ANY WEDNESDAY

      by Lori Beatty



      The Shady Rest Motel was tucked quietly away behind three small hills several yards back of state highway forty-three. It's tiny cabins were nestled among decades old oleanders and large oak trees. Forty years prior, in it's prime, the Shady Rest had been the ultimate in the then, new motor inns. It offered an idyllic stop over for weary travelers after a day in the automobile. The small cabins were painted pristine white with green shutters and window boxes filled with pink petunias and each was separated from the other by lush green grass and small round stepping stones. Repeating the peaceful color scheme were flower beds of white and red impatients, bordered with round white stones painted in the traditional white. The small decorative edging meandered from the cabins all the way up to the small neatly kept office and surrounding parking lot. In all, twelve little cabins faced the common grass area, the center of which held a swimming pool. The pool was a new addition, a concession to the modern times and had probably replaced the simpler recreational diversion so popular in it's day: the swing set and slide.

      Today these little places had all but been replaced by sleek, glass and steel Holiday Inns and the lesser priced, modular, low budget, Days Inns. It was it's very outdated atmosphere that intrigued Hannibal Smith and he pointed to the unobtrusive motel with a smile on his face. "Turn in here, BA."

      The driver of the van frowned. "Oh, Hannibal, can't we go next door to the Best Western? It's lots newer."

      "Yeah," Face piped up. "Why do you always stop at these low budget, out dated, rat holes?"

      "Rat holes?" Hannibal snapped. "Face, look at this place. It's a classic. A true piece of Americana. you don't see motels like this anymore. This place has character, style, it's got. . . "

      "It's got termites," BA growled.

      "Aw, come on guys," Murdock spoke up calmly. "Hannibal's right. I mean, look at all the assets this place has to offer. It's shaded from the intense daytime sun, it's quite and peaceful, and we could all use some peace at the moment. We need to be prepared for the upcoming confrontation with Cramer and his slimes."

      "Anything else?" Face asked dubiously.

      Murdock thought a moment then added, "Yes, it's quaint."

      "Quaint?" Face questioned.

      "Yeah. Look at those little rocks painted white all lined up like little soldiers and look a those big old trees with their leafy leaves and their knarled trunks and those cute flower beds," Face rolled his eyes but Murdock kept on. "And the green shutters and the oleanders. It's a very inviting place."

      Hannibal nodded, feeling better now that his idea had a backer.

      Face still groaned. "These old places always smell like mildew."

      "Mildew? Face, that's not mildew. That's history. Just think of the people who have stopped and left a little piece of their lives within these picturesque cabins. Ahhh, the stories they could tell."

      Face let his head droop nearly to his lap. When Hannibal was on one of his nostalgia kicks he got very melodramatic. It was a lost cause.

      Hannibal ignored the Faceman and ordered BA to pull into the parking slot nearest the office. "Murdock, you and Amy go check us in. We'll go on down to the real estate office and put in a bid for that property. That should put a divot in Cramer's golf green. We'll be back in a few minutes to pick you up for the ride out to Cramer's estate. We'll also make reservations at the fancy hotel we passed on the way in. That way, Cramer will think we are in one place, while we're really in another."

      Murdock grinned and elbowed Amy. "Isn't he the greatest?"

      Face slid the door of the van aside to allow the two to climb out, then waved a cheery goodbye as BA threw the lever into drive and roared out of the parking lot, scattering rocks and kicking up dust as he went.

      With a jaunty wave to the retreating van, Murdock shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled at his companion. His eyes held a mischievous twinkle as he asked, "How many rooms are we going to get?"

      Amy feigned innocence. "Why, three, of course. Just like we always do. You and Hannibal get one room, Face and BA another, and I, being the only female on the team, get a room all to myself," she smiled happily.

      "Aw, come on, Amy," Murdock pretended to pout. "Can't we sort of, shuffle things around this time?"

      "No," she replied firmly. "Now behave yourself."

      "I'm tired of sleeping with Hannibal. He hogs the covers."

      Amy threw him a threatening glance and pulled open the squeaking screen door that led to the motel office.

      Seated behind the small counter was a plump, jovial faced man of about sixty-five who smiled as they entered. "Well, good day to you, folks," he greeted, peering over the rim of his glasses. "Welcome to Simsport. How can I be of service today?"

      Amy stole a glance at Murdock and saw that ornery twinkle still shining in his brown eyes and couldn't help bur grin in response. The old gentleman misinterpreted the expression, however.

      "Awww, now don't tell me, I know. You're newly weds, huh? Well, you just sign your name and I'll make sure you get the best cabin in the complex. A nice secluded one, real private." he winded at Amy who had blushed scarlet at the remark.

      It wasn't that she was embarrassed by the thought of her and Murdock being married, but because the old man had hit so close to the truth without realizing it. "Well, uh. . . "

      "Naw," Murdock drawled in mock disgust. "She's my sister. Geez. I'll never hear the end of this," he complained, slouching against the counter.

      Amy picked up the game. "Can't you see the family resemblance?" she asked the man. "Brown eyes, brown hair, same smile." The pair put their faces side by said and grinned broadly at the old man.

      "Oh yeah, guess I can now that you mention it. Sorry about that." He cleared his throat, embarrassed and shoved the register toward them. "So, how many rooms then? Two?"

      "Nope. Three. Our Pa and brothers are down the street. They'll be back soon."

      "Family outing, huh?" the old man guessed.

      "Something like that," Amy agreed.

      The proprietor turned the book around and looked at the name Murdock had signed. "Cartwright, huh?"

      "Yep. My name's Adam and this here's my sister, Angela."

      "Nice names," the man grinned.

      While the owner's back was turned, locating the keys, Murdock mimed a man and woman in a Hollywood type, passionate embrace. Amy kicked him.

      "Okay, here ya go. You and your brothers have cabins 9 & 10, that's the last ones on the left of the pool. Miss, you're in the little cabin back by the big oak. Number twelve, beside the pink oleander."

      After thanking the man the two went back out and started along the narrow stepping stones that connected the miniature dwellings.

      "Murdock," Amy asked, with a sideways stare. "Why did you tell that man our name was Cartwright?"

      "Coz. We're just like that family on Bonznza. I'm the older brother, Adam. He was the intelligent one, ya know. Hannibal is our leader so he can be Ben. Face is the good looking one of the team so he can be Little Joe and BA, that big ugly, gentle giant, gets to be Hoss."

      Amy mulled that over for a moment then asked, "Okay, I'll buy that, but the Cartwright's didn't have a sister. Why did you name me Angela?"

      "That's easy. Remember Make Room for Daddy and Lost in Space?"

      "Yeah, but. . ."

      "Little dark haired girl, her name was. . ."

      "Angela Cartwright," Amy finished for him. "That's very clever, Murdock. Strange, but clever."

      Murdock put a friendly arm around Amy's shoulder and pulled her close. "Hey, little sister, wanna play some baseball?"

      Amy wiggled out of his grasp and swatted playfully at his arm. "Don't you little sister me."

      "Aw, come on. I never had a little sister."

      "Well don't look at me."

      "It might be fun," he grinned.

      "No, no, Murdock," she said patronizingly. "Brothers and sisters can't do the things you like to do."

      "That's true," he agreed quickly. "Forget the sister stuff."

      They had reached the small cabin assigned to Amy and she inserted her key and opened the door. Murdock peeked inside.

      "Nice, quiet, cozy, intimate." That twinkle was back in his eyes.

      Before Amy could reply, the unmistakable sound of BA's van drifted toward them. With a sigh, Murdock straightened and shoved his hands back in his pockets. "Pa's home." **********

      Little of Murdock and Amy's good humor was in evidence four hours later as they sat with the rest of the team in Hannibal's tiny cabin. The initial confrontation with Cramer hadn't gone well. He was much better equipt than the team had been informed. The introduction to Cramer's organization was an all out assault from a well armed and expert army of gung ho types. During the fracas Murdock was hit. It was sheer luck that the bullet only grazed his skull. It could just as easily have killed him.

      "All right, you all know the plan," Hannibal said, rising from the chair. "We'll start first thing in the morning. Cramer thinks we're staying at the Emeralds Arms in town so we should be safe enough here for tonight but sleep easy, just in case."

      The members of the A-Team all departed for their quarters. Hannibal stopped Murdock at the door. "You okay, Captain?" His concern for the pilot was clear in the blue eyes.

      "Oh, sure, Colonel." Murdock struck a cowboy pose and continued in a think Texas drawl. "Shucks, twern't nothin', Sheriff. Just a flesh wound." He chewed up and spit out an imaginary wad of tobacco, then tipped his cap and winked at Hannibal.

      The colonel watched Murdock saunter out the door then turned to Face. "Maybe we should keep Murdock in the rear this trip."

      Peck smiled and shook his head. "Stop worrying, Hannibal. Murdock is fine. That wound isn't serious, believe me. Besides, it would take more than a bullet to damage his brain."

      Hannibal couldn't help but smile at the joke and nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right. Let's turn in."



      Murdock and BA moved next door to the cabin just south of Hannibal's. The pilot was shuffling his feet and pouting. "I was supposed to sleep with Hannibal. I don't like sleeping with you."

      "I don't like it either. You talk in your sleep, man," BA complained.

      "I do? What do I say, Big Guy? Anything interesting?"

      "Interesting? It's gibberish! Engineer talk, pilot lingo, I can't make no sense out of it."

      Murdock looked disappointed. "Technical jargon, huh? Strange. I never dream about that stuff. It's usually about dogs and birds and bad guys, mostly." BA frowned at him. "Hey, maybe tonight I'll dream about bullets and bandages, ya think?"

      "Maybe that bullet cleared up your brain, fool," BA hoped. "Now you get in there and go to sleep."

      Murdock gave his roommate a sour look but interred the small cabin anyway. He continued to torment his friend with little monologues and bits of useless trivial until the man was ready to throttle him. With a mental chuckle, Murdock relented and settled down in the narrow twin bed, one eye trained on the alarm clock on the nightstand. He wondered what his irritable friend would think if he could see what Murdock really dreamed about, and who. With a broad smile of amusement, he relaxed and waited for the time to pass.



      It was nearly one AM when Amy Allen stepped quietly from her small cabin and walked out into the warm fragrant night air. She glanced at her watch then began to walk slowly among the thick shrubs that surrounded the pool. Her thoughts were troubled and she checked her watch a second time, impatiently. Faintly, off in the distance she thought she heard footsteps and looked toward the two cabins across the pool.

      "Taxi, lady?" a deep voice asked and she turned to find Murdock at her shoulder. She smiled and raised her hand to touch the bandage on his left temple. "Are you sure you're okay.? No side effects?"

      "Not a one. Well," he amended. "I do seem to have a tremendous desire to be held and coddled," he grinned.

      "You scared me," she said softly.

      Murdock reached out and took hold of her hand, giving it a little squeeze. "Sorry, Babe. It wasn't intentional."

      "I know," she replied and moved easily into his arms, resting her head against his chest. They stood quietly, wrapped in a warm embrace, enjoying the soft night air and each other.

      It was Amy who broke the spell, gently pushing Murdock away. "We've got to talk," she said solemnly.

      Murdock grinned and raised his eyebrows. "I'd rather play Post Office or maybe, Spin the Bottle, or what about your favorite. . ."

      "No, I'm serious, Murdock. We have to talk, please?"

      Something in Amy's voice told him that this was no time to be either silly or romantic. "Okay, you want to go inside?"

      Shaking her head, Amy gestured to the two wrought iron chairs beside her. "This'll do. It'll be easier to think out here in the air."

      Murdock peered at the reported intently, puzzled over the ominous tone in her voice. "Are you okay? You sound so serious."

      "It is serious!"

      "Okay," Murdock spread his arms and sat down. "Shoot."

      "Oh God, don't SAY that!" she suddenly yelped.

      Murdock was up out of his chair in an instant. "Amy, what is it? What did I say?"

      Amy took a moment to compose herself then waved a hand in his direction. "Nothing. Just sit down. I'm sorry. It's just," God she felt like an idiot. It all seemed so simple before when she'd decided to talk to Murdock about their relationship. But now, standing beside him, she couldn't seem to find a good place to start. As a result, she was making no sense at all and she could see he was growing more and more concerned. Boy, wouldn't her friends love to see her now. The cool, calm, I-can-do-anything-Amy Allen stammering and stumbling over a conversation with a crazy man.

      Murdock could see the conflicting emotions playing across her face and he smiled up at her from the chair. "It's all right, Babe. I'll wait until you're ready to talk. Just take your time."

      His calm, patient attitude seemed to help channel her random thoughts and she smiled back. "Murdock, I'm not sure this. . . relationship of ours. . ."

      "Affair," he corrected with a casual grin.

      "Affair, then. I'm not sure it's working out."

      "Are you unhappy?" Murdock asked quietly.

      "No."

      "Have I hurt you?"

      "No."

      "Have you found someone else?"

      "No!" Murdock looked at her and she felt the awkwardness returning, but was determined to have this out with him. "I just don't know if I can take the pressure anymore, Murdock," she finally blurted out. She looked at him, his face faintly illuminated by one of the yard lights and found encouragement in his soft brown eyes. "It's not you. But this situation we're in. I honestly wonder sometimes if we're both nuts."

      Murdock grinned. "I am, for sure."

      Amy moved to the chair and sat down beside him. "When we first started this..."

      "Affair."

      "Affair. It was exciting, fun, satisfying and everything was like an adventure. I liked the secret meetings and the challenge of keeping it from Hannibal and the others."

      "And now?" he asked, softly.

      "Now, things are different," Amy admitted somewhat irritably.

      "How?"

      "Because, somewhere along the way I crossed over that fine line between just having an affair and having an AFFAIR!"

      Murdock chuckled with delight. "I thought you were supposed to be the wordsmith in this group. Listen to you. Your vocabulary is a bit limited tonight."

      "Oh, I know, but I can't think of the right words now. That's how upset I am. I'm tied in knots over this, Murdock."

      Murdock dropped his easy humor at the intensity of Amy's plea. "Okay, Babe. Just take it easy. I promise not to interrupt anymore."

      "Don't you see? I've started caring for you more than I wanted to. You've become very important to me."

      "Is that bad?"

      "Yes! God, yes it is bad. Murdock, I don't think I can go through another mission where I see you nearly lose your life and not be able to react to that the way I want. When you were shot today, my first thought was to go to you and hold you and make sure you were all right. But I couldn't because in the back of my mind was that damn wall, that rule that won't allow us to show our true feelings in front of the team." Amy looked at Murdock with tears in her eyes. "I don't want to go through this again."

      "We both agreed we should keep our personal relationship separate from our work with the team," Murdock reminded her, quietly.

      "I know. It sounded easy enough in theory but in reality it's not. It's not. And it's getting harder every case. Do you know how my insides churn when the bullets start flying and I see you darting for cover between them? I can hardly function for the fear."

      "I try not to take unnecessary risks, Amy."

      "We all try not to," she flared back. "But we're in a line of work where the chances are there like it or not."

      "You knew the situation when you got involved with me."

      "I know. But I never dreamed it would be so hard, Murdock. I never realized how difficult it would be to be near you and not be able to touch you or kiss you or turn to you for support. It's agony sometimes to be beside you in the van and all I can do is touch you with my eyes." Murdock had been silent throughout her little speech and she was afraid she had hurt him. "Do you understand?"

      "Of course I do. Completely. It's not any easier from this side, you know. I hate some of the things you have to do as part of the team. Dressing up like a hooker, luring slime like Collins up to your place, allowing them to paw you and slobber over you. I see that and I want to tear their heads off.

      Watching you during a mission, worrying if you'll be safe, wishing I could hold you, wishing it was Wednesday." A twinkle appeared in the brown eyes, that could be seen even in the dim yard light.

      Amy smiled and reached for his hand. "Wednesday's are the only bright spot sometimes. Has Hannibal ever questioned you about why you're always tied up on Wednesday's?"

      "No," the pilot answered with a chuckle. "He thinks those are my days for therapy."

      Now it was Amy's eyes that twinkled in the light. "Like I always say, if it's physical, it's therapy."

      Murdock laughed and pulled her close, the twinkle now replaced with affection and concern. "So, what do you want to do Amy? We both agree this affair has some very real drawbacks, some solid points against it. Do you want to call it off, end it here and now?"

      Amy turned away not wanting to see the look on Murdock's face when she answered. "Perhaps it's best."

      "It'll have to be your decision, Amy, because despite all the strain and stress connected with out relationship I don't want it to end. But, I won't try and talk you out of it if that's what you really want."

      "I don't want it to end but I'm going crazy. I don't know what to do. I can't function properly on the team if I'm consumed with worry for you and that's dangerous for everyone. Do we have a right to jeopardize three other lives just for our own selfish pleasures? I mean, Hannibal expects us all to be alert and ready for anything. How can we do that if we're worrying about each other all the time? If something happened to one of the guys because I wasn't thinking clearly or paying attention I'd never be able to live with myself. Never."

      Murdock rose and came to stand behind her, his hands resting easily in his pockets. "Are you finished?"

      She nodded, keeping her back to him.

      Smiling he turned her around and lifted her chin with his hand. "Now, listen to me. If anything happened to Face, what would you do?"

      Amy's dark eyes were puzzled. "What does that have to do with. . ."

      "Answer me."

      "I'd feel awful. I love him. He's a wonderful guy, a good friend. I'd grieve for him if. . ."

      "Okay, what about Hannibal or BA?"

      "The same. I'd feel lost, bereft if either of them died or. . ."

      "Exactly. So what makes you think it would be any worse if it was me?"

      "Murdock, I care for you in a different way, more intimate."

      "Sure, sure, but don't you see? We are all linked by love. It's all different kinds but that doesn't make the loss any easier. I love Hannibal more than anyone I've ever known in my life. Face is like a brother to me and BA," his smile flashed in the light. "Well, BA is my favorite toy. I just adore that ugly mudsucker."

      "Murdock."

      "Listen, if any of us were hurt or killed, the pain and loss would affect everyone. it's not any easier for me to see Face or BA injured. I worry about you on a mission but I worry about Hannibal and the others too. I worry about me!

      You can't separate those feelings. The only twist in our case is that we're tied in a way the others aren't. Ending our affair, Amy, won't end the worry. It'll still be there only then there won't be any way to comfort each other after the fighting an chaos is over."

      Amy stared up at him, a suspicious look on her face. "I thought you weren't going to talk me out of this?"

      Murdock grinned happily. "I lied. You can't believe anything a crazy man tells you."

      "You know, sometimes, you can be more persuasive than Face," she said softly. "I was so determined and now I'm not sure at all."

      "Maybe you need a little more convincing." Murdock drew her into his arms and bent down to capture her lips in a gentle kiss.

      Amy's arms moved to encircle his neck, returning his kiss with an invitation. When they drew apart she smiled at him. "I would miss that."

      "So would I," he admitted.

      "You're sure you're okay? Maybe you should get back to bed." The sight of the white bandage on his tanned face brought back all the earlier fears.

      Murdock's face contorted in pain. "Bed. Yes, I'd better get to bed. My head hurts, my eyes hurt, my legs hurt, my hands hurt, my knees hurt. . .I really need to find a bed."

      Amy put her hand on his forehead, playing along with his silliness. "Are you feverish?"

      "Oh yes. Very."

      "Then I'd better help you back to your cabin."

      "No. I don't think I can make it that far, yours is closer," he grinned wickedly.

      Amy nodded. "Good idea."

      Murdock wrapped his arms around her tightly and looked into her eyes. "I just need some TLC."

      "Won't BA miss you if you don't come back to bed?"

      "Not for an hour or so," he grinned.

      Amy giggled and allowed Murdock to lead her to her cabin. They slipped quietly inside closing the door softly behind them.



      Seated in a chair near the pool, on the other side of the sprawling oleander bush, Hannibal Smith released a sigh of relief. He'd been riveted to the chair ever since he heard Murdock first speak to Amy. Not wanting to disturb them, he felt compelled to sit quietly. The longer he listened to their conversation the more difficult it became to keep silent. He couldn't believe how blind he'd been! Amy and Murdock were having an affair right under his nose and he'd never suspected, never had an inkling of what was happening between them. He must be getting old. The thought depressed him considerably. Hannibal had always prided himself on his perceptions of people, especially of those who worked with him closely. The fact that he had totally missed the signs between Amy and Murdock gave him cause to think.

      He excused himself where Amy was concerned. After all, she'd only been on the team six months, four of which, he now knew, she'd been involved with Murdock. It was Murdock's involvement that rattled Hannibal's mind. He knew the man better than anyone. He could tell at a glance what Murdock was thinking, could tell from his voice what sort of mood he was in and depending on how bizarre his latest gimmick, just how lonely the pilot felt.

      While in Vietnam and during the subsequent years, Hannibal could always tell when Murdock was involved with a woman. He had a certain glint in his eye. But this time Murdock had really pulled a fast one. Hannibal hadn't seen any indication of the affair.

      Reluctant as he was to admit it, Murdock and Amy had done a good job of concealing their affections. Damn good. He smiled then, thinking of the blow the knowledge would give to Face's pride. He saw himself as the answer to every womans dream. To learn that the older and eccentric pilot had scored right under his nose would bruise his self-esteem no end. Hannibal sobered. Come to think of it, it wasn't doing his own any good either. Shifting uneasily in the iron chair Hannibal tried to organize his thoughts, mentally backtracking over the months to when Amy first joined the team. He tried to recall any glances, bits of conversation, any clue that he might have overlooked between Amy and Murdock. He ticked off the list of cases searching. He'd realized from the beginning that Amy liked Murdock. She found his unusual sense of humor and flights of fantasy amusing and she often played along with him, asking after his invisible dog, Billy, and listening to his ramblings about the Ouija board. He knew she often visited the pilot at the VA but then it wasn't that far from her apartment. Besides, she usually volunteered to pick the man up for a case since. . .suddenly the light began to dawn.

      Even so, he couldn't find one solid clue that would have made him or anyone else suspicious. Oh sure, Murdock and Amy often talked together. They seemed to gravitate toward each other but Hannibal had always chalked that up to the fact that Murdock was the easiest member of the team to talk to. Face tended to be a bit chauvinistic where women were concerned. BA never talked and himself, well, where Amy was concerned, business was business.

      He had to admit that Murdock and Amy had to be commended for their circumspect behavior. They had managed to keep their affair and their work separate. At least until now. Apparently, they had encountered a few snags along the way.

      Hannibal rose and started toward his cabin, glancing back at Amy's. Tonight when he'd first learned of the affair his immediate reaction was to tell them to stop. But now that he'd had a chance to get used to the idea he thought differently. He knew better than anyone the loneliness Murdock fought and if he and Amy had found a mutual solace in one another then why should he interfere? They had proven they could keep it a secret, had done a top notch job. If it became a problem for the team and it started to intrude upon their work and deter their cases, then he would take action. Until then, he'd ignore it and pretend he never heard their exchange in the oleanders.

      He stood in front of the cabin Murdock shared with BA now and on impulse silently opened the door to make sure the sergeant was asleep and hadn't missed the pilot.

      The faint light from outside fell across the bed, rousing the large man. "That you, fool? What you doing up?" BA mumbled sleepily.

      Hannibal didn't hesitate. In a whisper he hoped resembled Murdock's voice he replied, "Got a headache, Big Guy. Gonna get some aspirin. Go back to sleep."

      Satisfied with the ruse, BA rolled over and went back to sleep. Hannibal Smith smiled then turned his steps toward his room. At the door he stopped an checked his watch. A smile spreading slowly over his handsome face, then reached into his pocket for a cigar. He'd just discovered it was Wednesday. 
      
Back     Home     Email