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Hannibal waited patiently in the pantry closet while Bella launched herself upstairs to get the walkman. Once she came back down, the aromas of his cooking finally called to her empty stomach. A rich broth with chicken, homemade noodles, and vegetables sat simmering on the stovetop. He had nearly finished it when he heard Bella's breathing change. The soft sigh that emitted from her forced him into the pantry to watch her through the crack between the door and doorframe.

The sleep had done her good. She looked much better from when he first arrived, but he could tell her temperature was off. She hugged herself even in her sweatshirt and sweatpants over the heat of the stove. As she took the ladle into her hand and scooped a helping into one of the two bowls he set out, he longed to touch her, hold her, in any capacity. He ran through the foyer and hallways of his memory palace before reaching the couch were she slept cuddled into his side, his hand stroking her hair. He could feel her body heat on the right side of his body as her breath warmed and cooled his chest where her head lay. One of her hands over his heart thumbing against her palm as he felt her pulse drum in her fingertips.

His memory was interrupted when her bowl clinked against the countertop. She set it down by the empty bowl before filling it as well. A smile tugged at the end of her lips. He had been caught. With the second bowl filled, she rested it on the island corner closest to the pantry.

He was just about to push out of the closet when the doorbell rang. His surprise was mirrored on Bella's face as she left the safety of the kitchen to check the front door. When she was around the corner to the front hallway, he took his chance to get closer.


Bella saw the outline of the person on the other side, the physical features, and sighed as she opened the door only halfway, blocking the view into the townhouse. "Coach Pellagrim, what are you doing here?"

"Well, I heard your mother called you in sick for today and became worried. I don't need the star of my ballet dropping out two days before the performance." Pellagrim smiled at her, but there was an edge as well. Almost a desperation. "You are still performing, right?"

"I'm still planning on it." Bella nodded before glancing at the bowl in his hand. It looked like a store boughten beef stew that he had put in a tupperware container. "You could've just called me. I have my cell phone with me."

Pellagrim opened and closed his mouth, caught off guard by her words. "I decided to bring you soup to help you feel better."

Bella forced a polite smile. "That's very thoughtful, but my stomach is very sensitive right now. I've barely eaten all day."

"Well, then you really should eat this. I could heat it up for you if you'd like." Pellagrim insisted, stepping closer to the door. "If you're tired, you should sleep. I don't want you to feel worse than you already do."

Bella blocked his attempt at entry. "Uh, my dad is actually here taking care of me."

Pellagrim smiled. "Your father? Are you lying to me, Bella? You told me for years that you didn't know who your dad was. Why are you lying to me? I think I have been very forthcoming with you. I don't appreciate being lied to."

"You have been very forward with me." Bella agreed. "I only recently met him. Now, I am very tired. If you could please leave, I would appreciate that. If you don't go, I will call the principal and tell her about everything, including this encounter that I can prove with the security cameras my mom has around the house and outside. One rests just above your head and another in the doorbell itself."

Pellagrim stepped back baffled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Bella rolled her eyes. "Even your wife knows about your perversions. I won't be coming to rehearsal tomorrow, but I will perform Friday night. It will be my last for the year." Without waiting for a reply or taking the soup, Bella closed and locked the door before falling back against it tiredly. Her eyes drifted shut as a breath escaped between her teeth.

"I don't think I could've done better myself. Then again, I would've invited him in for dinner."

Bella smiled and opened her eyes to see Hannibal standing at the end of the small hallway. His harpy was ready in his hand as he stashed it back away. She shuffled over to him and hugged him tightly, resting her head against his chest. "Hi Daddy."

Hannibal kissed the top of her head, the brown hair there tickling his nose, as a warmth filled his chest. "Hello Bellona."


The flash of evidence cameras was constant. The first team to arrive called for another to help with bagging evidence. The white latex gloves in the room a stark contrast to the dark brown and black suits of her fellow co-workers. With each document and paper lifted from the floor, the apartment darkened due to the hardwood floors. Although beautiful, it only took away from the crime the happened here, but she stayed out of the way since Will Graham's presence in Washington was because of the Beer Can Killer case. No longer her case to work.

"We're going to test the blood, but we're pretty sure it's Will's. He's been a hermit since Hannibal and the Red Dragon fiasco. Since the break-in and attack at his house, his wife said he rarely goes out unless it's to the beach in their backyard." Delia explained, standing next to Clarice outside the apartment. "He was a great agent. It's a shame."

Talking as if he was already dead. As if the blood had already been confirmed to be his.

The thought of Delia's reaction at her future disappearance crossed her mind.

Clarice stepped around Delia to the stairs. "Call me if you guys need anything else."

"Clarice!" Delia frowned. She waited until her friend turned around halfway down the stairs. "I know you think I'm being unfair here, but this only questions Lecter's involvement more. He was fixated on Will before he was you. You may think that you know him better because of your interviews, and you probably do, but you don't have a special claim on him that states you're the only one who can investigate him."

The tip of her tongue ran along the top row of teeth, feeling the ridges that certainly liked to mark the doctor as her own. The love bite he gave her tingled on the left side of her neck, just above her shoulder. "Are you done?"

Ardelia gaped and laughed despite her anger. "I feel like I don't even know you anymore. Maybe I haven't known you for years. Maybe Bella really is Hannibal's Little Cannibal, because you have lost your damn mind. Lecter probably fucked you senseless over Krendler's body. Bella certainly has a lot of his tastes and interests. If she really is his, and I hope for your sake she isn't, that coward that stabbed you should've done a better job aiming."

Clarice felt that pain deep, and she saw the regret wash over Delia's face as soon as the words left her mouth. The only sign of the betrayal on Clarice was the gathering of moisture in her eyes. After all, Delia had witnessed the stabbing, saw the fear on Clarice's face as she feared for her unborn child's life, her own life. She had been there when the infection nearly killed both of them. She knew all too well the guilt that Clarice carried with the incident, and she used a piece of Clarice's personal life to hurt her. A piece of her life that only Delia, medical professionals, and a couple officers knew about.

She just spat it down a staircase at her best friend while their colleagues processed a crime scene only a few yards away.

Delia back-pedaled fast. "Clarice-"

A hand lifted, palm facing out. With her other hand, sunglasses were removed from the neckline of her blouse and slid onto her nose, hiding her eyes behind the black shades. "Don't. Just don't say anything else. Better aiming? Pretty sure you just hit his mark for him."

"It was a mistake." Delia tried to explain.

"You just told me, and everyone else here, that my kid should be dead!" Clarice yelled back at her. "The same girl who you used to be proud to call your niece. The little girl who would watch old westerns with you. The little girl who wrote about you for a paper about a person they admired. The little girl who you loved, that I love more than anything else in this world."

Delia shook her head, but Clarice continued. "I'll make it really easy for you. You think that animal should've aimed better and killed me and Bella? It's done. We're both dead to you now. Dracula's Bride and Hannibal's Little Cannibal. Thank you for being as clever as the Tattler."

Before another word could be said by either party, Clarice turned back around and continued down the stairs, ignoring the sideways glances from agents coming up or going down the stairs with evidence bags. The only new information they had learned from the argument was about her stabbing. She had heard all of them say one of the two nicknames at least once in her time at the Bureau, and she was sure those rumors were going to swirl again from this encounter.

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