So, here is my second shot story in my Vietnam series. This one follows after Duty, though I have tried to make it fairly easy to read as a stand alone for anyone who hasn't read Duty. While I will try and keep this fairly canon, some of the aspects of the show were a little hard to mesh with the realities of the Vietnam War. I'm hoping that this is a fair mix of both worlds. This is rated T for violence and language and may contain some brief, suggestive scenes (just putting that in there for fair warning). I must also write a sincere and HUGE 'thank you' to Tiggertoo, Quentillian, AprilDancer007 and Kiki. Thank you for your help with scenes and editing, your encouragement and your friendship.

Disclaimer: I do not own the A-team. I'm just borrowing them for a bit.

Prologue

December 12, 1969

Ray drained down the last of his beer, clattered the mug to the table and stared down at his empty glass. No one needed a reason to drink—not here. Besides dulling the fear and loneliness, it was something to do.

But, a reason to celebrate was an entirely different matter.

Hell, in less than two weeks, he'd be back in Barlow Creek holding Trish. And, for added safety, his remaining time in-country was going to be spent repairing a schoolhouse in a quiet hamlet near the base. Hannibal must've pulled a shitload of strings to get on the non-combat detail, and, though the colonel would never openly admit to doing so, Ray was thankful. He didn't need Hannibal to say anything. He could see the gesture for what it was—a farewell present of sorts.

Grinning from ear to ear, Ray could feel the warm, drunken flush in his cheeks as he surveyed the club. It'd been Face's idea to go out for drinks. He'd thought they needed to let off some steam and bask in Ray's good fortune. It'd been a good call.

They'd only been in Da Nang a couple of weeks, but it'd been just long enough for Peck to settle back into his old ways. Shit, Face had probably tried to set up something stockade worthy for this outing. Unfortunately, Hannibal had other ideas about how their time was best spent.

Ray chuckled quietly to himself, picturing the colonel's expression when they'd all but announced they were going into Da Nang to 'celebrate.' The mixture of irritation and skepticism blazing in those icy, blue eyes shot that down faster than any words could. Plus, Hannibal had been pretty damn quick to mention he'd drills planned for them, but what had they expected? They were still on his shit list for the last time they went out carousing.

After a long, heated negotiation, headed by Face, they were granted permission to get drinks on base. Hannibal conceding at all to their whims had been a surprise, though it was clear he did so very reluctantly.

Ray gave a content sigh as he continued to study the packed room. Drinks on base were better than nothing.

The small, dimly lit club was slowly filling with the din of drunken conversation as weary crowds of Marines started to shuffle in—ready to numb their wartime memories before drunkenly wallowing in their longing for home.

Home... Ray's booze filled mind lingered on that. To see Trish, to hold her, kiss her, just feel her again, an excited spark ran through him at that thought, but could he believe this was for real? Had he really made it to the end of his second tour? Christ, he'd seen so much. He'd done so much.

He let his grin slide away as he suddenly considered the men sitting at the table with him, the men he'd served with.

To his right was Sgt. Casey Callaghan, their medic and, hands down, one of the bravest sons of bitches Ray had ever met. Callaghan seemed to have absolutely no qualms about risking his life. The danger didn't matter—mortars, firefights, snipers—Callaghan's first priority was always on the wounded.

Next to Callaghan was Sgt. B.A. Baracus. The fact that the muscular Sergeant had agreed to come with them on their outing had amazed Ray, but when he actually sat down and stayed for more than ten minutes, Ray was flat out confused. BA certainly wasn't known for his social skills.

To Ray's left, Sgt. Dominic Rodrigo was rocking back in his chair. Dominic, or Dom as everyone called him, was a dependable rogue, ready to help out at a moment's notice, but only so long as it was under his terms.

And, seated beside Dom was Lt. Templeton Peck, better known as Face.

Ray eyed the lieutenant, his soon to be replacement. He liked the kid, but that's just what he was. With all his talent and charm, he was still just a very young man in a really shitty war. He really hoped Hannibal knew what hell he was doing with this choice.

Ray had to wonder how his departure would affect the unit. Apprehension and guilt gnawed at him. These were his men just as much as they were Hannibal's. They'd needed him in the past, what if they needed him again in the future? What would his absence mean?

But he couldn't stay. He didn't want to. He wouldn't do that to Trish. She deserved to have her wedding. She'd waited long enough. He'd served his time, and this wasn't his war any longer. He just had to keep reminding himself of that.

"Goddamn it!"

Ray gave a start, nearly toppling from his chair at Callaghan's shout. Wide-eyed, he stared over at the diminutive, red-headed medic seated next to him.

Callaghan's heated gaze was fixed on Face. "How the hell did you get that!?"

Quick as a viper, Callaghan stretched across the table and snagged something from Face's hands. With a smug smile, Face held still, obviously allowing the sergeant a moment to stew.

"So…" Face said at last, his tone playful. "You've got sisters, huh?"

Leaning over, Ray caught a quick glance of the paper Callaghan held. It was a photo of seven gorgeous young women, six with raven dark hair, one red-head and all of them with the same goofy, protruding ears that Callaghan had.

"Piss off…" Callaghan snapped, eyeing his picture for a moment before pocketing it. "I don't want you even thinking about my sisters."

"For the record," Dom chimed in. "I wasn't the one to tell him about your sisters…just so you know."

Callaghan glared at Ray, who was quick to offer a shake of his head. No one even bothered to accuse BA. He wasn't much of one to discuss personal matters with anyone.

"It's ok," Face replied, flashing a dazzling smile, "I saw the picture of your mother too, so I know what they all turn into. Trust me; your sisters are safe from me. You have one god-awful, ugly mother. I don't think I'll ever burn that image out of my mind."

Amid the clatter from the rest of the bar, their little gathering had gone dead quiet. It took Ray a moment to realize he'd been holding his breath, waiting expectantly for the medic to launch himself across the table in a blaze of fury.

Finally, BA broke the silence. "Don't go talkin' about people's mamas like that, Faceman," he growled. "Ain't nice…"

And, just like that, the rage eased from Callaghan's eyes. Hell, he even started laughing. "Man, Face, you've got a huge set of balls, you know that?" Callaghan said, reclining back in his chair. "And if you ever take them near my sisters, I'll cut them clean off."

Face nodded. "Noted."

"What about what he said about your mother?" Ray asked, raising a brow, unsure if he really should've pushed that subject back into the limelight, but he was on his fourth beer and his tongue was working a lot faster than his brain.

Callaghan shrugged. "I love the woman, but she is an ugly old bird…can't change that."

"Shit," Dom groaned. "I thought you all were gonna end our night right there. I mean, really guys, you're gonna pull this kind of shit on us now? Come on, I just got back from Saigon…you know…after I was flown back from Japan…after having all those bullets plucked out of me."

"Here we go again…" Ray muttered. They'd only heard this story about a million times already.

"They tape the fuckin' bullets to your chest, did you know that?" Dom said, getting more animated with each word. "You wake up buck-ass naked in a hospital bed with a bullet taped to your chest. I asked them why the fuck they'd do that, and do you know what they said?" He paused, staring expectantly over at Callaghan.

The medic scowled but played his part. "No, I don't. What'd they say?"

"They said in case I wanted to keep it! Did I want to keep it? Fuck no…I wanted to keep some god-damn drawers on though..."

"Look at that fool…" Baracus growled, interrupting Dom and gesturing toward the bar. "I told him I didn't want a beer—especially not from some crazy-ass pilot."

On the opposite side of the room, Murdock stood at the counter trying to figure out how to carry six mugs of beer back to the table by himself. The bartender, looking bemused, seemed content to watch the lanky man struggle.

Then, in a fluid shifting of long limbs, the lanky pilot managed to grab three mug handles in each hand, gracefully lift them off the counter and start across the room. He nimbly skirted around a group of rowdy Marines as he proceeded along. Arriving at the table, he held up the drinks. "Gentlemen, I bring you tidings of joy and beer."

He offered a mug to BA with a lopsided grin. "Sorry big guy. The only milk they had was Water Buffalo and no one here would ever dream of drinking the water. Have you seen what they do in that river? And I'm not talkin' about the laundry…"

They all knew BA didn't drink. Even with all the shit they'd been through, Ray hadn't seen the man touch an ounce of liquor. So he was more than a little stunned when BA muttered his thanks and reached for the beer.

Even Face seemed intrigued. He raised a brow, watching the large sergeant lift the beer to his lips.

By the looks of it, the drink barely wet the man's tongue before he grimaced and set the mug roughly back down. Ray bit back his laughter—which was more than Face and Callaghan had done. Maybe they should've warned BA that the beer here tasted about as bad as piss, but what fun would that have been?

"Your drinks, gentlemen…" Murdock chuckled, sliding beers over to Ray and Dom. "BA highly endorses them."

Ray grinned. "I can see that." He liked the pilot. There was something comforting in that soft southern drawl and the man's quick, zany sense of humor.

Dom absentmindedly took his drink from the captain. Something had been distracting him to the point he'd missed BA's momentous beer sipping moment. Ray followed his gaze and found that it was fixed on a pretty, blond nurse in the corner.

"Hey, you know you can talk to them?" Ray asked. "Women, that is. The blonde ones in US uniforms even speak English."

Eyes still on the shapely figure, Dom smirked. "Well, I did get some action back in Saigon...didn't need any English then."

Face leaned back in his rickety chair as he took a long pull off his beer. "Nope, just twenty bucks."

Callaghan snorted. Murdock sported an even wider grin than before and BA….well, he kept frowning down at his mug of piss flavored beer, acting as if he hadn't heard a word they'd just said.

In a flash, Face was standing. With a confident smirk and cool gaze settled on the nurse, his intent was clear.

"Hey," Dom huffed. "I saw her first!"

Already two steps closer to the nurse and obviously not about to change his destination, Face replied, "Yes…you did, and that's why I waited this long." And then he was gone, weaving his way carefully across the room.

"Damn, he's one cocky son-of-a-bitch…" Callaghan muttered in awe as they all watched the young LT approach the nurse.

"Yep," Ray chuckled before taking a sip of beer.

Dom was sullen at first but his expression slowly twisted into amusement. "I wonder what they're saying."

"Well," Murdock drawled as he sat down. "Right now he is telling her how things would be better with gentlemen like us. Then he's gonna offer her a drink at our table."

As the pilot spoke, Face motioned back toward them, his dazzling grin still in place. The nurse gave him a coy smile but eyed the men at the table warily.

Murdock shifted, taking another swig of his beer. "Hmm, looks like she's not so sure about us. " He cocked his head at BA. "Maybe you should try not to look like you're gonna eat her, ok, big guy…not yet at least."

The sergeant glanced up at Murdock and let out a low growl before redirecting his potent scowl back at the nearly untouched beer before him.

Ray laughed, but, for the most part, his attention was set on Face and the nurse. Was this really the man that was going to replace him? He watched as Face discreetly motioned toward the bartender—ordering drinks for himself and his new lady friend.

In one smooth gesture, Face offered the nurse a hand and, after she took it, he slid her up from her chair. She giggled as she rose, finding herself nestled close to his chest. He played it off nicely, quickly turning her and maneuvering her through the crowds, his arm slipping comfortably around her waist.

By the time they made it back to the table, the bartender had delivered their drinks. Only Face could have an order brought to a table in Vietnam as though it were a civilized place to eat and drink.

Face pulled out a chair, offering the seat to the slender beauty he'd brought over. She smiled and sat.

Dom's crooked grin beamed over at the woman, his hungry gaze searching her a little too intently. "Heya...uh...yeah..."

And, just like that, her smile was gone as she stared back at the jabbering man seated beside her.

"This is Sandra," Face offered smoothly as he nodded his thanks to the bartender and slipped him some cash. "And, Sandra, this is Dom, Murdock, BA, Callaghan and Ray."

Callaghan snorted, nearly sending a wash of beer out his nostrils. "We watch him pull off that smooth ass shit with this broad and all you can come up with is 'Heya...uh...yeah?' You're such a dip-shit."

After scowling briefly at the medic, Murdock gave a warm smile and nod toward the newcomer. "Nice to meet you, Sandra, and, please, don't mind Callaghan. I believe he was raised by rabid wolves in a harsh upstate New York environment."

"Hey, now," Callaghan chimed in. "I really don't think those wolves that raised me were rabid..." He gave a wide, toothy grin. "They were just misunderstood was all."

"It's the foaming at the mouth that gives it away, Cal." Murdock's response was quick and left the medic chuckling.

Face turned his head, leaning close to the nurse and whispering some sweet nothings that had her smiling. Her soft giggle was warm, inviting.

"I got moves like that," Dom muttered quietly to Ray.

Ray grinned. "No, you don't. None of us have moves like that…" It was true. Only Face could pull that type of shit off and get away with it. The rest of them would've had a hand-print embedded in their cheek.

Sandra flushed, suddenly seeming to remember she wasn't at a table alone with the handsome, young lieutenant. Turning toward the others, a cordial, slightly forced smile in place, her voice came out smooth as silk. "It's so nice to be away from those lugs…the Marines, that is. You know how they get—a bit grabby and all."

The statement was a bit ironic, seeing as Face had been a little touchy-feely already, but who was Ray to say so? He mustered his best look of concern and gave her a solemn nod.

"Well," Murdock said with a grin, "I've never had a Marine get grabby on me, as hard as that is to believe, but I have had them punch me in the jaw a time or seven."

Ray chuckled as he tipped his mug back for another swig. Of course, there was enough truth in what Murdock said that it shouldn't have been funny, and as he lowered his beer, he noted BA's tense pose. Brow knitted, eyes narrowed, the large man's fists were already clenched and ready for action as he stared across the room.

A quick glance confirmed what Ray feared—angry Marines. From the large crowd loitering on the far side of the room, five Marines broke off and started toward them.

Ray nudged Dom, getting the other men's attention as he did so. "We've got company," he warned, tipping his head toward the advancing threat.

Face frowned. "Um... you guys want to handle that, right?" He eyed Sandra thoughtfully and smiled, somehow seeming to excuse himself from the fight.

However, the mammoth, muscle-bound Marine that strode up was quick to slam a fist down onto the table in front of Face. Leaning over, nostrils flared, his words came out through clenched teeth. "And just what do you think you're you doing? That's my girl."

Face stared up, eyes cold, calculating as they fixed on the Marine. It was that slow, controlled smirk that played across the lieutenant's lips that sent chills up Ray's spine. Face had seen a challenge, and he wasn't about to back down.

"Well," Face replied coolly, "I don't see your name written on her anywhere…" He paused watching the veins start to bulge in the Marine's neck and forehead. "…but maybe I should look a bit closer…and in depth."

Shit.

Face's smile wavered slightly as the Marine's buddies circled around him.

Ray pushed back his chair and slowly rose, making sure his movements weren't seen as threatening by the swarm of Marines. "It looks like it's time for us to be going, so if you all don't mind..."

Another of the Marines just smiled wolfishly at that. "Oh, I think we mind. Your boy over here has something to settle first."

Dom downed the rest of his beer before glaring at Face. "Great, now you've done it. You had to go for the girl. You just had to. I was fine with staring..." He glanced sheepishly over at Sandra. "Not in a creepy way or nothing."

Her grimace suggested she believed otherwise. If they weren't about to get their asses kicked, Ray would've laughed.

BA, Callaghan and Murdock were on their feet, each waiting patiently for the fight to either begin or abort. Ray really hoped it was the latter of the two.

But, as the Goliath Marine reached over, grabbed Sandra by the arm and yanked her from her chair, it became clear what was going to happen next. The nurse had barely gotten out her yelp of surprise before Face was at her side, freeing her from the man's grasp and tossing the first punch.

Dom slid out of his chair, away from the Marines and escorted Sandra a few paces away from the soon-to-be brawl. "Hey, Doll, you might wanna wait here," he cooed with a wink.

Ray spun around, ducking the fist of another brutally large Marine before tackling the man. They toppled to the ground, tossing wild punches and overturning tables. He was dimly aware of both BA and Murdock joining the fight, but he only caught flashes of them swinging and dodging amid the tangle of Marines.

Callaghan reappeared suddenly, sporting a bloody nose and a fresh whiskey in hand as he watched the fight. "You're all doing great. Keep it up! I'll patch you up real good when it's over, I promise."

Getting to his feet, Ray frowned. When the hell did he find time to get a fresh drink? Not that the whiskey did him much good. Medic or not, a Marine took him down in a hard tackle.

Ray glanced around wildly, trying to spot his unit members amid the chaos. There was still time to get them out of here before the MPs showed up...maybe.

Murdock hit a wall and slid down it. He managed to get back to his feet but slowly. Face was leaning against a table, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth as he spit out a tooth. BA was the only one still standing, and he actually seemed to be enjoying himself—go figure. As for the medic, he was…well, Ray didn't know where the hell Callaghan was.

Then, an eerie calm settled over the club. The Marines shifted restlessly, obviously not ready to give up the fight but doing so nonetheless.

Nursing a bruised side, Ray blinked. Had they won? Were the Marines giving up? Somehow he really doubted that.

BA pulled a Marine off Callaghan and dropped him to the side and gave the medic a hand up. Face had propped himself up against a wall, wiping the blood from his chin.

And then Hannibal suddenly stood before them, carefully eyeing each of his men. "What exactly is going on here?"

Only Murdock hadn't seemed to notice the colonel's arrival and had thrown one last punch, sending a Marine crashing to the ground. With a grin, he spun around and finally spotted Hannibal. It took a few slow seconds for the smile to slide from the pilot's face.

Hannibal regarded his captain for a moment, before turning to Ray. "Time to call it a night. We've got a mission in the morning. We'll be flying out at oh-six hundred." And with that he turned and strode past the Marines and out the door.

Ray was aware that the guys were talking, voicing their relief over not getting chewed out by Hannibal, but he couldn't focus on what they said. He wished like hell that Hannibal had chewed them out. The fact that he hadn't only meant one thing. Ray frowned. Whatever op they'd just been assigned wasn't going to be easy.

He thought again of Trish, of how close he was to being home and a shiver ran through him.