Murdock didn't lie, nor waste time. He called both Angel and Mrs. Baracus, then, once the initial outbursts and worry had subsided, he put them both on the line with him and they made travel arrangements. He was glad that B.A.'s girlfriend and mother both got along, and that Angel's schedule was flexible enough that she could drop what she was doing to go to Mrs. Baracus's home. They would meet him at the airport in two days, and he would bring them back to Stella's house.
Now that he thought about it, Murdock realized that Hannibal hadn't ever said anything about Angel and Mrs. Baracus knowing each other. So he made it all right in his head that it would be fine to get all three women together.
He was right. Stella already knew Angel marginally, of course, but even though it was this first meeting between her and Mrs. Baracus wasn't under the best possible circumstances, both women immediately fell in together as if they'd known each other for years.
"You takin' care of my boy?" Mrs. Baracus asked pointedly as she marched into the house ahead of Angel and Murdock, who were struggling with suitcases.
"Yes I am," Stella replied gravely.
B.A.'s mother looked over Stella, while Stella looked over her.
"You ain't too skinny for a white girl. That's good," Mrs. Baracus finally said, and Stella laughed at being called a girl.
"Come on back to the spare bedroom," she invited, and linked her arm with Mrs. Baracus's to lead her through the house.
Murdock and Angel paused for a moment in the foyer as the two women disappeared further into the house. Murdock let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.
"I'm glad that went well," he said in relief.
"Yeah. Me too."
"You go on. I'll take care of all this," he told Angel, indicating the suitcases. "Just head on back the hall. You can't miss it."
Angel looked at him wide-eyed, then slowly wandered away. Murdock puzzled over her behavior for a moment, realized he shouldn't be trying to evaluate anyone—he wasn't a trained sociologist or psychologist; how could he know how non-clinically insane people behaved?—then traipsed upstairs with the luggage.
When he came back down carrying his own duffel (he decided on his own that Mrs. Baracus should have a private bedroom), he was surprised to find Angel in the living room with Face and Hannibal.
"B.A. sleeping or something?" he asked.
Angel gave a strange half-shrug.
He narrowed his eyes at her and wished that both or either of the other two were with it enough to help him out. Hannibal was still asleep, however, and although Face had his eyes open and had obviously been talking to Angel, he didn't look like he comprehended anything going on around him.
"You okay?"
She half-shrugged again. "I guess."
"Stella and Mama Baracus aren't going to mind you going back there. They're probably wondering where you are."
Angel looked nervous . . . she looked scared, Murdock thought. He went to her, then crouched beside her.
"Bosco'll be happy you came," he said softly. "It'll help him that you're here."
She twisted her hands together, a nervous gesture Murdock had never seen from her before. "The way you talked about it, on the phone," she whispered. "It sounded like . . . like he was so out of it he wouldn't know who was here. It sounded so bad."
"Hey now," Murdock soothed, getting up to settle in next to her on the couch. He took her hands to slow their twistings; the movement made him anxious. "He's sick, sure, but he's not in a coma or anything. He's been sleeping lots—the meds Stella's been giving him make him tired, but he still comes around. Sometimes he wants something to eat. Most times he's just glad he's got someone looking after him."
Angel clamped her lips closed tightly, trying to physically keep her tears in. Murdock pulled her into a hug.
"Sure it's scary," he acknowledged. "But I gotta say, if you stick around with us long enough, seeing him with a virus isn't anything."
She wiped her cheeks and wondered what he meant by the cryptic remark. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, so she gave a shaky nod.
"Come on. I'll go back with you, if you want."
Angel nodded again, and allowed him to help her up. She told Face she'd be back; he nodded absently in response, and they left. Murdock kept his arm around her waist to guide her to the spare bedroom.
As they got there, Angel stiffened.
"I just don't like sick," she tried to explain. "I don't like seeing the people I know . . . be sick."
"I know, I know," he replied in a calm manner. "It's tough. But you're tougher, and you can do this."
She looked at him like she wanted to catch him in a lie, but finally had to nod again.
Carefully he escorted her into the room.
Whatever reservations she expressed outside disappeared once she saw B.A. propped by pillows on the bed. With a gasp she hurried to the bedside, the tears she'd denied in the living room flowing freely. She pushed passed Stella and leaned over the bed, grasping B.A.'s hand as she did.
He managed to pry open his eyes.
"Hi, baby," he murmured, squeezing her hand. Then he furrowed his brow and asked, "Mama and Angel? How'd you work that magic, fool?"
His question was directed to Murdock, but the pilot wasn't there to answer.