Okay... so, I haven't updated this in about 9 months. Sorry about that! The joys of exams... well I passed most of my exams - except Physics! I got a D! Haha... anyways, this is slowly coming to a close, there's maybe one or two chapters left. So... Ja, happy reading I guess.

"To continued happiness and dreamless nights, my dear." Lecter flashed her a smile as he raised his crystal wine glass, the dark liquid shone black as the moon gazed down upon the couple.

"For the both of us, Hannibal." Clarice raised her glass before taking a sip of the full-bodied, fruity wine. She placed the wine glass on the grass beside her before leaning back into his body, Hannibal's arms locked around her body, protecting her against the cold winter breeze. She tilted her head back, her lips meeting his in a gentle kiss. Starling felt him smile against her lips as she nipped at his skin.

"Happy Birthday, my dear." She spun around in his arms, pressing the length of her body against his own, and met his lips once more in a sweet, tender kiss.

The early sunlight diffused through the window, breaking through the crack in the curtains and spattering over the dishevelled silk bed sheets. Clarice Starling sighed contentedly, smiling as she looked over to her lover, his hair tousled and his bare chest moving up and down in a steady rhythm. She lightly kissed his forehead before sliding from the sheets and moving into the bathroom to shower, her feet making little pit-pat noises on the stone flooring of the bathroom.

She languidly showered and eventually stepped out, and, having successfully steamed up the entire bathroom, had to grope around looking for a towel. Upon finding one she tied it around her body and strolled back into the master bedroom. He hadn't gotten up yet and she didn't want to wake him, he looked so peaceful and innocent when he slept. She slowly dried her body, applying the custom scented body cream Lecter had brought her and picking up his discarded silk shirt from the night before, amazingly it was still in one piece, and she slipped it over her head before towel drying her hair and walking downstairs. She walked into the kitchen and filled the kettle with water before placing it on the stove.

Just as she had begun pouring out coffee for Hannibal and herself she felt his arms wrap around her waist and he alternately kissed and nipped softly at her neck and ear. She moaned and leaned back into him.

"Good Morning, dear." He said his voice rough and husky as he took the kettle from her hands and continued to pour the hot water into the mugs.

"Mmm…hi." She turned her head and captured his lips, kissing him lightly at first until he began to deepen the kiss, quickly placing the kettle on the side and pushing her away from the hot drinks before lifting her onto the counter, positioning his body between her legs. He cupped her cheek, his fingers caressing the almost healed scars there. It had been five months since she had gained those scars, all of her scars emotional and physical scars had begun to heal.

He continued to kiss her as his hand caressed her thigh moving up over her abdomen before he cupped her breast.

"Mhm, Hannibal… please, H…. not in the kitchen." He nipped at her bottom lip again before releasing her and helping her down off of the marble countertop.

"Besides I'm hungry." He smiled as she moved the coffee onto the kitchen table.

"Hungry for what I wonder?" He raised an eyebrow and she laughed before swatting his arm.

"Food, you know damn well I'm starving for a proper breakfast this morning… we barely got through dinner last night."

He smiled, fondly remembering the night before. Lecter moved towards the fridge as Starling jumped off the counter, pulling out a carton of eggs, butter, prosciutto ham and some parmesan cheese. He quickly began to make an omelette, putting some oil in the pan to heat as he began to whisk the eggs. Within five minutes he had cooked Clarice an omelette. She sighed as the smells of Hannibal Lecter's wonderful cooking met her and quickly bounded from the chair, stealing the plate from his hand as soon as the omelette had made contact with the china. She picked up a knife and fork from the silverware drawer and began to eat like a starving man. Hannibal sat down opposite her, smiling into his coffee as she eagerly consumed the omelette within mere minutes.

He turned around quickly when the doorbell rang. His trusted harpy was automatically within his palm. He held a hand for Clarice to stay where she was and walked silently towards the door, his heightened senses on high alert. He unlocked the door calmly.

"Guten Morgen, Herr Doktor."

A solemn tone of German escaped from the man standing at Hannibal's door. Lecter quickly took in the man's appearance; dark circles beneath his eyes from a lack of sleep, a potent smell of highly caffeinated tobacco and alcohol, his uniform is creased, but not as much as one would expect considering he has been wearing it every day for the past six months, indicating that he is here on official business and only had enough time to quickly run an iron over it. The black briefcase was obviously given to him by a lawyer, it's too well made to be owned by a lieutenant colonel and much too small for this bulky gentleman. Hannibal looked into Wolfgang Pagel's dark emerald eyes and noted the hidden sadness behind them as he took off his visor cap.

"I'm sorry if I am interrupting anything. However, I am here on business and it's vital it be finished today."

"Of course, Herr Pagel. Please, come in." Lecter held the door open for the other man, allowing him entry. He took Wolf's great-coat and hung it on the coat stand before leading the man into the kitchen and offering him a seat.

"Would you care for some tea?" Pagel shook his head and stared at his rough, overly large hands for a long moment. Hannibal took a seat next to Clarice and the two watched as Pagel composed himself before speaking.

"Now, as you know, six months ago… six months ago Colonel Hollie Gladwin went missing. The Berlin Polizei has been investigating the situation thoroughly and the evidence… the evidence suggests unequivocally that she is dead." His voice hitched several times and he ran a hand down his face, covering his mouth for a few moments before continuing.

"In light of this I found the last will and testament of Hollie Reinhardt, née Gladwin. She had left a newly revised version on her desk at the Bendlerblock, along with a note, Herr Doktor. It informed me of your whereabouts and that I was to only read the will to yourself, Miss Starling and an old friend of hers. As I had already found Lieutenant-Colonel March, it came upon me to see that I found the both of you."

He pulled the well-kept black leather briefcase from the floor and quickly unlocked it, flipping the top open. Pagel extracted a thick bundle of cream coloured papers, unrolling them he began to read.

" I, Hollie Louise Gladwin-Reiche, being of sound and disposing mind, do hereby make, publish and declare the following to be my last will and testament, revoking all previous will and codicils made by me. "

Wolf mumbled to himself as he read quickly through the paragraphs until he came upon those that he needed.

"To Doctor Hannibal Lecter, I hereby leave: my family estate located in the black forest;" Wolf pulled out an old, yellowing deed that had a black ribbon tied around it and a red wax seal that bared the crest of her family. A large set of keys followed it.

"The photo album from our travels, although I know he not need it; both my house in Berlin and in Hamburg and my original Bundeswehr ceremonial sword that saved me through times of desperation and struggle."

He took out a large brown leather photo album that was decorated with an intricate paisley design, some more deeds that were also sealed with crimson wax and a black ribbon and more keys. He passed them over to Lecter who nodded curtly. Pagel picked up a long oak box, it was around 37inches in length. He gently placed it on the table, standing as he opened it. Wolf cautiously brought out the sheathed sword. The weapon had a Silver-plated lion's head hilt with hand-wound grip, Einigheit-Recht-Freiheit was engraved on the hilt band and gold filigree had been laid into the handle and as Lecter took it he unsheathed it. To him it felt perfectly balanced and had been well cared for over the years, his maroon eyes looked down into the silver steel for a long moment. It was decorated with fine, oak leaves, and the ceremonial oath engraved on its length, he saw flashes of Gladwin in full ceremonial uniform with this sword at her side, so rarely taken out of its scabbard but it had always lain at her side like the silent friend with an unwavering loyalty; always there when you need it and always ready to defend you. Starling was silent when Wolf sat back down and looked at her.

"To Clarice. M Starling, I leave my Walther P.38, may it serve her as reliably as it has done me, may her aim stay true and her trigger finger be swift. I also leave her my journals, I hope they will enlighten her as to the truth she wanted from me so often."

He handed her the pistol before pulling out a small pile of leather backed journals and sliding them over the table to her.

"Now," He looked up from the papers, his green eyes dull and void of happiness. "There is one final thing, Herr Doktor. She has requested that I give you... That I give you these."

Wolf extracted two palm-sized black leather boxes and handed them to Lecter. Hannibal already knew what they contained but opened them nonetheless. Staring back at him were two white gold wedding rings, one was a simple band for a man and the other was an open curved white-gold band that delicately accentuated the asscher cut diamond. Clarice marveled at the two beautifully matching rings.

"I hope these bring you as much happiness they brought me." Wolf quoted from his folder of papers.

Clarice felt a blush cover her cheeks as she lowered her head in attempt to hide it, a stolen glance from her periphery to Hannibal let her know nothing of what he thought; he was the master of concealed emotion.

"I know this may be difficult for the both of you but... Well, she asked that the both of you come to the funeral but there's a little complication for you, Herr Doktor; it's a state funeral; I have no idea whether it will be televised." He flipped through the papers. "However... Ah, she really did think of everything - even in the face of death she thought of everything... except her own fucking safety." His hand quickly covered his eyes and he angrily rubbed away the tears.

"I'm sorry... She requested that it not be televised. The official date for the funeral is the 27th of this month, if you wish to come I will meet you at Potsdamer Platz train station."

"But we have nowhere to stay..." Starling began.

"Of course you do! You own her house now." He snapped, his voice was harsher than he expected. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so short tempered..." He looked down at the floor, staring blankly at his boots.

"I should go. I... I will see you soon, Herr Doktor, Detective Starling." He nodded to the couple before placing the last of the papers within his briefcase and headed for the door. He shrugged the trench-coat on and took his visor cap, nervously passing it from one hand to the other. Hannibal opened the door for him.

"Herr Doktor... there is one other thing..."

The couple woke early on the 26th, ready to travel to Berlin from Cologne. Their bags were already packed and they changed quickly before exiting the house and walking in silence towards the patiently waiting taxi. It was a 50 minute drive to Cologne and the pair sat in the back of the mercedes, neither spoke. Starling simply curled her body against Lecter's side, her arm loosely wrapping around his waist while her head was buried into his shoulder. Hannibal held her close for the journey.

So.. it's true. Gladwin is dead... She always seemed so... so...invincible! Especially with some of the stunts she pulled! But Gladwin gave her life to save mine, she... she traded herself in my place so that I could have this life. It's all my fault! If I hadn't followed her... If I had just trusted her and waited for the truth...

"What are you thinking?" He asked, his voice was soft, as he traced an index finger along her jawline. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it unable to figure out how to word it exactly.

"You know you can tell me anything, Clarice." She nodded before taking a deep breath.

"I... I was thinking about.. about Gladwin." He looked deep into her blue eyes, saw the guilt-ridden conviction, and sighed.

"Clarice, do not regret what happened. It does not do well to dwell on what-ifs and forget the present. Hollie felt she had nothing and no one to live for anymore - therefore she willingly gave her life for your own because she saw that you could have what she believed she could never have; a family and unconditional happiness."

"Why? Why couldn't she have those things? This is what I don't understand." Lecter took her small hand within his own, entwining their fingers. His thumb gently stroked the back of her hand.

"Hollie had become unyieldingly faithful to her husband and when he died she was distraught and extremely angry, especially when she found out who killed him. She could be a very vengeful person at times."

"What happened?"

"After his death? She found the men involved and murdered them but not until she had broken them, tortured them until they no longer had the strength to even beg for their deaths." Starling's face whited and she forced the disgust away. She knew Gladwin could kill without second thought but it still seemed wrong.

"Who murdered him? Her husband, I mean." She quickly changed the topic.

"The same man who kidnapped you, darling. She thought that Hans was the only man who unconditionally loved her, every side of her, both light and dark, and he did but he wasn't the only one."

"So Nikolai loved Gladwin too?" Clarice asked.

"Yes, and she loved him back."

"What?" Clarice sat back, nearly stunned. "But why? How could she?

"It is very complicated, Clarice. Nikolai is the embodiment of the darker side of her personality and he knows it, he uses it to his advantage. During the war Hollie was forced to infiltrate the KGB to do this she pursued Nikolai but she forgot her one rule: never burden yourself with emotions for, although they are ornamental enough in peacetime, they are out of place here on the front lines."

The car came to a halt, letting them know they have arrived. They quickly stepped out of the cream mercades and Hannibal quickly paid the driver after he removed their bags from the trunk of the car. Lecter carried both suitcases and the two walked quickly into the train station, they arrived just in time to board the 8:30 train to Berlin. Once boarded and settled into their own personal cabin, Clarice pulled out a journal of Hollie's to read with her legs tucked under her and leaning against the window, she opened to the first page.

We're moving. Mother decided enough is enough. Today we move back to Germany. Ever since DCI... no, ever since Father died last year the snide comments and isolation from the community have gotten worse, Mother says we will need to move to East Berlin, Uncle Georg has a house there... Thankfully he won't be there! He ran away to Argentina with the rest of the Nazis. Apparently mother's been thinking about moving since the funeral but decided to wait, to let me finish my A-levels first. Hopefully East Berlin won't be as bad as what I've heard.

This evening Major Ivanov came back... I managed to get out and go to work before he and Yuri noticed me... they think we're all fascists! Thank God then Nazis burnt most of their documents! There's no proof about what the Oberführer did!

The underground is getting stronger but it won't last long; the Stasi always find us eventually. I... I found mother on the floor when I came back, her body was so badly bruised, I took her upstairs and cared for her physical wounds. She's such a strong woman, no one else could endure so much and still be able to function normally. I can't let it continue! We need to do something! She can't take this much longer... I wonder what Hauptmann Wiesler thinks of Mutti?! He seems nice - for a Stasi officer! He might be able to stop it... he might be able to stop those Russians from continually raping her but how to get to him?

Starling's face paled slightly when she read the entry. No wonder she never trusted the Russians... no wonder she hated them as she did. They raped her mother!

She looked over to Hannibal who was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, his head tilted back so it rested lightly on the red leather backing of the seat, his fedora was inclined downwards so that it hid his eyes and forehead. She smiled softly before turning back to the black leather journal, picking a random section to read.

We set up camp in Lithuania today, an officer in the Lithuanian cavalry lent me his horse and as I rode past on horseback I noted an old 15th century castle stood north-easterly of our position, I believe it was used as an orphanage by the Russians after the war and - from what the Oberführer told me - a base of operations by the Nazis during the second world war. I've decided to check it out today; the historian in me taking over.

Well, my suspicions were confirmed, the castle was completely ransacked and desecrated. Fucking Russians never know a good thing when they see it! I ride my horse around to the old portcullis, my eyes scanning the entire castle noting the old medieval defences as I approached. I hopped down off the horse, gently stroking its black mane before setting off on foot. I am inside the main courtyard. There's an old stone fountain in the centre, it is now overgrown with ivy and the water that was once inside it has now dried up leaving it empty. I walk up to the great oak doors that lead into what would have been the main foyer. The house screamed its story of loss and war as I explored, the rooms were burnt and paint chipped away in some places, revealing the beautiful masonry beneath.. In front of me there is a grand staircase, leading up to the second floor of the castle. I decide to start up there first. I feel a strange presence inside this house, like something is watching my every move. Maybe it's the ghosts of the past.

The old wooden floorboards creak under my weight and I walk towards the first room I see. It turns out to be an old library; this seems to be the second floor of it. I can see the first floor below me. There must be more than 3000 books here; most of them look first editions. I let my hand skim over the spines of the books and take a good look around the room. It is circular with the second and third floor consisting of an almost balcony like structure. I look down onto the first floor. There is an old leather armchair with a small stack of books next to it, a few are still open. That's strange… it's like someone's still living here but no one would want to live here now. I can smell more than feel the presence behind me and I prepare my body for this snake's first strike. They grab me from behind, gripping my injured right arm and throwing me into a bookcase, a few of the books fall to the floor beside me. My attacker lifts up my chin, exposing my throat.

His voice is cold next to my ear, "Who are you? What are you doing in this place?"

I look up into his eyes, my cold blue meeting his: dangerous; mysterious; frightening; maroon - darker than blood. Another predator!

"My name is Major Hollie Gladwin, if you wouldn't mind, sir, I should ask you the same question… What are you doing in this place?"

He looks into my eyes and sees no fear. He feels my body sigh in defeat and loosens his grip. My eyes smile. Righty-ho, it's time to get my own back. My body immediately tenses and before he realizes that my defeat was all an act, I pounce. I use his own weight against him, my foot having positioned itself in the perfect place to trip him up. I force him to lose his balance then take my chances by tackling him to the floor. We tumble through the dust and splinters, both battling for control. I end up on top of him, straddling his waist and quickly running my hands over his sleeves; checking for a weapon. I smile as I feel a small curved object and I release it and feel its weight and power in my hands, flipping the curved blade open and admiring the way it glimmers in the morning light.

I pocket it and look down at this man. He smells of blood and smoke, his eyes are only just returning to their original maroon; you can see the darkness receding within, the adrenalin from a fight is starting to seep away. I know the feeling all too well, the feeling of taking a life; the strange excitement and thrill. Who have you been fighting recently, hmm?

"Now, I'll ask you, sir. What is your name? What right do you have to be here?"

He looks me dead in the eyes, not revealing anything; he keeps his mouth shut tight and his eyes blocked from emotion. I give half a smile.

"If you don't tell me, I'm just going to have to phone the authorities and I don't think that would be fun for you and definitely not much fun for me. Let's make a deal, hmm? You tell me your name and why you're here. I'll answer any questions you have of me, does that seem fair?"

He mumbles something in Lithuanian. I automatically become distracted; running through the corridors of my mind trying to access the Lithuanian that I know. He uses it to his advantage, using his superior strength and weight, he rolled us over again. I kick off the floor and the momentum sends us slamming into the bookcase. We both scramble to our feet. I automatically reach for my Walther, flipping it into my hand and pulling the hammer back, training it on his heart. My face is as deadpan as his own; we know this is not a moment for emotion and thought - simply instinct. He keeps eye contact the entire time and I find myself starting to get lost in those eyes. They seem to reflect my own soul, like looking into a deep well.

He closes the distance between us in seconds, twisting my right arm behind my back - forcing me to drop the gun - and slamming me into the cold stone wall. I wince and let out a muffled grunt. Shouldn't have done this! You're going to get yourself fucking killed at this rate, woman. First Nikolai, now this guy, you just can't help but fall for these dangerous guys can you? He presses his body against mine and I close my eyes to block out the visions of Him. His hand slips inside my tunic and he takes out the harpy, flicking it open in front of me, letting it rest on my jugular. He leans in, his breath warm on my ear.

"Now, can I trust you to stop attacking me, Major?"

The knife travels down to the thin skin covering my collarbone; he skims it across the surface.

I feel something within me snap. My eyes flash open and I push against him, his knife catching my skin slightly but the pain is nothing to the anger I feel. I push him into the wooden railing.

I hiss at him in Russian and push him further over the edge. He can see that I'm not in this world… that I am trapped inside a memory. He raises the knife into my line of vision, slowly closing it and putting it back inside his pocket. It's a simple gesture of trust. Another flash in my eyes. My chest heaves as I take a shuddering breath. A tear runs down my face and my grip loosens. He slowly moves away from my grasp as I begin to slide down onto the timeworn floor.

He stands above me for a moment, taking a sip of my pain and finding it exquisite but something else hits him when he sees my sleeve move an inch, revealing the patterned scar underneath. He kneels down to me and looks at me for a second before taking hold of my chin and looking into my eyes.

"Was ist deine geschichte, kleiner Major?"

The train pulled into Potsdamer Platz train station at precisely 1:35pm. The couple departed and Clarice linked her arm with Lecter's, making sure to stay with him at all times.

"Herr Doktor, Detektiv Starling, Thank you for coming." Wolf shook Lecter's hand and smiled sadly at Clarice before taking one of the bags and leading the pair towards his car. The drive from Potsdamer Platz to Gladwin's house wasn't too long but to Starling it was awkward, long and tedious. Wolf pulled up to the house and looked back at the couple from the driver's seat.

"The funeral is being held at the Berlin cathedral tomorrow at noon. The body will be on display but... but it will have a death mask, it was so badly mutilated that we can barely recognize her. The only way we knew it was her was the clothing and her blood." He frowned.

"Her Royce is back in the garage, it is yours now. Take it before the solicitor does. I take it you will make your own way there?" Hannibal nodded.

"Then I will see you tomorrow, Herr Doktor." Hannibal and Clarice said goodbye before exiting and grabbing their bags from the car.

They walked up the stone steps, unlocked the door and, finally, were alone in the house of their dead friend.

The house had died. Starling felt the chill of death that ran through the corridors and rooms of the home, it was a home that had felt too much sorrow and pain. No matter how many lights she turned on or how many curtains she opened the home stayed dark and dreary, mourning the loss of it's last inhabitant.

Clarice Starling climbed the staircase, Gabriel Yared's Die sonate vom Guten Menschen floated out from the living room, it's melancholic notes filling the house. She walked slowly down the hallway, stopping at the last door, her hand hovered over the brass doorknob. Clarice hesitantly pushed it open.

The room was dark. A large mahogany king-sized bed sat in the centre of the room, matching bedside tables flanked it. Starling shuffled into the room a little more, realizing she had entered Gladwin's bedroom - What WAS Gladwin's bedroom, you mean, girl! The chocolate coloured curtains were drawn closed and Clarice noticed several vials that sat on a chest of drawers next to the window. She walked over to them and inspected the labels. Two bottles were Morphine prescribed to Doctor Hollie Gladwin, another was a bottle of methadone also prescribed to Gladwin, next to them was a hypodermic syringe. Clarice frowned before continuing to look around the room. The right side bedside table - which was furthest away from the door - held a small clock, a pager, some unmarked foil pill packets and an A5 black notebook. She opened it, there was a small handwritten inscription in the corner of the first page.

"Für meine Abhangigkeit, Schönes Jubiläum. Ich hoffe für viele mehr Glücklich jahren mit sie, mein liebe. Ewig dein, Hans"

Starling flipped through it, flashes of colour raced before her. She stopped at a random page and admired the beautiful drawing on the page. A profile of Gladwin was drawn over a watercolour painting of Hamburg. Gently she placed the book back in its spot before glancing over to the other bedside table. It looked as if it had been untouched for years. There was a clock, some credentials, a SIG P220 pistol and a leather bound copy of Kleiner Mann, Was nun? Clarice picked up the credentials: Polizeidirektor Hans Reinhardt... So this is her husband. He was a police officer! Did she try to live the life that was taken away from him? Starling shook her head free from the thoughts and quickly exited the room.

As she began to walk down the hallway once more her gaze concentrated on the ceiling. Clarice finally noticed the concealed door.

"…I just ask one thing of you…I need you not to enter the attic." Gladwin's words echoed through her mind as she grabbed a chair from the nearest room. Standing on it she reached for the silver handle on the small door, she could not reach. Her face contorted angrily as she attempted to grab it once more and failed. A deep chuckled scared her and she fell backwards off the chair.

"Clarice, darling, what are you doing?" Starling jumped off the floor, pulling her jeans up as she did so, and glared at him.

"I was trying to get into the attic." He smiled gently at her, moving the chair back into the room.

"I may as well protect this chair before you cause it any more harm in your quest for answers." He closed the door to the spare room before turning his attention back to Clarice.

"Now, as for you predicament of procuring a way into the attic."

He walked swiftly over to a bookshelf that was fitted into the wall, sliding his hand over the dark wood. Hannibal's large hand stroked down the edge of the bookshelf, stopping about midway down his index finger hit something and he pulled the bookshelf away from the wall, revealing a set of stairs. Starling gaped in awe before walking towards it, Lecter chuckled again.

"Clarice, enjoy your hunt." He coaxed her up the stairs.

"Don't you wanna come?"

"No, my dear, I have been up there many a time but maybe later if you still wish me too." Clarice nodded before continuing up the hidden staircase.

The attic was a large, refurbished room. A small sofa had been inserted into the corner along with an old marble coffee table. On the other side of the room to Clarice stood an old desk, some filing cabinets and a 1930s metal medical cabinet. She walked over to the marble table, there were a few papers scattered across it and - to Starling's surprise - she found a late 19th century, Japanese style opium pipe and a small case of opium tobacco. She frowned before walking over to the desk, there wasn't much to find, only more loose papers and a British Warrant card. Flipping it open she found out it belonged to a Detective Chief Inspector John Raymond Gladwin. Must be her father. Clarice tried the filing cabinets but only one opened, inside was a large file. She heaved it out and noticed a small note on top.

Clarice, obviously you've ignored my words to you, hmm? I may have been killed but that doesn't mean I won't be able to scold you in the afterlife!

She imagined this is where Gladwin would give one of those lopsided half smirks.

Hope you find your answers in here, Starling. I must tell you, anything you discover in here cannot be spoken of to anyone except Hannibal, yourself or Wolfgang! Viel Glück. HG.

A shudder went down Starling's back and she slipped the note off the thick dossier before beginning to read it.

Ich hatt einen Kameraden played through the church as the Wachbataillon did a final check of their instruments. Outside the flag flew at half-mast and the wind picked up as the coffin was brought through the grounds, escorted by six Bundeswehr officers, a Bundeswehr flag was draped over it, its edges flicking up ever so slightly as the wind helped it on its way to the church. The air was damp, a lone Berliner sat on a bench - his face tilted to the rain. He knew the smell of it, the taste of it. It was Baltic rain, from the north, cold and sea-scented, tangy with salt. For a moment he was taken back sixteen years, in the turret of a Panzer tank, slipping out of Lithuania, lights doused, in the darkness.

He turned his face back to watch as members of the Wachbataillon carried the mahogany casket, their faces solemn beneath the shadow of their green berets. The Berliner stood, straightening his uniform and donning his visor cap. The only colour that broke through the grey was the red piping along his shoulder boards and cap. He muttered to himself as he began to walk down the stone pathway between the trees, his boots crunching on the snow.

"Herr Oberstleutnant." He looked up at the lieutenant who saluted him.

"Ja? Was willst du?" He snapped.

"The funeral does not start until 12.00, sir. I cannot allow you entry. Oberstleutnant March, you should get out of the rain, sir."

March turned on his heels, ignoring the protests of the lieutenant, and walked in the opposite direction, needing to clear his mind. He lent against the iron railings and looked down into the Spree, watching as the rain was fired into it in small pellets, from his inside pocket he procured a small note and his frown deepened, he finally decided to open it.

"Liebe Xavier, if you are reading this then I am dead - or presumed to be so... Don't mourn me; we had a good long run, old friend. Eventually, though, a time comes when we must stop running and face the music. There were times when death swept across me and I thought that I was left to drown but you were always there to pull me to safety, even when I was too proud to admit I needed your help. I guess, Zavi, that what I'm trying to say is thank you. Thank you for everything.

I want you to know that, as your superior officer, I've always been proud of you. I also want you to know that, as a person... as a woman, I have always loved you. I always will. Therefore, my love, I ask one thing of you and one thing only: find a woman who will love you as you loved me and enjoy life. Do not mourn me. Do not seek those who have killed me. Do love life. Do live as I have not. Ich liebe dich, mein liebe.

Immer dein, Hollie."

The bullets of water hit against the plastic of his peaked cap and dripped off onto his nose before mixing with the tears that fell freely from his eyes. He breathed deeply, calming himself before looking at his watch. Time to pick up the American and the doctor. He frowned. An Oberstleutnant of the Heer is being told to chauffer an American and der Doktor. Rank means nothing anymore! March sighed before walking back to his Volkswagen, ready to pick up his colonel's friends for one final goodbye.