"Go out the back door," Hannibal said in the panic of shooting. "Face, make sure she doesn't go anywhere." He pulled Francesca toward the lieutenant.
She tripped in the exchange, "You could stand to be a bit more careful."
"Careful isn't in our vocabulary," Murdock shot out the door.
Francesca looked down at her feet as she was pushed out. They made there way toward her car a little farther through the forest. "Where are we going?" B.A. looked to Hannibal, frowning.
Face forced her into the back seat, making sure she couldn't pull anything. Murdock hopped in next to him, "This is a really nice car."
"Why thank you," Francesca smiled.
He nodded, "So, where to?"
Hannibal stuck the keys into the ignition, "Anywhere but here."
"It seems to me I've heard that statement before," she shifted uncomfortably.
He rolled his eyes and drove out as the gun shots came closer. B.A. rolled down the window to shoot at the unknown visitor.
"Hey, I think we could stand to do a little research on this," Face pushed the girl a bit closer to the door.
She growled back, "Take it easy on me. I'm new at this whole captive thing." There was venom behind the word captive, directed toward Hannibal. He found a road leading to a highway and drove through the night.
Francesca's ankles had been bound so she couldn't move whatsoever. Relaxing, she plotted her moves carefully. She wouldn't put up a fight. Not yet. Maybe Hannibal would believe she had a soft spot for him and he'd trust her. But then she'd snap. She had only gotten this far in her thoughts when she drifted off into a tumultuous sleep.
Flashback- Big Wedding. And We Laughed Pt. 1
It all began with a wedding.
Thomas Barrett, or as he was called, Tommy, had prepared himself for this day for years. And now it had come. The ceremony had gone off without a hitch and he and his new wife were enjoying the reception. Unfortunately, a few guests weren't. Two in particular.
One was the one and only Colonel John "Hannibal" Smith. He wouldn't have even been there if he hadn't promised Tommy. Of course, he wouldn't break a promise, especially to a young man who had given his life to the military.
Tommy kicked his feet around, coming up to Hannibal, "Having fun?"
"If it makes you feel better, yes," Hannibal chuckled.
"Oh, you're just not trying," Tommy held up his glass of wine.
Frowning, the colonel crossed his arms, "What am I supposed to be trying to do?"
"How long has it been since you've gotten a little action?"
The colonel shook his head, "I don't think this is particularly appropriate."
"Too long ago, right?" Tommy sipped his glass.
"You know it's about my work, nothing else," Hannibal smirked.
The other was Tommy's younger sister, Francesca. Francesca didn't enjoy a lot of big, family functions. In fact, she hated them. Everyone was buzzing about just as she sipped a cocktail, wishing for a cigarette.
Tommy looked over at his sister, who was sitting by the big glass windows, staring at the snow that flitted down from the clouds. He stepped away from his bride for a moment and went to Francesca, "Hey, Checka."
She gazed at her brother, "Major Barrett, how're you doing?"
"I'd be doing better if my baby sister was having a bit of fun," he pouted.
Francesca laughed and stood up, "You know I hate this kind of stuff. And there are no hot, single guys here. You'd think Mel would have a hot brother or something."
Tommy pushed her forward, "Come on, Barrett. If you can kill a man with your bare hands, you can find a little bit of fun at a wedding."
"Two completely different things," she shook her head. Taking both of his hands, she explained, "Killing a man is how I have fun. That's why I'm not a happy person. I don't get to do it often."
Her brother smiled, "Fine, but no one dies tonight."
Francesca returned the smile, "Alright, Tom-Tom. No one…tonight."
"What about a dance?" Tommy pulled her onto the dance floor.
She spun away for a moment, "Oh, you know I'm not very good."
"Who was the one who wouldn't stop until she taught me 'shuffle off to buffalo'?"
When he said this, Francesca turned out on the floor and whispered, "Step, shuffle, hop, step."
"This is why I love you," Tommy hugged her. "Beneath all the harshness, there's a heart of gold."
She accepted the hug, "I'm not that harsh, am I?"
Tommy pulled away and smiled, "No. No, you're not."
They walked off the dance floor. Francesca sighed, "I'm going to freshen up a bit."
"Okay," he nodded.
Francesca turned around a bit too quickly and ended up running into a tall, stooping figure, "Oh god, sorry…"
"It's not a problem," Hannibal looked down at her with big, sullen eyes.
Tommy put his hand on her shoulder, "Francesca this is Colonel Smith. Hannibal Smith."
The girl blushed, "I know that."
"This is my younger sister, Francesca Barrett," Tommy patted her back.
Francesca cleared her throat, "Agent Barrett."
"I see," Hannibal nodded.
"Tommy," a tinkling feminine voice came up behind them. "I've been looking for you."
Tommy stepped away from the two, "Got to go, duty calls."
His wife, Mel, grabbed his arm, "Sorry to take him away."
"No, you go ahead," Francesca cocked her head to the side, still looking at the colonel. As her brother walked away, she stared up at Hannibal, "He's no fun anymore."
Hannibal chuckled, "Oh, I don't know. If that's his duty…"
"Well, Tommy is a very passionate guy. His duty changes with the season," her voice lulled.
"I suppose the military runs in the family," he smiled slowly.
Leaning into her hip, Francesca brightened her tone, "I suppose. He always wanted to be a soldier. So I wanted to as well."
"But you didn't choose a combat position because…"
She shrugged, "I always told myself if I couldn't be in Special Forces, I wanted to do something fun. I'm an adrenaline junkie, you know."
"Being a fighter like Tommy, I'm sure the CID was more than welcoming," Hannibal said.
"Definitely not," she replied in amusement. The music quickly shifted from an upbeat number to a slower piece. "I love this song," her eyes darted over to the musicians.
The colonel smiled, "Now I'm the bad guy if I don't ask you to dance."
"You'd never be the bad guy. Not Hannibal Smith," Francesca shook her head.
Hannibal quietly said, "Well, would you like the dance?"
Francesca accepted the hand he held out to her, "It would be an honor, sir."
"You don't have to be so formal," he pulled her back.
Resting her other hand on his shoulder, Francesca tossed her hair out of her eyes and smiled, "Hannibal. I'm going to have to get used to that."
"No," he shook his head. "John."
"I get no kick from champagne…" the female singer drawled into the microphone.
Francesca sang along, dancing to the beat, "Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all, so tell me why should it be true that I get a kick out of you?"
As the dance continued, Hannibal watched her blue eyes light up. He tried to keep up with her, but her energy was too much for him.
"You're a very nice dance partner," Francesca rested for a moment during a music break.
He shook his head, "Please, I am lucky that you practically begged me to dance with you."
"Beg is not the right word," she looked down at their feet, leaning her head against his chest.
"Fine," Hannibal, subconsciously, pulled Francesca tighter around the waist.
Francesca felt his grasp and pursed her lips, resisting a smile. "I get no kick in a plane, flying too high with some guy in the sky…" Her voice drifted, staring back up at the colonel, "Is my idea of nothing to do…"
She stopped, "Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Hannibal drew back. The only thing he could hear was a loud, throaty laughed from an old man.
Francesca jumped up, "Uncle Walt. Wait right here. I'll be back."
Hannibal watched her scamper away. She had the same golden brown hair as her brother, yet her mentality was completely different. Somewhat more courageous and outgoing, but she was still fragile. She approached an older man and gave him a hug. As Francesca flirted with him, she pulled a cigarette from his sport coat.
Breaking into his thoughts, Francesca tugged on his arm, "Do you have a light?" She held up the cigarette.
"You don't?" he reached into his coat, searching for his box of matches.
Francesca pushed his hand down, "Not in here! If Tommy caught me, he'd kill me."
"You're not a child," Hannibal couldn't hold back a smile.
"But Tommy treats me like one," she took his hand in hers and pulled him outside into a large courtyard. "Alright, light."
He struck a match and held it up to the cigarette. "Thanks," Francesca took a long drag on the cigarette. "I've been deprived of these for a week. An entire week."
"You poor, poor girl."
"Yes," she puffed smoke into his face. "Poor me."
It had taken a moment for the colonel to realize that it was snowing. A light fluffy coating of ice lay across the garden. Then he realized that Francesca was completely unprepared for the weather. She was wearing a light pink, chiffon dress, rouched at the bodice, and the skirt was perfect for spinning endlessly through a field of daisies.
"Aren't you cold?" he inquired.
Francesca looked up, "Well, now that you mention it."
Hannibal slipped of his beat up sport coat and put it around her shoulders.
"And I thought chivalry was dead," Francesca smiled, feeling the warmth of the coat around her like a hug. "So how did you end up here, first stop on the highway to hell?"
He laughed, "You don't want to be here either?"
They started to walk through the garden, "I hate weddings. Everyone's always so happy and so… It seems like everything is perfect. For everyone, except me."
"I'm sorry you feel that way."
"You don't seem to be having a blast either, so tell me. Why do you hate weddings?"
Hannibal sighed, "I think it's the thought that a person is giving up some part of themselves to be with this person."
Francesca bit her lip, "So it's the commitment thing. It secretly scares you."
"I'm not done," he said. "It's not the commitment thing. It's losing your identity."
She stopped walking, "An identity crisis scares you then."
"It doesn't scare me," Hannibal shook his head. "It sort of hurts me."
"It's empathy," Francesca threw her cigarette on the ground and stamped it out.
Hannibal stood in front of her, sort of confused. He had just revealed a small part of himself that he hadn't ever revealed to anyone else. Francesca drew the information from him without. And he couldn't tell if she was doing it on purpose or if that was her nature.
She stared straight ahead, a sly grin crossing her face, "Let's get out of here."
"And go where?"
"Anywhere but here."
End Flashback
Hannibal looked in the rear view mirror and watched Francesca. He still couldn't grasp the fact that she was there. She was there and she was thirsty for blood.
"Hannibal," Face sat up. "Hannibal, I see them."
Stepping on the gas, Hannibal concentrated on the road, "Team, get ready."
The jolt of energy in the car awoke Francesca. She felt the small lights dawn filter into her eyes, burning. "What's going on?" She looked back, "God, you couldn't lose them?"
"Hey, when you're the driver you can do whatever the hell you please," the colonel snapped.
Francesca leaned forward, "Oh, you're so bad, putting me in my place."
"Do you have any duct tape, Murdock?" Face turned to his seat mate.
Murdock sighed, "Fresh out."
"Damn, because I wanted to get these two to shut up."
Turning to Face, Francesca said, "You want me to shut you up?"
"Tough guy line. I'm scared!" Face laughed.
"Get the captive in line, Face," B.A. cackled.
"These two act like an old married couple. Sounds like there's a little history," Murdock chirped.
As Face forced the girl back she shook her head, "That's insane."
"Yeah, Murdock," Hannibal's eyes met Murdock's in the mirror. "That is insane."
Author's note: I hope you're liking the story. Congrats on your second flashback! Next chapter, get ready for a bit more action and possibly finishing the second flashback. Please keeping reading and reviewing!