I hope this chapter can make up for my lack of them lately, but I really wanted to make it perfect. Hope you love it as much as I do! I was so excited to write it. Please keep reviewing and favoriting and alerting. Sometimes they just come out of the blue and I love it!

DG

Francesca stepped up to the front door of a nice townhouse with a perfectly trimmed garden. She'd been there several times before. She had spent weeks there, holidays, birthdays, everything. Portland was nice this time of year, too. But today, she wished to be anywhere but there. Unfortunately, there was no way for her to back out of it. The car that had taken her there was still sitting down the street. It was surveillance in the most basic of terms. The government wasn't just going to let her off easily after the strange and compromising position Francesca had put them in. She didn't confess to anything and didn't incriminate anyone in the slightest. All they could do in return was let her off with a guardian for a few months.

When Francesca had first found this out, she was shocked and a bit panic stricken. First off, she didn't need a guardian. She was an adult, over thirty. Second, they put her in the place she least wanted to be.

Francesca walked up the cobblestone pathway and up the six stairs to the front door. Her bags were growing heavier in her arms, but ringing the doorbell was really no relief. After a few minutes, Francesca finally heard footsteps coming up to the door and a muffled shout from behind it. It opened suddenly to reveal the woman with dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and light skin. She smiled meekly and said in a tinkling voice, "Francesca!" She threw her arms open and embraced Francesca in a tight hug.

"Mel!" Francesca said with a little less gusto. She hadn't seen her sister-in-law in God knows how long, but now it was just like picking up where they left off.

"Aunt Checka!" Jessica rushed into the doorway and popped up next to her mom.

"Jess!" the burden of coming alleviated as Jessica hugged Francesca's hips.

"Hey, let her in, Jessica," Mel pulled back on her daughter and took one of Francesca's bags.

Francesca followed the two inside, smiling delicately at the warm interior and the light, pastel green curtains and peach throw pillows. It was a family home. And Francesca felt enlightened by it. "Where's Andrew?" she asked Jessica with a grin.

"He's upstairs," Jessica shrugged off lightly.

"Well, go get him, Jess," Mel tapped her daughter on the shoulder. Jessica gave her a quick look that made Francesca laugh before rushing off to the staircase.

Francesca turned to Mel when she knew that Jessica was out of earshot, "How's Tommy?"

"We're not talking about him right now. Why the hell did you go off trying to get yourself killed? Again?" Mel frowned.

"I have a right to know," Francesca murmured.

"What were you doing? They just said they suspected foul play with those men that worked with Tommy?"

"You know they're innocent."

"What if they're not? They could be dangerous," Mel spat venom in Francesca's face.

Pursing her lips, Francesca replied calmly, "Mel, I know those men. I trust them."

"No woman in their right mind would trust the four of them," she replied, trying a more kind approach.

"Look, Mel, you have to trust me-"

"I can't trust someone who is doing the wrong thing for my husband," Mel said in a breathy voice, tears brimming in her eyes.

Struck with an overwhelming sense of anger and protectiveness, Francesca lowered her voice, "I'm going to say this once, Mel. Tommy wanted me to be his medical proxy. That means I do what's right for him. He's a fighter and he will get through this. You don't have to trust me. I don't actually care if you trust me."

"You've been with those guys for weeks. I just don't know-"

"Hannibal was at your wedding, Mel," Francesca said with her teeth tight. "I lo…" Instead of being cut off by Mel, Francesca felt the words leave her mouth as a wave of nausea overcame her. She turned her face away and murmured some choice words beneath her breath before rushing into the bathroom located near the stairway.

She forced her head over the toilet and vomited twice, eradicating anything from her system. Francesca hung onto the sides of the bowl and tried to catch her breath. She couldn't keep doing this to herself. Lying to herself all the time just wouldn't work.

Mel rushed into the bathroom, "Francesca, what's going on?"

Francesca tried to speak but all that came out was a small croak. They both heard Jessica and Andrew running down the stairs. Their eyes met for a moment before Mel sighed, "We'll talk about this later, okay?"

Quickly, Francesca wiped her mouth off with her sleeve and flushed the toilet. Andrew squeezed past his mother and hugged Francesca. She put her arms around him, but kept her eyes on Mel who was glaring at her with intensity.

How she was going to tell her everything that had happened, she didn't know. This time, she didn't feel like weaseling her way out of anything.

So they waited until the late evening when the kids went to sleep. Francesca waited downstairs at the kitchen island, her arms folded over her chest. Finally, Mel came back down and asked in a reserved voice, "Tell me what's happening."

"You're not going to like it," Francesca said quietly, running her hand over her face.

Mel smiled slightly, "Since when have you cared what I thought?"

"Despite what you may think, Mel, I definitely don't hate you," Francesca said simply. "I care about what you think and what you say. So I'm worried to be judged."

Mel went silent and then reached across the island to grab Francesca's hand, "Look…we haven't always agreed. Frankly, I hate your job and I hate Tommy's job and I hate a lot of your opinions. But we're family. Just because I don't agree with you, doesn't mean I don't love you."

Francesca lifted her head to look more closely into Mel's hazel eyes. They were sympathetic and strong. "You can tell me anything, Francesca. We're practically sisters. And I think we've both forgotten that," she continued. "So if you're going to tell me that you're in love with one of those criminals or…" Mel started to laugh. "Wouldn't that be hilarious?"

Francesca gave her a look, one of embarrassment and dismay.

Catching on quickly, Mel gaped, "No, Francesca, no!"

"Yeah…" she said quietly in reply.

She shook her head, "No. "

"Yes."

Francesca thought Mel was about to go into a parental lecture, but instead she smiled boldly and said, "Well, I never thought it would happen."

"Huh?" she asked, frowning.

"A man. For you," Mel laughed. "That seemed like a joke. Tommy never thought it would happen since you're so-"

"Wait, just a second," Francesca tried to interrupt.

"So, tell me about him. Everything," Mel leaned forward, squealing like a little girl.

Francesca quietly replied, "Mel, it's a lot more than just being in love with him."

"What do you mean by that?" she asked a little more seriously.

Biting her lip, Francesca said, "I think—I mean…I'm pretty sure that…" She ran her hands over her face and sighed, taking a moment to collect her thought. "I think I'm pregnant."

Mel's eyes widened, "What?"

Tears started to well up in Francesca's eyes and she lowered her head.

"Oh my god," she continued. "Have you taken a test yet or anything?"

"Yeah…positive."

Mel smiled, "Francesca, this is-"

"I'm so scared," she started to cry. "I'm not ready to have a baby."

"Yes, you are," she replied. "You totally are. You're awesome with Jess and Andrew."

"I know, but…" Francesca swallowed. "Now that it's mine I think I'm really going to screw everything up." She ran her hand across her stomach and smiled lightly. She could feel the slight of her stomach and it made her life a little more worth while.

Flashback

Hannibal closed the hotel room door behind him and breathed out. He was frozen in his shoes. He couldn't go back in. She wouldn't want him. And he couldn't leave because he knew how much pain he had caused her.

He loved her, but unbearably so. He could not admit it to himself or to anyone.

Hannibal went forward, walking swiftly through the hotel. As he walked, he pulled out his phone and dialed.

"Hello?" Face asked meekly.

"Face…it's me," Hannibal said, walking down the main staircase.

"It's six in the morning," Face sighed. "Why are you calling me?"

He stopped for a moment to work out his plan, "Put Murdock on the phone."

"Gladly," he mumbled. There was a pause as he handed the phone over to Murdock.

Hannibal impatiently looked around as he waited for the captain's voice on the other end. He had thought Francesca would run after him, but there was no evidence of that, no one screaming his name or feet pounding on the ground. And that was almost disappointing. The thrill and the drama didn't exist now.

"Hey, bossman," Murdock chortled. "Watcha need?"

"I need you to pick me up from The Copacabana. Where are you?"

"On my way," he could hear Murdock rushing in the background and turning on the van. "What's going on?"

Hannibal sighed and went toward the front of the building, "Please, just come."

"Boss… You're scaring me. What's happening?"

"Look…I-I-"

"Who are you with?"

Running a hand through his hair, Hannibal quietly replied, "I need you to come here because-"

"Tell me."

He put two fingers on his lips and then quietly replied, "I ended it."

"What…did you end?"

"With Francesca Barrett," her name hurt in his mouth. "It's over. I couldn't do it anymore…I…" He couldn't say anything more, either. His mouth was frozen in fear and worry, strange feelings to overcome such a man, so he thought.

Murdock quickly replied, "Hannibal, I'll be there in ten minutes, tops."

They both hung up. Hannibal felt like the wind had just been knocked out of him. He continued out the hotel and waited, unbeknownst to him that two men were on the prowl looking for him and that the woman he just left was now on the floor, bleeding and unconscious.

End Flashback

Face tasted blood on his lower lip. He rubbed his hand over it just to make sure. Yep, blood. That was okay, though. Not the worst thing he'd ever felt. He looked over at the team who all were catching their breath and rubbing their faces.

"That was a bust," B.A. growled, shrugging off his leather jacket.

"Well, how was I supposed to know that there was a code, huh?" Face turned back and looked in the mirror, tending to his cut.

Murdock rolled his eyes, "This is why you don't make the plans, Face."

"Not anymore," he replied. "Look, it's not a big deal. We're all fine. We figure it out, we try again."

While they all spoke about the apparent failing, Hannibal thought to himself, wearing a worried frown which the boys rarely saw. Two big problems plagued. The first, the problem afoot, was the missing code they needed to break into the counterfeit ring. The second was that this prevented him from returning home for at least a little bit. He just wanted to see Francesca. At this point, it wasn't about the mission, it was about her. Normally, Hannibal would look down upon forlorn lovers in the crossfire of a romance. But Hannibal had never been in that situation. He'd seen Face become lovesick thousands of times and thought nothing of it.

Love wasn't in 'the plan.' Then again, neither was becoming fugitives, being betrayed by Morrison, or forming the A-Team.

"What do you think, Hannibal?" Face looked back at him, still plucking at the cut.

Hannibal raised his head and narrowed his eyes, "What?"

"What do you think we should do?" he asked.

Biting his lip, Hannibal replied, "About what?"

Murdock looked to B.A. with a nervous gaze. B.A. shook his head, "You weren't listening?"

Hannibal stood up and wiped some sweat off of his face with his t-shirt and looked to each of the boys, "No, I wasn't."

"What's going on with you, boss?" Face addressed him directly without a pittance of embarrassment. "You're not in the game."

"Right," Hannibal turned away and paced back to his original position. He let out a deep breath.

They had pitched a makeshift tent in the grassy steppes of Mongolia which now was falling in at one side despite their efforts to prop up. Hannibal sat back down on his stool, not saying anything else.

"What's this…" Face pointed to Hannibal but talked to the other two.

"You're completely oblivious to everyone, but yourself," B.A. stood, "Aren't you?" Then, he went over to Hannibal and said, "You're thinking about her."

He nodded, "How could I not?"

Suddenly, there was an obnoxious dinging, a cell phone ringing. Hannibal immediately noticed that it was Francesca's phone that had been left behind. He dug it out of his pocket and looked at it for a second before answering. "Hello?"

"They're tracing this call. I only have a few seconds," Francesca said quietly.

"Francesca. Francesca, where are you?" he urgently asked, sitting up straighter.

"There's a code. A code for th-the counterfeit operation. I'm gonna give it to you, okay?" her voice started to waver.

Before he could answer, Francesca listed off the letters and numbers, "W-A-L-C-6-7-2. Remember that. You'll need it."

"Where are you?"

"WALC672."

"Francesca, answer me! I need to know that you're safe," he clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white.

She quickly replied, "I'm fine. I'm safe. I love you. WALC672. Remember. Come home safe. I need you here, now."

"Francesca!" he tried to talk to her one last time, but the line went dead. Hannibal pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it for a minute.

What did she mean by 'I need you here, now'? He closed the phone and looked to Face. "WALC672," a smile crossed his lips. "We got it. We're going home."