen flashes of the charmer she expected to meet, but her instincts tell her there is much more to this young man than she has seen so far.
Part Five
“Hey, kid. What are you doing out here?”
“Thought I’d get some fresh air, boss.” Hannibal and Face’s words drift through the open window to her clearly as she stands making herself a cup of tea in the kitchen, and she shakes her head a little, frowning as she remembers how quickly the younger man had left her once they were by themselves. And the evening had been going so well.
Sitting in her living room with Scooter and Hannibal, listening to the laughter from the kitchen as Face and Murdock washed up, she thought that she could really get used to having her son and his team around. When she’d arrived back from work that evening, the wonderful smells of cooking filling her house had been more than welcome, though Hannibal had intercepted her in the hallway and suggested that, maybe, she shouldn’t go into the kitchen just yet. Laughing him off, she had gone on in anyway and nearly died to see how much mess Murdock had created, though the pilot assured her he would clean up afterwards.
Dinner had been more than worth the mess, though, and after a good night’s sleep plus a quiet day, the team had been even more animated than previously. Murdock’s energy was truly limitless, and Scooter’s gruff attitude towards his friend didn’t fool her at all - she saw the laughter he tried to hide as the pilot bounced from character to character over dinner, keeping them all entertained.
“You okay, Face?” She can hear the concern in Hannibal’s voice, can imagine him slipping an arm around the younger man’s shoulders as he has done so often this evening. She’s glad for Face’s sake that Hannibal at least has spotted something is wrong, and isn’t afraid to say something
“Yeah, I guess. I just…” Face’s voice is quiet, doesn’t carry as well as his Colonel’s, and she knows she should leave. Nothing good ever comes from eavesdropping. But as Face continues, she can’t pull herself away. “She’s so lovely, and everything’s so lovely, and I feel bad that I can’t relax. I don’t know why I’m so on edge.”
‘On edge’ is one way to put it. She’s tried hard not to take it personally, but Face has resisted all her efforts to get to know him, actually flinching away from her when she dared to squeeze his shoulder in passing. In the company of his team he’s cheerful enough, and he’s certainly been nothing but polite to her, all smiles and the model gentleman. He laughed as hard as Murdock and Hannibal when she pulled out Scooter’s baby photos - she’d forgotten just how cute her son was when he blushed that hard - and, even though he hadn’t joined in when the others told her a little about their own pasts, she’d thought he was beginning to relax.
But, as soon as Murdock and Scooter went out to get more cheesecake - the two she had made for the team didn’t last as long as she thought - and Hannibal slipped out to the garden for a cigar, Face had only lasted a couple of minutes with her before making his excuses and fleeing after his colonel.
“Stop worrying so much, Face.” A pause, and she pictures the older man taking a long drag from his cigar. “You don’t need to try so hard. It’s BA’s mother, not the Spanish Inquisition.”
“I know, but I don’t know how to just be myself. I mean, you know my standard approaches to meeting new women…”
“You can’t flirt with BA’s Mama, kid. Somehow I expect Bosco would beat you to a pulp if you tried.” A note of humour in that commanding voice and yes, she can picture her son’s reaction all too well. Scooter’s always been a little overprotective of her. “What’s bothering you so much?”
A longer pause, and she knows there is no way she can leave now. What has she been doing wrong? Where would the younger man rather be right now? In the back of her mind she still expects he had plans with some girl back near their base, but Face’s quiet words take her completely by surprise. “It shouldn’t bother me. All the little touches, all the care she’s taken. Checking if we need extra blankets, remembering how I take my coffee, always asking if we’re hungry or thirsty. Showing so much interest in all of us - I mean, I just expected she would want to be with Bosco all the time, she’s his Mom. But it’s like - ”
“Like she’s mothering us all? Mothering you?”
A very quiet, “Yeah.”
The two men fall silent, and she leans heavily on the counter. She has been doing all Face said and more, without even thinking about it. That’s just how she is, as natural as breathing. These men are Scooter’s ‘family’, so by extension they are her family too. Her boys. It never occurred to her that, just maybe, they wouldn’t want to be taken care of while they visited.
“Temp.” Hannibal’s words are so quiet she has to strain to hear them. “I never even thought… I know you’ve never had that, never had a family, never known a Mother’s care, but it doesn’t matter. I keep telling you that.”
Never had a family? An orphan perhaps, she wonders, heart breaking a little for the handsome young officer. Why hadn’t her Scooter told her? But then immediately she shrugs off that thought - it isn’t any of her business, and she knows that most guys don’t talk about things like this. Not the things that matter.
Thankfully the Colonel seems different, and she dares to move a little closer to the window as he continues. “You’ve grown into a wonderful, generous, brave, loving man without knowing your Mother. I’m so proud of you, kid.” It’s dark outside and for a moment she can’t quite make out the two men. Her eye is caught by the glow of Hannibal’s cigar, and it takes her a second to realise what she is seeing, a wide smile splitting her face as she finally puts the pieces together. It seems so obvious to her now, and it makes perfect sense.
Hannibal has his arms around Face, the younger man held close against his chest. Every mother’s instinct she has tells her this is more than friendly comfort, and sure enough, a second later the colonel pulls back a fraction, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lieutenant’s lips. After another moment they break apart a little, Face rubbing at his eyes, Hannibal’s arms loose around his waist now.
“Thanks, John. I know I’m being stupid…”
“Not at all.” She ducks back from the window again as they turn towards the house. “You can’t help how you feel, Temp. But she’s a Mother, Bosco’s mother, and I for one am enjoying having someone else take care of you boys for a time. And I think she’s really enjoying fussing over us.” She is indeed, and now she knows a little more about this complicated teammate of her sons, she starts to revise some of the tentative plans she has made for the rest of the boys’ visit. She had planned to pamper the men as much as they would let her, but clearly Face will need some special attention, and careful handling.
She knows without a doubt the handsome young man wouldn’t want sympathy. But she can’t help feeling sorry for Templeton Peck, not knowing how to accept her Motherly attention purely because he’s never had any in his young life. She burns with curiosity about his childhood - a children’s home? foster care? - but all her questions about his life will stop now. If he wants to tell her anything about his past then he can do it in his own time. But that won’t stop her fussing over him while they are all in her home.
She doesn’t think she could stop even if she wanted to. Murdock, she knows, is loving her attention, and she has to admit she’s loving having the crazy pilot around, especially when she sees him with Scooter. Hannibal is obviously older than the three boys but she knows, even without hearing his words earlier, that the colonel needs a break from looking after his three handfuls. The colonel needs a mother’s touch, and she’s more than happy to give it. He’s her boy too.
Scooter, of course, for all his supposed embarrassment at her behaviour, is still her little boy. She might ease off on the baby photos, but she’ll shower him with love and attention while she has him. As for Face, at least she knows now it isn’t personal, nothing she’s done wrong. Just things she’s done without thinking that he wasn’t ready for. So she’ll just have to be a little more creative - he is one of her sons now, and she’ll mother him as much as he will let her.
And clearly she’ll have to work out a way to give Hannibal and Face some proper time alone together while they are with her, sooner rather than later.
Parts 6-9 of 9