Hannibal was the only one left in the living room. He was so upset and so aggravated that it took all his strength to not start shouting swear words and blow his brains out. It was too much.

In the other room he could hear the others laughing and talking. Francesca was retreating back to the kitchen to do some cooking.

"Francesca," he said slowly.

She looked over at him, cracking an egg over a pan, "Yes?"

"If the paper is being tracked, what are we going to do when people show up for it?" he walked into the kitchen.

"I deactivated it, of course," Francesca opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of orange juice. "Hannibal, it'll be fine. We'll be able to handle it."

Hannibal sighed, "It's not that I think we won't be able to handle it. I'm just…"

"You're tired of it. I know," she stopped moving. "You think it's over and it's not. I know that so well. But when you escape from jail and you get involved in this sort of stuff you should expect it."

He didn't reply. He simply nodded.

"Now, what do you want to drink?" Francesca smiled.

Hannibal grunted, "Coffee. Coffee is fine."

She nodded, "Go sit down."

He followed her instructions and walked calmly into the dining room. Polly was handing out plates, Face had his feet up on the table, trying to relax, Murdock had his cap pulled over his eyes, and B.A. was trying to find another knuckle to crack on his hand. Hannibal sat down at the head out the table and looked at face, "Kid, get your feet off the table."

Face did as he was told, smiling meekly.

"Murdock…" Face scolded, pointing to his hat.

Murdock took off his hat and sat up a little straighter, "Yes, quite right, my good man. Lord Baracus, please get your elbows off the table."

The others laughed while B.A. growled under his breath, "I'm gonna kill you."

Polly clasped her hands together and smiled, "I have eggs, bacon, oatmeal, fruit, grits-"

"Grits! I haven't had grits in ages," Murdock threw his cap up in the air and caught it.

"We like the southern cooking here in my house," Polly chortled.

Francesca looked on from the kitchen. She could see Hannibal facing her at the head of the table. He had a grin on his face and was pulling a cigar out of his pocket. Then, Hannibal frowned, looking down in his lap. Francesca knew exactly what he was looking for. She walked into the dining room and pulled a lighter from her robe pocket. She flicked it on, holding it out to him. Seeing her, Hannibal's frown turned into a faint smirk.

Flashback

Francesca led Hannibal into the house. He stopped in the foyer, staring at the house. He was able to see across the house and out the tall windows at the other side. Through the windows, there was a beautiful view of the ocean. "Nice place," he said following her into the kitchen.

She had already started putting some of the ingredients away. Nodding, Francesca replied, "I know. So calm and quiet. That's what I've needed."

He went over to help her, "A lot of work lately?"

"So much," Francesca stopped and sighed.

Hannibal laughed, "What have you been up to?"

"Well," Francesca got a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with water. "I've been doing a ton of field work. Flying to Iraq, India, Russia, Canada, Iceland… to name a few. So much espionage! So much terrorism! But someone has to take care of it. Might as well be me. I'm competing for a promotion.

"I didn't think you could compete for a higher position, considering it's all based on merit," Hannibal frowned.

Francesca reddened and tried to amend her statement, "I mean, it's not a competition, but all of us make it out to be that way. Nobody seems to stop us as long as we get the work done. It's a way to prove ourselves. And I've been doing all of this extra work to prove that I have no problem killing a man with my bare hands or that I'm immune to the schemes of handsome men."

"I'm sure you don't have a problem with the first one," he chuckled.

She narrowed her eyes, "Ha. Ha. Very funny."

He leaned on the counter, "Come on. You're very dedicated and it seems that you don't back down to a challenge. You're a shoe-in."

"Some people don't want to give me the time of day, John," Francesca stared off into space, putting the glass onto the counter.

At that moment, she looked so helpless and vulnerable. Hannibal smiled and put his hands on both of her cheeks, "But I will."

Francesca felt her heart beat more quickly. She couldn't help it. She didn't care if it was just sex or whatever. Throwing her arms around his neck, Francesca whispered, "You know, you might be an army ranger, but underneath that rough exterior, you're really a sweetheart."

"No I'm not," he let his head fall back.

"Yes, you are!" she pulled back a little, giggling.

Hannibal looked into her eyes and gave her a promiscuous look. Suddenly he pulled her off the ground and growled, "Where's the bedroom?"

"Up the stairs, you big lug," Francesca clung onto him for dear life, but burst into hysterics.

He carried her up the stairs and pushed open the door to her bedroom. There was a king bed with white sheets, windows overlooking the waterfront that also led to a balcony, and a mirrored closet. Hannibal dropped her on the bed. Francesca cackled and reached up for him.

"So this is your Italia?" he made his way up the bed toward her.

Shaking her head, Francesca kissed him deeply and then touched his chest, "No, this is your Italia, bastardo pazzo."

Hannibal laughed at her. They kissed passionately for awhile. Hannibal ran his hands up her sides, feeling the curves of her waist. There was a faint ringing that distracted him. Francesca pulled away from the kiss, "I have to get that."

"No you don't," he forced her back down.

"Yes, I do," she kissed him once more.

Despite his wishes, Hannibal let her slip out from beneath him and then collapsed on the bed. Francesca stood in the doorway, popping her foot up flirtatiously, "I won't be long."

Hannibal lay on her bed for a little bit and then glanced at the side table. There was something that appeared to be a plastic box. He rolled over to it and picked it up. It rattled when he shook it. He quickly realized that it was a pill box. Shrugging, he opened it. Inside, there was a row of pills or vitamins. Something, however, disturbed him. It was Friday, but there appeared to be one pill left in every day before it and three in Saturday and Sunday.

He sat up, frowning. Francesca appeared again in the doorway, "Sorry, that was To-" She crossed her arms, "What are you doing?"

"What is this pill for?" Hannibal held it up to her.

"Oh," Francesca shrugged and went into the bathroom adjoined to the bathroom. "It's birth control."

"You're not taking your birth control?" he looked to her.

She had started to take off her dress, but she speedily slipped the straps back up, "No, I have not been."

"Why, may I ask?" Hannibal closed the box and got off the bed.

"I haven't needed it," Francesca looked at him, confused.

He gasped, "You haven't been having sex with anyone while you've been here?"

"I'm not that big of a slut, John," Francesca put her hands on her hips.

"Aren't you supposed to be taking this regularly?"

She scoffed, "Yeah, so?"

Hannibal crossed his arms, "So that you don't get pregnant."

Francesca glowered, "And to coordinate with that the man is supposed to wear a- say it with me- condom."

"Well, I don't have one, so you should take this," he threw the box to her.

She didn't even bother to catch it. It just fell to the ground, "I'm not going to take it."

Hannibal gawked at her, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Is there a point to this? Are you trying to get pregnant?"

"That's not my point. My point is that you can't depend on the woman to try and prevent herself from getting pregnant. That's not how it works. It takes two to tango, two to play checkers, and two to create life," Francesca explicated. There was a beat and she continued, "Unless you're asexual. That would be a feat."

They stared at one another for a long time. Hannibal started laughing, "Okay. Okay, you're right."

Francesca smiled smugly, "I know I'm right."

End Flashback

Francesca sat down at the table with her own plate. Polly was across from her, smiling and chatting with the boys. "Francesca came home at four in the morning and tried to tell me she had car trouble," she explained.

"Oookay," Francesca picked up her plate and walked back into the kitchen.

"Oh, Checka sit back down," Polly called.

"If you're going to talk about my teenage escapades, then I'm not sticking around," Francesca sighed.

Face urged her to sit, "Sit with us, eat with us, let us laugh at you."

She glared at him and smacked him in the back of the head.

"Ow!" he rubbed his hair.

"You were asking for that, man," B.A. chuckled.

She sat down despite her better judgment. Polly continued, "Of course that doesn't compare to the time she came home wasted and tried to convince me she had epilepsy. I almost believed her until she vomited in my lap."

Francesca dropped her fork and sank into her chair. Murdock laughed, "Hey, little lady, we've all been there."

"No, definitely not," she covered her face. "Definitely not."

Hannibal stared at Francesca with a funny grin on his face.

Polly smirked, "But the best was the time-"

"Hey, Polly. Do you remember that time when you were having sex with the mail man in Mary's bedroom? Or the time you accidentally ate our pot brownies and you walked around the house naked for three days?" Francesca picked up her glass of orange juice and grinned.

Everyone was quiet for a little bit. Polly was on the verge of a crazy fit of giggling. Francesca laughed first and everyone followed. Murdock was almost falling out of his chair.

"Fair enough, young grasshopper," Polly smiled.

Francesca finished in a hurry and cleaned her plate off quietly. "Let's do some work guys."

Polly followed her, "I'm going to the fabric store, so are you guys going to be alright here?"

Nodding, Francesca turned to her guardian, "Yeah, I'm going to go out and get some parts for this and I'll probably take one of the boys with me."

"Alright. I'd take that one Face if I were you," Polly murmured, laughing.

"Yeah, I knew you would," Francesca pursed her lips.

Face turned from the table, "Um… I can hear you."

"No you can't," Francesca raised her eyebrows. "Can you Face?"

He began to speak, but Hannibal beat him, "You can't hear her." He shook his head slowly.

Francesca grinned and looked back at Polly, "Okay, get going."

"Bye, love," Polly kissed her cheek.

After Polly left, Francesca turned, "Face get ready, we're going to the store." He didn't respond. "Face…Face!"

"I can't hear her," he looked to Hannibal.