"Dolly, don't!" Murdock yells barreling into Hannibal as the knife comes down. It slashes deeply into the pilot's shoulder and arm as his momentum carries all three of them to the floor.
"JAMMY!" the doll shrieks and tosses the knife away. "Your Fault!" she screams at Smith and Face as she gathers the groaning Murdock into her arms.
"I'll fix you, Jammy, you'll be all better," Dolly murmurs soothingly. She stands gracefully, casually hefting her big brother who grimaces at the jolt to his shoulder.
"Where do I take him?" she demands glaring down at the awestruck faces of Murdock's teammates.
"Dolly, I can stand. I'm okay," HM grumbles as his friends scramble to their feet.
"No. Where do I take him, Boss?" she says, adamant.
"Dolly... I..." Hannibal begins, still stunned by the swift change in Sophie and the easy strength this persona embodies.
"Don't talk. Show," the scarred doll commands.
Murdock nods subtly to his CO, for the moment resigned to the situation.
"Okay, Dolly, okay. Face, go check on B.A.," Hannibal snags the medi-kit and leads the Murdock's from the transport down a path to a house that seems to have been forgotten on a short spit of land by the water. He digs a bundle, left by their local fixer, out from under a warped board on the deck and uses the keys inside to open the door.
Dolly doesn't show any signs of strain or fatigue as she follows, patiently cradling the pilot in her arms. Hannibal leads her through the house to the kitchen, flipping on lights as they go.
She carefully sets Murdock on the edge of a low counter and thrusts an open hand to Hannibal, silently demanding the first aid kit.
'What would she have done if I hadn't brought it with me?' Smith muses handing over the kit.
"Well," Hannibal says clearing his throat, "I'll start bringing in equipment."
"No. You stay," Dolly states like a belligerent five-year-old, "I don't trust you."
"Dolly..," Murdock pleads from his seat on the counter. "He..."
"Hush," she says taking hold of her brother's shirts and gently maneuvering him out of them. "Tell Jammy..." she commands, casting a glance at Hannibal as she picks through the medical supplies.
"What!"
"Tell Jammy you attacked the old man," she says examining the gash that runs from Murdock's shoulder almost to his elbow.
"What? Aah! Dolly doll, that hurts," HM says through gritted teeth, fishing into his sister's pockets with his free hand. "What does she mean, 'you attacked the old man'?" he asks chomping on a pill.
"Captain, it's not that simple," Hannibal starts.
"Well, what happened, then?" Murdock's voice is raised and he moves to stand. Dolly's scarred and bloody hand on his chest stops him.
"Hurt's not bad, Jammy. Just muscles," she says soothingly and plants a sloppy kiss on his cheek. "Ready?"
Murdock looks balefully at his CO before nodding to his insane sister. "I'm ready," he says bracing himself on the counter top.
HM takes steadying breaths at the initial prick and tug of the precise stitches being sown into his flesh. "Talk to me, Boss, what happened?"
"Boss…" Dolly's compulsion echoes.
Hannibal starts from his reverie, mesmerized by the surgeon quality sutures at perfect intervals. "Well, it started with Face," Smith begins. "He was questioning the validity of what George's intel, which seemed like a case history of what he referred to as a 'phenomenon persona."
"Ssoo, ergh... he was telling you everything," Murdock hisses, digging for another pill in Dolly's pocket.
"Tried to, yeah. Face was saying that it would just make things worse, listening to a cra..." Hannibal stops himself and looks anxiously at Dolly.
"I get it," HM groans.
"I had no idea how... mean George could be," Smith says slowly.
Murdock pops an eye open and stares at his superior. "What did he say..?" the pilot asks warily.
Hannibal coughs and looks uncomfortable. "First he called Face Nancy," he smirks at that then gets serious again," then he spouted something about you spreading for Temp... that's when I overreacted and Dolly got my knife..."
"God dammit, George!" Murdock exclaims.
"No moving," Dolly commands continuing with her work.
"Even with Facey questioning him, George wouldn't turn on the bastard juice without a reason. Sorry Dolly," Murdock forces himself to stillness.
"Temp said there was no 'old man,'" Hannibal mumbles quickly looking away from the Murdock's.
"What was that, Hannibal?" HM pries.
The Colonel's reply is interrupted by shouting at the front of the house; he moves to investigate but is stopped short by the doll's sudden appearance in front of him.
Dolly advances, slowly backing Hannibal into a corner; he raises his hands in surrender.
"I said, 'you stay'," Dolly says and turns back to her stitching.
"Baby doll, you can't hold him hostage like that," Murdock says to his sister.
"Not hostage," she replies arranging HM's wounded arm to continue the neat line of sutures, "Prisoner."
HM blinks as though this reasoning had not occurred to him, he silently exercises every ounce of patience he has and looks over to his Colonel standing obediently in the corner like a child in timeout. The Captain and his CO share a quiet, intense moment of swallowing their laughter before Murdock is able to say in a shaky voice, "You were saying, Boss?"
"Boss," Dolly echoes again quietly, tying off the last stitch and proceeding with the final cleaning of the gash.
"Right. Faceman said there was no old man, that we were just indulging wild fancies," Hannibal explains struck again by the expert way in which Dolly bandages Murdock's wound.
"Ooooh, that's not good, Bossman."
"I didn't think so, either. That's what set George off on his abusive tangent but it's what he said about you that made me threaten him," Hannibal looks remorseful about the entire situation. "Dolly," he says gaining her attention, "I'm sorry HM got hurt."
She regards the Colonel skeptically, adjusting the make shift sling she fashioned from one of Murdock's ruined shirts.
A hop, skip and a jump put Dolly inches from Hannibal who despite his height and weight advantage recoils from the psychotic. Balancing on her tiptoes, she pecks a small kiss to the bottom of his jaw and pirouettes away, singing, "Okay Boss, I accept."
Hannibal touches a hand to the kiss, surprised again by the younger, more insane Murdock. "That's it?" he asks stepping tentatively from the corner.
HM looks just as surprised as Smith. "That's it," he replies.
Smith helps Murdock climb carefully down from the counter while Dolly continues her impromptu dance around the kitchen. The shouting from moments ago had been forgotten until returned suddenly along with heavy thumping in the hall.
"You don't know that, man!" B.A.'s deep voice bellows.
"I know what I saw, big guy! That woman could be the end of all of us!" Faceman shouts back, appearing in the large doorway of the kitchen, "Hannib..chrpmb..." Face had begun to turn into the kitchen proper when a twirling Dolly seized him by the throat and hoisted him into the air, slamming him bodily into the door frame.
"Face!" Baracus exclaims, having only seen the flurry of movement but not the wiry woman one-arming the larger man off the floor. "Shit," he mutters under his breath.
"Dolly!" Murdock and Hannibal yell.
"You apologize, too," Dolly says calmly, glaring up at the reddening Faceman.
Face sputters and gags but makes no noise that the doll can recognize as an apology. Her grip tightens in frustration, Face's eyes rolling back into his head.
"Dolly," Hannibal's gruff voice soothes, "he can't apologize from up there."
"Yeah, Baby doll," B.A. agrees, "that fool can't talk when his feet aren't on the ground."
Dolly looks doubtful but it would explain why the Face Man hasn't answered her.
"Mmmm, I guess," she says releasing her hold. Face falls heavily to the floor, coughing, tears streaming from his still bulging eyes. She stands over him, "Apologize," she says again.
"I'm... I'm..." Faceman draws deep, ragged breaths, not quite able to form words. He looks up to the scarred woman imploringly.
"Not to me," she says, hunkering down to be eye level with the lieutenant. "To Jammy." He looks at her, confused and disbelieving, like Hannibal, Peck flinches when she moves closer. As easily as she lifted him into the air, she hauls him to his feet and walks him over to Murdock. "Say you're sorry."
"I'm sorry, buddy..." Face blurts, still catching his breath.
"It's okay, Temp, thanks," Murdock replies. "See, Dolly, all better."
The doll beams a heart-melting smile at Face and pats him on the head.
"Hannibal, man, help me unload the rest of the supplies," B.A. says gruffly. "At this rate it will only take all night." He turns away from the averted disaster and tromps off to the transport.
"Right... Dolly, want to play a game? It's a racing game," Hannibal eyes the young Murdock, a hint of challenge in his voice.
"What do I win?" she demands, her body tensing.
"Umm... It's a secret prize," Smith says quickly. "Think of a prize..." he mutters to Murdock.
"How do I win?" she asks, eyes wide and sparkling, practically vibrating with the thrill of a secret prize.
"Well you have to bring more equipment and supplies from the transport than B.A..."
"But Bearcus has a head start!" Dolly whines, bouncing on her toes.
"Bears are slow?" Face puts in, Murdock stifles a chuckle.
The doll is running in place now, looking at the Colonel expectantly.
"Dolly, you have to drink this potion before you start," HM hands her a water bottle. "Ready..."
She chugs the water in seconds.
"Set..."
Dolly spins around in the doorway, her whole body ready to spring.
"Go!" Hannibal cries and she sprints off through the house, a loud bang signaling that she's through the front door.
"Good thinking, Boss," Murdock says straightening the medical supplies left over from his minor surgery.
"What was with the 'potion'?" Faceman asks lending a hand.
"Dolls don't drink, Lieutenant," Hannibal answers, HM nods agreement, and marches off to oversee the 'race.'
A few moments of quiet pass before a thunderous "WHAT THE...!" fills the air.
Hannibal's raucous laughter follows.