Author's Note: First off, I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed especially MandaPanda2. That was a lovely review. I really appreciate it. Most people when they talk to me think I'm in my late twenties. I even got invited to happy hour one time too! The Good Doctor is back in this chapter!

Chapter Seven: London

Clarice and several other agents went to the apartment of Michael Talivaldis, the Crusader. In her back pocket, Clarice had the arrest warrant. After knocking a couple of times on the door, they broke it down and stormed in. No one was there. Everyone after securing the apartment off looked around it in stupefaction. The apartment was set up as a church. There was even an altar taking up a whole wall. A giant crucifix hung right above it. Candles lined the floor and shelves. The apartment smelled strongly of incense. In the only bedroom, they found arrows, rope, and pipes sharpened at the end hidden under the bed. In one of the drawers they found rolls of white ribbon. The room was filled with pictures of Christ and the Blessed Mother.

"This guy is one hell of a nut job," one of the agents muttered.

They sealed the apartment off. Clarice had a very grave feeling that the Crusader had taken off. Where? She couldn't answer. Back at the bureau she sent a fax containing his picture to all the airports and border patrols. British Airways contacted her three days later and said a man resembling the picture took a flight to Heathrow Airport about a week ago. The media found out about it and started airing the story nonstop. There were several camera crews waiting outside the building already. Starling contacted the British authorities and Scotland Yard, putting them on high alert. Pearsall sent her a memo telling her to get to London fast. A plane ticket was already inside.

Starling was in London about seven hours later. The F.B.I. had booked a hotel room for her at the Novotel in Hammersmith. The Hammersmith tube station was not even a block from it. The British authorities briefed her on their recent activities in regard to catching the Crusader. They only really knew one thing, he was still in London.

After an exhausting day following leads to nowhere, Clarice walked back to the hotel. She was walking down the hall to her room thinking about staying in and eating at the hotel restaurant when she saw an envelope taped to her door. She recognized the handwriting her name was in immediately. In her room, she opened it and found only a restaurant business card.

Bistro Benito's

Located on the corner of Earl's Court and Cromwell Road.

The Best Italian Food you'll ever taste!

Directions: Get off at the Earl's Court tube station and walk towards Cromwell Road. You can't miss us!

She freshened up and walked out her room again.

Earl's Court station was a very small one. Clarice walked up the stairs and out onto the street. She turned left and started her way down Earl's Court. The night air chilled her face. The area looked a bit dodgy but there were still plenty of people around this time of night. It was only a five minute walk to Benito's. It was a small restaurant but the seating was arranged in such a way to make it spacious. A short older man came to greet her when she stepped inside.

"Hello, Miss, your name?"

"She's with me," said a metallic voice behind her.

She turned and saw Dr. Lecter standing in a navy blue suit and tie. He touched her elbow lightly to move her towards the back of the restaurant which happened to be behind the kitchens.

"Dr. Charles, its so nice to see you here again. It's been what? Fifteen years since your last visit, no?"

"Yes, almost fifteen years. I must apologize for the absence. I can honestly say it was beyond my control."

Dr. Lecter smiled at the man, his small white teeth gleaming in the dim light. He waited till Clarice sat down and took a seat himself. Neither talked until the waiter came. He was a young man, probably in his late twenties. Clarice saw that his name was Martin from his name tag.

"What can I get for you two tonight?" he asked in a strong Italian accent.

"Chicken Marsala, for me, please," answered Clarice.

"Hmm..I'll have the penne con gamberi e carciofi with a glass of Barolo Riserva."

"Very good, sir. I'll be back in a moment with your order."

The waiter left them. Clarice noticed they were alone in the room. All the other tables were set but were presently empty. She turned her gaze back to Dr. Lecter and saw him watching her.

"So your Crusader left the land of the free and is now on his mission here. How do you feel about that, Clarice?"

She took a moment to answer him.

"Frustrated. Churlish that due to a genetic disorder we could have had him in prison by now."

Dr. Lecter could see the fire in her eyes. He could see the determination to catch the Crusader set in every line in her young face. The dim light cast the right shadows on her face. That was why he sat in the back instead of the well-lit front.

"How do you plan on tracking him down? He could be anywhere in this immense city..."

Dr. Lecter let that sentence hang subtlety in the air.

Starling knew that look that he had. It was the look he had when she asked him who Buffalo Bill was. That look that he knew something very important but was not going to share it with her.

"You know where he is, don't you?" she asked though she already knew the answer.

"I might."

"Quid pro quo, Doctor."

Dr. Lecter looked surprised for a moment but masked it well. He tilted his head slightly to the left as if to get a better look at her. The tables had been turned.

"Go."

"Is he haunting the clubs here?" she asked.

"In his eyes, his crusade is far from done, Agent Starling."

She took that as a yes.

"Last time you couldn't answer me this question but since you've written that your ready to talk, I expect an answer this time. Why all the running?"

They were interrupted by the arrival of their food. Martin bowed after he had set everything down and walked into the kitchen. Dr. Lecter swirled the wine in the glass, inhaled its scent, and took a sip gingerly. He closed his eyes for a second, savoring the flavor.

"You've not answered, Clarice."

She took a deep breath, steadying herself before she responded.

"I don't want to have any...attachments. Its easier to deal with people that way. You were right when you said that I despise the F.B.I. I do. But it is the only stable and reliable thing in my life. I distance myself so I can be beyond fate's cruel grasp."

"My, Special Agent Starling, that was almost poetic."

She almost was in half a mind to walk out of the restaurant for that taunt, but she did not see him smirk or sneer at her. That made her stay in her seat. They ate in silence until both had finished their food. Clarice took out her purse to pay for her meal, but Dr. Lecter would not hear of it.

"Did you expect me to make you pay for the meal that I invited you to? I sincerely hope not."

The older man that had greeted them at the door bowed them out of the restaurant. It was almost eleven o'clock at night, and the air was substantially colder. The bustling crowds that had been roaming Earl's Court dwindled now to only a couple of people.

"Tell me where Talivaldis is, Hannibal."

"I'll take you there."

She thought about it for a second before she acquiesced. He offered her his arm which she took hesitantly. Both walked quietly back to the tube.

Author's Note Again: The restaurant that I described is in fact a real restaurant on the corner of Earl's Court and Cromwell Road and Bistro Benito's is its real name. They have the best Italian food I have ever tasted! I was actually in London for a week in March (I was in England for a total of eleven days having spent the first four days in Stratford-upon-Avon). I stayed at the Novotel in Hammersmith and could picture the F.B.I. booking Starling a room there. If my British readers find any inconsistencies with my descriptions, please tell me so that I can correct them. I hope to return to your lovely country as soon as I can. I loved it there.