Disclaimer: The A-Team and its members are the creations of Stephen J
Cannell and Frank Lupo. They belong to Universal and Stephen J Cannell
Productions. No copyright infringement intended. If coincidence occurs
it is just that: coincidence.
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The Return of the Jammies
by Javelin
After checking the perimeter, carefully inspecting the sacred
jammies-chamber for clues, washing and drying their hair, and applying
face cleanser, all the TEMPtresses gathered in the great hall to
formulate a plan for retrieving the jammies from the Fighting Nighthawk
Commandos. They had quite rudely busted in earlier in the evening, stolen
them, and sneaked away Murdock [Scott] free earlier in the evening.
"We can’t let them get away with this, sir," Javelin’s voice
TEMPorarily rising above the rest, "it would undermine our position."
"It’s not fair," another voice called.
"I say we go get ‘em back," Captain Wildchild called from her
chair.
"I’m with you," Serenity said, loudly. Various, but similar,
comments rose from the great table and the TEMPtresses decided to move
against the Nighthawks.
"Vengeance will be ours!" another called.
"Ladies, ladies, ladies . . ." THE bossMAN tried to soothe the
mob, concerned at the volatility of his fans, "it’s only a coup. We can
just go to the V.A. and get them back . . ." He looked around at the
group, who would threaten someone’s life if that someone described him as
aging - he didn’t really think it was that big a deal, but he liked the
concept.
"Okay, so what’s the plan, BossMAN?" Javelin asked Face, bluntly.
All eyes in the room were on him - he had to do something.
"Well . . ." he started then paused, "you see, I’m not really
used to doing the plan part - that’s Hannibal’s department." He’d
already called Hannibal and only gotten the machine, besides this was
between Murdock and himself, and their fans. He began to notice some
very concerned looks that then began to change into something MUCH more
dangerous. "But, I do have an idea," he said, finally. "We’ll need to
find out when Murdock has his next session with Dr. Richter - he’ll need
ALL the Nighthawks to keep Richter convinced he’s nuts . . ."
"All that shrink needs to see is the fiasco we had here tonight,"
Javelin said conTEMPtuously. Face raised his eyebrows at her in a gentle
reprimand - partially for interrupting, but mostly because Murdock was
his friend. She looked at the floor briefly, and apologized.
"So while he’s in session, we go into his room . . ." he began
again.
"a.k.a. Nighthawk H.Q.," Serenity said under her breath.
"Murdock will leave them for me somewhere where we can find them.
This is just a game to him, and it might be good for him if we play
along," he finished.
"How are we going to get in?" Captain Wildchild asked.
"How about the kidney thing?" someone supplied.
"How many kidneys does that guy have? How many have we already
‘taken’?" another asked.
"More than he ever had," Serenity answered.
"How about we say he’s donating a lung?" Javelin proposed, having
missed the latest SCAM report.
"Done it," Captain Wildchild answered.
Determined not to give up, Javelin began to list off other
non-essential body parts, to which each was replied the same. "Heck, I
don’t know - how about his bladder?" she finally said, exasperatedly.
Everyone was quiet a moment.
"Uh . . . think about what you just said, Jav," Serenity
answered, looking at her friend, surprised. Javelin put her hand to her
head, and crashed back into her seat.
"Is she all right?" another asked in a concerned voice and
pointing at her head.
"Yeah. We’ve had her checked out. I think it’s just hold over
from her time as an undercover TEMP agent with the Nighthawks," Serenity
explained.
"I think I’m losing my grip on reality," Javelin whined.
"As long as you can whine and say those words, you haven’t,
dear," another, kind voice called to her.
"I know. We’ll be scientists, nurses, and officers from the
Pentagon with a warrant to search Murdock’s room," Captain Wildchild
proposed, calmly.
"And we’ll need a distraction. Serenity, how about you be the
nurse - you’ll do that part really well." Javelin started doling out
responsibilities. Face thought about this. It was obvious that she had
spent some time under Hannibal’s tutelage, but that last comment, added
to encourage Serenity to follow, was obviously his influence. "Captain
Wildchild, you wanna wear the lab coat? - That leaves the officer, which
I’m sure is best left to you, sir," she said turning to Face, and then
continued before she could be interrupted, "and I, will take the
despicable job of being the lawyer." Face had to laugh to himself, she
was learning. She’d even made it look like she was taking the last job
that she’d wanted, even though it had been EXACTLY what she’d desired -
he could see it in her eyes.
/It’s that new suit of hers she wants to wear,/ Face thought to
himself, rightly.
"Hey! What about us?" the others asked, eager to help.
"You guys get to be the distraction," she started. "Just in case
Murdock and his . . . commandos," she glanced at Face, "decide to have
recess early. How’s this sound?"
"Sounds reasonable," Serenity said.
"I say we do it," Captain Wildchild added.
"I guess we better get started getting the props together,"
someone said.
"It’s 1:45 a.m., we also should get some rest," Serenity added.
"You know, last I heard. The nurse on duty between one and four
a.m. was guy," another TEMPtress, Sharon, spoke up, just as they were
standing to leave the great table. She watched as her unspoken idea hit
the rest all at once. "I think I’ll go down and visit," she said in a
sultry voice and wagged her eyebrows. "I’ll have that psyche schedule
like that," she snapped her fingers and turned and walked out of the
room. Face watched her go: her short red hair bouncing with each step,
the gentle sway of her hips. As she moved out of his sight, he snapped
back to the present. Javelin was talking to him.
". . . and that’s it. In and out. Piece of cake. We’ll have
those jammies back in no time," she concluded.
"Hmmm?" he looked at her perplexed, "oh, yeah," he added covering
his confusion. "Are . . . uh . . .you all really serious about this?" he
asked, neutrally.
"Yup," Javelin answered plainly and went to get her new suit
ready and find her glasses and brief case.
"Absolutely," Captain Wildchild added, and walked on past to get
her costume together.
"No M-16’s this time, Boss, but . . .this is something that just
has to be done," Serenity added further. She smiled at him, and then
followed the others, dedicated to the task at hand.
He waited a moment, pondering the recent discussion, before he
decided that he’d better call his date and tell her that he would not
make it this evening - business had called him away.
At precisely 14:17, Face dressed in an Army uniform, Serenity
dressed in her nurses uniform, Captain Wildchild in her dress and lab
coat, and Javelin in her new suit with glasses and briefcase, strode into
the lobby in the Veteran’s Administration Psyche ward. Face approached
the stout nurse on duty.
"I’m Major Harwick from the Pentagon - Department of the
Interior, Security division," he started. "I have a warrant," he flashed
a formal looking document, "to search a . . . Mr. Murdock’s room."
"What are you looking for? And who are . . . these . . .
people?" she glared at the TEMPtresses in accompaniment.
Without missing a beat Face answered, somewhat harshly, "WHAT we
are looking for is no concern of yours - unless of course, YOU have been
in conspiracy WITH Mr. Murdock in obtaining top secret and highly
experimental . . . items, quite valuable in the BLACK market." He
paused, looking at his confederates and turned back to the nurse, "THESE
are my associates: Miss Warren," he pointed to Captain Wildchild, "and
Miss Epson," pointing to Serenity, "they are involved in the research
regarding the missing . . . items." Javelin stepped up to the desk, and
spoke more kindly to the woman.
"And," she paused shooting an untrusting look at Face, "I was
contacted anonymously on behalf of Mr. Murdock." She offered her hand to
shake the nurse’s, "I’m Elizabeth Charlamagne. I’m an attorney with
Carr, Fargo, & Myles out of Detroit." She looked at Face, but still
talking to the nurse, "I’m here to be sure that Mr. Murdock’s rights are
. . . OBSERVED," she finished pointedly.
Skeptically, the nurse looked them over, then relented, "Fine.
His room is right down the hall." She pointed in the right direction.
"The key?" he asked.
"Joey!" she called loudly, "Open up Murdock’s room for these . .
. people."
"Thank you for your . . . assistance," Face added in an annoyed
tone and they turned and purposefully strode down the hall to Murdock’s
room. The aid quickly left them to their search, wanting to have little
as possible to do with the situation.
When it was just the four of them, Javelin turned to Face, "So,
how’d I do?" she asked, eager to please.
"Pretty good," he replied as he started looking for the jammies.
She smiled, very pleased that he felt that she’d done well. They split
up and began to search the room low and high. But there didn’t seem to
be any sign of the jammies anywhere.
"We’re running out of time, guys. Murdock and his commandos will
be back in a few minutes," Captain Wildchild said, and sighed in
frustration.
"They’ve gotta be here somewhere," Serenity spoke up.
"There’s just too much STUFF here for us to go through. We’re
gonna have to have that distraction and SOON," Javelin said, inspecting
the inside of the arcade game.
A few minutes later Serenity hollered, "I found ‘em! They were
wadded up inside a box of golf balls."
"’Golf balls?’," Captain Wildchild asked, incredulously.
"Of course, I should have known," Face said, a bit put out with
himself for not remembering.
"How would you have known, Boss?" Captain Wildchild asked.
"I got the jammies on the mission that Murdock founded his ‘Golf
Ball Liberation Army.’ That’s all he talked about the whole time," he
answered.
"Thaaaaaat’s right, Faceguy," Murdock answered casually. Face
whirled at his name to find Murdock smiling broadly. He ambled into the
room flanked on either side by Nighthawks - all TEMPerarily visible and
glaring at the TEMPtresses, except for Thunderbird and Frankie.
Thunderbird glanced around, quite pleased and amused with the fact that
the TEMPs were outnumbered AND cornered. Frankie just stood staring
dumbly at the lovely women in front of him. He had an idea - a really
stupid idea, but this IS Frankie we’re talking about here.
"I’ll have those jammies back in no time," Frankie whispered to
Thunderbird, "The old Santana charm never fails." Thunderbird, still
more than a little peeved about having to walk home, tried to grab
Frankie, but the greasy little guy slipped out of her grip.
"Heeelllloo, ladies," he started, atTEMPting to be charming and
failing miserably. Range Ryder pulled Maydock back before she could get
her hands on the little guy.
"Shhhh," she whispered to her, "maybe he’ll annoy them enough
that they’ll just give us the jammies back."
"Not likely," Thunderbird entered the conversation, "I know some
of these people pretty well. They’re a pretty stubborn bunch.
Surprising, but true."
"If you all will just hand over the jammies, it would be really
nice of you. Maybe we could, like do, lunch or something," he wagged his
eyebrows.
"Just what exactly are you implicating?" Captain Wildchild, asked
harshly, one hand on her hip and in the other she held the retrieved
jammies.
"And just who do you think you are to be propositioning us?"
Serenity asked, abhorred.
"Euccchhhhh!" Javelin added.
"Ummm, Frankie, I really don’t think that this is the way to be
speaking to these ladies," Face started in a helpful tone. He placed his
hand on the other man’s shoulder, and started to pace with him between
the HAWKs and the TEMPs, as he reached the end of the room, he briefly
looked at Javelin and nodded, she replied in kind. All other eyes were
on the two men.
"You see Frankie," turning to face him, "they are a different
breed entirely. If you don’t talk to them just right and you aren’t . .
. well, you get the idea. They can be very TEMPermental . . ." he
glanced to Javelin. She had her briefcase. She’d surreptitiously picked
it up while Face rambled on about how and how not to speak to
TEMPtresses. She pulled out the mobile phone and before anyone could
stop her she dialed and began to speak. Sparks, Range Ryder, and Maydock
all lunged toward her, but Serenity and Captain Wildchild stepped between
them and her, but not before tossing the jammies to Face. It bought
enough time to send the message: "TEMPlar 1."
Sparks grabbed the phone after managing to push between the other
two. "Give me that!" she said, snatching the phone away. Before anyone
else could move, the TEMPtresses were caught, held fast in the tight
grips of the Nighthawks.
"What did you say? And who did you call?" Thunderbird walked up
to Javelin, who merely beamed with delight and mischief in response.
"I heard her say, ‘TEMPlar?’ Or something like that?" Maydock
said.
"TEMPlar? Whatz’at?" Frankie asked, still stunned.
"It was a military group of knights formed in Jerusalem during
the crusades," Murdock answered softly, he was thinking. ‘What do they
have up their conniving little sleeves?’ he thought to himself. He
strode toward Face, wanting to enjoy the moment, before the inevitable
chaos erupted. He took the jammies from his friend’s shoulder and
inspected them.
"You wrinkled them," Face informed him, teasingly.
"Well, they didn’t want to go in the golf ball box. By the way,
the pants are about three inches too short for me," Murdock handed them
back to Face, much to the chagrin of his associates. Face sniffed them
tentatively.
"You wore them?" he asked, a bit annoyed now. "Murdock, they
smell like they’ve been in the laundry bin for weeks."
Thunderbird turned sharply on her heel and strode toward Frankie,
a very deadly glint in her eyes, "You little . . . little . . . little
slimy nozzle! They got a message out."
"Hey. It’s not my fault. What do you want me to do about it?"
he started, backing away from her, and pleading.
"Nothing," she replied low and dangerously, and punctuated it
with a hard right cross that sent Frankie reeling. "I’ve been wanting to
do that for almost a week now," she said, pleased. Face merely watched
as Frankie quickly approached the wall and then the floor.
Serenity, Captain Wildchild, and Javelin snickered, as did most
of the Nighthawks. About this time, an alarm sounded.
"It’s the rest of the TEMPs - they’re here to get their
conspirators out," Tree announced.
"Everybody, get invisible," Thunderbird yelled. Immediately,
mumblings of ‘white paper, white paper’ filled the room. Face tossed the
jammies to Javelin while the Nighthawks began to vanish; she promptly
stuffed them into the briefcase and locked it. The TEMPtresses moved
together, hearing the Nighthawks beginning to encircle them. They stood
back to back, ready for the inevitable attack to come. Then a strong,
invisible hand tried to jerk the briefcase from Javelin’s hand; with her
hand firmly on the handle, she would not release it. Soon Face and his
TEMPtresses were grappling with invisible foes. Just when it looked like
they might lose, women, clad in boots and fatigues stormed into the room
carrying water guns.
Taking careful, but guessing aim, they began to spray the room
with blue paint. Nighthawks began to be somewhat seen as floating
splotches of blue paint.
"Let’s get out of here. We have what we came for," Serenity
yelled, expertly dodging another splotch. Javelin ran for the door,
evading her pursuers, but just as she was about to dash through, her jaw
met with something hard. She fell back onto the floor, stunned.
"How many fingers am I holding up?" someone asked her. All she
could see was the ceiling and blue splotches that were the Nighthawks.
"Blue," she replied truthfully.
"Blue? Oh, drat! No wonder, I’m still invisible," the voice
said. Javelin looked up to see Thunderbird re-materializing over her.
"You okay, kid?" she asked. "You walked right into it."
Javelin sat up enough to rest on her left elbow and rub her jaw.
"Yeah, fine." Then, realizing the situation, she quickly got up and
snatched up the briefcase and headed out, "I gotta go," she told her
friend. Just then a blue splotch ran by and grabbed the case out of her
grip and ran out the door.
"Follow that blue spot with the briefcase - they have the
jammies!" she yelled to the other TEMPtresses. She ran out of the room
full tilt, even in her high heels. Shrugging off their invisible, but
now somewhat seen, opponents, the TEMPtresses followed Javelin who was
after the jammies, and the paint streaked Nighthawks were immediately in
pursuit.
"Stop NOW!" a loud voice attracted the attention of the attendant
that had just come on duty. She turned just in time to see a blue spot
run by, a briefcase floating out in front of it, followed by: a woman in
a suit; another woman in a nurse’s uniform; another in a lab coat; and a
man in an Army uniform. Not far behind followed several more women, all
clad in fatigues, and behind them, charged more floating blue splotches.
A few seconds later the poor woman crashed to the floor from fear of
catching some kind of psychosis.
"Got it!" another yelled. This time as they passed back by the
station, unseen, the briefcase was being carried by one of the women in
the fatigues. All the visibles crowded into the elevator, just before
the first blue spot could sneak in. They dashed out of the building and
somehow managed to pile all of them into the ‘vette and were soon safe
and sound at TEMP headquarters.
That evening, all of the TEMPtresses and Face, sat in the living
room all reclining in their chairs. Some of the TEMPtresses were
listening to music on their Walkmans, some were reading the evening
paper. There was a particularly amusing story about how the whole Psyche
ward at the local V.A. hospital had had a collective hallucination about
floating paint smudges. Face looked up at his crew, proud. He looked
around as all seemed to be relaxing. Then he looked at Javelin; he
couldn’t tell what she was doing.
"Javelin," he started, "what are you doing?"
"Homework," she replied, without looking up from her sketches and
calculations.
"Ahhh . . .," he replied. "Ummm, shouldn’t you have been doing
that instead of going on our little escapade? Hmmm? Your studies are
most important."
"Nah, I wouldn’t have missed that for the world," she started
looking up at him, a glint in her eye. "Besides," she added, turning
back to her book and calculator, "it’s not due for a week anyway. I just
thought I’d get ahead."
Just then, Face saw something pink in the mirror across from him.
It was Billy with the jammies. Again. As the dog dashed by his chair,
he grabbed them. "Unh, unh, uhh, not this time," he said. Surprised,
the dog released the prize without a fight and dashed, whining out of
TEMP H.Q.
Face laughed out loud. Soon, after realizing what had just
occurred, so did the rest. Everyone laughed jovially. Face put the
jammies in a safe place. Then, before long, everyone went to bed, tired
from their adventures. And EVERYONE lived happily ever after.
THE END
