A strong hand catches the stick mid-swing and yanks it away. "George!" a gruff voice shouts.

Young arms catch the off-balance 'old man' as 'he' starts to tumble to the floor.

George looks around bewildered, the space is empty again save for the Colonel and that pretty one.

"Colonel..?" George says quietly as the pretty one helps 'him' back to 'his' seat.

"You were talking to yourself, George," Smith eyes the shaking figure carefully, "want to tell me about it?"

"Heh myself," George responds fumbling with the safety belts.

Young, manicured hands reach in, secure the buckle and soothe the trembling and scarred digits. "Hey, it's okay. Can I get you anything?" Face offers.

George regards the handsome lieutenant warily. 'This one thinks we're crazy... This is the one that might be in the way,' 'he' speculates.

"Ah, no boyo, I'm fine now," the 'old man' replies.

"George," Hannibal says taking the seat next to 'him,' "this is my lieutenant, Faceman, do you mind if he joins us for this conversation?"

"The pretty one's name is 'Face?'" George cackles. "Not at all, sit down, boyo."

Peck straps himself in just in time to feel the acceleration of take-off. The cabin rumbles around them as they're pressed into their seats until that one funny moment of weightlessness at the end of the ascent.

"So Simon wants you to tell me everything," Smith says loudly over the muffled roar of the rotors.

George nods gathering his thoughts. "Studies have shown that in rare cases of severe or extreme comorbid psychoses there is a phenomenon persona," 'he' begins leaning toward the Colonel, "that always presents the same character traits, personal origin, and vocalization in separate subjects but has never appeared simultaneously in separate subjects... until recently. In most instances, this persona will manifest during a trauma of some kind and generally in the very young. Other personalities may or may not develop to help the host cope with this particular identity..."

"I'm sorry, uhhh, sir?" Face interrupts, "I don't understand what this has to do with... anything."

George gives the young man a look and turns 'his' attention back to Hannibal. "I did say 'everything', right?"

"You did, George," Smith replies, "Face, let the old man talk."

"Thank you, Colonel," the wavering voice says, "...where was I?"

"Other personalities de..."

"Oh come on, Hannibal!" Faceman blurts out. "You can't seriously be listening to this!"

"Faceman," Hannibal says in a warning tone.

George chuckles and shakes 'his' head, "Kids these days, huh Colonel?"

"You're my age, you cra..!"

"Lieutenant!" Hannibal shouts; a dangerous twitch at the corner of George's clouded eyes puts Smith on his guard.

George just laughs harder, a harsh, hacking laughs. 'His' breath catches and 'he' chokes and sputters as the pressure in the cabin changes. Hannibal claps 'him' on the back roughly.

"You alright old man?" Smith says to the coughing, laughing, scarred form, "it's just the descent."

"No wonder Sah fancies you so much, pretty boy!" George coughs, adjusting to the changing atmosphere.

"What! Hannibal, you don't believe any of this, do you? She's just..." Faceman doesn't realize what kind of potential damage he's spouting.

"Now, look here, boyo..!" George snaps.

"George please... Face just accept it!" Hannibal alternately pleads and commands, knowing or sensing the possible danger that's building. "The old man has information we need."

"No...!" Faceman's argument is interrupted by the jarring landing.

The lieutenant is the first to recover from the sudden impact. He's out of his seat standing over Hannibal and Murdock's sibling. Faceman shakes at the thought of 'just accepting' that an 'old man' personality has the information they need and that the rest of the team will 'just accept' and indulge the fancies of this crazy young woman.

"No way Hannibal! If anything, this is making it worse! How can you just indulge her like this? There's no 'old man'!" Peck shouts.

Smith unbuckles his and George's safety belts; George is cackling again, there's a malicious edge to the sound now. Hannibal can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as he helps the 'old man' to 'his' feet. 'This isn't going to end well,' he thinks.

"What're you scared of, Nancy?" George bellows.

"What did you call me?" Face responds trying to get closer to the Murdock.

Hannibal has his hands full of the trembling ire of the 'old man' while trying to keep himself in Face's way. Sophie's alternates are so developed; Faceman could easily kill her while George is dominant.

"You heard me, Skirt!" George sneers, "You afraid I want to bend you over the way that wacko pilot does?"

"Why you..." Face lunges.

"That's enough!" Hannibal is faster, deflecting the lieutenant and gaining a firmer hold on Murdock's sibling.

"Or maybe that pansy's already spread for you..." George is on a roll now.

Smith has the 'old man' by the shirt front and shakes 'him' roughly, "How Dare You!"

George looks fearful for a moment; 'his' clouded eyes widen and clear suddenly. A sadistic grin that favors Sophie's sharpened teeth appears.

"I knew you were in the way!" Dolly's child-like tone accuses. Hannibal's service blade seems to materialize in her hand, raised over head, ready to strike.