A/N: Hands up everyone who thought I'd forgotten about this fic? . . . Yeah, sorry about that ::grin:: Hope this makes up for the wait. Susan, thanks for betaing. Disclaimers etc. are in chapter one.

Emma was unusually quiet during dinner. She picked listlessly at the food on her plate and tried to ignore Ardelia's conversation with Kersh.

"Excuse me." She stood. Even here, the manners her mother had instilled in her as a child had not disappeared.

Freeman followed her to the kitchen. "Hey. How you holding up?"

Emma shrugged. "I don't know. I think this is the most excitement I've ever had in my life." She scraped her leftovers into the bin, then stopped abruptly and looked at Freeman. "Aunt Ardelia said my mom was shot. Is that true?"

He hesitated. "There was some blood found at the scene."

"My mother's?"

"I'm not sure, but it seems likely."

"Are you sure it's not mine? My head . . ." She trailed off.

"It wasn't anywhere near where you were."

Emma leaned against the counter and hugged her arms to her chest. She appreciated his honesty, but still . . . "It feels like I'm in a movie . . . only this is real and I'm a little . . . I don't know."

"It's okay to be afraid."

She chuckled. "I'm not afraid. I don't know how I feel." She looked at him again and her eyes were dark, unreadable. "Do you think it's wrong of me to still want to meet him?"

"Your father?"

"Yes."

She looked older than her years and Freeman wondered just how innocent she was in all of this. He was about to speak when she smiled, and suddenly she was sixteen again.

"Never mind. I'm being silly." She opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of orange juice. "You want some?"

"Is there any Coke left?" When she wrinkled her nose, he asked, "What?"

"I don't know how you can drink that stuff."

"Don't tell me you're one of those health nuts."

She laughed. "No. I just know what's good."

"Coca Cola is the nectar of the gods."

Emma raised an eyebrow but poured him a glass. "Your poison, sir."

"Thank you." As he took a sip, he wondered, considering her genes, just how much of a joke that was. Almost immediately, he told himself he was being stupid.

The argument between Kersh and Ardelia had heated up and Emma and Freeman could hear them in the kitchen.

"I don't care if the order came from the president himself, I will not let you use Emma as bait!"

"What other choice do we have?"

"I will not compromise Emma's life!"

"Lecter will come after her. She'll be safer if we do things my way—"

"No. Find another way."

Then everything went quiet. Kersh came into the kitchen. "You ready to go, Emma?"

"Go where?"

"A different safe house."

Emma looked past Kersh. "Where's Aunt Ardelia?"

"She's busy with a phone call. She isn't coming with us."

Emma took a step backwards, not fully trusting Kersh. "Why not?"

"She needs to head back to DC."

"Aunt Ardelia!"

"Come on, Emma. We need to leave." Kersh lost all pretense of patience. He took a step towards Emma.

The lights went out.

It felt strange to be in Clarice Starling's house. Though he knew no one was there, Anderson still expected someone to walk out of the kitchen and demand to know what he was doing there.

He wished he had the answer. He wished he'd told Kersh to shove his request up his ass.

He wished a lot of things.

The more he thought about this situation, the more uneasy he felt. Something was not quite right, and Anderson was sure it had everything to do with Kersh.

He should have stood up to Kersh a long time ago.

Still, Kersh had told Anderson to go to Clarice's house, and here he was.

After an hour of searching through letters and old editions of the 'Tattler', all Anderson knew for sure was that Clarice Starling had an unhealthy interest in Lecter. Try as he might, it was impossible for him to picture Clarice and Lecter having sex. If it weren't for Emma, Anderson would have sworn it had never happened.

It didn't occur to him that all he knew of Clarice was the woman he saw at work. He knew nothing of the real Clarice, of all that she'd endured and why she'd chosen this particular path. That he knew almost nothing about her didn't phase him. All that mattered was that, like him, she was on Kersh's bad list, and that made them alike.

It wasn't a conscious decision to help her. In fact, it had more to do with Anderson's own agenda than any interest for Clarice's well being.

Clarice had one more ally, but it was too little, too late. Everything was already in motion.

Clarice didn't really consider herself a violent woman. True, she had killed before, but always in the line of duty. She considered the events of Muskrat Farm as part of her duty. There were few moments in her life where she had felt rage strong enough to kill. Muskrat Farm had been one such instance, and only now was she beginning to allow herself to understand why she'd felt that way.

When she'd learned that Kersh had taken her daughter to a safe house, she'd felt that same rage. Like a mother bear defending her young, every protective instinct in her rose to the surface and she would let nothing stand in the way of getting Emma back.

For such a complicated operation, the plan was relatively simple. But, like almost everything else in Clarice's life, Fate had other ideas.

The safe house was not nearly as safe as Kersh thought. Using the groundplans Ardelia had emailed to Clarice, she and Lecter knew exactly where everything was. It took ten minutes to sneak onto the property and cut the power. There was an open window on the north side of the house that they climbed through. They knew Ardelia would assist them in their escape and she'd assured them that Freeman's primary concern would be Emma's safety. Kersh was a problem they would both be happy to take care of.

What they didn't count on was Emma's own escape plan.

The lights went out. Kersh knew immediately that something was wrong. Rather than panic, he felt the thrill of anticipation. He would catch Lecter and Clarice and he would be a hero. Nothing would stand in his way of becoming Director.

Of course, he assumed everything would go his way. He was wrong, and it was a fatal mistake.

He heard a noise at the kitchen door. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, he saw a figure slip out. He took a step forward then felt an arm around his throat and the barrel of a gun against his temple.

Clarice's voice was low and deadly in his ear. "Where is she?"

Kersh's next mistake was thinking that Clarice was afraid of him. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in, Agent Starling?"

Freeman moved towards them. Kersh smiled, certain that he would easily disarm Clarice. His smile faded as Clarice swung her weapon in Freeman's direction.

"Don't move!"

Freeman put his gun on the counter, raised his hands and stepped backwards.

Idiot, Kersh thought. Did Freeman really think Clarice could hit him in the dark?

"Put the gun down, Agent Starling. Turn yourself in and I can help you."

Clarice chuckled. "You'd sooner see Ardelia as Director than help me."

"Agent Starling—"

Her hold tightened. "Where is my daughter? You have five seconds before I shoot you. One, two . . ."

He didn't doubt her sincerity. "I don't know."

"Don't lie to me, Kersh. I'm not in the mood for games." There was an edge of desperation to her words, and Kersh suddenly remembered she'd been shot. He elbowed her in the ribs, satisfied to hear her sharp indrawn breath. She released him, doubling over.

"I'll take care of this, Freeman. Go after the girl."

Lecter felt for a pulse on Ardelia's neck. He'd seen a shape slumped over the dining room table and had let Clarice go ahead while he checked it out. It seemed that they'd got here just in time.

Ardelia moaned something unintelligible. Lecter left her and headed for the kitchen. He stopped just short of the door, listening to the conversation from within. When he heard Clarice gasp in pain, he stiffened. There was more talking, then the sound of a door opening and closing again. Lecter slipped out his Harpy and crept quietly into the kitchen. Kersh towered over Clarice, his back to Lecter.

"You really should have done things my way, Agent Starling," Kersh said.

Lecter moved closer.

"Go to hell." Lecter could tell that Clarice was in agony. He was right behind Kersh now. The idiot had no idea he was there, so focused was he on Clarice's humiliation.

"Good evening," Lecter said.

Kersh whirled around. Lecter was quick, and had the blade in and out before Kersh could even blink. Kersh pressed a hand to his side then raised startled eyes to Lecter's face. He opened and closed his mouth but said nothing. Lecter stepped past him and helped Clarice up.

"Are you alright, my dear?"

She nodded, though it was clear how much effort it took.

"What did he do?"

"Elbowed me. Think he may have burst the stitches." When Lecter tried to see, she batted his hands away. "I'm okay. Emma's outside. The other agent . . ."

Lecter glanced at Kersh. Bleeding out on the floor, he posed no threat to Clarice.

"I'll find her," he promised.

When Emma had arrived at the safe house, she'd decided that as soon as she got the chance, she'd run. She reasoned that her parents would have a better chance of getting to her if she wasn't being used as bait. She hadn't mentioned her plan to Ardelia, afraid that her godmother would try to dissuade her.

When the lights went out, she'd tried the door handle, half expecting that it would be locked. But Kersh had gone out to answer his cell phone earlier that day, and hadn't locked the door when he'd come back inside.

Emma ran.