A/N: Greetings again, my darlings.

Thank you for all of you dears who reviewed. I would also like to mention that those of you who are reading this and are not members of this site may also leave reviews as anonymous reviews. Just letting you all know. No I'm not desperate, I just love feedback.

I would also like to apologize for the long wait for the update. Real life is quite tedious sometimes.

In this chapter, it gets kinda confusing. At the beginning, we are back to Audrey's review for a little bit. After the first '*.*.*' that you see, it switches to Hannibal's point of view. After the second '*.*.*' it goes back to Audrey point of view. I know, it is a little tricky but I'm just trying to save you all a bit of confusion.

Also, the setting is a little bit tricky. Remember when I said that there was a basement and that's where all the weapons were stored? Well, there's also a room holding a high-tech security monitoring system that when activated, turns on all of these miniature video cameras that are placed strategically throughout the mansion that allows the viewer to virtually see everything that is occurring in every room of the household. When it switches to Hannibal's point of view, he is in that room watching Audrey perform her magic. Yes, you will have to read the chapter to know what I'm talking about. No, I'm not telling you anything else. Yes, I am quite possibly evil, however, do not judge me. It is quite rude. And as we all know, rudeness doesn't sit well with the Good—and Delicious—Doctor himself.

Disclaimer: Full disclaimer is located in the Prologue. In this chapter, I do not own the lyrics to 'Deceiver of Fools' by Within Temptation. Most appropriate song for Hannibal, yes? Thought so.

In a world of the free
He plays with your mind
As faith for the future faded fast
He grows strong with their displeasure
It sets him free
Deceiver of hearts
Deceiver of fools
He rules with fear

Chapter 4: Deceiver of Fools

Two Weeks Later

"Are you ready?"

I shot Hannibal a withering look, one that few living souls would ever dare to do if they savored their lives. "Are you serious?"

He cocked an eyebrow, raising his eyes just long enough to meet mine before returning his visual attention to my shoulder-blade-length, auburn-shaded wig. "When am I not?"

So says the man who thinks everything in life is a game. Fighting a smile, I replied with a casual air, "Well, there was that one time at Christmas when you got drunk and you—"

"Sweetheart, I thought we agreed never to speak of that again," Hannibal interrupted me in a light, but serious voice of warning. Despite his words and tone, I could tell that he was mildly amused. As always—at least for me—his maroon eyes were like an open book (Okay, so he was more of a library if I was to be honest, which I normally am…most of the time…when it's convenient...nevermind.) that I could access at will. Of course, that's how mine were to him, that I was very much well aware of. That, I might add, had sucked royally back when I was trying to hide my less-than-appropriate feelings for him from him. I mean, talk about a total bitch.

Flashing a wicked grin in the mirror, I decided to tease him a bit more. "I'm shocked, Hannibal. Your magnificent memory palace clearly eludes you when you are rip-roaring drunk. Since you do not remember, I'll take pity upon your temporary helplessness and tell you what really occurred during the morning in question. I agreed to nothing. As I recall, you asked me precisely to hold my silence on this subject matter a few minutes following your waking up the morning after with that monstrous hangover and then passing right back out without hearing my answer." I paused, tapping my chin as if trying to recall a memory. "Although, I do, however, remember you mentioning something about Dante's cheekbone." I shrugged nonchalantly. "Quite frankly, I don't really know how I reacted to that. I think I just ignored it and blew it off as temporary insanity due to the deliriousness that was left over from the alcohol that still plagued your system at that time."

"Watch it, sweetheart." He mumbled his voice like that of poisoned honey. By this time, I knew he knew that I was purposely pushing his limits. I was well aware that the intelligent—as well as probably the safest—thing for me to do at this point would be to stop my current teasing. To continue doing this would be the equivalent of mocking a hungry lion by dangling a juicy, T-bone steak right within a tantalizing reach but not close enough to actually obtain it.

But honestly? This was wayyyyy too much fun to stop.

I didn't have any idea why he was being so unusually touchy today. For whatever reason unbeknownst to me, he had woken up this morning in a really grumpy mood. (Hard to imagine, I know. Mister I-am-always-in-control-of-my-emotions being a regular grump-o-saurus in the early morning just like the rest of us normal-ish mortals.) Whenever Hannibal was like this, it was best to keep a good distance; much like you would to an irritated tiger. But today…today, I was feeling kind of…audacious. (Now, whether it was out of sheer stupidity or some kind of insane fearlessness that I had somehow picked up out of the blue was still yet to be determined.) Haha, I guess you could call me "Audrey-acious". (Dear god that was a horrible pun.) My thoughts were interrupted when I could feel his breath warm near my ear, tickling the hypersensitive skin on the back of my throat. Sharp prickles of pain made me suddenly very aware of the fact that my fingernails were digging deeply into my clenched palms as my body fought itself in keeping a calm, controlled exterior rather than just letting ago, and melting into his highly suggestive movements in sweet surrender. ARGH! Goddamn him. Okay, relax girl. Deep breaths. Just focus Audrey. Just focus and—

OH. MY. GOD. Was that his tongue that just lightly traced my coritied artery? My muscles went completely ridged as I struggled to repress a delicious shudder from traveling up my spine. Jesus Christ, he was making it awfully hard to think properly, let alone retaliate wittily in this verbal sparring of ours. I should just be thankful that my voice didn't sound like I had just joined the cast of Alvin and the Chipmunks. Hey, now that's a cute thought.

Shaking the irrelevant idiocy from my mind, I forced myself to concentrate. "Make me, honey." I sassed back defiantly; eyes narrowing slightly with mischief, lips smirking impishly.

Huh. Now that I think about it, perhaps that wasn't the smartest thing to say to a psychopathic cannibal, AKA the man I was head over heels in love with.

His face suddenly appeared over my shoulder in the glass. The expression donning on his face was a dangerous one; burgundy eyes glaring daggers, nostrils flaring, lips pressed together in a thin line. (Yep. I was definitely working towards having an early death.) "Don't make me punish you for your noncompliance towards me, Audrey. You know that I will not tolerate any variety of rudeness directed towards me." I dropped my eyes from his to my lap, almost afraid of what I'd see there. There was a scarcely half pause before he spoke again.

"Look at me."

Argh. Seriously? How did one sound so incredibly sexy when giving out orders? I mean, I knew for a one-hundred percent fact that I wasn't in any way, shape, or form a submissive. That thought alone was ludicrous. A cold-hearted serial killer being a sexually submissive woman? I internally snorted at the notion. Pssh. Yeahhhh. Right.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly raised my eyes and—

Rawr.

I almost fell out of my chair as I pathetically attempted—and just barely succeeded—in biting back a gasp as his eyes met mine in the mirror; they were like twin burning-red coals hot off the fire, practically glowing with heated intensity. WHOA momma. Hot fucking damn. If that look in his eyes is any hint to what the punishment will be…

Well, heh…

SWEET DEAR LORD JESUS please punish me. (I mean it. Pretty please? No, I'm not kidding. Okay, yes I am…but not really.) I mean, hell, I'll get on my knees and beg for it. Screw my dignity, fuck my pride. Ima woman with a drop-dead sexy man looking at her like a piece of meat. Give me a lil' bit of slack here.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I opened my mouth to retort sassily when I felt his teeth lightly scrape the sensitive flesh on the back of my neck. The gasp I had been holding back escaped huskily threw my lips, my eyes flying open in the process. His eyes were practically black as his gaze burned into mine; the pupils of his maroon orbs dilated almost in full range from the intensity of his anger. Shutting my eyes again briefly, I tried desperately hard to regain control over myself. Dunno why I even bothered. Any of the small shards that were left of my control was being ferociously shredded by the heat waves coming off his firm body that was pressed up against my back none so gently. Dammit. I could feel my arousal becoming in more obvious now that I was temporarily not in control of my response to his attentions. My own body was battling itself—a sort of fight or flight mode that was more like a turn-around-and-totally-ravish-this-drop-dead-sexy-man-like-some-sort-of-ravenous-beast or run-like-hell-out-of-this-bathroom-before-you-do-just-that. I took a moment to consider the situation. Naturally, I significantly preferred the first choice over the second one. I also faced the surprisingly not uncomfortable truth that he could smell my scent. (Big shocker there. I swear he had some kind of superhuman ability of smelling every-goddamn-thing.) Knowing that, I resorted to my usual, Captain-Jack-Sparrow-worthy plan: make it up as I went along.

When I re-opened them, I saw that Hannibal's lips had turned upward in a shrewd kind of smile.

What the…? Why—

Oh.

Oh hell no.

It was then that I realized that he had just been toying with my emotions like some kind freaking…deranged psychiatrist. (Okay…maybe not the best insult in the entire world.) He had been using my feelings towards him to get me back for my sassiness.

He did so not just—

I looked more closely at the reflection of his smirk in the glass as well as that knowing glint in his maroon eyes again just to make sure.

He did.

Why you—

"Son of a bitch," I whispered shakily as his smirk widened. "That was completely unfair."

He returned to fixing my wig as if nothing had happened. "Life is not suppose to be fair, my dear."

Still reeling from his actions and having temporarily lost my ability to come up with a witty reply, I choose to instead stick out my tongue in a rather childish manner, causing him to laugh. His body was still close enough so that I could feel it travel through his chest, vibrated my own being as it rumbled like thunder of an approaching storm. My focus was lost again. It was pathetic really. Me trying to keep my focus was like a toothpick trying to stand up in front of an F5 tornado. Damn him. This was definitely not a fair fight at all. In fact, this whole damn thing was starting to irritate me a little bit if I were to be perfectly honest.

I narrowed my eyes slightly in clear annoyance. "Stop it, Hannibal."

"Stop what?" He asked innocently. (Oh, puh-lease. Insert dramatic eye roll here and spare me the Idiot Treatment. Like this man didn't have a clue what he was doing to me. C'mon now.)

I rolled my eyes. "You know what."

"I'm afraid not," he stated simply.

"Are you now?" I smiled cheekily. "I thought you were a human being."

He gave me a look as if saying, 'Really?' The tension, which had steadily been building within the room from the moment I had decided to be irrationally bold, snapped. Whether it was from the hilariously incredulousness look he had given me or the just purely the utter relief of getting back to comfortable grounds, I covered my mouth as I began to giggle uncontrollably, inadvertently causing him to chuckle as well. It was a rich sound much like that of the finest symphony orchestra, although it was incomparable in its beauty. Hands down his laughter won in magnificence. The rare pleasure of hearing such a melody was one that I enjoyed with enormous relish and savored with immense delight. Yes, bragging rights are mine. And yes, you are quite allowed to be jealous.

Now that I think about it, I seriously loved this banter that we had between us. Some of the most prized memories of my life came from these repartee sessions. It was incredibly nice to have someone with my level of intelligence—255, just in case you were wondering (yes, drown in your sorrows as you read that)—to go back and forth with. Trust me; it is much harder to find smart people nowadays than it should be what with the massive amounts of resources and advancements that this generation of inventors and scientists has accomplished. Hell, I can even remember back when there were no computers—

Oh, well, shit. Now I'm dating myself. That's wonderful.

"Okay, my dear." Hannibal's voice broke through my thoughts. "Finished."

Focusing on the mirror again, I noticed that he had completed perfecting my hair. His eyes were also back to their usual calm, collected maroon and his facial expression gave no hint of anything that had happened within the last five minutes. Damn him (I was doing a lot of damning of him this evening, wasn't I?) for his ability to manipulate my emotions to such an intense degree. Since when had he gotten so slippery? Was I rubbing off on him or something?

Well, you know you want to rub up on him…

SHUT UP! Goddamn hormones. And my period isn't for another two weeks. Stupid body…

I slid out of my chair slowly, checking my reflection in the mirror. It struck me as odd on how similar I looked to my sister with my red wig...

Wait a second.

I looked like Clarice.

Hannibal was in love Clarice.

Hannibal had just manipulated my feelings for him.

An evil smile curled across my lips as an idea struck me. Bwhahaha…

This could be fuuunnnn.

Turning around, I sauntered slowly in a predator-like manner towards Hannibal, who was standing a few feet behind me. He raised an eyebrow in amusement, although by the way his body language was screaming wariness at my actions, I knew he was far from amused.

Good.

"Enjoy the show," I purred seductively, leaning in a breath away from his mouth. I could hear his breath hitch ever so slightly, giving me a thrill. Slowly and gently, I grazed his bottom lip lightly with my sharp, pearl-white teeth then lightly traced the same area over with the tip of my tongue before pulling back at a leisurely pace. I stroked a single finger under his chin slyly once before I strolled off smoothly as if nothing had occurred, much like he had done before. My lips smirked victoriously as I felt his eyes on me all the way out of the bathroom doorway. I was trying my absolute hardest not to bust out laughing at the incredulously stunned expression I saw on his face from my peripherals as I rounded the corner. There was no point really. A few moments later I gave in to the temptation and threw my head back, laughing wholly.

Yeah, bitch. I can do it too.

*.*.*

"Miss Julianne Foster?"

"Yes?"

"We are from the FBI." The two agents flashed their badges simultaneously.

"Ah. Good evening, Officers."

There was a small pause.

"May we come in, ma'am?"

"Yes, of course."

I allowed myself a small grin at the sound of Audrey's silver-tongued voice over the speakers as I watched her alluringly greet the Federal agents that answered the door on the central monitor in the surveillance room that was located in the basement. The incompetent fools had not been there five seconds and she had already disarmed their wall of professionalism with her feminine charm. Very impressive. Of course, Audrey did have this uncanny ability to effortlessly enchant any man she so choose into a bumbling buffoon. She was even able to enthrall my own mind into a pile of mush—not a small feet in any way, I can assure you—and cause my bodily functions to cease all movement on the rare occasion, much like the situation that occurred about a half hour ago in the bathroom. Usually it would not have worked on me, but she had looked eerily similar to Clarice in that moment. Her eyes were impossibly of Clarice's sapphire blue rather than her own indigo color and that voice…that voice almost ended the close friendship I shared with Audrey. (Quite honestly, it was her unexpectedly bold move of tracing my lips with her tongue that had forced me to shut my own self down before I ravaged her. Of course, it would not be Audrey I would be ravishing in my thoughts…)

Even after all of my work throughout those many years when she was younger of trying to flush out that horrid West Virginian accent, it still came back at times. Quite obviously, as I just learned, it comes out when she is attempting to distract another man. Closing my eyes for a moment, I tried to recollect my self-control over my body. Too many nights I had awakened violently from a dream of Clarice, usually covered in sweat and fully aroused. This previous night had been one of the most realistic I had dreamt since that night after the Chesapeake lake house fiasco. Just thinking about those vivid, graphic images caused me to involuntarily shudder. That gaze in her eyes alone had almost shattered the restraint I so proudly held over my every action.

Now that I reflect on these past few years, staying with my true love's twin sister—who unbeknownst to me had been in love with me all this time—in order to briefly recover from my injuries—physically as well as emotionally—that she had so critically applied to my being at Chesapeake was perhaps not my best idea.

Do not get me wrong. I do care for Audrey deeply. I would even go as far to say that I love her. However, the love I feel for Audrey is not nearly the same as I feel for my Clarice. I have considered the distinct possibility that had I never been caught, had Clarice never entered my life, Audrey and I would have most definitely ended up together in the future. The thought of that in no way being able to happen saddens me more than should be comfortable given everything.

But what is done is done. There is neither a point nor a need to question the possible outcomes of situations in a horrid game of 'what ifs'. Life would be a paranoid catastrophe of chaotic disaster if lived in that manner.

Turning my attention back to the screen, I thought back to the strange scene that I had occurred in the lavatory. Why had Audrey chosen to approach me in such a suggestive method? It was random, unsystematic, very much unlike her. She must have been provoked somehow—

Ah.

Brava, my dear, dear Audrey.

Two can most certainly play at that game.

*.*.*

"How did I do?" I asked breathlessly as I entered the room. The moment the agents had left, I had turned on my heels and raced to the elevator. Although it had been only seconds, the way down to the basement had seemed like hours. Patience has never been one of my strongest suits. Big shocker there, I know.

Placing down the paper he had been reading, Hannibal's gaze swept over me, his lips smiling. "Marvelously. Your superb performance would have made even Shakespeare weep at its unparalleled beauty." He cocked his head to the side in an inquiring manner. "Tell me, have you ever considered a career in acting?"

I snorted at his outrageous question, crossing my arms and leaning against the wall next to the doorway. "Sure, H. I'd fit right into Hollywood. All I would have to do is have a complete plastic surgery make-over, smile superficially in front of the cameras, blow my money on shit I don't need, and act like a total greedy asshole when the doors are closed."

Chuckling, he leaned back in the roll-y chair, slender fingers linked together behind his head. "My dear, has anyone ever told you that you are rather brutally honest when it comes to your opinion?"

"No. Shockingly, it's not actually a common thing that people say to a serial killer. The brutal part? Every second of every day. The honest part? Not so much."

His eyes glittered humorously. "Touché."

All of the sudden, the fatigue caused from my performance hit me like the train from that movie, 'Unstoppable'. I sunk into the chair beside him, rubbing the bridge of my nose wearily. "So, you think they took the bait?"

"Most definitely. Had I not been in on this plan, I would have fallen for it myself."

Looking over my shoulder, I saw his somewhat look of innocence. "Uh huh, right," I replied, grinning crazily.

His eyebrows rose in a clear show of over-exaggerated surprise. "You do not believe me?"

"Nope," I stated, making a popping sound with my lips at the end of the word. I turned around in my chair so that my leg accidently brushing up against his. "Although your compliment is highly valued, you are far too smart and observant for any sort of fabricated presentation, hun."

Hannibal seemed to consider my statement for a second. "All too true, my dear." He stretched his arms out briefly before standing up. "We have dinner reservations at 8:00. I hope you do not mind, but I took the liberty in acquiring an evening gown for you."

"Of course I do not mind. How can a woman say no to a gift bought for her?" I easily countered back.

Hannibal leaned back against the control panel, his hands griping the edge as his arms held his weight. "Audrey, I have not been fair in acknowledging your clearly uncomfortable position in these proceedings. I would like to let you know that I deeply appreciate and treasure—in an amount that exceeds any assortment of words—what you are doing for my happiness even with the comprehension of the bittersweet reality that the successful result of this scheme will cause you a great deal of pain and agony. Also, I would like you to know that I realize that this plan must be quite difficult for you to do considering your feelings towards me—"

"As you should also know that I would do anything for you because of the fact that I love you."

He blinked once at my statement before locking stares with me in an intense battle. I could tell that my blunt declaration of my love for him had shaken him rather distinctly. I knew he already knew my feelings for him, I also acknowledged that it is another thing entirely to go and verbal outright speak those said feelings. Like an entire freaking universe different.

Though, what he did next shocked me so bad, hell, I can still feel the shockwaves trembling over my body at just the thought of it.

With the speed of a striking cobra, he leaned down swiftly and kissed my lips ferociously in an unexpected blaze of unrestrained passion. It was like some kind of ravage animal was unleashed within him. My mind went utterly blank in absolute astonishment as all of my thought process shut down completely. His lips were soft on mine, but not in any way gentle. My breathing had totally stopped which was ironically in contrast with my heart, which was pounding like a fervently mad jackhammer in my chest. Suddenly, he ripped his deliciously dangerous mouth from mine, ragged breath matching mine as my body abruptly remembered to breathe again. I felt his warm breath once again on the side of my neck. His lips were so close to my ear that I could almost feel them moving as he spoke in a soft, seductive tone. "And maybe after dinner we can have dessert…" he trailed off as he snagged my earlobe in his mouth, tugging on it none too gently in a most suggestive fashion.

Then he was gone. Vanished into thin air like he hadn't even been there in the first place. It was several seconds after Hannibal had swept out of the room until I could gather my wits about me. Blinking several times almost in wonder, I tenderly touched my fingers onto my lips before turning the chair in the direction of the doorway as I gazed in awe into the space it occupied. I couldn't possibly tell you how long I sat there staring at that doorway. Time seemed extraordinarily trivial at this moment. Turning back around in my chair—still stuck in a lovesick daze—I spotted out of the corner of my eye the paper that he had been reading when I had first walked in here. I picked it up to examine it more closely. It was a torn page from a phone book. Even with my superior vision I still had to squint to read the tiny print. Under 'Food', the restaurant Citronelle was circled in thick black sharp. Written next to it in the elegant cursive that I had oh so grown use to was the phrase, 'Reservations at 8:00 PM'.

Huh. What a strange coincidence. Citronelle was the restaurant that had the Napoleon crème brûlée, my favorite dessert—

My lips, which had been curling upward, froze in mid-movement as did the rest of my body.

Wait a god-fucking-damn second.

I started ticking things off on my fingers unconsciously.

Having dessert…Citronelle…reservations…

Oh.

Oh.

Reality smacked me back with the force of an enraged bull charging full speed into me.

Wow. What a fucking bastard. That was such a dick move he had pulled it wasn't even funny.

I mean, I knew he had done that on purpose to get me back for what I had done earlier. But even I didn't go that far—

My mind flashbacked to his reaction to me pretending to be Clarice…the way his wiry muscles tensed up as if being forced to be frozen in some fierce attempt to preserve one's collapsed self-control…or the way I could faintly feel his magnificent form tremble when I grazed his lips with my teeth…

Okay. Sooooo, maybe I kinda sorta did actually in a way deserve that.

But I'm still not letting him off that easily.

It's 2-1, Hannibal…for now.

Let the games begin, my friend.

A/N: *ducks and runs for cover as sharp objects are thrown* Okay! Okay! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Don't kill me! I am a very, very loyal Clarice and Hannibal fan! Trust me! Ya gotta believe me! Please!

Okay, so let me make this very clear in case I had not before. Hannibal and Audrey have a very unique and unusual relationship, one that it never expressed nor even acknowledged in either the books or the movies. This is because Thomas Harris did not allow Hannibal to have anyone that was that close to him for a long period of time. Audrey has known Hannibal for nearly three decades. It makes sense that they would have something special. Their relationship is not a romantic one, but a very, very, very close one. Their fates are so tightly intertwined that it is impossible to break without causing the other pain.

Now that I think about it, I do hope I wasn't too out of character for Hannibal. I just wanted to establish the pretense of two hunters testing the other's weaknesses in a playful manner. Much like two lion cubs play-fighting just to get a feel for the real thing, Hannibal and Audrey use the knowledge of the other one's weakness to probe the . It's just a game. Nothing more…

So don't go all batshit crazy in the reviews. I don't want an explosion of pandemonium in there. At least not one in a bad way.

Also, I do believe I need to address the situation with the FBI agents. The FBI agents do not know who Audrey really is. It is all part of her and Hannibal's plan. More so Hannibal's plan than Audrey's considering the nature of it.

Also, like Audrey alias? Thought y'all would. I did it with all of you lovely dears in mind…and to sooth the potential ruffled feathers over Audrey's and Hannibal's actions.

WHICH WERE MEANINGLESS. THEY ARE JUST PLAYIN' A GAME. THAT IS ALL.

Oh yeah, and the whole "I'm afraid not" thing that Hannibal said and Audrey replied "thought you were a human being". It's an old joke. Look at like it being spelled 'I'm a frayed knot.'

Yes, horrible puns are awesome.

Hmmm…so what is this plan that Hannibal and Audrey are talking about? And what was the conversation that took place between Audrey and the FBI agents about? How do you think this dinner is gonna turn out?

Guess y'all are just gonna have to wait and find out, huh? *winks*

Ta ta,

Dreamiest Nightmare