Essentially, the story is AU. Bedelia is like the female version of Hannibal. She kills the rude & tries to embarrass them in death. Although she does not remove any organs, she occasionally let's Hannibal take the tongues of her more... Shall we say, chatty victims. I'm going to ignore all of season two for the foreseeable future as I have not seen it yet (I live in England.) Once I have seen it, who knows.

This is a two chapter deal, unless people like it & want me to write more chapters.

"You beckoned & I came running. I just hope it's worth my time." He rasps.

"It will be the most worthwhile thing to ever happen in your life." She promises. She lowers herself to the bed & drapes herself over his shoulders, breasts pushed against his back tantalizingly.

Disclaimer: Whilst I love these characters dearly, I own non of them. Except the victims, they're mine.

Dedications go to my sweet darling little kitten, Hannibal, who sadly died a month ago.

Thanks go to IfMulderCouldSeeMeNow/Kat Harrcolys whose own story, 'Savor', inspired this one, who also helped me with this, giving me advice & reminding me that Bedelia is short & May need to sit her victim down to kill him.

... She snaps his neck with a skilled precision borne of many years practice.

This isn't even physically trying anymore. She realizes. Necessity could account for that. The blonde woman raises her latex gloved hand to her head to run through her shining, glittery curls only to realize they were pulled back from her face to prevent losing even one precious strand. Providing the law with a concrete piece of evidence to identify her with was not on today's To-do list. Not only would He be disappointed in her, she'd be disappointed in herself.

I suppose I don't need to kill these men. She ponders. But He does make life so frustratingly difficult at times that there's nothing else to be done. Men could be so rude anyway- When not raised correctly. She mentally adds. This one even more so.

Answering his phone at the table in a classy French style Bistro whilst the waiter was attempting to talk him through the lunch menu. So rude. She sighs. The world would be so much better off without people like him in it. She had sent a flirtatious smile or two his way when her companion had briefly left to relieve his self & after they had paid the bill she had discreetly dropped a napkin into his lap with the nearest motels name on & a time. Although she did dislike cheapening herself, even for the greater good. After that, it was a matter of waiting. He had been right on time...

A sharp, eager knock at the motel door sends her mind into a controlled flurry.

Is everything ready for her special guest?

"The door is unlocked. Do enter." She beckons.

It's not difficult to hide in the dark. The curtains are pulled closed to maintain an illusion of 'privacy' & only the dying bedside lamp is switched on. It seems fitting. He enters the room, his eyes greedily searching for her in the shadows. She steps up behind him & nudges the door shut with a sneaker clad foot, the sneakers tread melted to a smooth flat surface to avoid trekking in past indiscretions. He whirls around at the soft snick of the door latch sliding into place.

"You beckoned & I came running. I just hope it's worth my time." He rasps, in what he must believe is an alluring tone of voice, but sounds more like he's spent his entire life till now smoking a pack of cigarettes per day.

"It will be the most worthwhile thing to ever happen in your life." She promises, leading him to the musty, threadbare bed. He sits, obediently. It reminds her of a dog taught to sit in anticipation for a milk bone, she sees the metaphorical drool sliding down his person to pool at their feet. He doesn't see her slight shudder.

She lowers herself to the bed & drapes herself over his shoulders, breasts pushed against his back tantalizingly. He feels the rasp of latex against the cheap wool suit as she caresses his shoulders.

"Wha-"

She snaps his neck with a skilled precision borne of many years practice...