El Diablo

Written by: Takada Saiko

Notes: I do not own them. This idea just popped in my head today while I was driving around and I thought 'hehe... poor Face...', came home, and wrote. Enjoy!

She knew she shouldn't be there. No matter how much she wanted to believe – knew – that Face and his teammates were innocent, they were still fugitives from the law, and she had lost her ranking because of him once. Templeton "Faceman" Peck was bad news all around for her. So why was she standing in some dark back alley in the worst parts of LA waiting for him?

"Charisa."

Charisa Sosa turned to see those beautiful blue eyes staring down at her. "Face," she greeted sternly.

"I'm glad you could make it."

He sounded genuine, and that made Charisa frown. She'd kept tabs on him over the years and had seen his many bouts with many women. She'd never admit it, but he'd been right about their relationship, but of course it would never leave her lips that she knew it. "Face, I hope that you know I could get in a lot of trouble for this. You said it was urgent."

He nodded and took her wrist. They moved through the streets without a word and to a hotel. It wasn't the trashiest place that Charisa had ever seen, but it was enough to know that Face and his team were hurting some for money. She'd heard about their shenanigans. They'd hired themselves out, but were very selective in which cases they took. She'd wager, knowing how Hannibal Smith usually worked, that the last couple of jobs had not paid well. Still, she followed without question.

Face led her to a room, slid the card into the lock, and ushered her inside. Her breath caught when she saw that the tiny table in the small room had been pulled to the center, a sheet covering it, and dinner put out on it. Wine sat waiting for them.

"I knew you wouldn't be in town long, so I thought I'd make the most of it," Face explained, flashing his trademark smile. "I know it's not much, but ya know, money's tight right now."

"And the infamous Faceman couldn't come up with something elaborate?" Charisa remarked with a small smile.

Face only shrugged and moved in, dropping his jacket to the bed nearest the door. Charisa surveyed the room, noting a bag sitting over against the furthest bed. They must have had to share rooms.

"I made sure we'd be alone for the evening," Face assured her as he wrapped his arms around her. "All night long, if it's the case." He leaned forward and gently kissed her.

She pulled away. "Listen here, Face, you can't just expect for me to come running every time I'm in town like your own personal little squeeze."

"I never said that, Charisa!" he argued. "I thought we'd put all that away." He continued his kisses as she continued her protest, each kiss moving down her jaw line so that eventually her words were cut short and she wrapped her arms around his neck, giving in.

Without warning the door burst open and both Face and Charisa jumped up like students caught behind the bleachers. HM Murdock seemed to be having a conversation with himself – or perhaps his newly obtained, invisible dog that he had dubbed "Billy" – as he entered, so fully absorbed in the talk that he didn't notice the two sprawled out on Face's bed until he was halfway through the room. Finally he turned, eyes wide. "It's El Diablo!" he announced, pointing straight at the very confused Charisa.

"What?" she managed, sounding indigent.

Face was on his feet immediately, shuffling Murdock back out of the door. "Hey, buddy, I thought we had an agreement? Faceman gets a few hours of privacy while Murdock goes and… does something else. Anything else. Please?"

"Ah, man, was that tonight?" the pilot drawled, looking as if he were trying to recall.

"That was tonight."

They stood and stared at each other for a long moment, Face waiting for Murdock to leave and Murdock seemingly trying to find something that resembled a memory of the agreement within the tangled labyrinth of his mind.

After a moment his eyes lit up. "Oh yeah! Well, I just needed to grab Billy's tennis ball and we'll be on our way," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He walked right past Charisa, never making eye contact, grabbed a tennis ball from his bag by his bed, and scooted right back out as if nothing had happened.

Face was sure he even heard him yell out "Fetch!" and the sound of a ball bouncing down the hall as he closed the door. He turned back with an apology on his lips. "I am so sorry, Charisa," he managed. "He's got this new fascination with this dog that isn't there… Named him Billy. We're not quite sure where he gets this stuff…."

The shock looked faded from Charisa's features and she straightened her shoulders and narrowed her eyes. "El Diablo, Face?"

All the color drained from the conman's face. "I can explain…."