PLANES, TANKS, AND TUTUS
"B.A., turn in here," Face said, pointing towards a mostly abandoned rest stop. They had been on the road for about half an hour now and Lindsey was beginning to fidget. Not that her fidgeting was obvious really, except to someone who read body language for a living. B.A. glanced over at the conman and then over his shoulder. Without a word, he flicked on his turn signal and steered towards the exit. The van's sudden movement startled Hannibal from his reverie. Looking up, he saw Face directing B.A. towards a small building and grass marooned in the middle of a parking lot. The time table he'd given Barclay had, of course, accounted for stops to take care of the girl, but he had hoped they wouldn't be necessary. His contact, or lack thereof, with Barclay at the gas station was still gnawing at him. There were a number of logical reasons why the captain hadn't answered his calls or had yet to respond to the good news. None of them felt convincing to him yet. All he wanted was to deliver the girl and get his team out safely. As the van came to a stop, Face smoothly exited the vehicle and pulled the passenger side door open. He ignored the slight jump Lindsey gave at the sound. "My Lady," he said in a mock-British accent, offering a hand out with a slight bow, "May I escort you from your carriage?" He hoped the act would get the girl to trust him a little more. Women, well girls at any rate, loved the whole prince charming thing, right? After all, that was the theme every Disney movie since the dawn of time had played on. Prince charming existed, step-parents were evil, and he had more experience with the former then the later. To his surprise, Lindsey instead just gave him a look like the ones she had given Murdock. Maybe he had laid on the accent to thick. Did they even have accents in Disney movies? It had been years since he'd actually sat through one. He watched as Lindsey cautiously jumped down from the van. For a second, she looked ready to bolt and once again he had the distinct impression she didn't trust them. "Face," came Hannibal sounding slightly exasperated from the back, "Quit fooling around. We're on a schedule." He heard B.A. chuckle slightly at the comment and shot him a dirty look. "Yes, sir," he responded sarcastically, closing the door behind him. Looking down at Lindsey he held his arm out in front of him and said, "After you, my lady." Lindsey looked up at her rescuer somewhat in awe. This was the first time in, a week they said, she'd been allowed to go somewhere where she wasn't being dragged or carried. Standing up on the tippy-toes, she could just see over the hood of the van. She was certain she recognized this place. Walking forward, she headed towards the building at the center of the grass island. She felt herself tense as she saw her rescuer follow behind her. The closer the pair came to the building, the more familiar the place felt. It was the rest stop a few exits away from her home. She remembered stopping here once with her parents, when they were together. It had been one of the last times she'd seen her dad without his wheelchair. As they turned towards the women's restroom, she began to slow down till she was walking next to Face. "Everything alright?" he asked, looking down at her. Lindsey glanced up at him and back at the approaching door. She bit her lip nervously, debating whether she should say something or not. If it had been her father, he would have told her to brave and he'd have her back. But her rescuer (the others called him Face which was the dumbest sounding name she'd heard) wasn't her dad. "C-Can you watch the door?" she asked. It took Face a moment to realize what was wrong. Patting her softly on the shoulder, he nodded. "Don't worry," he said, for what felt like the millionth time that day, "No one's going to get you. Not again." Lindsey stopped, looking at him for a long time. There was something slightly unnerving about her stare. Face found himself reminded with one of the reasons he didn't like dealing with children too often. They were hard too fool for an extended period of time. Finally, Lindsey blinked, looking away. With a deep breath, she stepped away from him, moving slowly towards the bathroom door. "What's going on, boss?" B.A. asked the moment Face and Lindsey had walked from the van. At B.A.'s question, Murdock tilted his cap back away from his eyes. Since he wasn't allowed to fly the group to the girl's home, his part of the job was for all intents and purposes finished. Time to sit back, relax, and leave the driving to someone else. But even with his eyes closed and hidden under his hat, he could hear the worry in Hannibal's voice. Leaning forward, he shot his commanding officer an equally questioning look. Hannibal looked up, trading looks between his pilot and mechanic. With a sigh, he folded up the road map he had been skimming and a pulled a cigar out from a side pocket. He consider his answer as he lit it. "I haven't been able to reach Captain Barclay," he admitted finally. He waited as the pair took his word in consideration. "You sure he wasn't with his wife, boss-man?" asked Murdock. "Ex," amended B.A.. Hannibal had informed them all of Barclay's situation. Hannibal smirked. "First thing I considered, Murdock," Hannibal replied, "But that wasn't the impression I got from him. He'd be at the phone until he knew the mission was over." "Maybe it is a trap," B.A. offered. "That's one elaborate trap, then," Murdock replied, glancing in B.A.'s direction. "Another consideration," said Hannibal, puffing thoughtfully on the cigar, " Right now I'd say our best option, though, is to go with the plan as is. B.A., when we get to the Barclay residence, I want you to stay in the van. If something goes wrong I want to be able to make a quick exit. Murdock," a gleam had settled in the pilot's eyes, "Keep an eye out for trouble." "You can count on me, boss-man," Murdock replied enthusiastically. "He can count on you to see things that aren't there," B.A. muttered, half-sarcastically. "One time, Bosco," Murdock shot back, glaring at the corporeal, "One time and we got the dosage fixed...mostly." "Mostly?" B.A. exclaimed, "Mostly? I think you need to check your dosage again if all you can give us is a 'mostly', fool." "B.A., relax," Hannibal interrupted, hiding a laugh. He was glad to see the pair were taking the news better then expected. It had been nine months since they broken out of custody a second time. Not a day had gone by when one of them hadn't looked over his shoulder in case the DOD, CIA, or someone else descended on them. They'd even taken to insisting their clients go through elaborate screening measures before meeting with them and they never stayed in one place for long. Barclay's lack of response was more then enough to set up alarms for all of them. "Let's just get the job done," he finished, spotting Face and Lindsey out the front window. The girl looked a little paler then when she left, but she was now holding Face's hand, "There's a little girl who needs to get home." A.N.: Thanks to everyone for the reviews so far. Sorry for the late update. Hopefully, I'll be able to add more soon!
Back Home Miscellaneous Television Fanfic Page Next