evening_bat: Bat in flight, silhouetted against the moon. (Default)
[personal profile] evening_bat
Title: Tactical Maneuvers
Author: [personal profile] evening_bat
Rating: PG
Spoilers: none
Warnings: none
Word Count: ~550
Prompt: "Show!prompt! The team's fighting style is mostly hurling themselves off objects to knock down the bad guys. How they came up with such a fucking stupid idea, and why they stuck with it."


Tactical Maneuvers


The first time it happened, Face was actually trying to get away from a man half again as big as BA. What with the fight taking place in an alleyway, he didn’t have a lot of room to maneuver so he scrambled up onto the roof of a car parked in the alley mouth. Unfortunately, the bastard was more than tall enough to make a grab for him. When one ham-handed swing came too close for comfort, Face turned and made a desperate dive from the top of the car - right into the midst of a cluster of incoming reinforcements. Face had just enough time to see the wide-eyed expressions of shock on their faces before they all went down in a pile of flailing limbs.

When the dust cleared, Face found himself sprawled on top of a heap of groaning, semi-conscious thugs. He lay there for a few seconds, not quite believing his good fortune, when the dwindling sounds of combat from the alley reminded him where he was. He was just levering himself painfully to his feet when Hannibal skirted around the parked car, concern immediately melting into amusement at the sight of Face standing awkwardly next to a stack of thoroughly defeated opponents.

“Nice technique there, Lieutenant,” he drawled as he fished a fresh cigar out of his pocket.

Face cleared his throat and assumed his best assured expression. “I meant to do that.”

*~*~*

Hannibal was the man with the plan. Equally adept at planning elaborate strategy or improvising on the fly. Commander of the best damn elite team the military had ever had. No mission too dangerous, no odds too high, no scumball too dirty to be cleaned up by Hannibal and his boys. But where was the fun in it if you always stuck to the safe, guaranteed plans? What was the use in hanging back and catching your targets by surprise if you didn't take advantage of their dropped guard and rush them while you could?

Granted, Hannibal thought as he lay flat on his back, blinking the stars out of his eyes, this one time he may have underestimated the size of the guy he'd jumped.

"Aw, Hannibal," BA complained, a vague shadow looming in Hannibal's still-blurry vision. "Why you gotta be so crazy, man?"

Hannibal grinned broadly as he squinted up at BA. "Never underestimate the power of surprise, BA," he lectured as he held out a hand.

BA snorted but pulled him to his feet. "Never underestimate the power of my fist in his face, you mean."

*~*~*

BA preferred to keep his feet firmly on the ground in a fight. Leave the acrobatics to his crazy teammates - he'd rather throw a good, hard punch. Sometimes the situation didn't leave him much choice though. Times like now, with Hannibal laying down covering fire on their left flank and Face busy keeping their client down so she didn't get her fool head blown off. BA growled and flung himself at the pack of gang members trying to beat some sense into Murdock. Smacking the crazy out of Murdock was his job.

*~*~*

“It’s just like flying!” Murdock shouted as he launched himself from the roof, bowling over a trio of stunned men with a joyful howl.

FIN


Originally posted here on [livejournal.com profile] a_team_kink.

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