Murdock looked up when the door to the diner opened. BA walked in, looking less conspicuous than usual, wearing a pair of overalls and a knit cap. He spotted Murdock and sat in the booth opposite him, scowling.

"Maybe I should take you outta here and drop you off right back in fronta the hospital?"

"I'd just escape again."

"Not if they put you in one of their rubber rooms."

A waitress came up and Murdock ordered a coffee refill for himself and milk and some toast for BA.

"I ain't got time to eat," BA said when she left.

"It'll look weird if you come into a diner and don't eat anything. And weird gets you remembered." He shook his head. "Like I have to tell you that." BA looked the most ordinary Murdock had seen him in a long time. No sign of his gold, his attention-getting haircut hidden by the hat. Unnerving. BA was the least ordinary person he knew. Right now, he could be just one of the thousands of people all over the city heading to work. Everything had started to change already. And maybe he'd only made it worse.

"Have you seen the news?" Murdock asked. "The cops have named Face as a suspect."

"Yeah, heard that on the radio on the way over here." The waitress arrived with BA's toast and he nodded at her. "Thanks." He even gave her a small smile. Ordinary, Murdock thought again. Just what an ordinary everyday, honest guy would do.

Murdock picked up a spoon and stirred his coffee. "Is Face okay?"

"Course he ain't okay, man." BA scowled at Murdock, and then ate a piece of toast in two big bites. He washed that down with half the glass of milk. Murdock waited. When he'd finished putting it off, BA spoke again. "He's been sleeping, but Hannibal thinks he was drugged."

"Drugged?" Murdock stared.

"Yeah. The colonel's taken a blood sample to some guy he knows who can test it." BA ate the rest of the toast while Murdock watched, biting his lip.

"So, that's how Hannibal thinks it happened, someone drugged Face and killed the girl?"

"Yeah, I guess. It's gotta be that way. Face couldn't sleep through something like that happening right beside him."

Murdock finally drank some of his coffee instead of just stirring it. "How well did he know the girl? Have they been seeing each other?" He hoped not, to be honest. If Face barely knew her... Well no one could call it easier, but... Oh forget it, he told himself. Don't try to pretend this situation isn't hell on earth from top to toe.

"Said he only met her a couple of days ago."

Something in BA's tone made Murdock look at him sharply. A touch of reproach?

"You don't approve of that."

"I never said anything." BA finished his milk. "We'd better go."

"Hang on." Murdock put a hand on BA's wrist. "Just let's wait a second. Face doesn't need you disapproving of him right now. He's got enough to deal with."

BA glared back at him.

"I told you, I never said anything. And I won't say nothing to him."

"You don't need to say anything, if you go around projecting moral disapproval with a radius of half a mile."

BA glanced around making sure no-one was watching them, and then leant across to Murdock. "How I feel about it ain't the point, but you want to know, then, you're right. I think it's wrong for people to go jumping into bed like that when they only just met."

"Look, Face is..." What was the right word, Murdock wondered. A playboy? A player? He didn't think BA would approve of that. "It's easy for him, so --"

"Easy don't make it right."

"So, you're saying it's his own fault he's in this mess?"

"No, it ain't his fault. But maybe if he didn't do that kind of thing so much then he wouldn't have been there for it to happen to him."

"That's saying it's his fault!" Murdock's voice rose, and he saw BA glance around, looking as close to nervous as he ever got, before he waved over to the waitress, asking for the check.

"No," he turned back to Murdock. "I never said it's his fault. I'm just saying that if he does it a lot then people can, well they can predict what he's gonna do. I'm just saying it could be a weakness, a way to get at him. At us."

"BA, he's, well, he's The Faceman. You think he can just switch that off when we're not working? He's not a machine you know."

"Forget it, fool. Forget I said it. Now keep your voice down till we get outta here." The waitress came up with their bill and BA dug some dollar bills out of his pocket. "Let's go."

They walked from the diner, Murdock still fuming quietly. BA led him to Hannibal's car. Murdock guessed the van must be hidden away some place inconspicuous. As BA unlocked the door, he spoke to Murdock across the roof of the car.

"You got one thing wrong, fool."

"What?" Murdock asked, still scowling.

"It ain't just Face in this mess, it's all of us."

+-+-+

Face sat up, startled.

"Who's that?"

Where the hell am I? He looked around. Dim room, sagging bed.

"Sorry, Face. Just me."

Hannibal's voice reassured Face and he relaxed. His memory came back. They were in a motel room and he'd been dozing on one of the beds. Hannibal had just walked out of the bathroom; the toilet flush had woken Face from vivid, but confusing dreams. All colour and light and indistinct figures. Sometimes they wore faces he knew, the team, Amy, Decker, but too often they were blank. He rubbed his eyes shaking off the dream.

"What's the time?"

"Just after nine." Hannibal stood at the window and peeked out of the drawn blinds. BA had gone to pick up Murdock an hour and a half ago. They should have been back by now. Hannibal looked over at Face. Perhaps he saw the worry in Face's eyes.

"They've probably been caught up in traffic." Hannibal said.

On the other hand, the cops could have picked them up. And that would be Face's fault. They could be in a police station right now, cops, or worse, Decker, asking where to find Templeton Peck. Face lay down again, dizzy suddenly. Maybe Hannibal was right about him being drugged.

"Hannibal, how long is that lab test going to take?" Face got the feeling he'd asked before, but couldn't remember the answer. His head swirled with fog.

"Couple of days, Face. Takes a couple of days."

"What if it's negative?" Face sat up again and Hannibal turned to look at him.

"What if it is? That doesn't prove you weren't drugged, just means maybe it already cleared your system, or the test didn't detect it, or --"

"Got an answer for everything, don't you?" The bitter tone in his voice surprised Face. Oh, nice, snap at him for believing you, real smart, Peck. Hannibal didn't rise to the tone.

"Want some coffee?"

"Thanks, yeah." Face nodded and Hannibal slipped out of the room heading for a vending machine in the lobby. Face stood up and went into the bathroom, to wash up. He stood for a while leaning on the sink and staring into the mirror.

What if the test was negative, because he actually did it? He'd spent twenty-four hours now insisting he hadn't done it. But what if he had? Done it and somehow forgotten it? Repressed it. Hannibal and BA had summarily dismissed Face's suggestion he could have done it in a flashback, but Face couldn't dismiss it so easily himself.

And if he had done it, if all the evidence the team and the cops found supported that theory, then could he really expect Hannibal to keep on supporting him? Could he expect to stay on the team? Especially with Amy around. They might not share a bed, but they'd been forced to sleep in the van more than once, even share a tent, while on a mission. And if Face had killed one woman even in his sleep who's to say it couldn't happen again? He could hurt Amy before the others could stop him.

Face groaned, sick at the thought. If he had done it, then Hannibal couldn't let him stay with the team. He'd probably assume Face was sick, mentally, and maybe find a nice, discreet and very secure sanatorium. Abroad maybe. Well, hell that could even work. Commit Face under a false name, with some forged papers and he could spend all day, every day, claiming to be a member of the A-Team, and they'd smile and nod at him and say 'Of course you are. Time for your pills now.'

He dried his face on the thin hand towel and went back into the bedroom. Hannibal had come back and a cardboard cup of coffee sat on the nightstand by the bed. Face picked up the cup and sipped the coffee, watching Hannibal, who had gone back to keeping watch at the window.

The team thinking he'd gone crazy and killed Celia would be bad enough, but Face could imagine a worse scenario. Supposing they became convinced he'd done it deliberately, murdered her? If the team believe that, what then? Would they dump him in front of the police department? And would he be alive or dead when they did?

He sat down on the bed, his movement making Hannibal glance at him for a second and look away again. He might be team, family to them, but who could stay loyal to even a real family member who did something so unspeakable? There were limits to the loyalty he could expect from them. Some things are unforgivable. None of the team was afraid of making judgements. They acted as judge and jury every time they took a mission and decided they were entitled to kick some ass. So they were comfortable with being judge, jury and...?

Face shivered and sipped some more coffee, trying to dispel the chill that came from deep inside him. If the team didn't support him, who did he have? He'd be alone.

It could come down to that, even if they still believed his innocence, but nobody else did. If the cops and the newspapers called him a killer, how could he stay on the team? Who would hire them with a suspected murderer as part of the unit? Hannibal would have to dump him to restore the team's good name. Maybe they'd even help him out, get him out of the country, and make sure he had plenty of money, but they'd get rid of him for the good of the team and again he'd be alone.

"They're here." Hannibal's voice broke into Face's brooding. A moment later, a soft knock sounded at the door, and Hannibal let BA and Murdock in.

Face rose from the bed as Murdock ran to him. He raised his arms to fend off an embrace, seeing Murdock looked quite agitated and knew he tended to get a bit demonstrative in that state.

"I'm okay, Murdock." He anticipated the question, let Murdock at least put his hands on Face's shoulders.

"You don't look okay."

"Yeah, well never mind. Look... Sit down."

They sat on the bed and Murdock tried to put an arm around Face's shoulders, but Face shrugged it off. Murdock glanced over at where Hannibal and BA stood by the door talking. Then he turned back to Face and spoke quietly.

"Oh, hell, Face. What happened? BA's told me some of it, but --"

"I don't know. I can't remember anything. I... I try to sleep, thinking maybe I'll dream about it, about what really happened I mean, not about..."

Waking up. Finding her. Cold.

He shivered and Murdock did put his arm across Face's shoulders this time, refusing to let Face fend him off.

"You know, you can still go home." Face turned to look at Murdock. "Back to the hospital, I mean."

"Sorry, pal, you're stuck with me," Murdock said shaking his head.

"It's not that I don't appreciate it." He wanted Murdock here, but at the same time, he didn't. "But why screw up your life too?"

"Helping you doesn't count as screwing up my life. Helping you, the team, is... well, you gotta stick with your unit. That's my motto."

"I thought 'always double check you've extended the landing gear' was your motto?" Face asked, with a small smile. Murdock grinned.