Melody was sitting in her lecture hall. Everyone had already left, she was quickly scribbling some notes. She was excited about that last question the professor had asked; If we could make a difference, no strings or rules attached; what would we do?

It had her thinking of her previous lecture from Will Graham, about that woman who had murdered a criminal in such a gory manner. Maybe the teachers knew who it was, and were trying to figure it out. She pondered this as she shoved her books into her bag.

"Miss. Milan is it?" a loud, deep voice rung out from the door.

She looked up, standing in the doorway was an African-American man with glass, a suit and shortly cut hair that had flecks of grey in it. He had a lecture's visitor badge hanging from his suit's breast pocket. She walked to the door, so she wasn't shouting at him.

"I am sir." she slung her bag onto her back. "And who, might I ask, are you?"

"A little birdy," the man said, crossing his arms, a twinge of a smile playing on his lips. "A little, foreign bird, was flying by and told me that a young woman was looking to get into the Behavioural Science Unit."

"That would make you Jack Crawford then, sir?" she extended her hand. "It's a pleasure."

He took her hand and shook it, "I hear you made quite an impression on Dr Lectre. He can read people in a certain way, so I expect great things from you."

"A demonstration in order sir?" she tilted her head curiously.

"Demonstration?" he asked. "I don't understand?"

"Of course," she smiled and shifted her bag. "I didn't show the good doctor because he was smart enough to see just as much as I."

She looked him over, spotting his ring; "A long marriage with a lovely wife"

She spotted the sweat on his neck, his face was dry, however; "You possibly ran here from your car, Dr Lectre told you not long after seeing me, so you were in your office previous to this."

She noticed a bit of grime on his knee, he had been kneeling somewhere in the field; "You were at a crime scene this morning, possibly the one that Mr Graham was showing us of the blood drained body."

She sniffed the air, closing her eyes, he smelled clean, a hint of cologne on him; "And you bought a new cologne, one that you are trying to see if you like," she sighed. "Or a gift."

Jack stood, dumbfounded. He was looking her over, drinking her in, as if he had never seen her before until now.

After a moment of silence he said in a soft, breathless voice; "I'm going to make a special request of the board of governor's; you're too good to be wasting another moment in a classroom." he extended his hand again, an invitation. "I would like to bring you onto the field with me."

She was awestruck. Was she dreaming? How could this have happened so fast? She was just talking to Doctor Lecter a moment ago. Had the Doctor known this much about her at a glance too?

She shivered at the thought, trying to hide it as nerves she shook his hand again. "I would love to." her voice quivered with airy excitement.

An hour later she was marching deep in the heart of a building; Jack Crawford was worried about something. This was possibly not the first time he took a student from their classes. The last time something must have gone horribly wrong.

They walked to the glass-walled room, inside was a body on the cold metal table. Inside the room reeked of blood and formaldehyde.

"Who's she?" asked an Asian woman, in goggles and a white investigative outfit, meant for examining the victim, she couldn't think of the name.

"Beverly Katz, this is Melody Milan," Jack said. "I was hoping she could investigate the body."

Beverly looked over Melody and stepped back. A twinkle in her eye told Melody that the woman was holding back some sort of sarcastic remark.

"Go ahead," Jack said, pulling down the sheet so she could see the whole body.

It was a woman, still in her underwear, a young girl, possibly late teens. Her hair dark and long, her skin pale from the blood that had drained from her body. The source of the blood loss were large piercing wounds about an inch in diameter a few in her chest and some abrasions on her arms.

"She was hung up." she looked over the body. "Bled out on what she hung on." she leaned in close and sniffed, she smelled warm and earthy. "Relatively fresh body; hung in a log cabin on antlers."

She looked to Jack and he smiled and nodded, gesturing for her to continue. She sniffed the body again, the smell on it was familiar, it reminded her of the soap smell Lecter gave off.

"The killer left some of his knuckle skin in her teeth." she noticed the blood that remained. "But it's been removed."

She looked over the wounds again, there was bruising under the hair near the temple. "She was killed by a blow to the head." she sniffed around the victims head, then a thought flickered into her head, about the body she had heard that had been hung on antlers in a field weeks previous.

"This is..." she sighed and backed up, thinking of the name she had heard Will Graham mutter once or twice. "This is a body from the Chesapeake Ripper."

"Well," Beverly broke the silence. "Colour me a shocked, Will said the same."

"I know," Jack said. "I didn't say a thing to her before we entered here and she practically constructed the crime scene and the murderer for us. I have another Will."

Melody tilted her head, "I can't get into the mind of the killer though." she smiled. "But I could try to come up with motive."

She looked over the body; "A message," she smirked as she figured it out. "He's trying to blame someone, make a lovely story for the media involving bodies, pin it on a dumb teen or the Minnesota Shrike and weave a possibly from that. He's planning and cunning, you won't find him unless he wants you too. He likes being the puppeteer; through his dolls or with others."

Beverly chuckled, "Can we keep her boss?"

"I'm free all week." she quipped to Beverly. "But I cost double on the weekend."

She chuckled, "Oh you'll fit in just fine, sweetheart."

"Down girl," Jack said, a smile on his lips. "How would like you to report to a psyche-eval with Doctor Lecter, as I'm sure Dr Bloom is busy?"

She smiled, feeling a tinge of excitement; "I would love to, sir." she smirked, fixing her bag. "If it means I can be apart of the team you have sir."

"I need a level-headed Will," Jack said. "Doctor Bloom doesn't want him too close so you're the best alternative."

She opened her phone, "Do I need to call Lecter or will you sir?" she asked.

"I will." he smiled and opened the door for them. "I need to talk to him a moment or two, I have your contact info so I will message."

"Great meeting you Beverly." Melody waved with a grin as the exited. "I can see myself out, sir."

"See ya." Beverly shot as she continued on the body.

"Not without me," he said as they reached the stairs. "You don't have clearance yet."

He saw her off and she drove away with an excited buzzing in her head.

About an hour later she had showered in her apartment and felt hundreds of times cleaner and better than the other day. Her phone had gone off when she entered the shower, but it was only a message so she checked when she exited.

It was from an unknown number, a quick message;

It's Jack. Lecter can see you in a half hour at 6 if you can make it.

She messaged back instantly that she would be there and started to get dressed. He sent her directions as she grabbed her car keys and sent quick thanks as she locked up and headed downstairs.

She was at the regal looking building within ten minutes. It was a few stories up, on the third floor that Lecter's office was.

She was waiting in the first room she found. It had red sitting chairs. It was possibly a waiting area. However, there was no receptionist or secretary for him.

She waited, when a clock within struck six she stood, adjusting her skirt. She had decided to wear her business casual. If she was to work with a man in a business suit it would only be best. She flattened her blouse's hem as the door opened.

"Miss. Milan." Lecter was in the doorway, graciously holding it wide. "You look strikingly beautiful out of uniform."

He stepped back to allow her in, "Though I suppose in the field this may be your new uniform."

"Jack informed me of this meeting only just after a shower," she scoffed entering the room. "Or else maybe a bit of makeup and something done to my hair would have painted me in a better light."

She was stunned by the room. It was beautiful. Large, high ceilings, allowing a bookcase up in a loft farthest from the door. He had tall, elegant windows, the curtains drawn on them at this hour. Everything in the room from the curtains to the wall and the exotic afghans on the floor followed a red and white colour pattern, with greys and blacks. He had a handsome desk with a reddish tinge to the dark wood.

Behind his business desk appeared to be a small drawing desk, with a perfectly detailed drawing of Saint Peter's Square in Rome. Behind the desk a small black and Gothic appearing fireplace.

She wandered to the drawing desk, being an artist before she switched careers she was stunned. "È magnifico." she barely whispered, drinking in the detail on the columns and the obelisk in the centre of the square.

"Ovvaimente," Lecter said, calmly, the words flowing from his mouth like it was his mother tongue, "È palese rispetto all'architettura reale." (Of course, it pales in comparison to the actual architecture.)

"You speak Italian?" she asked him. "I'd be impressed but I am more awestruck by the detail of St Peter's."

She smiled sadly at the sketch, "I wish I could see all Italy has to offer."

"Why not go?" he asked. "You have nothing holding you here but yourself."

"That is just it," she sighed. "I have a duty I need to uphold for now, but one day..."

"You could just take the next flight," he smiled. "Call in sick and spend the time there until you are ready to return."

She laughed, "I would never wish to." she ran her hand through her damp hair, tearing from the drawing. "Drinks in Venice waterways, sketching the day away on the Ponte Vecchio, drinking in the whole of Il Vaticano."

He smiled, and tilted his head; "I would bring you there." he chuckled. "If you let me."

She chuckled, and shook her head, taking a seat and placing her purse beside herself. "Not so soon, you need to know me first." she sat back, her eyes flashing at him. "After all, I am impressed you have stayed so quite so long."

He blinked, standing next to his chair; "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, I won't say the name." she smiled. "After all it is not one you choose. And it fits you poorly."

He had a flicker of anger cross his face; "I assure you I don't understand what you mean."

"You do," she said simply. "But I am not dumb enough to say it. Just like you knew how I am when you saw me."

There was no mistaking the flash in his eyes now. He spoke carefully, not tearing his gaze from her.

"We have privacy to say what we will here." he sat down, consciously. "I am who you think or say I am. Then who are you?"

She smirked, she had whiffed his blood pumping hard in fear.

"I am just a fallen angel," she smirked wider. "Here to rid the world of sickly-minded humans that plague the earth."