Francesca pulled out a light brown box from beneath the bed. She put it on her pink sheets and pushed some tears from her eyes. Jumping up on the bed, she opened the box and stared into the colorful mess.

She reached in and took out a photo.

The picture detailed a moment from six years ago. Six years ago when she was in love, footloose and fancy-free. Two smoke covered faces stared back at her with grins. It was herself and Hannibal. They both held a cigarette or cigar, respectively. He had his arm around her and all she could remember was the ecstasy of that.

Francesca growled at the picture, "You bastard." And then she ripped the picture in half and screamed nonsense. She lost her breath, tears falling faster down her cheeks. She choked out, "Bast…ard."

She let herself collapse on the bed, listening to the beat of Face, Murdock, and Hannibal pounding on her door.

Seven hours later, Francesca rose to find it dark outside her window. She heard a quiet tapping on her door, "Grace Kelly, Harlow Jean, pictures of a beauty queen. Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire-"

Francesca smiled meekly and rose from the bed. Opening the door, she rolled her eyes, "Who's singing Vogue outside my bedroom door?"

Murdock looked up at her from his cross legged position on the ground, "Hey! You came out. Finally."

"How long have you been out here?" she raised her eyebrows.

" Not long… two hours, tops," Murdock stood up.

Francesca sighed, "Oh, just two hours?"

"I'm very patient."

"Do you want to come in?" she touched the doorframe.

He smiled at her, "Yeah."

Francesca let him walk in and then shut the door behind them.

"So I heard what he said," Murdock's eyes gravitated toward the ripped picture. "And… you know he doesn't mean it."

She frowned, "Murdock, this would be necessary if I was dating him. Intervention isn't important."

"But…" he trailed off.

Francesca watched him go to the picture and pick up the pieces, "You're in love with him."

"And that would be a negative," she laughed awkwardly. "And this conversation is over."

"It's obvious."

"It would be if I was in love with him, but I am not."

"Look at you, brooding over a little comment."

"If you were put in my position you would brood as well."

Murdock went silent, "You've loved him for a long time and you want him to realize that. He told me about Face and his flirting."

"Well, maybe I like Face."

"But you don't, I mean… Face? Really?" Murdock scoffed.

Francesca shook her head, "Look, just leave."

"No!"

"Yes, leave! You're making this worse. Just worse," she lowered her head.

He was quiet and sat on the bed. "I'm not going."

"Yes you are!" she screeched and took his arm, yanking him up off the bed. "Please, I am not in the mood for you to be like this."

Murdock pulled back anxiously, "I think you may want to reassess the situation."

"Murdock, go make yourself useful. Go get drunk, eat a pint of ice cream, shave off B.A.'s Mohawk. I don't care," she pushed him out the door. "But of all of those things, leave me alone!"

Francesca slammed the door shut, sighing. She decided to get a shower, but stayed in the bath for about twenty minutes. When she got out, she dried off, and wrapped the towel around her. All she wanted was sleep and get away from her life for a bit. She looked at her reflection in the foggy mirror, touching her hairline. A few small red bumps had started forming. "I thought I was done with zits when I left high school," she smirked, then pulled some of her wet hair in front of the zits. Walking out of the bathroom adjoined to her bedroom, she hummed a succession of random notes and looked into her vanity mirror. She screamed at the reflection, "Face, what the fu-"

"Hey," Face grinned, reclining on her bed. "Caught you at a good time, didn't I?"

"Do you mean with a towel wrapped around me and freshly showered? That's a good time?" Francesca growled, examining his half naked body and very calm nature.

He shrugged, "Yeah, it makes everything easier."

"Easier? You think I'm going to have sex with you? Is it not clear I do not want you in my room?"

"Francesca, be reasonable."

"Reasonable has nothing to do with it," she huffed, pulling the towel tighter around her. "You're absolutely disgusting and if you think for one second I will consider sleeping with you then-"

He rolled over onto his side, "Chill out. You're getting to uptight. I mean you told me a little while ago that you were a one-night-stand type of girl. And we're alone in your teenage bedroom… a little kinky…"

Francesca rolled her eyes and pulled open a dresser drawer, "Unbelievable. Fine. You can stay here, but nothing is happening. I'm not going to touch you or even look at you." She turned into her bathroom and slipped on her spaghetti strap night dress that went down to mid-thigh with lace trim. She knew what a mistake it was but didn't give a crap anymore. Going back into her room, Francesca crossed her arms, "I'm going to lie down beside you and you're going to be respectful and not touch me while I sleep. Clear?"

"Fine," Face smiled in a sarcastic way, giving her the up-down.

She climbed into bed and slipped the sheets over her shoulders. Turning off the light, Francesca said definitively, "Goodnight."

"Night."

After a few minutes of silence her eyes shot open. His breathing was calm. "Are you still awake?" she asked.

Face replied, "Yep."

Francesca turned to look at him, "So anyway…"

"Thank God," he destroyed the space between them and kissed her deeply.

Francesca let him roll on top of her as they kissed furiously for awhile. His skin was warm and almost burned her cold hands. Pulling away, Francesca stared at the ceiling. Face buried his face in her neck, pressing his lips to her light skin. He started to pull down the straps of her nightgown, but Francesca stopped him.

"Face, are you wearing-" she sneezed suddenly, her eyes watering. The overwhelming sent of cologne tickled her nose.

Face lifted his head, his hair falling over his eyes, "What?"

"Do you have on some sort of cologne or… or perhaps-" she looked to her arm which looked red. "Ow…"

Face raised an eyebrow, "What's wrong?"

Francesca pushed him off of her, "I'm allergic to your cologne!" She started scratching, "What is that?"

"It's just some…"

"Just leave," she laughed. "Go away before I can't breathe,"

Sighing, Face shrugged, "Second base. Good enough."

Francesca scratched her arms, "Oy, Face…"

"I'm leaving!" he held up his hands in defeat and left quickly.

Flashback

Francesca walked out onto the terrace of the Italian villa, holding two plates full of food. She put the plates on the glass table that overlooked the water. She smiled and looked back, "You forgot something."

Hannibal was trying to close the sliding glass door behind him with his foot, his hands full, "What did I forget?"

"You have cups?" Francesca laughed, and walked over to him. "I'll get them."

"Thanks," he rolled his eyes.

She walked past him and went to go get a few glasses. Hannibal placed the bottle, napkins and silverware on the table, carefully examining the set up. Francesca had set out a vase of red roses and baby's breath. "Sit down," Francesca called from the door, holding two wine glasses.

"I will, don't push me," he smiled and sat in the chair.

Francesca walked over, putting a glass down at each place setting. She looked at him from the corner of her eye. He was unshaven, unkempt, but perfectly flawed at that moment. While she, in Hannibal's eyes, was a vision in light blue.

"Well, eat," she sat down, folding her hands. "I hope it's good."

They both ate in silence for a few moments. "Oh my God," Hannibal's eyes gravitated to her. "This is awesome."

"Thank god, I didn't want to say and you not like it," Francesca covered her mouth, still chewing.

He chuckled, "No, it's great."

She smiled and rolled her eyes, "I do pride myself on my cooking ability if anything." Francesca picked up the bottle of wine and poured it into the glasses. "And now…" she put down the bottle and picked up her glass. "To my Italia, si?"

"You put a bit more wine in your glass than mine," Hannibal said in a nitpicky way, smiling.

"Ruined my toast, dumbass," Francesca giggled before taking a gulp of the wine.

Hannibal grinned, "I know, I know."

They ate and talked for two hours at a leisurely pace. Finally, when they were finished, Francesca stood up from the table and took him by the hand, "Let's take a walk."

He looked at her surprised, "But…"

"No sex on a full stomach, darling," Francesca helped him up, wrapping her hand around his bicep. She led him down the dock that connected to the house, "What are you thinking?"

"Wow, tough question."

"Really?" Francesca looked up at him. "Then that makes more of reason to tell me."

He looked over at her, kissed the top of her head, "Well, whataya think I'm thinking about?"

Francesca's heart fluttered. She desperately wanted to say 'me'. But she knew in her heart what was true, "Saving the world, yes?"

"Kinda," Hannibal listened to the swaying of the water.

She kicked off her shoes and slipped away, "I want to go in the water."

"I'll look on from afar." Hannibal stared at her back while she took off her dress, "Can't people see you?"

"Everyone does it," Francesca looked back in a flirtatious manner and shrugged.

He had never really looked at her back until now. It was so elegantly smooth, a few beauty marks across her left shoulder and a small scar on her lower back, "Let's just head inside."

"You'll miss out," she got ready to jump in. "Come now."

Hannibal crossed his arms, "Go play."

"I'm such a child," Francesca said and then did a cannonball into the water. The warm water splashed Hannibal. She reached the surface quickly and laughed, "You want to save the world, but you're scared of a little water."

"I'm not in the mood to get wet," he laughed, stepping forward.

Francesca turned and said in a sing-song voice, "I need someone to save me…"

"Francesca-"

"Is there a big, strong man who could save me?" she widened her doe eyes. "Maybe an army ranger." They both were quiet for a minute. "Help me…" she smiled crookedly and then dove under the water.

Hannibal hung his head, smiling, "Oh, Checka."

He took off his shoes and then his shirt. Then, he dove in after her.

The water was so clear he could see her a little deeper in the water. Francesca opened her eyes and smiled at him. He swam to meet her, wrapping her in his arms.

Francesca kissed him deeply, but pulled away pointing to the surface. Hannibal nodded. They bobbed at the top of the water breathing heavily. "That was so much sexier in my head," she laughed.

He nodded, "Well, we could try again."

Breathing for a few more seconds, Francesca smiled, "Let's go." They took deep breaths before diving under the water. Both swam down for a time before reaching for one another. They kissed, limbs intertwining. Francesca's hair engulfed Hannibal's face in a bath of gold. They come up again, breathing heavily and then laughing. Francesca put her arms around his neck, trying to keep the weight off of him while treading water. "Swimming of a full stomach. I'm an idiot. Let's go."

"Thank goodness," he kissed her on the lips and they swam to the dock where a wooden ladder gracefully waited for them. They tried to get to the house but Francesca collapsed near the terrace. Hannibal took advantage of that situation and lowered himself over her, kissing her neck.

She ran her fingers through his hair, "Oh my god."

He murmured, "You are so beautiful."

Francesca quietly whispered, "Thank you." Bewilderment fell across her face as he continued to kiss and caress. She didn't let it hinder her for too long.

Later, Hannibal and Francesca lay side by side, trying to catch their breath again. "Wow," Francesca gasped.

"Good, bad? Ugly?" he chuckled.

"Awesome," Francesca basked in the red glow of exquisite ecstasy.

Hannibal looked over at her with a smug smile. Mission accomplished.

End Flashback

Francesca had finally found when a loud pounding came from the bedroom door. She shot up from the bed, frowned, and growled, "Who's there?"

"Open the damn door!" B.A. shouted.

Francesca got out of bed and opened the door, "What the hell-" She noticed his bald head and gasped, stifling a laugh, "Your head."

He shoved Murdock forward, "He said you told him to do it?"

"He was sleeping, it was perfect," Murdock shrugged.

"I did not tell you to do this!" she shouted.

Murdock nodded, "You said make yourself useful and-"

"No one can take a damn joke anymore, can they?" Francesca yelled. "Look, it's his fault that he shaved your hair off not mine."

"What's going on?" Hannibal's voice came from down the hall.

"Please, I just want to sleep," Francesca felt tears pricking her eyes.

B.A. pointed to his head, "How can you sleep when this is on your mind?"

"I can sleep just fine," some tears streamed down her face. "Now leave me alone."

The two went silent as Hannibal walked over. He watched Francesca quickly look away from him and then go to the bed. He then looked to Murdock and B.A., raising an eyebrow. He whispered, "Look who's making her cry now?"

They both took the hint and walked back to the room the boys were sharing. Hannibal closed the door behind him. "You okay?"

"Do I look okay?" Francesca turned back to him, throwing her hands in the air.

Hannibal shook his head slowly.

She pushed her tears away, "I just want to be left alone."

"You're like Greta Garbo," he smirked.

Francesca smiled through her tears, "I guess."

They both were quiet. Hannibal tried to catch her eyes with his own and when he did, she always tried to look away again. "Francesca…" he stepped forward. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just did."

Francesca stared at him for a long moment and then said calmly, "I know you didn't." Suddenly, she walked to him, touched his cheeks, and whispered, "I know."

Hannibal swallowed awkwardly, feeling her touch. He gently slid his hands around her waist. Then, dragged his hand across her stomach, reaching for the hem of her dress, but stopped when he felt an indent in her skin. He pulled away, tracing his fingers across the dent again.

Francesca took his hand, "What's wrong?"

"How did that happen?" he recalled the purple and red scar he had seen during their reunion in the old shack.

She pursed her lips, "Sit down."

They sat on the end of the bed, Francesca leaned on him. "The day you left. A few minutes after you left…A man came to the door and he was threatening me, asking me where you were. And I refused to say. He got a call, I tried to hit him over the head with something and…and he realized what I was doing, shot me, and I don't remember anything else, really."

Hannibal's face fell. He could have prevented that. Minutes were between him leaving and her being shot. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there…" he bit his lip.

"You wanted to leave… and I couldn't stop that. Nothing could."

"No, I really could've," he nodded. Then, he started to kiss her on the lips, running his fingers through her hair, and not thinking.

Francesca felt a wave of shock pass over her, but accepted the kiss passionately. Suddenly, he jumped off the bed and rambled, "Well, it's late and I need to sleep. Big day tomorrow… yes? Yeah. Goodnight."

She looked up at him with longing in her eyes, "Goodnight?"

Hannibal breathed in, "Right." He left then.

Francesca frowned quizzically. She collapsed back on the bed. Every member had been in her bedroom that night and she had kissed two of them.