Cabin Fever

Hannibal's alarm clock rang and he groaned and just burrowed deeper under the covers. He'd had set his alarm early. Kitchen duty for him today and he wanted to get an early start and get the day's bread made. That always seemed like such a good idea the night before.

Hannibal Smith baking bread. He almost laughed. Back home if he had to fend for himself for dinner he'd more than likely head for the nearest take out. Now he could make bread from scratch. Well, come spring he should be a lock for a job in the prison kitchen.

Prison kitchen? Oh wow, he thought, if I'm even thinking about that it's a sign I need more sleep, or failing that a bucketful of coffee. He'd slept badly for the last week, blamed the pain of his slowly healing arm for keeping him awake. The dreams didn’t help when he did sleep. Dreams of a heavy weight on his chest, hot breath sniffing around his face, teeth...

The alarm clock was still ringing. The ring was suddenly joined by a banging on the wall and BA's voice roared though from next door.

"Shut it off, man! Some of us is tryin' to sleep!"

Hannibal reached out from under the covers and banged his hand down on the button on top of the clock. Silence. And cold. He gasped as he pulled his arm back under the covers. What the hell? It was freezing. He sat up, grabbed at his bedside lamp in the dark and pulled the switch. The light stayed off.

"BA!"

~~~~

Hannibal and Decker stood on either side of BA holding up flashlights as BA worked on the generator. Face and Murdock were in the boiler room feeding wood into the incinerator. Only the under floor heating generated by the incinerator had kept them all from waking up as popsicles.

"Did it run out of fuel?" Hannibal asked.

"No," BA said. "Bring that light lower will ya." He reached deep inside the generator and fiddled around for a while, then brought out a piece of the workings. Hannibal wanted to groan. That couldn't be good. "It's broke."

"Can you fix it?" Decker asked.

BA scowled and looked offended. He didn't dignify that with an answer. Hannibal shook his head and clicked his tongue. Wrong question, Decker.

"How soon can you fix it?" Hannibal asked.

"There's spare parts in the workshop," BA said. "I'll get it up and running in a couple of hours. If you want lights in the meantime you'd better get the backup hooked up."

Hannibal glanced at the much smaller portable generator that sat in the corner. Well that would keep them going for a couple of hours. But it wasn't a long term solution. He just hoped the workshop had the parts BA needed or they were in big, big trouble.

~~~~

"Murdock, that's enough wood for now, don't go - um - over the top."

Face winced at what he'd nearly said. Don't go nuts. A little late for that.

"Okay." Murdock dropped the wood he'd been about to feed into the incinerator. He looked around the small gloomy room. "Oh boy, if BA doesn't get that generator going again we're going to have to move in here. Might be cramped but it's nice and warm."

"Yeah," Face said. "Ah, good idea, Murdock."

Murdock looked at Face, in the dim light of the electric lantern hanging on the side the incinerator.

"That was a joke, Face."

"Oh, yeah, of course." Face smiled broadly. "How are you feeling today anyway? Aside from cold?"

"Oh, fine." Murdock said. "I was thinking of doing some more work on my book."

"Great." Face said relived. Murdock had spent a lot of the last week in the office, typing. Face had hung around in there too. He was studying, he said. There were a load of science books around the place, he might as well use the time for something useful. So he sat there and read up on meteorology and astronomy and geology and kept an eye on Murdock.

Sometimes when Murdock went to the bathroom or to get coffee Face checked the pages Murdock had typed. Just to make sure they were, well, normal. Ridiculous, he thought, wondering what he expected to find.

all work and no play makes HM a dull boy all work and no play makes HM a dull boy all work and no play makes HM a dull boy

Ridiculous.

But so far they were normal. Normal by Murdock standards anyway. So far.

Murdock was calm. He'd taken the eviction of the wolf pretty stoically, had sat up a couple of late nights with Face and talked about how worried he was for it out there in the snow. But mostly he was calm.

Much calmer than he'd been in the rec room after Hannibal's hunting party had headed to the kennels. Even then he'd not shouted and screamed, just paced around tensely. He'd stopped by the stereo and pulled the needle roughly off the record, making Face wince. When Murdock picked up the LP Face was sure he was about to Frisbee it to smash against the wall. But instead he carefully put it away in its sleeve. Well it was Dark Side of the Moon.

After that he'd sat down next to Face and just stared straight ahead. Until they heard the shots.

But once it was all over he'd become calm. That might make you think he was okay. But Face had seen that calm before. It wasn't okay.

They both looked up as the lights came on.

"Go, BA!" Murdock whooped, punching the air.

~~~~

BA avoided his kitchen duty for the day because he was still working to get the main generator back on line. It was taking longer than the couple of hours he'd claimed it would. Hannibal wouldn't be surprised if he was stretching the time out because he preferred tinkering with a machine to cooking, cleaning and washing up.

As Hannibal prepared lunch alone Decker came into the kitchen.

"Smith."

"Decker. Come to give me a hand?"

"No." Decker looked smug. "I need the key for the armoury."

"Our furry friend's not back is he?"

"No, I was thinking of doing some target practice. The key." He held out his hand.

Hannibal pulled a piece of thin leather cord over his head. There were three keys on it. Two for the exterior and interior kennel doors, one for the armoury.

"Knock yourself out," Hannibal said, handing the keys to Decker.

Decker hadn't objected to Hannibal hanging on those keys. Perhaps for the same reason he hadn't objected to Hannibal leading the way in the kennel. Hannibal certainly wasn't carrying them to score any points off Decker.

"Target practice, eh? Probably a good idea," Hannibal said, trying to keep a smirk off his face. "After that lame display in the kennel."

"Oh and Baracus did so much better did he?"

Hannibal lost the smirk. "At least he didn't shoot me." He rubbed his arm.

"I..." Decker began and stopped. Hannibal wondered if Decker and BA had come up with a little pact to never reveal which of them had fired second.

"I don't know which of us shot you," Decker said. "But neither of us managed to shoot the wolf."

He strode out of the kitchen. Hannibal watched him go. Decker was right, he thought. Going into that kennel was the first time any of them had used a gun in weeks. A skill had to be practised. Or else by the time they got out of here none of them would be able to hit the broad side of a barn. Or rather, miss it in a deliberate and controlled manner. But practice was a chore and the others would surely moan and groan about it, unless they had some extra motivation. Hannibal smiled.

Decker came back in, carrying a rifle, and a box of ammo. He handed the keys back to Hannibal. Then he put the box of ammo down on the kitchen table and sat down.

Hannibal turned away from Decker, started slicing bread. He heard the rounds clicking as Decker loaded the rifle.

"So, Decker, you a good shot? When you're in practice I mean?" Hannibal kept his tone as casual as he could, just making conversation.

"I'm rated as sharpshooter," Decker said.

"Yeah, me too," Hannibal said. "So's BA." He paused for just a heartbeat. "Of course Face is rated expert."

The clicking sounds stopped for a moment, then resumed.

"I'm aware of that," Decker said.

"So if we all went head to head, obviously he'd win."

"Obviously, huh?" Decker stood up and Hannibal turned to face him.

"Yeah, obviously. Of course the real question would be who would be second between you and me." Another tiny pause. "And BA and Murdock of course."

You and me, Rod, Hannibal thought. Head to head. Come on, you gotta go for that.

"Care to find out?" Decker asked and Hannibal grinned.

"Oh yeah."

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© Elizabeth Charles 2006