I know you all hate me. But I have had serious writer's block, plus school, plus my life to contend with. I know they're all excuses (albeit, true excuses). Well, here's the chapter. I'm trying to finish up this story in a few more chapters and an epilogue, so things may move quickly, but I think it will be just better that way. Thanks if you're still reading! I love you all!

DG

Midmorning, Face came down the steps to find Francesca curled up on the couch with a magazine and Hannibal doing some stuff on the computer. He immediately noticed the ring on Francesca's finger and sighed, "Congratulations."

Francesca looked up and smiled shyly, "Thanks."

Face raised an eyebrow quickly, questioning her.

She nodded, smiling more boldly and lifting her magazine, showing the title as Fit Pregnancy. Face smiled back, relieved, and then turned his attention to Hannibal who had witnessed the interaction that flitted between Face and Francesca.

"You knew?" Hannibal frowned. When Face didn't reply, he looked to Francesca, "He knew?"

"I didn't tell him if that's what you're asking," Francesca laughed and then went back to her magazine.

Face sat on the couch and looked to Hannibal, "I found her vitamins yesterday and I asked."

He closed the laptop slowly and then said without intonation, "I see."

"What's your problem?" Face asked.

"Nothing," Hannibal cleared his throat and rose from his chair.

Francesca looked up again and narrowed her eyes, "John, is something wrong?"

"No," he continued and went to the kitchen.

Face and Francesca exchanged a quick glance. "Is it one of us?" Face said.

"I don't think so," Francesca rose from the couch and put down the magazine. Taking the laptop, she opened it again, and glanced over the pages. There was an email open from an unknown address with a simple, clear message.

We are coming for them.

"For them…" Face glanced over her shoulder. "For the plates?"

Hannibal stumbled back into the room, his face paper white and his eyes glazed over. "Face, go get the boys up," he murmured.

Not wanting to be told twice or face the wrath of a quiet Hannibal, Face ran upstairs to rouse Murdock and B.A. Hannibal approached Francesca and took the computer from her. Their eyes met for a moment, a moment that conveyed fear and lusty agreement. When they heard the footsteps of the boys they looked away from each other. Francesca retreated to the couch and folded herself, watching the trees outside the window flitting in the wind.

As the guys stumbled into the room and crumpled on the couch, Murdock whined, "I was having a good dream, boss."

"Yeah, why'd you have to wake us up?" B.A. growled a bit, before biting back on his words.

Hannibal closed his eyes for a moment and then turned back into the kitchen. Everyone was quiet, waiting. Francesca folded a hand over her face and took a deep breath.

Murdock and B.A. both tightened their foreheads in confusion.

Suddenly, Francesca was crying. Face thought he understood and patted her on the back delicately. Tears stuck between her fingers as she murmured, "Oh god, oh god, please…"

Hannibal came back into the room and looked to Francesca worriedly.

"You had to come back, didn't you?" she sobbed. "Jesus. It's over. How could I be so stupid to think that this could all work out?"

Silent, Hannibal ran his hands through his hair and pursed his lips.

"This is the end. Everything is over," she wailed and folded her arms over her stomach.

"What's going on?" B.A. asked incredulously with his eyes widening.

"We have to leave," Hannibal murmured.

"They're going to…" Francesca trailed off, paling. Everything was crumbling beneath her.

Face stood up and looked to Hannibal, "Hannibal-"

"They're coming for Francesca and the baby, not the plates," he said in a low voice.

"What baby?" Murdock interjected with his eyebrows laced into a tight frown.

Francesca looked up, the tires still streaming down her cheeks. Hannibal didn't reply to them, but Face did, "Francesca is pregnant." His voice was small, quiet. Neither Francesca, nor Hannibal objected to the admission.

"No, she's not," B.A. said, trying to convince only himself. "She's not… are you?" he looked over at Francesca who only nodded solemnly.

"We have to run," Hannibal stated.

"Where?" Francesca asked, now anger building in her gaze. "Where are we going to run?"

"We will just run. That's all," Hannibal finished.

Murdock and B.A. were still shocked by the new information they had received. Murdock was more dazed, a smile on his face.

Only a moment later, they heard the front door open. They all turned in shock, in worry. A pair of high heels clipped across the floor. Face held up his gun and held it carefully at the hallway. Francesca held her legs up to her chest. They all just waited.

"Francesca!"

Face dropped his gun and rolled his eyes, "Oh, God."

"In here," she replied, relieved.

Charisa came out of the hallway, holding a shopping bag and her purse. She stood, struck with a strange anticipation building in her gut. Her eyes flitted to each person and finally rested on Francesca, "What the hell is going on?"

"It's a long story, Charisa," she replied, pressing a hand to her forehead.

"Why are you here?" Face interjected quickly.

"I'm here to check on Francesca," she snipped. "Thank god I did. What are you doing, tracking around danger wherever you go? Especially to a woman who is not in a…proper state to be around all of this shit."

At that moment, they were disrupted by a gunshot, one that pierced the window and shattered it. It flew over Francesca's head and across the room, lodging itself in the wall. They all cried out, ducked around, trying to gain safety.

"See?" Charisa shouted, dropping her bags and going back down the hallway for cover.

Then, there were showers of bullets from the outside. The walls became riddled with holes. Francesca lunged across the room in a split second, following her friend. Faces hand descended into his pocket for his gun. He positioned it out in front of him, barely threatening to the predators. Murdock and B.A. followed suit, but Hannibal went after Francesca and Charisa, who both were cowering in the hallway. Francesca looked over to him and snapped, "What do we do?"

"Come on," he grabbed her wrist and tugged her toward the front of the house. Charisa followed nervously, still carrying her bags. Hannibal lurched for the car keys and fished them off the counter, before rushing outside with the two women. "Boys, get out!" his voice was huge, mesmerizingly loud.

Back in the living room, B.A. was rushing out, trying to keep both Murdock and Face in tow. The gun fire lessened after a bit and then, there was silence. An unbearable amount of silence. The three men looked among themselves. It was like they could hear the ticking, the bomb that obviously lay beneath them or before them.

"Run!" Face shouted at them. They all bolted toward the door.

They were already outside when the echoing boom rattled their brains, pushed them forward toward the car at the curb where the other three sat. A bomb had broken the back of the house and it was hard to believe that they were there only seconds ago and how dead they could be.

B.A. slid into the passenger seat while Face and Murdock jumped into the back where both Francesca and Charisa were cowering. Face and Charisa's eyes met for one second before the car sprinted from it's original position. "Why the fuck are you guys here? What the hell do you think you're doing?" Charisa snapped, still clinging to the bags on her lap.

"Charisa," Francesca said wearily.

"I'm serious, what the hell do you think you're doing?" her eyes were darting from each man with grave warning. "Do you know what you've done?" she shouted.

They were all silent as the car sped off down the neighborhood streets. Hannibal was desperately trying not to listen, not feel anymore guilty than he did.

Francesca's eyes pooled with tears again and they dripped down her face. She tried to hide them. There was no need to make the situation worse by her spewing her emotions all over them again.

"If you didn't already know, Francesca's is gonna have a baby. So you haven't just put a former agent in danger this time," Charisa went on.

"Well, we did know, Charisa," Face leaned forward and spat back.

She shook her head, "Then you should've gotten out of here."

"They were going to hurt them no matter what," Murdock came to Face's defense quickly.

"Please stop," Francesca called out meekly.

They didn't, however. "You just saw this. Assassins! Coming after you all," she went on.

"You're caught up in it now, you realize," Face gritted his teeth.

"Please, guys," Francesca called out again, a little louder.

"This isn't safe for any of us, especially not—"

"Stop talking about her like she's not here."

"I don't know how you could all be so ignorant—"

"Please!" Francesca finally cried loud enough for them all to shut up. "Please. I can't be stressed out right now, especially now. So, please."

Flashback

"You're incredibly good at pissing me off," Francesca murmured, putting an earring in her left ear. She stared in the mirror, examining the sharp contours of her chin.

Dave looked at her from the bed, folding his tie around his neck, "You're ridiculous."

"I'm serious," she continued. "It's one of your many talents," her smirk resonated in the mirror.

"Shut up," he snapped back, standing.

"I don't even want to go anymore," Francesca lowered her head.

"Yeah, well I don't either."

They both were silent. Francesca still stared blankly, letting her heart sink into her gut. "Maybe we should take a break," she murmured. Dave and Francesca had been dating for eight months. They had gotten to the stage where they lived at each other's houses, not willing to take the commitment of living together, but still spending their lives in each other's abodes.

Dave's ears almost visibly perked up at these words, "No. Francesca, no."

"I just need some times to myself, okay?" she stood up, straightening out the teal dress that was draped across her breasts tightly. Dave was not listening, her dress was too distracting. "Dave?"

"I…no."

"You know? Or no?"

"No?"

She frowned, "That still does not get your point across."

"I don't need time," he cleared his throat, slipping his hands into his back pockets. "I don't need it."

"Unfortunately, it's not all about you, Dave," Francesca rose from her seat and crossed her arms.

He couldn't reply. He didn't know how. His eyes filled with tears.

Francesca was shocked at the emotions. None of the screams or anger. It was just great sorrow bubbling in him. "What are you doing?" she swallowed.

"I'm sorry," he turned away, looking out the window.

"What the fuck is going on?" she couldn't help but chuckle a little at how surreal this all was.

"I didn't…oh, shit," he ran a hand over his mouth.

Francesca stopped and listened. There were sobs. They were feminine. It was strange and she hated it.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I just…didn't know. I thought we'd stick it out longer than…"

Freezing, she sucked in her cheeks. She made a man cry. It was one thing to kill them, but to beg for mercy with tears was another. "Hey, Dave, look. I wasn't really thinking. We just need to—to talk about this," she reached out for his arm and ran her hand down it.

His back automatically straightened. He looked back to her with a small smile, "Are you sure?"

"I mean, yeah," she nodded, unsure. "I want this to work."

The lies just kept sifting their way through her teeth. Francesca found herself indulging in his smiles, not wanting him to burst into tears again. That was just embarrassing, she thought, and at the same time it was alluring.

That was the beginning of the mind games, the spirals of puzzles and tricks.

End Flashback

"I hate all of you," Charisa kept mumbling over and over. "I hate all of you. Just all of you. Why the hell do you have to keep dicking around with my life? Jesus Christ."

They had been driving for four hours, not looking back after the small explosion that had collapsed the living room of the Barrett house. Francesca was sitting beside Charisa, cramped in the back with both Face and Murdock, the skinnier of the bunch. Face had ever so kindly offered Charisa his lap, but she simply sniped back 'bite me'. Hannibal and B.A. had switched positions at B.A.'s insistence. He could see the look of fear in Hannibal's eyes and that was an extremely rare thing.

"Where are we going?" Francesca croaked after her hours of silence.

Lifting his head, Hannibal looked in the rearview mirror at her. Her pastel skin was blushing and her hands were sticky from tears. He couldn't bear it, his mouth contorted into a frown and he closed his eyes. "I don't know," he murmured.

"Pull over," she urgently ignored his comment. Her head shot up, "B.A., pull over."

"What are you talking about?" he kept his eyes on the road.

"Do it!" Francesca screeched in a frustrated voice.

He did as he was told and she stumbled off into the brush on the side of the road, retching up whatever she had eaten that morning. Once she finished, Francesca wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She wanted to cry again. The baby was becoming more real every moment and now there were people out to kill them. It really wasn't just her anymore and that was the scariest part. Francesca had always been okay with the idea of death. She realized it would have to happen and that she could at any moment. Now, she was responsible for her child, an accidental, but strangely perfect product of a heated encounter with her lover.

Francesca swore under her breath and protectively rested her hand on her stomach. A mixed blessing, is what she called it.

Hannibal got out of the car and approached her. Her contemplative nature was intimidating, but he pressed forward, "Francesca."

She quietly turned back to him, "I thought we were going to be normal."

"I don't know how many times I can say sorry."

"Our child is at risk now," she continued. "It's not about me or you."

"I know," he swallowed. "I didn't think about this."

Reddening, Francesca whispered, "You couldn't have known."

"Predicted that this would've happened…"

"Yes, I know," she crossed her arms. Their eyes met, finally. They had been avoiding each other's gaze until now. "God, I'm so scared. Why are they after me?"

Hannibal saw her wavering lips and embraced her tightly. The wind started to pick up, a cool, autumn wind. "Because they know that if anything happened to you…to either of you," he started proudly, "That I would be crushed. You know that? And then the four of us would be vulnerable."

She buried her face in his chest and breathed him. Then, she pulled away, put a hand on his cheek, and nodded, wordless. They turned back to the car where the rest of them were airing themselves out. Charisa was hanging out of the backseat and looked to Francesca with a frown, "Can I ask what's going on, now?"

"They have the plates," she replied. "And now…the McDonalds are threatening my life in order to psychologically screw with John," Francesca put her hand on Hannibal's arm.

Charisa narrowed her eyes, "That is sick. That is so sick. Because you know they definitely know about the…"

"The baby, we know!" Face interjected. "We know all about it!"

"Facey, relax," Murdock tried to comfort Face who was obviously on edge.

"I can't! She now involved in this. She has information. Like…there's no way we're going to get out of this or protect Francesca. We are at her mercy," Face shouted in anger. Her mercy was the last place he wanted to be.

Charisa shook him off, "I'm fine here. I'll be part of this."

"How?" Francesca asked.

"I'll figure it out," she pushed the topic away. "There's a family at risk here. And I don't like it when people fuck with family. It's not right."

Hannibal looked to Francesca with an endearing glance which she caught with relief and happiness.

"So, then, what's the plan?" Charisa smiled.

What they settled on was completely unconventional and potentially dangerous, and therefore, the perfect plan for the A-Team. A new house in the middle of San Diego, a new identity, and a new life. Francesca was game. It was a way to maintain a normal life, even if it truly wasn't hers. So now, she was Annie Heller, a woman living off of her husband's money, but alone because of his business obligations. They had absolute security on her place, due to the fact it was right near the mayor's. The McDonalds would not have an easy time getting to them. The house was owned by Face's grandmother who was in a nursing home. Everything was easily taken care of. Both Hannibal and Francesca felt relieved about that.

The evening before the team left, Francesca and Hannibal lay in bed after an impassioned romp which Hannibal had initially been set against. Francesca simply laughed and pulled him to her. So now, they lay, their limbs intertwined and Francesca's lips against his neck, "You don't have to go."

"I do."

"You can protect me here."

"I want to stay," he said and rested his hand in the crook of her waist. Her swollen stomach had grown a bit since he had found out about the baby. A smile grew on his face, "You'll be fine."

Francesca shook her head, "I hope so." There was a comfortable silence that fell over them before Francesca questioned, "When will you be back?"

"I don't know," he sighed, his breath tousling her hair.

And at that moment, she was strangely comforted by that answer. Because it could have meant soon. And soon meant that they could get married as themselves, not aliases or disguises. Of course, she couldn't control when the baby came, so the sooner he came back, the sooner their family truly started.