Face wanted to just lie down and sleep again after he spoke to Hannibal, but he couldn't stand wearing his dirty clothes a second longer. He had spare clothes in the van, but he couldn't even wait that long.

"I need to take a shower," he said to Bonnie. "You watch the door and call me if you spot anything suspicious."

"Can you manage?" she asked, as he tottered to his feet.

"Yeah." He didn't need anyone helping him shower. He'd had the guys do that before when he'd been injured, which he didn't count among the most fun times in his life. Of course, this wasn't one of the guys... Still, he could manage.

He just about managed, though he had to brace a hand against the wall of the shower for most of the time and wash one-handed. The dog bite still throbbed and when he took the makeshift bandage off there was an unpleasant amount of pus, and the whole area around it was swollen and red. Shit, need some antibiotics, right now. Hannibal would have some in the van.

In the meantime, he cleaned it up as best he could. The truck driver had given him a bandage from his first aid kit, when he dropped them off, so Face could at least put a clean dressing on it. He did that sitting on the bathroom floor, since his legs had decided they were all done holding him up for now, thanks.

Last of all, he brushed his teeth with a toothbrush he'd bought from the motel's office. He had to sit on the toilet lid and hang over the sink to do that, but at last, he felt almost human again. Still fevered and exhausted, but less like he wanted to peel his itching skin off.

His clothes lay in a pile on the floor and he certainly wasn't putting them back on. Reuniting with the team while wearing just a towel would be undignified, but at least he wouldn't knock them out with the smell. He sighed at the state of the uniform. Another one beyond saving. Perils of battle. Couldn't afford to keep replacing them like this.

When he stood, black spots danced in front of his eyes and he wobbled, grabbing at the sink. Everything had gone fuzzy around the edges now. He needed to be back in bed. Towel. His hand brushed his waist to make sure it was there, and secure, not wanting to scare the crap out of Bonnie by staggering out there stark naked.

She ran to his side at once when he emerged from the bathroom, and took his arm. Hell he must look bad, he thought. When they reached the bed, she let him go and turned down the covers, which looked neater than when he'd got off the bed. He flopped down and she pulled the covers up over him.

Much better. Actually in the bed now, between the sheets, not sprawled fully clothed on top of them, like a drunk. Face sighed as his head sank into the pillow. He squirmed around and quickly got rid of the damp towel around his waist. How did he ever sleep any way but naked? Only way to stay cool. He dumped the towel on the floor and closed his eyes.

Sleep didn't come right away. The pain in his arm and the headache he'd started to develop kept that from happening, so he heard Bonnie moving around, in the bathroom. She must be tidying up. Then in the room, creeping about, trying not to disturb him.

"I'm not asleep," Face said, not sure why he was telling her that. He looked up from the pillow. She was blurry around the edges like everything else.

"You should eat," she said. "And drink some water."

"Not hungry." He should be, he knew that, but the fever stole his appetite.

"Water," she said, bringing it over. "Please drink some."

Face managed to sit up enough to sip from the plastic cup she handed him. Some water spilled onto his chest and Bonnie grabbed the towel he'd dropped on the floor, and patted him dry, then carefully folded the towel and took it back into the bathroom.

Face felt guilty suddenly. She must be tired too; she'd had no sleep last night and had walked as far as he had.

"Bonnie, get some rest," he said, when she came out of the bathroom with his clothes, folded neatly now. "You don't have to do any of that stuff."

"One of us should stay awake, in case..." She didn't finish, but Face knew what she meant. The idea that her family would track them down must terrify her.

"At least lie down," he said. "Get off your feet." He patted the other side of the bed. She looked down, blushing and he hoped he hadn't scared her. Nothing to be scared of. Right now, he could be trusted with Miss World, naked and covered in whipped cream. Kittens could overpower him.

Bonnie must have concluded the same thing, as she came around to the other side of the king-sized bed. She slipped her shoes off and then pulled the rubber band from her hair and shook it loose.

Was she smiling at him? Vision too blurry to be sure. Well, why shouldn't she smile at him? They were friends now. He'd got her out; she'd got him out. Owed each other.

She surprised him by slipping under the covers, but didn't move close to him, and she still had her dress on. Maybe she felt cold. Face felt too warm still.

"Templeton, what if my family find us here?"

Face reached to pat the pistol on the nightstand. He actually missed and almost knocked it to the floor.

"They won't hurt you, I promise."

"But you're... injured."

"I can still shoot the pimples off Harold's nose one at a time."

Bonnie giggled, but still looked scared. Face reached out to pull her closer against him, an arm around her shoulders.

"And anyway, my friends will be here any minute." Perhaps that would reassure her more. Though 'any minute' was a lie. Probably at least a half-hour yet. "Don't be scared. I won't let anyone hurt you."

She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder, relaxing against him.

"I never met anyone like you before, Templeton. I'll never be able to pay you back." Her hand rested on his chest.

"You don't have to pay me back." Her hair was falling over his hand and he instinctively started to run his fingers through it, enjoying the softness on his skin. One advantage of her life, no perms and dyes and bleach to ruin her hair. Face had known too many women who squealed in protest if he dared to try to run his hands through their carefully arranged 'do'.

Bonnie was so different from all of those women. She reminded him of the girls he'd known when he was just a kid, still back at school, or even at college. Awkward, nervous, but sweet and gentle. Her fingers started tracing a circle on his chest. Her touch felt cool on his skin.

"You're too hot," she said, leaning up on one elbow then, a worried frown on her face. She took hold of the sheet and blanket that covered him and folded it back, taking it down to their waists.

Face sighed as the cool air caressed his skin. That did feel better. And so did her hand, which she laid on his chest again. Just feeling for his body temperature, he supposed. But why would she trace those little circles again? They felt nice. He closed his eyes and relaxed, drifted. Little circles, cool fingers, down his chest and stomach. Felt good.

It was all catching up, pulling him into a soft, quiet darkness. He wanted to stay awake. He should stay awake. The team would be here soon, but until they came, he should be on the alert.

The Watkins could get here first. Track him down. Drag him back. No, not to the house, someplace else. And kill him this time. Feed him to their damn dogs. Kill Bonnie too. Not fair. Not fair for either of them. He hated that he'd be helpless, despite his boast. Couldn't help her, couldn't help himself. Too weak.

Her voice. "I really do want to thank you, Templeton."

Her lips then, on his. Her hair brushing his chest. He opened his eyes, much more awake now, as she pulled back slightly from the kiss. Her eyes were wide, but not scared or frozen the way they had been when Face had kissed her back at the house.

She wasn't afraid of him now. But this was the same thing as back then, wasn't it? She didn't really want him; she thought this was what men wanted. She didn't know how else to thank him.

And how did he know she didn't genuinely want him? Many women did. Well she wasn't "many women"; she was naïve. He shouldn't. Hell, he wasn't sure he could. Too weak. But then she kissed him again and her hand was still caressing him, and he thought yes, perhaps he could, as his body reacted to her touches and he responded, kissing her in return.

Why not? After the crap she'd been through at the hands of her cousins, he could teach her something. Not by turning her down this time, but by showing her that she could enjoy it too. If there was one thing he was good at...

"Templeton," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him again. He pulled her close now and, his hands clumsier than usual, felt for the fastenings on her dress.

When he had trouble with the buttons, she pulled away from him and knelt up, took the dress off herself, pulling it over her head. Her body was pale, but more attractive than he expected, quite lean and athletic, from all the hard work she did, no doubt. And no doubt Face's vision was blurred by his fever, but he didn't care. She shed the greying bra and panties she wore, wriggling out of them quickly and pulling the bed sheet up around them both.

Face pulled her close against him and spoke softly. "I wish we had more time." The team would be here soon of course. He needed to hurry.

"That doesn't matter."

She lay back, and let him move on top of her. The movement made him dizzy, but the urgency of his desire overrode the urge to lie down on his back again.

"Wish we had longer," he mumbled the words this time, no longer thinking straight. Fevers of all kinds were shutting down his rational thoughts now.

"That doesn't matter," she said again. "There'll be time for that."

He didn't ask what she meant by that. He didn't care. She was right, he thought. This is what men want. We just have different approaches.

>o<

Hannibal moved quietly to the door of the motel room Face had directed them to. The others hung back, waiting, in case the Watkins had gotten there first. He reached the door and stood listening for a moment. No voices, no sounds at all.

He held his gun by his side, ready to raise it at any moment, and knocked on the door.

Just a few seconds later, it opened, just a crack, brought up by the chain. A young woman looked out of the opening, her eyes wide and scared.

"Are you Bonnie?" Hannibal asked. Face had explained on the phone that some girl relative of the Watkins had helped him get out of there. He'd been a bit vague about it, and Hannibal suspected he wasn't 100% fit. If he'd let the girl answer the door that must be the case.

"Colonel Smith?" When he nodded and beckoned the others, she took off the chain and opened the door wide. The team and Tawnia hurried in to the motel room.

"Stay by the door, BA," Hannibal ordered, and BA first glanced at Face in the bed, and then took up position by the window beside the door, letting him see anyone approaching.

"Face," Hannibal said, as Face struggled to sit up. Hannibal could see at once he was sweating and flushed. He sat down and put a hand to Face's forehead. Murdock had gone to scope out the rest of the room, checking the bathroom, before he came back and smiled down at Face.

"Faceman, you know I hate it when you leave me hanging with a deadly disease and my bag all packed."

"Sorry to stand you up, Murdock. Next time, I promise you can have TB again."

"Lie down," Hannibal said. "You're burning up."

"It's not that bad," Face said, though yielded to the pressure as Hannibal pushed him back down. "Got bit by a couple of dogs."

"Murdock, go get the first aid kit," Hannibal ordered, starting to unwrap the bandage to check out the wound. He glanced up at Bonnie, who stood watching him, looking worried. Leave it to Face, he thought. Like giving the fox the keys to the henhouse. Hardly Face's usual type though - mousy-haired, dowdy, wearing an old-fashioned flower print dress. He caught Tawnia's eye and glanced towards Bonnie. Tawnia nodded and moved over to the girl.

"Hi, Bonnie, I'm Tawnia." She took Bonnie's arm and steered her over to a couple of chairs. "Can you tell me about how you helped Face escape?" Bonnie looked back at Face, but went with Tawnia. Hannibal turned back to Face.

"I wouldn't have got out without her help," Face said.

"Guess the whole barrel of apples isn't rotten," Hannibal said. He'd taken the bandage off and winced at the dog bite. "Nasty."

"It was plan A. Didn't go so well."

"Plan A never works. Haven't I taught you anything?"

"Well this Plan A really didn't work."

Hannibal glanced around. "Your clothes destroyed?"

"Yeah."

Murdock arrived back with the first-aid kit and started dumping things out on the bed. Hannibal sent him back to the van to get Face some fresh clothes. In the meantime, he cleaned the wound out with antiseptic and redressed it. Face made fewer protests than usual, Hannibal thought. Normally he gave vent to some blood-curdling threats and swearing while having a painful wound like that treated. Hannibal smiled to himself, glancing over at Bonnie and Tawnia. Being a brave soldier when the ladies are around, of course.

"Hannibal," Face said, again seeing where he was looking. "We have to do right by her. Get her someplace safe." He tried to sit up. "The Watkins..."

"Easy, Face," Hannibal put a hand on his shoulder. "Sure we'll do right by her. Take it easy. Now, give me the other arm."

Face groaned at the sight of the hypodermic Murdock handed to Hannibal. Antibiotics. They had to stop that fever in its tracks. But despite his groan, he gave Hannibal his arm. Brave soldier again.

With Face fixed up, Hannibal looked around the room.

"Okay, people, time to decide the next move." He glanced at Face, hearing him mutter something. "Did you just say 'Plan D?'?"

>o<

While Hannibal fixed up Face, BA kept watch and Murdock kept running out to the van, Tawnia got the story of the escape out of Bonnie. It was hard to keep the girl focused; she kept glancing over to Face. But Tawnia knew Hannibal would expect a full report, so kept bringing her attention back.

"Bonnie," she said, "Bonnie." Bonnie turned back to her. "Do you know where the family might be right now? Have they got some place nearby they might hide out?"

"I don't think so," Bonnie said. "Do you think Colonel Smith will be able to find them?"

"Um, I don't know." Tawnia didn't know Hannibal's plans. She'd driven back to town with Murdock and the two of them had speculated, but heard nothing definite from Hannibal yet. He'd be simmering something though.

"It was very brave of you to do the right thing like that," Tawnia said, "even though it meant going against your family."

"I hate them," Bonnie said, scowling. "What they did to Templeton. They're evil."

"Right..." well, no argument there. How had Face enlisted her help? Of course, he was charm personified, Tawnia knew that; but how much charm had he needed to use if this girl hated her family so much? But if she hated them, why had she been living there?

Perhaps she'd had no choice. That idea wouldn't have occurred to Tawnia a few years ago, but between becoming a journalist and working with the team sometimes, she'd learnt the rest of the world was a much darker place than the little corner of it she'd grown up in.

"Were they... cruel to you? Your family?"

"Yes," Bonnie said, looking down, and clasping her raw and chapped hands together. "If they find me, they'll kill me." She looked up at Tawnia. "Your hair is really pretty."

"What? Oh." Tawnia laughed. "I just had it done. Twice."

"I'd like to have mine done like that one day." She looked over at Face. Hannibal was injecting him with something, and the needle made Tawnia wince, but Bonnie didn't seem to notice it. "Do you think Templeton would like it like that?"

"I... guess." Oh dear, Tawnia thought, starting to get a bad feeling. That look in Bonnie's eyes - devotion?

Bonnie looked back at Tawnia, smiling. "I'll be able to have it done like that in Los Angeles, won't I?"

"Of course."

She sighed, still smiling. "I hope he'll like it. Or I could have it done a different way. Whatever he likes best."

Tawnia went to speak again, about to blurt out a very silly question, but Hannibal's voice interrupted her.

"Okay, people, time to decide the next move."

Bonnie left Tawnia then, to join the rest gathering around Hannibal to hear the plans. Tawnia followed more slowly. For a moment, she frowned down at Face.

Had he used more than charm on Bonnie? Tawnia knew the look in Bonnie's eyes. Infatuation. Even... love? She thought Face was going to take her back to LA and they were going to be together. Tawnia really couldn't see that happening, but Bonnie clearly could. Bonnie sat on the bed and Tawnia saw her take Face's hand, smiling at him.

What have you promised her, Face? Tawnia wondered. What the hell have you promised?