Happy 2011! Wanted to give you a chapter for the new year, so here it is. I apologize for any flaws in the Italian translations during the flashbacks. Please keep reading, please review, favorite, and subscribe!

Also, if you're a fan of the TV show House, I have another fanfiction I am writing called Rosie. Take a look!

DG

Francesca looked back at Polly and took another drag on the cigarette.

"Francesca…" Polly started to scold her.

"Relax," Francesca got up.

"I need your measurements, dear."

"Me?"

Polly shrugged, "I don't know if you've changed much in the last four years."

"Awesome," she replied.

Hannibal was still sitting on the piano bench watching Francesca walk into the kitchen and start to make some coffee. He wondered what her plan was and thought about how close he'd come to kissing her.

"The boys are sleeping?" Francesca asked Polly.

"I didn't check but I believe so. Except for Hannibal of course," Polly laughed.

She simply nodded and sat back down at the piano beside Hannibal. She started playing again.

"So did you guys get back together or something?" Polly asked.

Francesca, shocked by what she said, played a wrong chord on the piano, "No."

Hannibal hung his head and covered his eyes, "Definitely not."

"Oh," Polly looked surprised. "Hm."

"We were never together Polly," Francesca got up to pour the coffee. "Strictly sex."

Polly rolled her eyes, "Francesca. Have you had a serious relationship in the past ten years?"

"Polly…" she glanced back at Hannibal who was listening intently.

"Answer the question."

Francesca poured the coffee, "Two."

"Two! And you never brought one of them to meet me," Polly reprimanded.

Brushing her hair back, she looked to Hannibal who had a small smirk on his face, "Don't worry. You wouldn't have liked them anyway."

She poured another cup for Hannibal and went into the refrigerator for milk. She put in a small amount slowly handed it to Hannibal who gave her a small smile, "Thanks."

"No problem," Francesca took a sip of her own.

"How much does she know?" Hannibal gestured toward Polly who was beginning to make breakfast.

Francesca sighed, "Everything. Almost everything."

"You're kidding me," Hannibal frowned.

"Calm down, she knows how to keep a secret," she flashed him a grin. "Like Murdock."

Flashback

Francesca was walking down the street. Her time off had been wonderful. Two entire weeks off had been just the kind of thing she needed. So she had packed up and flown to Italy for the week. She had indulged in Italian food, new friends, the finest fashions, but she didn't look at another man. Despite all the attractive Italians, she didn't flirt with them or have too intimate of a conversation with them. She made her way down the street, lowering her sunglasses. All of a sudden, she bumped into someone. A bunch of papers scattered the ground. She took of her sunglasses, "Oh my God, I'm so sorry."

The man had black curly air and dark brown eyes, "It's no problem."

"Let me help you," she bent over and started to pick up some of the papers.

"Oh, thank you very much," he beamed at her with perfectly white teeth.

Francesca handed him the papers, "No problem."

"Are you from America?" the man asked her.

She nodded worriedly, "Yes, yes I am."

"Maybe you'd like some Italian company to show you around to the secret sights. What do you say?" he started to give her the once over.

"Oh," Francesca paused. "I'm really not in the position to do that."

He frowned, "Pardon me?"

"Well, I have a- a significant other," Francesca smiled to herself. "But thank you for the offer. I appreciate it."

The man's smile returned, "Well. Well alright."

Francesca started to walk away, "Thanks again."

"No thank you," he bowed his head and backed away.

Francesca walked across the street toward an outdoor market. She was renting a beach house and decided that she'd finally try a recipe that a local woman had given her.

"Buongiorno," an older man called to her from behind the produce.

"Buongirono," she smiled back. "Come stai?"

"Meravigliosa, e voi?" he replied.

Francesca nodded, "Favoloso."

"Americano?" he inquired.

"Si… yes," she grinned.

He had a heavy Italian accent and gray mustache, "What's your name?"

"Francesca," she blushed.

"Ah, a nice Italian name. Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"Well, actually I'm planning on making my own Italian cuisine for dinner tonight. So I have a list," she said. "I have it right here," she shuffled through her purse. "Somewhere."

"Are you here with anyone?" the man raised an eyebrow.

Francesca looked up, "No, why?"

"Because there is a man down there looking at you," he pointed down the sidewalk. "I don't know if you know him."

Francesca rolled her eyes, smiling and then looked down the street. The man was quite far down. She narrowed her eyes and then gaped, "No. No way."

"You do know him then," the man laughed.

Giggling, Francesca turned down the road, "Yes, I do. I'll be back in a moment." She started to walk down the street toward the man, "Hi, stranger."

"I thought that was you," the man looked at her, grinning.

"How are you, John?" Francesca smiled.

"Well, now I'm great," Hannibal stepped closer to her.

She pulled her bag closer to her side, "Are you alone?"

"Well, I'm actually working, but yeah," he inspected her. She was tan, her hair a little blonder, and she was wearing a sundress. She looked striking.

"You're working?" she asked, saddened.

Hannibal crossed his arms, "The boys are finishing up some work. I'm just around."

Francesca pursed her lips in a smile. She kissed him firmly on the lips. After she pulled away, she took his hands in her own, "Come on. Let's have some fun."

"I might be pulled away at any moment," he moaned.

"Who cares? I have two more days here. And now that you're here…" Francesca led him by the hand back to the man at the produce. "Sono tornata," she said to the man.

"Ah…" he raised an eyebrow. "Your boyfriend?"

Francesca looked up at Hannibal, "Oh, no. Just a close friend."

"What's your name?" he looked to Hannibal.

"I'm John," Hannibal met the man's gaze.

"Aha," he nodded. "Cosa stai cercando?" he directed the question at Francesca.

She opened her purse again, "Um…" she found the list quickly. "Quattro pomodori…" Francesca listed off the ingredients quickly.

"I didn't know you knew Italian," Hannibal whispered in her ear as the man helped her acquire everything she needed.

Francesca brushed her hair from her face, "My dad's mom was Italian and she made it a point for me and Tommy to learn," she cleared her throat and mocked her older grandma, "The language of your people."

Hannibal laughed, "It's come in handy, then."

"I guess so," Francesca laughed, accepting the basket of goods from the man. "Grazie," she handed him the money she owed and took Hannibal's hand again. "I'm going to cook you a real Italian dinner tonight."

They started to walk away down the street as he replied, "I haven't had a home cooked meal in ages."

"I know," she smiled. "I'd invite the boys, but then…"

"It gets complicated," he finished her sentence. "Besides, it's just you and me today."

Francesca's heart leapt into her throat, "You're right."

Francesca and Hannibal walked down to the fish market, laughing and talking. Once they got there, three younger men automatically let their eyes gravitate toward Francesca. Hannibal felt so uncomfortable at that point he could hardly stand it. Francesca noticed automatically and began to blush incessantly. "Ciao, tesoro," one of them whistled to her.

"Ciao," Francesca rolled her eyes.

The second held up a gloved hand and pointed, "Bel culo."

"Andare via!" Francesca shouted back, holding up her middle finger.

"Oh, mi piacciono esuberante," another laughed.

Francesca looked to Hannibal and touched his arm, "Give me a moment." She began to walk away, but Hannibal grabbed her arm, "What's going on?"

Sighing, Francesca held out her hands, "I'll give you a play by play. He said 'Hello sweetheart' and I said hello back. But then that one in the worn overalls mumbled, 'nice ass' and I flipped him off. Then that one just said 'I like them feisty' and now I'm gonna lose it." She walked away, but Hannibal stuck behind to watch and be there just in case. In truth, he knew exactly what she was saying, but he thought he'd play with her for a little.

Approaching them, she held up a finger to them, "Guarda, potrei citare in giudizo per molestie sessuali."

Look, I could sue you for sexual harassment.

"Non sembra che tu abbia male a una mosca," the first clucked.

You don't look like you could harm a fly.

Francesca was absolutely fuming, she grabbed his collar, "Bite me." She dropped him and turned to walk away.

The man stopped her, touching her neck, "Non devi scappare."

Don't run away.

Hannibal pushed Francesca out of the way and pinned the man against the wall, "Non ti azzardare a toccare il suo."

Don't you dare touch her.

The men around him started to loosen his grasp on their friend.

Hannibal let him fall to the ground, "Buona giornata, gentiluomo." He turned back to Francesca who stood there with a small smile, "You know Italian too."

He touched her shoulder, Yes, I do."

"Thank you for doing that. That was very sweet," she looked down at the ground and pulled some hair from her face.

"That sounds promising," he slipped his arm around her and started to bring her forward.

Francesca raised her eyebrows, "Perhaps."

"Excuse me," a man appeared in front of them. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but watch what happened over there. Are you both alright?"

"Oh, thank you, but they were just harassing this young woman and I thought justice should be served," Hannibal pulled her closer to him.

Francesca nodded, "Yes, we're both fine."

"I apologize for the inconvenience. Here, your purchase is complementary," the man said, obviously a manager or owner.

She smiled sympathetically, "Well, thank you very much."

The manager rushed off and Hannibal and Francesca looked at one another. "You got some free fish out of this," Hannibal shrugged. "That's cool."

Francesca frowned, "I'd rather not be harassed."

"I… apologize," he shook his head.

Francesca put her arm through his, "I'm not mad, I'm tired of all of these guys. They're gross."

All of these guys…Hannibal thought to himself.

They made their way through the market, checking off the list as they went. When they were finished, Francesca stopped him, "Let's go stop at my place, put these ingredients away and then… I'll take you around my Italia."

"Sounds like a plan," Hannibal winked and wrapped his arm around her waist, kissing the side of her head.

End Flashback

Francesca had gone back to the piano. "Where are these guys?" she growled. "It's already seven."

"I don't even start my plans that early," Hannibal replied.

"You operate the way you operate, and I operate the way I operate," she replied, sarcastically polite. She opened a songbook on the book rest for the piano, turning the pages quickly. "Here we are," she started to play and sing, belting out the notes so even the neighbors could here them. "Good mornin', good mornin'. We've talked the whole night through. Good mornin', good mornin' to you."

"Who is playing this early in the morning?" B.A. groaned, trudging down the stairs.

"Who else?" Hannibal laughed.

Francesca continued, looking back at B.A., "Good mornin', good mornin'. It's great to stay up late. Good mornin', good mornin' to you."

"Francesca!" Face yelled down the steps. "What the hell!"

"When-" Francesca began.

Face interrupted, "Oh, shut up.

"You're just jealous," Francesca stopped playing. "Now, where's my favorite?"

"Here he is!" Murdock slid down the banister and flashed a grin.

Getting up, Francesca went to help Polly in the kitchen, "So boys, please sit down on the couch."

They all sat down. Hannibal came around to the back of the couch and leaned over. Francesca came in with a stack of manila folders, tossing one to each boy, "Here's the scoop."

"Edward McDonald the third?" Face raised an eyebrow.

"For now," Francesca lowered her eyes. "Murdock and I did research last night. I did some analyzing of the paper, concluded it's from a non-American source, but was handled by an American. Therefore, something is going on within the American system. A deal under the table."

"But why do they want us involved?" Face frowned.

"Well, I'm going to tell you. We've been attacked by several different people. Most, if not all, are in a conspiracy against the United States government."

"How'd you figure that out?" B.A. questioned, unsure of her sources.

Francesca grinned, "That's where the real genius comes in. This sheet of paper," she held out the letter acquired from her earlier attacker. "This sheet has an encrypted code on the back. It's basically being tracked. However, it takes a skilled hacker to understand that if something is being tracked, there are ways to find who is tracking it. I was able to figure out that this belongs to a banking company, located in Southern Mongolia. I use the term banking very loosely. These people have insiders in the US government who steal millions of dollars dedicated to spending bills."

"How is that money not missed?" Face leaned forward, folding his hands.

"Wait to react," Francesca held out her hands. "The money is replaced with counterfeit bills. However, the money stolen from the government is being sent to this bank, which is then loaned out to countries in cahoots against the United States."

The four men were silent. Murdock had a big smile pasted on his face. Francesca brought her hands down, "You can react now."

"Are you shitting me?" Face stood up.

Francesca shook her head, "I am not shitting you."

"Are there more engraving plates?" B.A. clenched his knuckles.

Francesca pointed to him, "Bingo!"

Hannibal shook his head, "Impossible."

"Not when you've had people working on this for twenty years," Francesca crossed her arms.

Polly leaned out to look through the door, "Breakfast time!"

"Excellent," Francesca clapped her hands. "After breakfast, we work."

Murdock was the only one that got up and followed her into the kitchen. The others stood their in astonishment and dismay. Francesca popped her head back into the room, "Oh my God, get over it already."

Hannibal looked to her, "Do you not get it? We've spent the past seven months on this damn thing and now you're telling me that it's not over?"

Francesca swallowed, "It's only just begun."

"This is the reason that we are convicts, Francesca."

"Good, then it gives you a second chance, doesn't it? A third chance, actually," Francesca spat. "Don't play dumb. It's the only motive that makes sense." She glanced over at the other boys, "Do you guys want coffee, juice, or milk?"

Face took a deep breath, "Skim milk?"

Francesca smiled, "Of course."