Oy, writer's block again. Oh well. I'm aiming to please. Now we've got this established relationship, what can I do to mess with it? Keep reading and reviewing guys! Love ya!

Hannibal tilted Francesca's head upward delicately with his hand and pressed his lips to hers again. Elation filled both of them. As she broke the kiss, Francesca smiled, "I can't believe that you actually…"

"I know. I can't believe it either."

Leaning her head down onto his chest and wrapping her arms around his neck, she sighed blissfully, "Where do we go from here?"

Hannibal frowned, "I don't really know."

"Because…" Francesca swallowed. "We kinda just jumped to the 'I love you' part. Skipped everything else."

"Is that a bad thing?" he looked down at her.

"I don't really know," she smiled. "When did you know?"

He bit his lip, "Know what?"

"That you loved me," Francesca raised her head. Their eyes met in the darkness. She felt herself flush. "I mean…You know when I did."

"I guess I loved you for awhile and I didn't really know it," Hannibal murmured with a little hesitation.

Francesca took one of her hands and put it against his chest with a smile crossing her face. "This is so weird," she looked away, laughing lightly.

"Why?"

"Because you never gush over anything," she giggled.

"I'm not gushing!" Hannibal scoffed.

"Yeah, you are!" Francesca shot back. Hooking her arms around his neck, she lifted herself onto her tippy-toes and said in a calm and sensual manner, "Don't worry…I like it."

Hannibal laughed, pulling her up off of her feet. She screeched in surprise and then rest comfortably in his arms after hooking her legs around his back. Francesca gave him a firm kiss on the lips, feeling her inhibitions slip away. "Now, put me down," she smiled.

"Well, if you say so," he shrugged.

"Oh, no, please not-" Francesca worriedly exclaimed as he dropped her onto the bed gently. She started to laugh. "God, I hate you."

Hannibal didn't reply, shaking off his coat. Then, he unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves and rolled them up to the crook of his elbow. Francesca sat up slowly and pushed herself further back on the bed. He looked to her with a shy smirk, "You know, the boys are the one that convinced me to tell you."

"Well, then you're forever in their debt then," Francesca smiled delicately to him. A feeling of assurance and absolutely pure love filled her as she looked at him. His arms were crossed against his chest, looking down at the ground, almost in an embarrassed fashion, and his hair was in his eyes, too long and too…brown. She loved his grey hair, how mature he looked. And he loved her. The more she thought about it the more she tingled on the inside and that made her want to scream out that he was hers. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking about how right you are," he lifted his head, looking at her.

Francesca crawled forward on the bed. She knelt in front of him and cocked her head to the side, "I love you, John." She put her hands on either side of his face, "You're lucky to have friends who care so much about you. Who care so much about me, I suppose. And honestly, they were indebted to you for getting them out of all that crazy shit they cause."

Hannibal blushed and touched her wrist with the tips of his fingers, "I love you."

"I never thought I'd get those words out of you, let alone twice in one evening," Francesca brushed some of his hair away from his eyes.

Leaning down, Hannibal kissed her zealously. Passion had been burning inside of him for a long time. Francesca ran her hands down his chest searching for buttons that she could undo. Suddenly, she fell back in submission to him, which he gladly accepted. However, he was a little confused by her outfit and how exactly it came off.

"Really?" Francesca rested her head on the bed. "You can't just rip it off of me or something?"

Hannibal frowned in an amused fashion, "Contrary to popular belief…"

She took it off quickly as he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and they met again in a fervent kiss. "It's been way too long, John," Francesca moaned breathlessly. "Five entire years…"

"Well," he straddled her proudly and slipped his hands through her hair. "It's not over yet."

Flashback

"Intensely intriguing?" Hannibal smiled. "Now which of my features do I owe that comment to?"

Francesca bit her lip, "Every single one of them." She then laughed, "I love Rio. I love…everything."

"You sound a little drunk," he burrowed his face in the crook of her neck.

"I am," she said. "I am a little drunk."

"You're a silly drunk."

"Do you like it?" she lifted her head worriedly. "Because I can be mean drunk, horny drunk, or all of the above drunk."

Hannibal put his finger against her lips and stifled her speech, "I think you need to be a quiet drunk."

"I don't know if I can do that," she giggled. "I'm not even that drunk," Francesca sighed.

He rested his head next o yours, embracing her. He then murmured in her ear, "Why do you like me?"

She stayed quiet.

"Like…why do you keep coming back? I'm just an older man who is intimidating and…I don't know what else I am. But no one should be enticed by me at all," he continued quietly in her ear.

She turned her face toward his and gave him a soft and small kiss. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. Francesca opened her mouth slowly like was going to say something, but then closed it. That did not go unnoticed by Hannibal. "What?" he asked her, letting his lips seductively drag across her jaw.

"I don't know."

He smiled, "You know."

Francesca felt her breath catch in her throat. Her eyes were wide as she turned her head to look at him. "I keep coming back because," she paused and then continued. "I keep coming back because I love you…very much." Before Hannibal could even respond, she pressed her lips to his, making sure that his words could not be heard. She reached down, slipping her hand through his hair.

Hannibal didn't know how to react. Luckily for him, Francesca was quick enough to shut up his probable stuttering.

And the next thing he knew, she was on top of him, biting his lower lip, kicking off her heels. He grabbed her shoulders, forcibly pulling away her lips.

Their eyes met. He swallowed once, gulped was actually the more appropriate word.

Because the words were trapped in his throat.

I love you. Very much.

Hannibal felt warmth inside of him, but at the same time and inexplicable grave cold that wavered up and down his throat.

He loved her. Very much.

But he wasn't just about to go right out and say that.

"I'm sorry," Francesca whispered. She felt like she was going to cry. She put her hands on either side of his head and sifted the yellow sand through them. "I'm really…sorry," she looked down her chest and then stood up, one foot between his legs. "I'm going to go back to the hotel."

Francesca then took of quickly. Hannibal didn't even get a chance to sit up and look down the beach before she was gone. He folded his knees up to his chest and looked out over the dark and dank waters.

He stood up slowly and walked back to the hotel with his hands in his pockets.

What should he say to her?

Nothing. He didn't want to say anything to her.

I have to say something. What can I say?

Hannibal didn't want her to hurt. He had no intention of hurting her.

I love her.

He ran into the hotel and then froze. He didn't know her room number. All that time he was being romantic and mysterious he had forgotten about that. He didn't think that he'd be the one chasing after her that evening.

Simply, he went up to the hotel desk and asked.

"Room 312," the man at the front desk said with weary eyes.

Hannibal sprinted up to the room and knocked. He waited. The door opened. Francesca was standing there in a robe, obviously naked beneath it. She had an odd smile on her face and her hair was wild.

"What happened to you? Stick your finger in an electric socket or something?"

"I was just about to take a shower," she started to untie the belt that kept the fabric together. "Care to join me?"

"What's going on?"

Francesca turned her head slowly toward the bathroom, "Okay, you either say yes or you leave."

Hannibal knew he should say no, but how could he say no to that situation?

End Flashback

Francesca and Hannibal lay side by side. They were both breathing heavily, looking up at the ceiling. And they both had stupid smiles on their face.

"Well, then…" Hannibal began, clearing out his throat.

Francesca heaved a sigh and then turned her head to look at him. She reached her hand out and pushed some sweaty strands of hair out of his eyes. Hannibal met her gaze and smiled at her.

Blushing, Francesca looked back at the ceiling. "You're fantastic…" she closed her eyes.

"I hope you're not just saying that because you just had the best sex of your life," Hannibal said smugly.

"Please," Francesca rolled over to him and rested her hand on his chest. "You are far too confident in your abilities." She kissed his cheek, "I love you."

Hannibal pressed his lips to hers for a moment and then wrapped his arms around her shoulder, "I'm confident because it's true."

Francesca started laughing and murmured, "Alright, it may be true. But you're fantastic because you are sweet and you're brave and you love me back."

"I don't know…" he said sarcastically.

"I'll never have sex with you ever again," Francesca burrowed her face in his neck.

"Oh, I'm just kidding."

They were both silent for a long time before Francesca called out his name, "John?"

"Yes, darling."

"What if this is all just s dream?" her lips traced across his skin. "What if I wake up and you're gone?"

"I'm not going to be gone," he assured her. "I'm never going to leave you like that again."

Francesca reached out for one of his hands and grabbed his hand, "Would you ever marry me, John?"

Hannibal closed his eyes. He could picture in his mind a future with Francesca. He could see waking up next to her and coming home to her. Laughing with her. Kissing her goodnight. Protecting her. And most of all, getting those glances that he always noticed couples giving one another. Those knowing glances. He had wanted that for a very long time, but it had become so unattainable.

"Yes. Would you marry me?"

"Is that a proposal?" Francesca lifted herself up off the bed. "But yes, I would." Then, she groaned, "I'm really sore."

He chuckled and turned onto his side, "You're welcome."

"Shut up!" she spat with a smile on her face. "You're ridiculous."

Hannibal put his hand around the side of her neck, catching some of her untamed golden hair. "I'm not ridiculous."

"Right," she rolled her eyes. "You're in love."

"Fair enough."

Francesca smiled at him endearingly and then bit her lip, "I'm so confused."

"About what?"

"Well, what do we have to do? To get to that point, you know?"

"The point where you don't get sore from sex or…"

Francesca, though she found it funny, whapped him on the arm softly and then stuck her tongue out at him.

"Hey!"

"I mean marriage."

Hannibal was quiet for a moment. All those ideas that he had just gotten vanished. Marriage was now again a foreign word that scared him. "I don't know."

"I'm scaring you, aren't I?" Francesca frowned. "I'm moving to fast," she lowered her face to his chest. "I'll slow down." She started to talk over his silence, "I used to think I'd end up alone. I never thought I'd find…another guy I loved as much as you. I never thought I'd find anyone I-"

Hannibal turned his head toward the door, "Do you hear that?"

Francesca went silent, lifting her head.

Faint voices were coming form outside the door. The light danced beneath the door frame. Shadows. Francesca sat up, very frightened. She pulled up the covers against her chest. "Who do you think it is?"

Sitting up, Hannibal reached out for her hand, "Relax." He found it in the darkness and sighed, "I think it's Face."

The door knob started to rattle. Francesca folded her legs against her chest as Hannibal broke his grasp and searched around the ground next to the bed for clothes. The door swung open revealing Face standing with Eliza. She looked angered, fire definitely burning in her eyes. "Don't make any sudden movements," she leered, "I have a gun."

Hannibal pulled his boxers up just in time to freeze beside the bed. Francesca pulled more covers up around her.

Face looked between the two of them, his mind was on fire. He tried to get past the awkwardness with his stern words, "Don't move."

"I won't," Francesca squeaked and leaned against the headboard of the bed.

Pulling out a gun from his coat, Face sucked in his lower lip, "Get up."

She pulled the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around herself, getting up.

Eliza laughed, "I have to admit, you are a fantastic kisser."

"Thank you," Francesca smiled.

She approached Francesca holding the gun out, "You actually had me fooled for a little bit. Even with the nose. Yours is a bit too big, darling."

"At least you put it kindly," she swallowed. "Do you mind if I get dressed?"

"I do, actually," Eliza pressed the barrel of the gun to her neck. Hannibal worriedly looked over at Francesca who barely flinched. "Edward, keep a look out on the big one, please."

The big one? Hannibal thought with a bit of disdain. Face approached him with a cautious look.

"You got lucky," Face smirked quietly.

Hannibal smiled slightly and then held up both of his arms in the act. "What can I say," he mumbled.

"So what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Francesca idly asked.

"Well, now that I know you're not Roselle and he's not Robert…I figured that you were after something that I pride myself upon," she explained with a leer. "And now I realize what's been going on. What you're after. So I decided that I better put a stop to it," Eliza licked her lips. "Not like anyone's going to miss you anyway."

Francesca pursed her lips, "Eliza, do you realize that if you get caught doing what you're doing…you'll get much worse of a punishment than we'll give you?"

"Trust us," Face chose that moment to turn his gun toward Eliza.

She turned, startled, "Edward…?"

"Wow, I didn't think this would actually work," Hannibal blurted out.

Francesca looked to Hannibal as her heart skipped a beat. "What?" she asked, disbelieving.

Anger settled in the room as he didn't reply. Eliza, still shocked took a few steps toward her 'brother', "Wait, Edward, you went against me?"

"I'm not Edward," Face rolled his eyes. "If that isn't painfully obvious to you yet."

An inaudible growl came from Eliza, "You must be Peck, then."

"Yes," he said proudly. "Now, if you wouldn't mind moving to the bed."

"Don't forget, I have a gun too," Eliza grinned.

Francesca threw caution to the wind and took the blanket around her and twisted it around Eliza's neck. "Drop it," she said through her clenched teeth.

Choking out a few words, Eliza let the gun fall from her hand. Face quickly went to pick it up and Eliza made a poor attempt to kick him in the face, but misdirected her foot and stubbed her toe.

Francesca quickly let her out of the sheet and pressed it back to her chest, "Alright, I've got to put on some clothes."

"And you," Face looked at Eliza. "Go against that wall, please," he gestured to the windowed wall. "Unless you want to make this really hard on yourself."