Another late chapter! I'm so sorry guys. A combination of writer's block and summer fever have caught up to me.

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Francesca stared out the back of the van as B.A. pressed down on the gas. The car behind them sped up slowly. "I really don't like her," she crossed her arms.

Face looked back, "Try dating her."

She glanced at him with a smirk on her face, but decided against speaking to him. "Just head toward the airport. The plane will be waiting, I'm sure. Meanwhile…" Francesca reached for a bag and unzipped it quickly, "Face, put on this fake nose." She pulled out a bag with the prosthetic inside, then dangled it in front of his face. "Everything's there for you, bud."

Face groaned, "Do I have to?"

"Take the damn bag," Francesca laughed. The car surged forward again, making her fall in between the back seats, "Woah."

B.A. laughed, "Sorry, but the car is gaining."

Everyone looked back again to see Charisa's van tailgating them. "Brake," Hannibal ordered B.A. "We can survive with a damaged bumper," he continued.

"Whatever you say, boss," B.A. lifted his hands off of the wheel and pushed down on the brake.

The other car smashed into their own. All of them could see the airbags piling up in their faces. "Move!" Murdock tapped B.A. on the shoulder.

"I'm going, I'm going," B.A. murmured and drove on again, merrily.

They arrived at the airport in good time and they all changed into more appropriate attire. Each of them separated in the lines, apart from Hannibal and Francesca who she had, indeed, conveniently made married. Making their way to the gate, Francesca smiled, "You know your bio, right?"

"Enough of it."

"Oh, please," Francesca scoffed. "You can never know enough about the person you're impersonating."

He grinned, "I know that my name is Robert Brent and that I'm a conservative politician who is being investigated on suspicions of money laundering. Meanwhile, I'm married to Roselle Neville, former French debutante…you." He poked her shoulder, "Is that enough?"

"You have to be able to talk to people and discuss your life," Francesca frowned. "For instance, if someone asked you 'Have you visited the house in Normandy recently?' you wouldn't know which house they were talking about because," Francesca saw their gate up ahead and pursed her lips, "You didn't do the research. Luckily…you have me. And I did."

Hannibal frowned, "So have we visited the house in Normandy lately?"

She laughed to herself, "Well, I have."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he paused.

"Oh…" Francesca collapsed on one of the chairs. "It just means that I'm a bit more tricky than you know."

"I still…" he sat down beside her and then realized. "You're cheating on me! Oh my God."

"Sh! Pipe down," she hit his arm and giggled. "What are you so aggravated about? It's just a little game, isn't it?"

Hannibal still felt overcome with shock, "I don't believe it. Who are you cheating with?"

"Don't make me say it," she bit her lip, but subconsciously wanted to spill all of the secrets that she knew of the politician's wife.

He smiled, "Come on, this is so fun."

"Alright, if you must know…" Francesca fiddled with her skirt. "Edward McD-"

"Wait! With Face?"

"You didn't let me finish," she pinched his arm quickly. "Edward McDonald's twin."

Hannibal searched for names in his mind until he came across the final one. His eyes widened, "Eliza McDonald."

"Roselle is an in the closet bisexual," Francesca mumbled.

They exchanged a small glance, one which conveyed a sweet sense of friendship as well as cautiousness.

"Now boarding group 'A', one to thirty-one."

"That would be us," Francesca rose.

Hannibal followed closely behind her as they boarded the plain slowly, but surely, and founded their seats toward the front of the cabin. Francesca quietly pulled out an empty notebook. She pressed a pen onto the page, thinking about writing, but not actually doing so.

Watching her closely, Hannibal observed the pen creating a deep indent in the page that would certainly be seen on the following twenty. Francesca dropped the pen in her lap and closed her eyes. Eventually, she fell asleep after take off and leaned onto Hannibal's arm. There was a stillness and silent anxiety within him. His heart raced and he refused to move once muscle, afraid to wake the sleeping beauty.

Flashback

"So there's just a dead guy sitting there," Francesca pointed to the man in the corner. "Who tried to kill you…"

"We should probably leave," Hannibal grabbed her arm and tugged her down the staircase.

Francesca worriedly looked around, "You think there are more."

"Of course," Hannibal rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't go alone to attack…"

She raised an eyebrow, "Attack whom?"

"Attack…me," he said in a quiet fashion.

Crossing her arms, she smiled, "He may very well have been attacking me."

He shook his head, "It was me."

"You just want to be special," she laughed. "Now come on, my car is parked nearby."

They ran through the woods surrounding the cabin toward her black car. It was absolutely thrilling, the idea of being caught, but at the same time, absolutely frightening. If there were really more people ready to attack, it'd be awhile before they'd be safe. Francesca jumped into the car followed by Hannibal. They both started to relax after a few minutes. Francesca started to put the keys into the ignition, but noticed her hands shake. She quickly flinched back.

"You okay?" Hannibal looked to her with a frown.

Francesca didn't know what had gotten into her. A little fight never scared her, so what was it now? "Yeah," she said quietly.

"You sure?" he asked, alarmed.

She nodded quickly and then forced herself to start the car.

"Are you scared?"

"No! Stop asking!" she shouted, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Francesca," Hannibal interjected. "You're obviously not okay."

Biting her lip, she started to drive, "I think I'd be better if we stopped talking about me."

He turned away and peered out the window to check if there was anyone following them, "We're safe, by the way."

"Yeah," she lowered her head and turned onto the main road. There was a lot of busy traffic. "You want to go get some dinner?"

Hannibal shrugged, "I suppose."

Francesca pulled the car into the parking lot of a bar and took the keys out of the ignition. She stayed silent for a moment, her fingers shifting on the wheel.

Hannibal sighed.

They both said simultaneously, "I'm sorry." There was a pause and then they laughed quietly.

"What are you sorry about?" Francesca asked.

"I don't know," he smiled. "I just thought it would help." Hannibal leaned toward her, "What are you sorry about?"

She pursed her lips, "I'm sorry because you did absolutely nothing wrong and I'm just being emotional."

He put his hand on hers and rubbed it slowly, "It's about Tommy isn't it?"

"Yeah," Francesca tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "Um…but I don't want to think about that right now."

"Okay," he smiled.

Francesca turned and kissed him lightly on the lips. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to call it a night."

"That's fine," Hannibal turned to get out of the car. "I'll just get a cab."

Touching his arm, Francesca pulled him back for a moment, "I'm so sorry."

"Think nothing of it," he smiled at her and kissed her forehead. Francesca put her hands against his neck and kept him against her.

"Why is it that whenever I am given an opportunity at happiness I just screw it all up?" she whispered against his skin.

"Well," Hannibal started, keeping his arms around her in a tight embrace. "Maybe it's because you don't think you should be happy."

Francesca replied, "I guess."

"You think it should be you."

"Yeah, I do."

"But I want to be happy."

"Then stop blaming yourself."

A few tears fell from her eyes and she pulled back from him, trying to hide the tears, "I don't know how."

"You have to see the big picture," he turned away and looked out through the windshield. It had begun to rain. "You couldn't have prevented cancer. No one could and it's not about deserving it or not. It happened, it's done. Francesca, you shouldn't be upset about what you can't change."

Francesca didn't reply.

"And he doesn't expect you to cry over him," Hannibal ran his fingers through her hair. "He wants you to go live out your life," he smiled. "So do it."

Smiling, Francesca leaned back in her seat, "You want to stay, then?"

Hannibal grinned, "I'd like that very much."

End Flashback

After landing in Brazil, the team made their way to the Copacabana. Francesca was still droopy eyed after relaxing on Hannibal's shoulder for practically the entire flight. She started mumbling to herself about dying her hair or something like that. While they walked, Face and B.A. sidled up to Hannibal.

"So…how was the plane ride?" Face asked in a casual tone.

"Fine," Hannibal kept walking forward without any falter due to his meddling friends.

"Anything happen?" B.A. prodded further.

"No," Hannibal rolled his eyes. "Can you lay off? She'll get suspicious."

B.A. laughed, "Hey, don't worry, bossman. We've got Murdock on the case."

Hannibal looked back to see Murdock prodding at Francesca's neck. She tried to stifle a laugh. She was ticklish around her collar and Murdock had found that out quite quickly after he began applying distraction for Face and B.A. "Nothing happened," he sighed. "Nothing will happen."

"Why are you so shy when it comes to girls? They're just girls," Face frowned

"No," Hannibal scornfully turned his head away. "Women are much more than just girls."

Face turned away and made a face, repeating the words Hannibal had just said with a mocking tone.

B.A. put his arm around Hannibal's shoulders, "C'mon, don't give up on her."

He frowned, "It's just a lot of work."

"More work than eight years of missions?" Face asked. "Really?"

Shaking his head, Hannibal said, "You can't really compare the two situations."

"Yes, you absolutely can," Face retorted. "Think of love as a mission. What could me more of a battlefield than love itself?"

"A battlefield," Hannibal snapped and walked faster.

B.A. caught up and laughed, "Look, forget about what Face is saying. He knows nothing."

"What are you talking about?" Face gasped. "Do you realize that's what I do best?"

"You're not very good at keeping them around, are you?" the burly man poked aggressively at Face.

Face stayed silent and listened to the other two talk.

"What you've got to do is just be the guy she fell in love with, but make it very obvious that you are available to only her," B.A. stated. "Simple." He then turned around, "Hey, Murdock!"

The pilot looked up from what he was doing, "Yeah?"

He started to jog away from the group, "Bet I can beat you to the hotel."

Murdock started to jog away from Francesca, "No. You can't!"

"I'm beating you now!" B.A. winked at Hannibal. "Good luck, boss."

Face joined into the race as they broke off around the corner. Hannibal stopped in the sidewalk and looked back at Francesca who was walking toward him, smiling, "Hi."

"Hey," Hannibal shoved his hands in his pocket.

They walked in silence to the hotel. Each of them stole glances at the other, making sure to avoid eye contact. Neither knew what the other was feeling. But both of them wanted to know desperately. The secrets they were hiding were the same.