Title: Ring Around the Rosie

Author: Mistress Lrigtar

Disclaimer: The A-Team is property of Stephen Cannell and company. I'm not making any money off of this and it's purely for yours and my enjoyment.

Chapter One

The scene in the kitchen looked like something out of a horror movie. Chairs were overturned; there were broken dishes on the floor, as if someone had put up a tremendous struggle. Amongst the broken dishes a bloodied knife could be seen. Bloody handprints covered the refrigerator, a phone dangling off the hook, and the doorjambs. Lying in the midst of all this wreckage was Hannibal Smith, in a pool of blood.

A door opened somewhere else in the apartment and a frantic voice called, "Hannibal?" Rushing feet ran through the apartment, slamming doors open before heading towards the kitchen. The feet stopped in the doorway and an audible gasp was heard.

"Hannibal!" The feet carried the speaker to the man on the floor, knelt, and gently rolled the body over. Hannibal's eyes stared sightlessly up into the face of Templeton Peck.

Face looked at a loss as to what to do. Before he could even move, however, Hannibal's body began shaking and emitting a horrible sound. At first, Face thought his commanding officer was choking on his own blood, and then he saw the grin and realized the colonel was laughing.

Swiping angrily at the tears that had been about the fall, Face yelled at Hannibal, "You're one sick bastard, you know that?"

Hannibal sat up chuckling, "I never realized you cared so much, Face."

"You scared me to death. I thought you had been killed!" Face said. "And you think it's funny."

"Come on, Face," Hannibal said, pulling his sticky shirt away from his chest. "I had to see if this new make-up kit was realistic or not. I needed a test subject before I go to my audition after work today."

"Great. So, I'm a guinea pig now?" Face asked, exasperated.

"I don't think I would have gotten such a good reaction from a guinea pig," Hannibal said, and glanced at his watch. "Speaking of guinea pigs, I have to get to work." He got up and headed for the bathroom.

Face looked around the trashed kitchen. "I'm not cleaning this up, Hannibal!"

"Thanks, Face! I'd appreciate that!" Hannibal called.

"No, Hannibal…" Face began, but gave up. It was useless, after all, but he didn't have to clean this mess up alone. Grabbing the still dangling phone gingerly, he dialed a number and waited. "Hello? Amy? Hi, it's Face. Listen…"