Extended summary: It's September 1987. After working for Stockwell for a year, Stockwell finally issues the A-Team full pardons. Or is he playing mind games with the team? Lola Sanchez returns with information that Stockwell isn't who he says he is, tells the A-Team that the pardons are fakes, and has a few surprises for them. Set about fifteen months (a year and three months) after "Tangled Web".

Author's notes:

1) Sambodia is my own making, along with Lola and another character who's obvious. The A-Team and other related characters are property of Stephen J. Cannell and whoever else owns the rights. I'm not making any money off of this, just avoiding homework at all costs.

2) I hate Frankie even more than I hate BA. BA once in awhile can actually have a good line while Frankie is just an annoying, greasy creep who got added to the cast for no good reason for the fifth and final season. Personally Frankie and Stockwell ruined the last season, though "Family Reunion," "Without Reservations," and "The Say Uncle Affair" were good ("Uncle" only because Dwight Schultz did a primo job of Frank Sinatra's work and Stockwell got his ass kicked).

Anyway, returning readers, I hope you enjoy this sequel as much as you did "Tangled Web", the first one. I don't know how I managed to get this done with the end of the semester drawing so near, but I did. I was thinking I wouldn't get this done until about May or June. Hopefully you appreciate the work that went into this if anything.

Ok, enough of that. Don't forget to review! Thank you! :~)

****

Hannibal Smith burst in the door to Stockwell's private jet, Empress One, almost knocking the hatch off its hinges. Carla the secretary jumped in her seat at her desk as the door slammed into the wall of the plane. The colonel's electric blue eyes burned with anger when he growled, "Where is he? Where's that slime ball boss of yours?"

Carla stuttered for the first time in the year Hannibal had known her, "He—uh—Stockwell—the general's busy and can't see you right now, Colonel Smith."

"I don't care if he's in conference with the President of the United States," Hannibal snarled, "I demand to see Stockwell NOW! I know he's here so don't you dare tell me different."

Hannibal eyed the door to Stockwell's office and grinned evilly. "I'll just let myself in, Carla," he said amiably. "No need for you to get up." The colonel strode over to the general's office door and kicked it down with one swift, solid kick before Carla could protest.

"STOCKWELL!" Hannibal bellowed even though the general sat six feet away at his desk. Carla tried to pull the colonel out of the office by grabbing his arm, but Hannibal easily shook her off.

"What seems to be the trouble, Smith?" Stockwell asked as if such an outburst was a common occurrence.

Hannibal planted himself firmly in front of the general's desk and glared at him with his ice blue eyes. "You almost cost me the life of one of my men on one of your damned missions!" growled the colonel. "It seems you conveniently left out a part about the leader of a terrorist group looking exactly like Murdock. When the villagers in the town caught sight of him, they fired on him in a desperate attempt to get rid of their tormentor. Luckily, the villagers were poor shots, but a bullet grazed Murdock so now he's being held in the hospital for observation. If that bullet had been just a little more to the left, he would be dead right now. You keep pulling junk like this lately, and each time someone comes inches from death! This isn't the first time you've left out vital intelligence, but I'm making it the last. I've talked to the rest of the team, and we're leaving! We'd rather face being hunted again by the government rather than having you toy with our lives anymore."

Stockwell barely smiled. "I'm afraid you can't quit, Smith."

"Give me one good reason why not, you slime-sucking rat," growled Hannibal.

The general ignored the colonel's comment and handed him several official-looking forms. "Because I'm finishing up the paperwork for your presidential pardons," Stockwell replied coolly. "You and your men can start packing your things and get ready to head back to whatever you deem normal lives whenever you want. I won't be assigning you any more missions."

Hannibal looked from Stockwell to the papers in his hand and back again several times before he murmured, "What?"

"You heard what I said, Smith," continued the general. "You and your team have completed every mission I've given you to my satisfaction, so I'm putting in a good word for all of you. Soon you'll all be free men again."

"What's the catch, Stockwell?" drawled the colonel. "You can't just be doing this out of the goodness of your heart, if these papers are even genuine. What do you get out of this?"

"I get you out of my hands and the resulting peace and quiet," Stockwell replied. "There is a limit to how many times I'll clean up your team's messes, Colonel."

Hannibal jabbed the papers in his hand like a weapon at Stockwell's face. "I'd tell you exactly how much I loathe you right now, but unfortunately I have to hold my tongue if I want to take these pardons and investigate them through my own sources," the colonel whispered threateningly. "I'm taking these. I'm sure you have them in triplicate, just like all other pencil-pushing desk jockeys who don't have the first clue about field maneuvers."

The colonel drew himself up to his full height and glared icily at Stockwell before he marched out of the office and off the jet.

****

BA, Face, and Frankie lounged on the couch back at the "safe house" Stockwell used to keep the team under his thumb watching some college football game. No one cared who was playing, only that the three of them were finally motionless. Face leaned his head over the back of the couch as if the small movement drained all energy from his body. "I can't believe how botched that last assignment was!" he moaned. "We fly halfway around the world only to get shot at by the people we're supposed to be helping!"

"At least you didn't get shot like Murdock," BA replied.

Frankie twitched his head, a nod Face guessed, in agreement. "Yeah, poor guy. Almost didn't make it home with him laid up like that. When's he coming home?"

"Doc said tomorrow if he seems to be OK," answered Face.

BA snorted, "The VA might say he's sane, but there ain't no way his head's OK."

Face, BA, and Frankie turned toward the front door when they heard it open and slam shut. Hannibal appeared in the doorway to the living room with a fist full of papers, an expression of confusion, anger, and possibly a trace of happiness mixed together on his face.

"Hannibal, what is it?" Face asked, perplexed.

Frankie looked at the papers Hannibal held in his hand. "Yeah, Johnny, what's that you got?"

The colonel took a deep breath and answered, "If Stockwell's telling the truth, and from the look of these papers I'd say he is, we're finally getting pardoned."

For what felt like an eternity, the three men on the couch sat in silence, absorbing this new information. From reading their identical expressions, Hannibal surmised that Face, Frankie, and BA were thinking the same thing: Pardoned fifteen years after the Bank of Hanoi fiasco and one helluva long year working for Stockwell? It doesn't seem possible!

Finally Face spoke. "Pardoned?" he asked incredulously. "You mean as in the presidential kind?"

"The whole enchilada?" Frankie added.

"No more workin' for that jerk Stockwell?" interjected BA.

"Yes to all of the above," Hannibal answered as he handed the other three the papers he "borrowed" from Stockwell. "See for yourselves. I think that these are legit, and we've had plenty of experience in faked documents."

The lieutenant shuffled through the forms, inspecting them closely. "I'd say that these forms are the real thing, Hannibal." He grinned broadly. "Looks like we're finally going to be leaving this—upscale jail behind us!"

"So when do we get to go to the White House and meet the President?" asked Frankie, grinning as well.

"More importantly, when to we get to leave here?" Face interjected.

"Believe it or not, Stockwell said that we can leave any time we want to," answered Hannibal. "While we wait for the paperwork to go through, he's not assigning us any more missions, of course, and wants us outta here as much as we want to leave."

At this news, Face, Frankie, and BA all leaped off the sofa, Frankie whooping with delight. Face grinned so broadly Hannibal thought that any moment he'd join Frankie in yelling and jumping for joy. BA, on the other hand, looked about as happy as a grizzly bear on an average day…just like he always did.

"I'm packing right now!" Frankie exclaimed. "I say we get outta this place tonight!"

Hannibal caught the Puerto Rican's arm before he could dash out of the room. "Not so fast, Frank. You forgot about Murdock in the hospital. We can't leave until he gets checked out."

"That's right," agreed Face. "When Murdock hears about these pardons, those nurses won't be able to keep him in bed!"

Frankie looked between Face and Hannibal. "We can still pack though, right?" he asked.

"Knock yourself out, Frank," replied the colonel. "That way we can swing by the hospital and pick up Murdock as soon as possible."

The four men stood in silence for a full minute, letting the full weight of the situation sink in. Finally Face broke the silence. "Sixteen years on the run," he breathed, "and we're finally free."

"I don't know how you guys did it," said Frankie. "I didn't think I would make it through this past year!"

"With some of the dumb stuff you did, I'm surprised you did," BA retorted.

 "So where do you think you'll go, Hannibal?" Face interjected, trying to keep an argument from spoiling the good mood.

"I was thinking about heading back to LA to check out the acting scene," replied the colonel. "Since I've been gone from Hollywood for more than a year, I'm out of a job as the Aquamaniac. Maybe now with a full presidential pardon, I can do some real acting for a change."

"Don't worry 'bout it, Johnny," Frankie cut in. "If you can't get a job acting, you can help me out with my special effects work once I get back out to LA."

"I like you, Frank, but not so much that I'll work for you," replied Hannibal. "What about you, BA? Where do you want to go now that you're a free man?"

"I was thinkin' about goin' to see my momma, then goin' back out to LA to the daycare center," the sergeant answered. "They always need someone around to take care of the kids. What about you, Faceman?"

"Oh, me?" asked the lieutenant. "I think I'll follow you guys out to LA and check out the Santa Monica area. Find a job out there that suits my talents. Actually, I think I might ask Murdock to room with me. Great opportunities to double date in Santa Monica."

"What about Santa Monica, Faceman?" asked a familiar Texas drawl from the front door.

"Murdock!" Face exclaimed. "What are you doing out of the hospital?"

The pilot looked at his feet sheepishly. "I—uh—released myself," he answered, fingering a bandage on his head. "I know the symptoms of serious head injuries, an' I didn't have any, so I left. Pulled a great scam, too! Even you'd be proud of how good I did, Face."

Hannibal grinned as he lit a celebratory cigar. "Looks like the gang's all here. Now you can go pack, Frank. I think we'll be out of this state tonight after all."

Murdock looked around at his friends, confused and at a loss for what had transpired between the time they'd dropped him off at the hospital and now. "What's goin' on?" he asked. "Did that turkey Stockwell assign us another mission?"

The pilot couldn't believe it was possible, but Hannibal's grin doubled in size. "Actually, we're going home, Captain," the colonel replied with a twinkle in his electric blue eyes. "Stockwell's putting through the paperwork on our pardons and told us to get the hell outta here. We're only too happy to oblige, of course."

Murdock's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. "You're kidding!"

"No, he's not," Face answered, smiling. "We're all leaving here tonight for LA and home. Speaking of which, I was thinking that the two of us could get a bachelor pad together out by Santa Monica."

Murdock howled in joy and grabbed Face in a bear hug. It had been a long time since anyone on the team heard the pilot howl like that. "Of course, Faceman! Y'know I've missed havin' a roomie since I got released from the VA. This'll be great!"

The pilot whooped again and tried to embrace BA as well, but the sergeant growled. "Oh, c'mon, BA!" whined Murdock. "Sixteen years after the Bank of Hanoi job an' we're all finally regular citizens again. I say that calls for a celebration!"

"I don't care," BA grumbled. "I'm gonna hafta fly to Chicago to see my momma, an' I don't need your crazy fool antics when I hafta fly."

Hannibal stepped in between Murdock and BA before the confrontation could escalate. "BA, you don't have to fly. You can drive the van out to Chicago and then LA. Sure, it'll take longer, but since when do you care about that?"

"I don't hafta fly? I don't hafta fly!" BA exclaimed and grabbed Murdock up in a bear hug that should've crushed the pilot. "That does call for a celebration!"

The colonel managed to separate the sergeant and the captain and continued, "Now that everyone knows the good news, I say we pack up and head out."

Murdock, Face, BA, and Frankie all agreed in various ways ranging in volume. It's been a long time since any of them have been this happy, thought Hannibal as he watched his men dash off to pack up their things.

****

A week later, Face and Murdock pulled up in Face's Corvette in front of a stylish beach house on the outskirts of Santa Monica.

"You're right, Faceman," Murdock said as he vaulted over the passenger side door and gave the house a once-over, "she is a beauty! How'd you manage to scam a place like this? With a great back porch to boot!"

"I didn't scam it," replied Face as he hopped out of the driver seat. "I got this place perfectly legal. No fake names, no house-sitting deals…"

The pilot shot his friend an incredulous look as if monkeys would fly before he'd believe Face had gotten anything by walking the straight and narrow. "You're pullin' my chain. How did you get this place really?"

"I swear I'm telling the truth, Murdock!" exclaimed the lieutenant. He pulled out a document from his coat pocket and handed it to his friend. "It's the deed to this place. I managed to make some pretty good investments over the years so I had enough to buy this house."

Murdock scanned the document and handed it back. "I never thought I'd see the day, Face. At least that just goes to prove your system of bookkeeping over the years works."

"C'mon, Murdock, I'll show you around the place," Face said, slinging a friendly arm around the pilot's shoulders and steering him into the house. "Great open floor plan, kitchen, dinette, two bedrooms, bathroom, and my favorite part—sliding glass doors that give a fantastic view of all the lovely female joggers, sunbathers, and swimmers."

Murdock stood in the middle of the living room, the room the front door opened into, and absorbed everything his eyes could see. The whole bungalow was fully furnished with a sofa, coffee table, and two armchairs in the living room. The room blended smoothly into a small table with four chairs, presumably the dinette, which opened up onto the back deck through sliding glass doors. The kitchen was separated from the living room and dinette by a counter and cupboards attached to the ceiling. All the colors in the house were either beige or off-white like all the other places Face ever had.

This kinda reminds me of that place Face had when Doctor Richter got snatched by those South American mercenaries, thought Murdock. He suddenly stiffened in recollection of stumbling into Face's beach house, drugged up to the gills, and collapsing on the floor. He still didn't know how in the world he managed to get that far across town in that shape. However, thinking about that incident, he remembered the blonde woman who switched her identity every half hour or less…leading to the half-buried memory of Lola Sanchez.

Face, concerned by his friend's introspective gaze and sudden shudder, laid a supportive hand on his shoulder, waking Murdock from his trance. "Hey, you OK?" Face asked.

"Oh, yeah, sure, Face," replied the pilot. "Just…hard to absorb all that's happened in the past week, that's all."

Face wasn't completely convinced his friend was fine, but he knew better than to pry. "Why don't we go grab our stuff out of the 'Vette and get settled in?"

"Sounds good to me. Race you!" Murdock dodged past his friend and dashed to the Corvette before Face even reached the bottom step. "C'mon, Faceman," the pilot whined, "we don't got all day to wait for you to mosey on over here with the trunk keys!"

Face smiled to see his friend in a better mood and opened the trunk. Both men grabbed the few bags they had and carried them into the house. Face and Murdock played the pilot's version of rock-paper-scissors to decide who got what room, then started to unpack.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. "Murdock, I forgot to tell you," Face called across the hall, "I invited the girls next door over. Identical twins—blonde with legs up to here! Carol and Freda Rivers…Carol's a flight attendant who wants to learn how to fly a Cessna so the two of you should get along great!"

Murdock kept humming some Mozart opera loudly, apparently not hearing his friend. Face smiled to himself as he went to go answer the door as the bell rang again.

Face opened the front door and came face-to-face with a tanned woman with black hair falling just past her shoulders, dressed in a white t-shirt and ratty blue jeans. She was obviously not Carol or Freda. Something seemed oddly familiar about the woman as she looked up at the lieutenant through mirrored sunglasses.

"May I help you?" Face asked tentatively.

The woman smiled oddly, accentuating four claw-like scars on her left cheek. "You don't remember me, do you, Face?" she replied in a familiar low-toned voice. "Then again, it has been more than a year since we last saw each other."

"Lola Sanchez!" Face growled. "How could I forget the woman who hog tied me, threw me in a cell, and held me along with my best friends in a government installation? What are you doing here, stirring up more trouble or did you escape from prison?"

"Neither," answered Lola. "I came because--"

"Who's at the door, Face?" Murdock interrupted as he came bounding to the door. Once he caught sight of the visitor, the pilot paled and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Lola Sanchez!" Murdock exclaimed, contempt dripping from every syllable. "Why the hell are you here? Shouldn't you be serving another ten years or so in a New Mexico penitentiary?"

Lola bit her lip and took off her sunglasses. "Actually, no, and I owe you guys for that—especially you, Murdock."

"How do you figure that?" Murdock asked as he folded his arms across his chest. This had better be one hell of an explanation, he thought.

Lola took a deep breath and answered, "The district attorney failed to prosecute. He said that there wasn't enough substantial evidence to get a conviction with the star witnesses, the A-Team, being court-martialed at the same time. Also, I found out that I was eight weeks pregnant about two months after I was arrested."

Several seconds passed as the information sunk into the minds of the two men. "What do you mean you were pregnant?" asked Murdock quietly.

Lola leaned down to her left, just out of Face and Murdock's line of sight. When she stood up, she held a baby about six months old, dressed in blue coveralls, in her arms. "I mean," Lola said, her voice wavering slightly, "that this is your son, Murdock. Meet Billy, my Chiquito."

The pilot stood rooted in his spot, his mouth opening and closing mechanically for several intense moments. Finally, Murdock whispered, "That baby can't be mine. We used protection, remember?"

"We didn't in the shower," Lola retorted as she settled Billy onto her hip. "Remember we figured that nothing would happen? Well, on March 20th, Billy here was born."

Murdock thought a minute, then said, "Ok, I know how to figure this out. Lola, what's my blood type?"

Lola shifted Billy to her other side. "Ummm…I don't know exactly," she replied, "but I remember that you said that you and BA are the same type."

"Ok, what's the baby's type?" asked the pilot.

"I only remember it because it's so rare," the brunette answered. "Billy's AB negative."

Murdock's heart flipped in his chest. The baby has my blood type, he thought. It could actually be mine! That is, if Lola's telling the truth and her blood type is A, B, or AB negative. "And what's your type?"

"A negative," answered Lola. "Why?"

Murdock took in a deep breath. "Because I'm AB negative. If you're telling me the truth, that baby could be mine."

"He is yours!" Lola exclaimed. "Stop referring to our baby as 'it' and 'that'! He has a name, for crying out loud!"

"Look!" Murdock hissed. "Maybe your memory's a little rusty, but the last time we saw each other, you lied to me—to the entire team—about everything you are. What makes you think that I might believe anything you say now?"

Lola sighed, "Ok, if you won't believe what I say, then just look at Billy. He has your eyes, along with at least half of your other facial features."

The brunette put her foot on the top step and balanced Billy on her thigh so that Murdock and Face could see the baby's face clearly. With the pudginess associated with babies, it was hard to discern any similarities between Murdock and Billy—except the eyes. The pilot had no doubt that the baby had his bright, chocolate brown eyes.

"Face," Murdock whispered, "do you see what I see?"

The lieutenant finally spoke after his long silence. "It's a baby, so what? I bet you anything she showed up here with someone else's kid to trap you into paying child support, Murdock."

Lola's eyes burned with indignation. "How dare you accuse me of doing anything like that!" she spat. "If I learned anything from our first encounter, it was that lying only gives you scars and pain. What I said is the God honest truth. Billy, this baby as you call him, is Murdock's son, and I only came by because I was in the neighborhood, saw the Corvette parked in the driveway, and decided that if Murdock was indeed here, he might like to know that he has a son. I didn't come for child support or anything else like that. End of story!"

Lola turned away and placed Billy back in the stroller that she parked just out of sight of the door. She put her sunglasses back on and said with a quavering voice, "I see that I made yet another mistake. I should've known better, I guess. Sorry for breaking the informal restraining order, gentlemen. I'll be on my way now."

With that, Lola turned and marched down the front walkway, pushing Billy's stroller in front of her.

"Can you believe the nerve she has to show up here and try to feed us that cock and bull story?" Face asked Murdock as he watched Lola retreat down the block. "That's just about the most pathetic con I've ever heard." The lieutenant turned to his friend, wearing an overly confident grin, but his face fell when Murdock glared at him.

"She's right, you know," the pilot muttered. "We didn't use protection in the shower that one morning. I could be the father of her baby, and if I am, I have a responsibility to him. You know that one of my worst fears is that I'll end up like my father, and I'm not about to walk out on my son because his mother betrayed me. Yet you can just dismiss everything as a lie and smile at me like you did me a favor? I'm getting to the bottom of this, and there's no way you're stopping me, Face." With that, Murdock jogged down the steps and down the sidewalk after Lola and Billy.

I don't want to see you get hurt again, Murdock, Face thought as he watched his friend catch up to Lola and her stroller. I know how much you want to believe her, but I've gotta call Hannibal and see what he thinks is up. The lieutenant retreated inside the house to call up his commanding officer and advisor.

Down the block, Murdock slowed to a walk and called after Lola, "Wait up, Lola, I want to talk to you."

The brunette stopped, but didn't turn to face the pilot. "Why are you chasing after me?" she asked. "You obviously want nothing to do with us. What's left to talk about?"

"Look," replied Murdock, "You just dropped one huge bomb on us back there and we didn't know how to respond. Face was just trying to protect me if you're lying, but he doesn't know or understand everything that happened between you and me."

"So what you're saying is that you're sorry and that you believe me?" Lola huffed.

"No, not exactly. I'm saying that I want to believe you and I'm sorry Face was so blunt, but I don't totally trust you either. But I'm not going to abandon this child if he is indeed mine."

Lola sighed and looked up at Murdock. "Well, it's better than nothing, I guess," she sighed. "You want to take a walk with Billy and me around the block, or will Face get mad?"

"Right now I'm not interested in what Face thinks," replied Murdock as he and Lola walked along together with the stroller. "Tell me about this son of mine. You said you named him Billy?"

Lola smiled. "Yeah, Billy John Sanchez. I had a hard time naming him. I wanted to name him after you, but I knew you hated your first and middle names. So I named him Billy, after your dog. I figured it was the closest I could come to naming him after you. John of course is for Hannibal. I figured you'd want to name your son after your commanding officer and friend."

"I can already sense that this kid's gonna have trauma from being named after an imaginary dog."

Lola stopped dead in her tracks. "I don't remember you ever referring to Billy as being imaginary, Murdock," she whispered. "What happened to you? Was it—was it what I did to you?"

"No, I was released from the VA a little over a year ago," the pilot replied and smiled. "I'm certifiably sane."

"So you've been living on your own for a year?" asked Lola. "I've been so out of touch with any news on you guys, I have no idea what's being going on with the A-Team. What happened? What exactly happened to you and the rest of the team? I heard some crazy rumors about Hannibal, Face, and BA getting caught and executed for murder, then escaping somehow."

"We got pardoned! Well, the guys just got pardoned and I got released from the VA. We had this run-in with this CIA spook who made us work for our freedom for a year, but we finally filled his quota after I almost got my brains sprayed all over Sambodia on the last mission."

 "Dios mio, Murdock!" exclaimed the brunette. "What in the heck has been going on with you since I last saw you for you to almost get killed?"

 "Where do you live anyway?" Murdock asked, changing the subject as he continued walking along next to Lola and the stroller. "Can't be too far if you walk around here."

"Actually I drove here," answered Lola, naturally ignoring Murdock's change of subject since she knew he didn't like to talk about sensitive subjects. "My neighborhood isn't exactly the best place for a single mother to go for a stroll."

"And where is that?"

"South central LA."

Murdock froze midstride. "You live in Watts?" he exclaimed.

"It's just outside Watts actually," Lola replied nonchalantly.

The pilot grabbed the brunette by her shoulders to stop her. She looked up into his concerned brown eyes. "You can't raise our son, if this baby is indeed ours, outside Watts," Murdock murmured.

Lola forced a chuckle. "What else am I supposed to do?" she asked. "It's the only place I can afford right now since I'm between jobs. I've got nowhere else to go."

"Don't you have friends who could take you in until you get a new job?"

The brunette hung her head. "I don't have any friends." Tears edged her voice. "You should at least remember that, even with your intermittent memory loss. I haven't heard from any of my 'friends' from that Alliance Tech fiasco since they escaped and Colonel Decker arrested me. I have no friends in my neighborhood either. Only person I've got is my Chiquito, Billy."

Murdock mulled over his response for a long time. Finally, he said, "Look, what you did to me an' the rest of the team a year ago was horrible. But for some reason, I'm willin' to forgive you for what you did to me an' give you a second chance to make things right. I don't want you livin' in South Central with a baby. I'll talk to Face an' see if he'll agree to lettin' you stay with us until you get yourself back on your feet—but only if you promise to never lie again an' tell us everything about that Alliance job, an' I mean everything."

"Look," sighed Lola, "it's not that I don't want your help, but I don't want you to make any decisions before you do one simple thing for me."

Murdock asked confusedly, "Like what?"

The brunette leaned down and picked Billy up from the stroller. "Hold your son and tell me if you still want to help him. If you don't after you hold him, I'll be gone forever. If you still want to help, then I promise to answer any questions you or your friends ask me about the Alliance Tech mishap."

"That seems simple enough," the pilot shrugged. He held out his arms and Lola gingerly placed Billy in a comfortable position in them.

Billy gazed up into Murdock's soft brown eyes with his identical miniature ones and smiled. The pilot couldn't help but return the grin since the baby's reminded him so much of his own.

My God, Murdock thought as he stared transfixed at the baby in his arms, this feels so natural, just holding a baby…I thought this would be awkward, but he feels like he belongs in my arms—because he is my son.

"You were absolutely right, Lola," murmured the pilot without looking up. "Billy does have my eyes and my smile."

"So you still want to offer us your help?" asked the brunette.

Murdock finally managed to tear his eyes away from his son. "Are you insane? Of course I still want to help you! Let's go talk to Face. He can't say no to this kid!"

"Ok, if you're sure about it," replied Lola. She held out her arms to take back Billy.

"Do you mind if I carried him back to the house?" Murdock asked, staring at Lola with a mournful, pleading look in his eyes.

Lola smiled broadly. "I was hoping you'd say that. Otherwise I would've known you really didn't want to be around either of us."

"Did I ever tell you that you have a very pessimistic view of people, Lola?" joked Murdock as the three of them turned around and headed back towards the beach house.

"Yeah, that's because I haven't run into many good people like you and your friends," the brunette replied.

Back at the beach house, Face had finished giving Hannibal the news on the unexpected visitor. A long pause on the other end of the line followed Face's speech.

Finally, Hannibal said, "Let me get this straight. Lola Sanchez, the woman we ran into last June and almost fed us to Colonel Decker, is over there right now with a baby she says is Murdock's son? What did Murdock say?"

"He said that it is possible Lola's telling the truth and the kid is his," Face replied. "I've got a bad feeling about this, Colonel. You know Murdock hasn't been the same since…What I'm saying I guess is that I'm not sure he can handle this situation without getting emotionally attached. Who knows what Lola's up to now?"

Face turned toward the front door as he heard it open. Murdock entered, carrying baby Billy, followed by Lola. "Hey, who you talkin' to, Faceman?" asked the pilot.

"Is that Murdock?" asked Hannibal. "Let me talk to him."

Face covered the receiver and handed it to Murdock. "It's Hannibal," he replied. "He wants to talk to you."

The pilot handed Billy back to Lola before answering Face. "You called Hannibal?" Murdock asked in a threateningly low tone. "What, you don't think I can handle this myself so you call Hannibal? He's got better things to do. Besides, this doesn't concern you!"

"Look, Murdock, just talk to him and we'll fight later, Ok?" Face said, exasperated.

"Hey, I'll leave if I'm causing problems," Lola interrupted while rocking Billy. She looked cautiously between the two men as if she expected a fistfight to break out.

"No, you're staying until we sort this out," replied Murdock as he took the phone from Face. "Hi, Colonel," he said into the phone. "What's up?"

"Is there any truth to Lola's story?" asked Hannibal. "This hardly seems like a coincidence that she shows up on your doorstep with a kid just as we get our freedom back."

"She was takin' a walk in the neighborhood an' saw Face's 'Vette," Murdock drawled. "There's no underhanded scheme there."

"So she just happens to live in the neighborhood?" Hannibal asked incredulously.

"Actually, she doesn't," replied the pilot quietly.

"And that didn't send up any red flags? What--"

"Listen! She's living in South Central with Billy. I can't let her raise our child in that place!"

"Billy? 'Our' child? So you believe her story then?"

"Hannibal, you'd believe her too if you saw Billy. He's got my eyes, no doubt about it. He's mine an' I'm takin' responsibility for my actions. Besides, Lola promised she'd answer any questions we ask her about the Alliance Tech fiasco."

"Don't do anything just yet. I'm going to come over there right now and talk to Lola myself. It's not that I don't think that you can handle yourself around her, Murdock, it's that I don't trust her to be honest with you."

The pilot mumbled a reply before Hannibal hung up. Murdock glared at Face as he hung up the phone.

"Where do you get off?" growled the pilot. "I'm not a child! I don't need you or Hannibal or anyone else for that matter to hover over me all the time! You're supposed to be my friend, Face! Friends don't go an' call up someone else to tell them to interfere with a friend's life."

"Murdock, I know how you felt about Lola, but you have to remember what she did to you, to all of us!" Face exclaimed.

"You're wrong!" the pilot shot back. "I do remember what she did all too well. And you have absolutely no clue about how I feel about anything!"

"Murdock--"

"No! Listen for a minute. I think—no, I know Billy is my son, and I'm not about to abandon him just because you think I can't deal with Lola. And now because you seem to think that I can't handle myself, Hannibal's coming over here to talk to Lola himself. Why can't you understand that I'm a perfectly capable adult?"

"Look, Murdock…" Face began as he went to put a friendly hand on the pilot's shoulder.

Murdock glared at Face and slapped his hand away. "I don't need your pity!" he hissed. "Leave me alone!" The pilot shoved Face hard, sending him sprawling into the sofa.

"Stop it! Stop it!" cried Lola, breaking her long silence. Face could only stare in shock at Murdock, his friend who had pushed him away when he tried to help. "The both of you stop it!" Lola cried again, tears stinging her eyes. "You two are best friends! You shouldn't be fighting like this. This is all my fault. I'm going now, forever this time. I should never have come here in the first place."

The brunette turned and ran outside, clutching a now crying Billy tightly to her chest.

Murdock and Face gazed at each other for what felt like ages before the pilot finally spoke. "Face…I—I don't—I mean…"

"It's OK," Face replied and gave his friend a small smile. "Like you said awhile ago, one of the best things about our friendship is that we don't have to waste time tripping over our tongues apologizing."

Murdock smiled and helped Face to his feet. "Now you'd better go get Lola," Face said, "before she disappears again, this time with…your kid."

"Thanks, Faceman," Murdock whispered, and then dashed out the door after Lola and Billy.

****

To be continued…