A/N: Thank you to all of those who are supporting and reviewing this story. I'm happy all of you are enjoying it!

Disclaimer: Look at the Prologue for it.

Chapter 5: Knights of the Round Table

The warm abyss cradled her body as she free fell into oblivion. Was she asleep? Hell if she knew. It'd been so long, she couldn't tell.

Could someone be self-aware of being asleep? What's that thing called? Lucid dreaming, right?

No way I'm that lucky.

Lady Luck would never stoop so low as to grace me with her presence.

"—gonna wake her up. Do you realize how little sleep she's been getting?"

Well that's fucking ironic.

Clarice's current thought process was at an all-time low. Her brain was a muddled mess as she slowly drifted into full consciousness. Regardless, she worked to pinpoint the voice.

It was masculine. Very familiar. Subtly Puerto Rican from his mother if one listened hard enough. The Boston flare from his father only came out when he was frustrated like he was now. A small smile came to her lips.

Charles.

Ah, yes. That county officer, Charles Porter.

Are you attempting to flush out all that reminds you of me? Perhaps in a feeble effort to acquire a new start?

The peaceful, gradual float to consciousness quickly changed to an abrupt one as Lecter's voice invaded her mind. It was like gulping down five shots of espresso all at once. The smile disappeared. Clarice managed to keep her eyes shut as she scrambled to censor herself. Just because Charles knew everything involving Lecter didn't mean he needed to know that the doctor's voice continued to linger in her thoughts. He loved her despite everything else. No need to rock the boat. None at all.

An annoyed feminine sigh interrupted her thought process. Ardelia. What other woman wanted anything to do with her? "Yeah, of course I do. What do you think we talk about? Rainbows, unicorns, periods, and serial killer stalkers?" Classic Ardelia. Always with the heavy amounts of sarcasm.

Eh. Might as well relax and enjoy the show.

"Well, you two probably talk about the same things she and I do." There was a moment of silence as Charles seemed to realize how stupid his initial question was. "Shut up."

"You did that all on your own, hun." There was a distinct sound. It was the unmistakable suction of the fridge opening. "But come on. You have to at least admit they're perfect for each other." Bottles of various things clinked as her best friend started rummaging around. "Want anything?"

"Um, water, please. Thanks." The plastic crunched in his hand as he opened the bottle. "And I never said they weren't. I just think that if they were to get into a relationship —a real relationship— everything we love about them would be destroyed." Ardelia scoffed at his words. "No, seriously. Think about it. It would ruin everything. Happens all the time in slow burns."

"Yeah yeah yeah. We've talked about this before." Whatever Ardelia had in her hand made a sloshing sound suggesting she was gesturing.

Charles gasped sarcastically. "Don't tell me you've actually been paying attention when I speak. If that's the case, I'm gonna have to start raising my conversational expectations in regards to you. Not that that's saying much."

"Shut up."

"Nah." He paused, possibly to drink his water. "Slow burns are a fun ride but never end well. Why? Because there are always four things that happen in slow burns. One. The couple becomes unbearable once they're together causing everyone to hate it."

An exasperated groan. Both Clarice and Ardelia had heard his spiel on slow burns several times. She could feel her best friend's pain. "Two. It stops being a slow burn because the two characters just fuck abruptly causing everyone to hate it."

"Three. After the romance commences, everything falls apart because the slow burn was the only interesting thing going on which no one realized until that aspect was gone causing everyone to hate it.

"Four. The slow burn is never resolved causing everyone to lose their shit and hate it. And—And," she emphasized when Charles tried to interrupt her. "Five. Slow burn happens, romance blooms, everything going on around the slow burn was and continued to be interesting. Everyone is happy. The end."

A loud snort came from Charles. "No. I reject five."

"Because you're in denial that I'm right?"

"Because five does not happen, manita."

"Sure it does."

"Really? Name one time it happened. Just one."

Irritated and stubborn silence. "They could be the exception."

"Oh, I'm sure," he retorted mockingly before obnoxiously crackling the plastic in his hand.

Ardelia made a small humph. "Maybe they'll live happily ever after. You don't know."

"Yeah. Sure I don't. Just keep me away from your impossible fantasies."

A loud, passionate smack on the counter showed Ardelia's obvious frustration. "They are soulmates, dammit! How can you not see that those two are meant to be? With all the shit they've been through? Are you kidding me? They deserve happiness." Pause. "And a good hard fuck with each other. You know what? Fuck first, happily ever after second."

Charles shushed her harshly. "For fuck's sake, will you be quiet?"

The answering eye roll was nearly audible. "Oh, calm down, will ya? Clarice could sleep through a damn nuclear war on a normal day. That girl hasn't slept properly for at least five years now. She won't be waking up anytime soon."

"Maybe she would still be asleep if you two wouldn't talk so damn loud," Clarice called out, slightly slurring her words. Apparently she had fallen asleep with her mouth open. Ugh. It was like trying to talk through cotton balls.

Wonderful.

Charles cleared his throat. "Told you."

"Oh, fuck off. You're the one who started it, anyway."

"Me? You wouldn't shut up about it!"

"You were the one flipping through channels like an asshole. There's this new thing called a guide button. You should study up on it."

"Let's not forget who made me stop when there were two minutes of an episode left. Two. Minutes. And we've been talking about it for…two hours? Jesus Christ."

"Exactly. We. Not just me. I rest my case."

"But two hours? Really? You are aware that's not normal, right? That usually people talk about a variety of topics in that sort of time frame?"

"Oh, please. Like anyone in this fucking room knows anything about being normal."

Clarice groaned loudly. "Goddammit, will you two stop bickering like children and just shut up?" She blindly groped around for a pillow. Upon finding one, she threw it in the relative direction of their voices. Or where she thought their voices were coming from. It hit a hard surface with a soft, anticlimactic pooft.

Ardelia snickered but Charles held his ground.

"How the hell are you one of the top marksmen for the FBI?"

The snickering evolved into a cackle. "Wasn't even close."

She finally opened her eyes and glared at her fiancé and her best friend. The kitchen was connected with the living room in one open area allowing for an easy stare down. The two idiots were staring innocently at her with barely concealed grins. Her eyes moved to the pillow which was embarrassingly far from them. Hell, it was closer to the front door than it was to them.

Goddammit.

Clarice sat up, hissing in pain as she unstuck her face from the metal spiral on the notebook she had been writing in. She rubbed the indented skin on her cheek with the arm that wasn't asleep from the awkward angle it had been in for however long she had been out of it. The stiffness in her neck refused to go away as she tried to crack it. Excellent. A crick. Just what she needed.

She swung her legs around and immediately regretted doing so. Most of the papers and files she had been looking through were already on the floor. The remainder joined their brothers and sisters on the ugly brown carpet. Everything was completely disorganized. She stared at the mess with narrowed, accusing eyes as if it was to blame for its creation.

Who the hell piled this shit on me?

"Fuck you," she muttered to the chaos as she got up off the couch. Clarice stretched for a moment before shuffling sluggishly to the kitchen. She plopped on the high chair next to Charles at the counter and leaned her head against him. He, in turn, wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. "You really should know better than to let her watch 'X-Files'."

He raised his free hand up defensively. "Hey, I tried—"

"Nine seasons," Ardelia interrupted him, staring at her tea pitifully. "There are over twenty episodes per season. An hour long each. Since episode one, the sexual tension between Scully and Mulder has been ridiculous. I'm on season five. My sanity is gone, girl. All I got left at this point is the hope that they'll fuck in the future."

She rolled her eyes at her best friend's overdramatic words. Clarice carefully angled her head upward to look at Charles with a semi-stern expression. "Good luck getting her to talk about anything else for the next two weeks."

"Oh, I know." His humor-filled dark brown eyes flicked back to hers. "Why do you think I was flipping through the channels so quickly?"

"I don't know! Apparently, I missed all of that." She yawned and rubbed her eyes. "How long was I out?"

Ardelia cleared her throat. "Seven hours."

Clarice dropped her hands and looked over at her with raised brows. "Are you serious?" She fixed her stare on Charles again. "Why didn't either of you wake me?"

"You needed the sleep," he replied with a shrug.

"Don't you two understand? I need every second I can for this case! I can't sleep over a quarter of the day away and expect to gain any sort of advantage on those two psychotic assholes. We're talking about a—"

Ardelia switched to mom mode without missing a beat and cut her off. "Clarice Starling, when was the last time you slept?"

Honestly, she had no idea. "Um."

Good response. Really showing off that wit you apparently have.

"Exactly," her best friend responded crossing her arms over her chest. "Sleep allows for your mind to work properly. Considering who you're up against, you are going to need every brain cell working at a relatively functioning level. If you don't sleep, it'll take you even longer to solve this case. We'll help but I'm not doing your job for you."

Clarice sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine. You're right. I am up against a certifiable genius and a… well, hell, Black Widow is probably smart as fuck too. Lecter wouldn't voluntarily spend time with someone he didn't view as an equal in the intelligence department. She hasn't gotten caught yet so she knows what she's doing in regards to law enforcement and forensics—"

"Hold that profile for a second." Ardelia held up a single finger. "Did you just humble brag in my kitchen? Because that sort of behavior is not tolerated here."

"No." Not intentionally, at least. Clarice scrunched up her nose. "And when did this become your kitchen? I cook in here too!"

Ha. Fucking liar.

"Uh huh." Her arms crossed over her chest. "Reheating leftover takeout doesn't count as cooking."

"I'll have you know I can cook a mean omelet," she replied defensively, mirroring Ardelia's movements as she too crossed her arms. "You've both tried it and liked it as I recall!"

Charles leaned close to her and stage whispered, "Cariño, I hate to break it to you but omelets are right above frying eggs." Ardelia pointed at him as if his words were her closing statement.

God, she needed caffeine. She was clearly ill-equipped to handle their banter. "Will you two stop gaining up on me? I get enough of that at work."

As if reading her mind, Ardelia went to the cabinets to get some coffee grounds before prepping the machine. "They are just being dicks. We do it out of love."

"Uh huh. Sure." She rolled her eyes and stifled another yawn. "Did you two at least get some amount of work done while I was asleep?"

Ardelia and Charles looked at each other for a moment. It was like they were playing a mental game of rock, paper, scissors. She rose a brow at him and he reluctantly withdrew his arm from Clarice. Ardelia was probably cooking his favorite meal. She was not above holding that over him. She was probably the one who covered her in the files.

As Charles gathered up their notes, Ardelia answered her question. "Yeah. When you crashed, we finished. Found out a lot more about the victims thanks to the techs. Seriously, man, whoever was assigned to this case before you was fucking atrocious at their job. It's like they couldn't be bothered to do any in-depth research."

"Why didn't you get the case?" Charles asked, returning to his seat with files and notebooks in tow.

Clarice shrugged, tracing over an intricate pattern on the countertop. "Well, by the time the FBI realized it was a serial, I was in the middle of working on Buffalo Bill. Honestly, the only reason anyone realized all of the cases were connected was Senator whatever's death. When he became her victim, the press took it and ran with it. Guess she wanted the attention off of Buffalo Bill and all to herself."

Ardelia started the coffee machine and leaned against the counter. "Actually, it got the attention came off of you too. I remember you making the paper a few times, being an FBI trainee and all. You were something like the first trainee to catch a serial killer? It's been years but I know the media was fawning over you for a week. Maybe she didn't like you getting the spotlight before her. She had been keeping it real low-key before that point."

"Oh, yeah. I'm sure she did it with me in mind," Clarice retorted sarcastically. "Because, obviously, I'm the reason all serial killers do what they do. Couldn't possibly be psychological or anything."

"Hey, you never know." She reached up grabbed two mugs. "They're all crazy anyway so who the hell really knows."

Not like it's my damn job to know why they're all crazy.

"Anyway." Clarice gave her best friend a look. She really just wanted to get back on topic and not argue about it. "Lecter broke out about a week later and she was put on the media back burner again. Black Widow hid in the shadows for about a year after that. Come to think of it, they might have been in contact then." She sighed. "But we don't know. Not only that, but we can't know. They both know how to move undetected. All that we do know is directly after that, her killings became far more sporadic and deliberate. It's one of the reasons she hasn't been caught yet."

The other two soaked in that information quietly. Ardelia grabbed a few files and went through them. The sheer amount of victim folders could've induced a panic attack. Black Widow was a busy one. Thankfully, with her two idiots there to help her, the pressure had subsided a bit. The calming, delicious scent of the coffee brewing was a bonus.

Clarice did notice Ardelia biting on her tongue as she went over the files. It was something she did when she was trying her hardest to hold back something. She watched her roommate walk over to the coffee pot and pour some into the two mugs.

"What?"

Ardelia didn't even look up as she placed the mugs in front of Charles and Clarice. "You are gonna judge me so damn hard."

"Yeah, I don't think I have any right to judge anyone before they speak."

Lost that privilege years ago.

She sighed. "Okay, is it horrible of me to say that I love the work Black Widow is doing? I mean, not a single guy she killed was good in any way, shape, or form. Actually, she's eradicating the scumbag population—"

"Ardelia!" It was out of her mouth before Clarice could stop herself.

So much for not judging.

"What? They're all complete assholes. Every one of them. That fucking Senator she killed off a decade ago was apparently molesting his kids and beating his wife. A real fucking winner. And at least two of her other victims were rapists. Those were the ones I was looking at." Ardelia smacked the files in exasperation. "C'mon. You're telling me, as a woman, as a human being, that you can stand there and look at all the work she's done and not be rooting for her at least a tiny bit?"

"She has a point." Charles looked up from the notes. He had apparently been glancing over them while listening to their conversation. "I hate to say it but, can we really call any of them victims? Because I saw some sick shit in those files too. Those lab techs were actually voting among themselves to give this woman an award if she gets caught. Hell, I'm considering giving this woman a Batsuit and letting her have at it."

Well, shit. This is taking a turn.

"Okay, look." Clarice massaged her temples then looked at both of them individually. "We can all sit here and agree that what Black Widow is doing is good. Hell, she is doing good. I'm happy she got those scumbags off the streets. I'm happier they're dead. But our jobs aren't about what's good and what's bad. They're not even about what's right and what's wrong. Our jobs are about what's legal and what's illegal and catching the sons of bitches who do the latter."

Ardelia and Charles looked like they had just been told Santa Claus didn't exist. It was horrible but it was the truth. She had discovered it in therapy and it was world-changing. Clarice had been trying to fight alongside a system that couldn't give two shits about her morals. Even with that knowledge, she still had them. Kept her from becoming another Krendler, Pearsall, or Hemming. God knew the last thing she wanted to be was anything like them. It might kill her but Clarice would cling to that light. To the last remnants of her father.

What a cold, heartless world we live in.

"Damn, girl. That's just depressing as hell."

"And here I thought I was the cynical one of the group." He stared at his coffee. "You just made me reconsider my entire job."

"Sorry, guys. If we put her up on a pedestal like that, we won't have any motivation to catch her. It's probably why no one genuinely tried to catch her before. The true difference between Lecter and Black Widow is that Lecter has killed innocents. He might not consider them innocent but his opinion really doesn't matter in court. It's much easier to put the monster label on him. She has, technically, not killed a single 'innocent' person. Purposefully so. While Lecter's definition of 'guilty' is one of his own making, Black Widow's definition is much more aligned with the majority of society."

"Okay, okay. Fine. Let's do this stupid, soul-sucking job." Ardelia hopped up on the counter, carefully swinging her legs around to avoid knocking over the files. Clarice internally sighed out of relief. Her best friend was finally being serious. Without her, Clarice never would've caught Buffalo Bill. She was truly an invaluable resource.

Ardelia took a sip of tea before continuing. "Before you conked out, you were updating her profile. But that was before Charles and I gathered the rest of the information. What else do we know about her based on all this shit?"

"Okay, um…" Clarice looked on the table for her notebook then remembered it was still on the couch. She, not so gracefully, slid off the chair and jogged over to the couch. As she walked back to the kitchen, her eyes scanned over the information she had already written down. Some of it was completely illegible. Her mentally exhausted state had led her to create an entirely new language. A frustrated frown adorned her lips as Clarice scratched things out wildly. Next to none of it was helpful.

What do we know?

No idea.

There needed to be organization. Had to. Yeah, the folders were organized but she needed to see all of it. Just staring at the blocks of scribbled information was not doing her any good. Clarice couldn't even do basic victimology with the chaos displayed before her.

She glanced up at them. "We need to organize all of this."

An hour and the entire coffee pot later, the apartment had gone through some redecorating. One of the living room walls was mostly covered with the papers inside the folders. Victim photographs, various reports, and written notes had replaced the minimum decorations. Clarice felt calmer looking at the controlled order the three of them had created. Each of Black Widow's victims had a vertical column dedicated to them and they were placed in chronological order of discovery. It bothered her a bit that the first few might be out of order but there wasn't anything she could do about it.

Clarice hadn't bothered with Lecter. It would only stir her up. While he had an official profile on file, Black Widow had never gotten the honor. No one had given enough of a damn. She walked around and took notes of similarities while Charles and Ardelia watched from the couch.

On the surface, none of the victims seemed to be connected. But the more she looked at them, the more dots began to connect themselves.

"Interesting," she mumbled to herself.

Ardelia spoke up. "Alright. Spill. What do you know?"

"As I said before, Black Widow has to know police and forensic procedures. There's no possible way she could be active for over a decade —no, sorry, two decades— and not be familiar with how law enforcement works. Initially, I thought she had to be an officer or maybe a criminal justice major. The fact that the men she chose were uncaught criminals only added to that theory. But that's actually impossible. She would never go into criminal justice as a career. Her personality wouldn't allow it."

Charles tilted his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Law enforcement is made up of mostly men, right?" Both of them nodded. "Judging by her victims, her problems stem from something to do with a male authority figure. She would never put herself in a situation where a man would have control over her. It would be unbearable for her."

"So, she feels the need to control all men. Look," Ardelia got off the couch and gestured to the victim pictures. "The victims are all different. They're a mix races, religions, and incomes. If she was wanting to relive killing one, specific man, wouldn't they all look relatively the same?"

"That's what I thought too. I was a bit confused when we started putting up all the photos. Serial killers usually have a type. Particularly the highly organized ones. She's willing to study them enough to know they're all criminals. Randomly killing therefor wouldn't make sense. But what could be connecting all the victims together?" Clarice handed her the notebook. "That's when I saw their martial statuses."

Ardelia sat back on the sofa's arm with Charles looking around her. She had written down each victim's name and marked down their statuses. "She's going after married men?"

"No, look," he pointed to a few of the names. "Some aren't married. They don't fit the pattern."

"If we dug deep enough, I guarantee you that those listed as 'single' were dating someone. No legal documents force people to say if they're just in a relationship which is why they appear to be single. In fact, I'm sure she purposefully mixed them up to throw us off her trail."

"Smart criminals are goddamn annoying," Ardelia grumbled as she handed back the notebook.

"Preaching to the choir, hun," Clarice replied with a grimace. "Now that we know there is something linking the victims, we move onto why. Why would she choose men who were in a relationship?"

"Hang on." Charles got up and walked over to the wall. "When I was looking over the autopsy reports, I noticed all of mine were found in sketchy motels. Spread eagle on the bed with a body part missing. I thought it was a weird. They were put on display. No covers or anything. I know if I was found dead like that, it would be humiliating."

"Same with all of the victims I covered," Ardelia commented staring at the wall. "The reports also said there were indications that they had had sex right before they died. Not that Black Widow would be nice enough to leave any of her succubus DNA at the scene. Something about the body chemistry." She gestured dismissively with her hand. "Blah blah, science shit, nobody cares."

"So they were cheating," Charles concluded, glancing at Clarice. "All the victims were cheating on their wives and girlfriends before Black Widow killed them."

Clarice smiled proudly at them. Words couldn't describe how grateful she was to have them their with her. "Exactly. They betrayed the women they were supposed to be loyal to. I'd even wager she gave them plenty of chances to not go through with it."

"Okay, hold on a second." Ardelia's eyes narrowed as she tried to understand what Clarice was saying. "Are you trying to tell me that Black Widow wants them to be loyal? Why seduce them at all then? If she doesn't want them to cheat, why would she try to get them to do just that? Isn't that completely counterintuitive?"

Clarice opened her mouth but Charles answered as he sat back down. "A truly loyal man wouldn't give her the time of day. She might try to seduce him but if he genuinely cares about his girlfriend or wife, he would shoot her down." His eyes flickered in her direction and gave her a not-so-subtle wink.

She bit her lip in an attempt to hide her smirk and failed miserably.

Smart, smart man.

"Betrayal would need to be a constant theme in her life. Multiple male authority figures. Not just one. It explains why she's not going after a group of similar looking men as several different ones have led her to becoming so broken. An individual has to go through deep, constant pain to stray this far from humanity." Clarice tilted her head to the side. "The first was probably her father. I don't know about the rest but he most likely made the first cut. What he did to her… I'm not sure. The frivolous sexual intercourse part of her murder ritual by itself screams father issues. It's a form of rebellion."

Ardelia shook her head. "Rebelling against dad is one thing. Happens to the best of us —shut that trap of yours, Charles." He promptly closed his mouth. "Now, murder and cannibalism are kinda a whole 'nother level. Murder is illegal, obviously, and cannibalism is a societal taboo. In my opinion, she's flown straight past some who cares teenage rebellion and right into Straightjacket-ville."

"What her dad did to her only started her down this path. She's not doing it with him in mind. Hell, she might not even be aware of his impact on her. She might be in denial of it. This was years upon years in the making. It didn't happen overnight. Someone made her snap. Who did it might not even be relevant to catching her."

The three fell into a studious silence. Clarice felt pretty confident in her current profile but several pieces were still missing. She had only just begun to get into the mind of this woman. She was still no closer to knowing who the murderess was.

"Why did they call her Black Widow?"

Charles's question pulled her out of her daze. "Most people believe female black widow spiders eat their mates once they've mated. Tell ya the truth, I thought the same until yesterday. Went to visit Pilcher and Roden and they told me whole thing is a myth. Didn't stop the media from giving her the name though. Catchy, malicious sounding name for a serial killer is always good for ratings."

He nodded and focused back on the wall of paper. Ardelia looked over at her. "Why does she take a piece of her victims togo? Other than obvious cannibal reasons."

She tapped her pen against her notebook. "I've been thinking about it. From what we already know about her, I would guess that she sees it as the ultimate form of dominance. She ensnared her prey, got it where she wanted it, and then proceeds to consume it." Clarice shrugged. "They hold no more power over her after consumption."

"Alright. Fair enough. But there's something else I don't get." Ardelia crossed her arms over her chest. "If she has this big vendetta against male authoritative figures, why the hell would she team up with Lecter? I would imagine he'd be one of the last people she'd want around. I'm sure she would hate the fact that he indirectly announced their relationship to the world with that letter."

Clarice hated that she internally winced at it being called a relationship.

"True. She was managing to stay on the FBI's back burner until then. Can't imagine she appreciated being forced into the spotlight like that."

"You think he told her?"

Charles snorted causing both of them to look at him. "I bet he didn't. Bet she heard it on the news and whooped his ass."

The mental image of some mystery seductress smacking around Lecter was so absurd, it made them laugh. "She gotta better deal than me. I got dispatch radioing me, telling me my fiancé is on the national news. No details of course cause that woman hates me."

Clarice gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry about that. I was gonna tell you at dinner. Hell, Ardelia and I were still talking about it when you called me. Clint apparently wasted no time." She ran a hand through her auburn locks. "I still can't believe he would stoop so low. I knew he was an ass but leaking that information was a whole new level of dickbag."

"Girl, fuck Clint," Ardelia said aggressively. "He better be happy he got off so light with that unpaid suspension. Thought for sure that Noonan was gonna kill the stupid, petty bastard. I'm still thinking about killing him."

"You're gonna need to get in line."

Clarice could feel the tension building in the room. She really needed to disperse the situation before it got worse. They were great friends but they were also quite protective. The last thing she needed was the two of them going to prison. "How about we plan his murder another day? Alright?"

Ardelia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, whatever," she mumbled.

She looked to Charles. "Alright?"

He huffed and relaxed. "Fine. I'll just buy one of the meter maids lunch and have his car towed or something. I won't kill him. Yet."

Clarice kept her narrowed eyes on him for a few seconds longer until she was satisfied. "Now, to answer your question," she turned back to Ardelia. "I have no goddamn idea."

Helpful.

"Right? It doesn't make any sense." Ardelia got off the couch, clearly needed to get rid of her built up frustrated energy. "Everything else works. But those two being together is just pissing me off. They are two highly intelligent narcissists. They shouldn't be together. They shouldn't even be able to be around the other. I keep putting their profiles beside each other in my head and I come to the same conclusion. No fucking way could they be in a relationship or whatever serial killers do together. They'd be more likely to kill each other. God, none of this makes sense."

"Maybe the hate fucking is just that good," commented Charles. Not quite back to serious investigator yet.

"Charles, don't make me smack you." She snapped her fingers in front of Clarice's face impatiently. The coffee and tea combination was hitting Ardelia hard. "I can hear those gears turning, hun. Tell me what you're thinking."

Clarice's head jerked up and her vision focused on Ardelia. She had heard everything they'd said. Yeah, it was stupid. No, it didn't make sense. What if… "I agree with you."

"You wouldn't be on another planet mentally if that was the case."

"Okay!" There was no arguing with her. "What if he trusted her?"

Ardelia scoffed disbelievingly. "Lecter doesn't trust anyone. That's like paragraph two in his profile. A profile that you wrote, I might add."

No need to be a bitch. Damn.

She kept her temper in check. Ardelia's frustration had eaten away the remainder of her patience. "I'm familiar with what my profile says."

Very familiar.

Maybe too familiar.

Way too fucking familiar, actually.

"But what if this trust was built over years?" she continued as her mind went a thousand miles an hour. Thoughts and emotions she truly wanted to never ponder on broke through.

She didn't want any of it.

Fuck off.

"Think about it. Black Widow would accept him for who and what he was. She would understand him on a level no one else could as a fellow serial killer and cannibal. A loyalty like no other."

I could've—

No, you couldn't. And you won't. So shut up.

"That makes sense," Charles said slowly. Thankfully, he was back to being serious. His eyes narrowed at the wall. "Wait a second—"

"Oh, my god." Ardelia covered her mouth with her hand. Both of them were having lightbulb moments. "Her first documented kill happened when he was at Baltimore State…"

"Not surprising but that wasn't the final straw." Clarice shrugged and shifted her stance. She was feeling a bit fidgety too. "Hell, maybe it was to get his approval. She didn't feel betrayed by him. He wasn't one of her victims for a reason. Something else happened. Someone else broke her."

"Okay, no. That's not what I meant. The timeline fits—"

"No, no, shut up. Look at the crime scene photos." Charles got off the couch. Even he couldn't sit still. They could all sense they were on the cusp of a big breakthrough. "After he broke out, her killing evolved. It became more vicious and ruthless. There's passionate rage behind these kills rather than clinical aloofness. Lecter might not have been why she started killing but there's a direct correlation here. Has to be. Why else would she change?"

"'Loyalty like no other'." Ardelia's body turned towards Clarice with raised brows. "What if she's jealous?"

Uh oh.

Clarice was getting a bad feeling. She knew she wasn't going to like where this was heading.

"What? Why?"

Don't play dumb. We know why.

Charles picked up where Ardelia left off. "That trust Lecter has for her would be returned, yeah?"

"Sure." She shook herself mentally out of her semi-frazzled state. "I mean, yes, probably."

"But instead of returning to her, he went after you."

Clarice felt like all the breath was knocked out of her.

Oh, shit.

No no no no no…

"That's what I've been trying to say!" Ardelia all but yelled at them. The couple looked at her. Once she had their attention, she took a breath and lowered her voice. "The timeline fits. Imagine. Young woman growing up. She's betrayed by all men who hold any amount of power over her. Then, a suave, sophisticated, educated man— fuck it. I'll bite the bullet. A handsome, suave, sophisticated, educated man enters her life." She made a gagging sound. Probably for effect. "He showers her with everything she's ever wanted and more. Because of this, a relatively unbreakable bond of loyalty starts to form towards him. She trusts him. She'll do anything for him. Maybe she even loves him. And she's under the impression that this bond she and Lecter share is a two-way street. But then a young FBI trainee enters Lecter's life and captures his attention. He breaks outta prison and goes after his new obsession. His obsession wants nothing to do with him. All while the woman who's been nothing but loyal to him gets to hear about Muskrat Farms and Chesapeake Bay on the news. What do you think that does to someone like her?"

Charles's eyes went wide as her words dawned on him. "Holy shit."

Ardelia pointed to him. "Exactly." Her attention went back to Clarice. "Black Widow interprets Lecter's whole ordeal with you as him cheating on her. He now fits her criteria to a T."

A pit was forming in Clarice's stomach. She felt ill. The immense enjoyment that came with psychoanalyzing serial killers was gone.

Was it because he was in danger?

She didn't want to know.

"But she hasn't killed Lecter." Was that a hint of fear in her voice? Fuck. "At least not that we know of—"

"Yeah but," Ardelia cut in. "Remember what you said about her profile? She gives all the men numerous chances to prove they're loyal to the women they're with."

"Fine. Let's go with this train of thought." Clarice inhaled sharply before saying her next words. "I'm not trying to seduce Lecter. I'm not trying to take him away from her. I don't fit into this equation. That part isn't a reality."

"What's real and what's imaginary to you and me doesn't matter right now," Ardelia replied, sympathy seeping into her voice. "To Black Widow, you are the other woman, Clarice. You are the only thing standing between her and her happily ever after with Lecter."

Well, that's just great.

A/N: Dun dun dunnnnnn!

Ardelia's love for the X-Files came from a conversation with my best friend involving being an FBI agent and loving the X-Files. It would be criminal for someone to not have called Clarice 'Scully' with her sass, brilliance, red hair, and FBI-ness.

Fun fact: The emblem of the Knights of the Round Table included a red dragon. It was the Red Dragon of King Arthur and it represented the Knights devotion to their king. Always thought that was amusing after reading/watching Red Dragon.

Feedback is always appreciated!

Ta ta,

Dreamiest Nightmare