Author's Note: Finally Chapter Ten has been revised, rewritten (countless times I assure you), and is ready to be posted! I hope it is up to everyone's expectations. Thank you to all my readers and reviewers! I love you guys! Just one more small thing, there is some implied adult content at the end of the story. Just wanted to let you readers know incase you get offended by such innuendos. Enjoy!

Chapter Ten: At The Ritz

Starling woke up at eleven-thirty that morning. She was pretty confident they'd catch Talivaldis this time. She took a shower and heard room service come in. When she got out, she saw her bed made and her meager breakfast. She was beginning to enjoy the supposedly "gourmet" hot chocolate when an agent from Scotland Yard called her.

"We lost him. We sent several officers into the area you specified and one of them found the hotel he was staying in on Black Pond Road. No trace of the Crusader though. All his stuff is gone."

She thanked the officer for letting her know and hung up. Looking into the empty plastic mug, she could feel anger surface into her mind. With all her might, she threw the cup at the wall. She heard it crack and dent it. She didn't care. She was so angry that Talivaldis escaped again. This was the second time she saw him walk away when she was so close to catching him. She needed to vent. She pulled on a black leather jacket and walked right out of her room. She had her badge in her pocket and one of her .45s strapped to her ankle. Her cell phone was clipped to her waist. Instead of taking the tube, she walked around London. She thought of where the Crusader was going next. Where was he this very moment? Somewhere up north like in Scotland or did he take the chunnel to France? How was he traveling? For all she knew, he could be in Cambodia! Pearsall called her around three to tell her to get back to the bureau. There was nothing much for her to do now. She was in the much nicer, classier side of London now. She saw men in business suits pass her by while glancing back. Some of the women wore suits and others in formal dresses. On the corner of the street she was on, she saw the Ritz. She knew he was staying there; his taste for fine living wouldn't let him pick elsewhere. The doorman tried to stop her from coming in.

"Excuse me, madame, but we do have a dress code!"

She flashed her badge and the temporary one Scotland Yard had given her, and the man shut up and let her in. There was a short, rather haughty woman at the front desk. She took in Clarice's clothes and grimaced. Again Clarice flashed her badges to get a little respect from these people.

"How may I be of assistance, officer?" she asked in a very high pitched voice.

"I need to know if a Dr. Charles is staying here in the hotel."

"Dr. Charles? Of course. I hope he's not in any kind of trouble..."

"No ma'am. I just need to speak with him."

"Sixth floor. Room 624."

"Thank you."

She took the elevator to the sixth floor. She found room 624 fairly quickly and knocked. Dr. Lecter opened the door. Starling could see he was shocked for a moment but he masked it well.

"Special Agent Starling, what a surprise."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Charles. I should have called but you left me with no means to reach you."

"I'd forgotten about that. Please forgive me. Why don't you come in."

"Thank you."

She stepped into the room. It didn't surprise her that he was staying in probably one of the best suites in the hotel. She could see that the suite had three other rooms in it including its own kitchen.

"Please sit down, Clarice. Would you like anything to drink? Some water or wine perhaps?"

"Water only, Hannibal. Thank you."

After handing her a glass of water, Dr. Lecter settled himself down on a brown leather winged back chair. Clarice sat down in front of him on the matching sofa. He observed that she was angry about something and looked like she wanted to pull out that .45 she had hidden on her ankle and shoot something. He hoped she wouldn't. Her fingers twitched as if they longed to be around someone's neck. Her left had gripped the glass cup so hard he thought it might shatter if she applied anymore pressure.

"Now tell me, Clarice. What's bothering you?"

She downed the water not realizing how thirsty she was. For a moment she looked down at the glass and set in safely on the ottoman. She didn't want to break it.

"Talivaldis left. I have no clue where he is now."

Her hands formed fists and unclenched again. Dr. Lecter nodded. He had anticipated this. They stayed silent for a couple of minutes.

"What do you think, Doctor?" she asked quietly.

During those silent moments, the anger slowly dripped out of her body only to be replaced by the feeling of utter hopelessness. She hated the feeling. She felt she hadn't down her job right, hadn't done the right thing, and hadn't made the right choices. She looked into Dr. Lecter's maroon eyes. He studied her face for a moment and then took a deep breath.

"He knows your after him. I take it he is traveling back to familiar territory. His last name is Latvian but he can also be going to Lithuania or Russia."

"How can you be sure? He could've went to Asia or South America. He could be anywhere."

"Where would you go, Special Agent Starling, if you knew you wouldn't be followed right away?"

"I see your point," she admitted. "If he still has friends and/or family they won't know what he's done. They'd welcome him back."

Dr. Lecter nodded.

"When do you go back to the bureau?" he asked.

"I'm supposed to be on a flight tomorrow. I need to call Pearsall though and let him where we think the Crusader is. He has to let me track the bastard down."

Dr. Lecter could see the fire in her eyes ignite once again. She had that glint of determination and renewed hope. Her face and skin radiated it. She looked down at her hands and her face sobered a little.

"Will you follow me there?"

"Only if you want me to."

"I do."

He nodded. She made eye contact again. A blush traveled to her face, but she did not turn away.

"Will you care to join me to dinner?" he asked.

"Yes. But if you'll excuse me for a moment, Hannibal. I need to make a phone call."

Clarice got up and walked into the foyer. She called Pearsall and told him her theories.

"I need to see if I could book you a flight. I'll get back to you tomorrow, Starling."

He hung up. She clipped her phone back onto her belt and walked into the living room. Dr. Lecter wasn't there. Clarice sat back down and waited. She was there by herself for five minutes. Someone knocked on the door. Dr. Lecter appeared dressed in a black suit with white tie. He opened the door, thanked someone for something, and closed it. Another minute went by before he came back.

"I had one of the staff bring something more appropriate for you to wear. It's in the bathroom. I hope you like it."

"Your too much, Hannibal. Thank you."

"My pleasure."

Clarice walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. A midnight blue dress hung on it. Matching high heels were next to the sink. The dress, of course, fit her perfectly. It was a halter dress that fell down to her ankles. There was a slit on the left side that ran up to her knee. She looked at herself in the mirror and vaguely recognized herself. 'You can't do this, Starling.' She ignored the voice. Her hair was down already and she had applied very neutral makeup in the morning. There was nothing else to do with her appearance. She slipped on the high heels, looked at the woman now staring back at her in the mirror, and then walked back to the living room.

"I hope you don't mind if I left my other clothes folded in there."

Dr. Lecter walked into the foyer. His breath caught in his throat. Both were able to hear him take his next breath.

"Of course not," he said softly.

The hotel restaurant was beautiful and looked very expensive. Clarice grew self-conscious as several of the men and women there turned in their seats to stare at her. She held her head a little higher. The waiter led them to a table and went to get a bottle of wine Dr. Lecter ordered. The middle of the room had been cleared of tables and some couples danced to the music being played by a small troupe.

"So, Hannibal, you haven't told me how you spent this last year away from Chesapeake."

They held the conversation until the waiter arrived with the wine and their food. While they ate, Dr. Lecter told her of the sites and scenes he saw while traveling. He spent a great deal of time in Eastern Europe and South America. Clarice spoke about the bureau and her frustration with it and the current administration. The restaurant, as the evening grew long, became more crowded. There were no more tables to be seated at and the make-shift dance floor had a myriad amount of people on it. Dr. Lecter stood up and offered his hand to her.

"Will you do me the honor of a dance?"

She nodded and took his hand. His skin was soft against hers. He held her hand as if it were made of fragile china. The music changed to a very soft and slow song. His right hand was placed at her waist and his left was still holding her right. She gently placed her left hand onto his shoulder. In high heels, she and Dr. Lecter were the same height. They swayed in time to the music. Clarice stepped closer to him and rested her cheek against his. 'The man holding you is a convicted murderer,' the voice in her mind grated at her, 'and a cannibal to top it off!' She closed her eyes and willed the voice to go away. It was funny how when it came to Dr. Lecter, her conscience sounded like Jack Crawford. After they were done, Dr. Lecter paid for the bill and they set off towards his room.

Clarice didn't go back to the Novotel.