Guys. I'm so sorry this has taken so long. But with all my classes and theatre, I have been so busy. Now I'm back and I'm pretty sure I'll get the next installment out in at most two weeks. Promise.

So, please review and keep reading.

Love you all!

DG

Francesca picked up her jumpsuit and awkwardly went past Eliza and Face to change, all the while glaring at Hannibal. He sighed, slipping on his shirt. Face shuffled over to Eliza who rubbed her neck nervously.

"You're bastards," Eliza spat at Face as he came closer.

"I don't think you're in a position to speak to us like that," he murmured.

Hannibal crossed his arms, "So, Ms. McDonald. I hope you won't mind answering a few questions."

She stayed quiet. Her demeanor was calm, but they could all tell that she was furious.

"I'll take that as a no, that you won't mind answering our questions," he lowered his voice. "So where is this illegal outfit you've set up?"

"Mongolia," Eliza said quietly, feeling the prodding of Face's gun.

"Oh, we wouldn't be good at our jobs if we didn't know that," Hannibal lowered his voice. "Where in Mongolia, Miss McDonald?"

Francesca walked out of the bathroom, pulling her hair from her collar, "Oh, don't patronize her. She's not a child."

Hannibal looked back at her with an almost regretful glare. She didn't meet his eye as she approached Eliza, "What the hell have you been up to? You're just a socialite who dabbles in the illicit counterfeit."

"Miss Barrett…" Eliza rolled her eyes. Francesca was a little shocked she knew her name. "I'm not a socialite, I am simply a counterfeiter. That is all I do. I'm good at it."

"I suppose Edward is pretty good at it too," Face laughed quietly.

Eliza lifted her head slowly to reply, but instead kept to herself.

"Okay, Eliza," Francesca lowered her voice and leaned down toward her. "You're going to need to tell me everything if you want to get out of his with all of your fingers and your hair."

The interrogation continued. Francesca finally handed it over to the boys as she retreated into the bathroom, closed the door behind her, and collapsed onto the floor. Her scar was acting up again, her head pounding and her heart racing. She felt like crying.

The door creaked open slowly. Hannibal looked inside slowly, "Francesca…"

"Leave me alone," Francesca droned, bringing her knees up to her chest.

"No, I won't."

"Right now, I'm really not in the mood to talk. Honestly. Even if it wasn't you, I wouldn't take to that person, so please, just let me be for a time," Francesca started to rub her temples. "It would be greatly appreciated."

Hannibal stayed silent for a moment, examining her deconstructed form, "Alright, fine." He then slipped back out of the room and to the boys.

Francesca let tears fall from her eyes in the moments after, but quickly pushed them off of her cheeks. The door creaked open again. "Hannibal, please, I'm really not in the mood to talk."

"Francesca? "the voice was that of a man's, quiet and confused.

Her head shot up. She knew that voice. "Dave?" Francesca looked over at the towering man who now had cornered her in the bathroom. His hazel eyes glinted through the thick frames of his glasses.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you," he crouched down and reached out one of his tan hands toward her.

"What…are you doing here?" she gasped for air, her eyes widening with shock.

"Look, you've got to get out of here."

"What?"

"You've got to leave or I'm going to have to take you hostage, Francesca," he brushed one of his hands back through his black hair. "Please, don't make me do that."

Francesca shook her head, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Dave quietly reached into his back pocket and pulled out a gun, "Come on."

"John…" she tried to scream, but it only came out in a faint whisper. "How'd you get in here?"

"Just…snuck in. Everyone's so preoccupied with Eliza."

"Why are you doing this?" she choked out.

Suddenly, a raucous began in the other room. Francesca heard two new voices shouting in the other room. Her eyes widened, "You're working for them. Why are you working for them?"

Dave positioned his gun toward her with weary eyes and said calmly, "Get up off the ground."

Francesca obeyed, sliding up the wall, pressing her hands against the unwashed tile, "Dave, you're making a mistake."

"Be quiet," he said more sternly and louder. He reached out to her.

His grip was tight around her neck as he started pulling her out through the door. Francesca couldn't breathe. She knew he wasn't trying to choke her. At least she thought he wasn't trying.

Her phone slipped out of her back pocket onto the floor. Her eyes were watering like she had to sneeze. Francesca reached out, tried to kick him, but she couldn't feel her legs. Something was seriously wrong. She couldn't even move really. Her limp body just wailed in his arms for a moment before convulsing into a manner that almost resembled death.

In the room, Hannibal was trying to fend off one of the men, presumable the real Edward White, while Eliza pushed Murdock down onto bed. Face was trying to pry her hands off of Murdock who had become too stunned and angry to fend her off. B.A. was cornering the other man who, unfortunately, had more wit and less strength than B.A. did and could outsmart almost every move.

Suddenly, the fight was interrupted by a stiff call, "I've got her."

Hannibal lifted his head as the fight let up slowly. His attentive eyes only glimpsed the man who held Francesca around her rib cage, her unconscious body swaying in his arms. This image was quickly eclipsed by the punch he received.

Flashback

Francesca stepped out of the shower first, taking a towel off of the sink counter. Her breath was shallow and there was an unsure smile on her face. She hoped that he didn't really remember her little outburst only a little earlier. She looked back at the shower.

Hannibal had reached a hand out, leaning on the wall of the shower.

"You okay?" Francesca laughed a little.

Looking over at her, Hannibal pursed his lips tightly and grumbled, "Yeah." First, he was sore. Any amount of fucking could do that to a person. Second, he was still looking back on the 'I love you' and really scared him. He was frightened to listen to her talk again.

"Do you need some-"

"Hey, just settle down," he said, only half joking.

Francesca went to the door and leaned her head on the frame, "Okay." Instead of speaking, she looked over the man. Water dripped down his chest and his hair was still wet and matted. It hurt to look at him a little.

"Why don't you go into the other room? Relax or…something," he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against his hand.

Francesca blushed and ambled out of the room.

Hannibal sighed. What had he gotten himself into?

It had started with the raucous one night stand. Just sex. And then it started to become an affair, something they both reverted to in the singularity and loneliness. Now, it was love. She was in love with him.

He didn't know if he loved her, though. And even if he did, he wouldn't admit it. He'd never told anyone besides his own mother that he loved them. Hannibal stepped carefully out of the shower and reached out for another towel. From the other room, he could hear Francesca humming a simple song and walking around the room quickly.

Going into the next room, Hannibal found Francesca in a long sleeved, blue night shirt. She folded her arms across her chest and gave him a small smile.

"Yeah, I know," he blushed. "I'm wet and half naked and this towel is not nearly as big as I would like it to be."

She held out his boxers to him with a smirk, "Well, anyway…"

"Did you know that George Washington couldn't have children?" he interrupted, slipping on his boxers. He was desperate for conversation to avoid talking about the love bit.

"No, I didn't," Francesca frowned in a confused manner. "Why are you bringing that up?"

"I just thought it was an interesting fact," he mumbled.

"Right…" she sat down at the end of the bed. "Have you…ever been in l-"

Hannibal interrupted again, "And he was very upset about it."

"John," Francesca said quietly. "Stop avoiding the situation."

His face morphed into a crestfallen grimace.

"Have you ever been in love?"

"Well…" Hannibal sat down beside her. She wasn't asking about his love for her. It was a different love. Or so he assumed. "Um…once."

"Yeah?" there was a hopeful glint in her eye.

"Yeah."

Francesca looked at him, waiting for more information. "Oh," she blinked. "That's it. Once."

"Yeah. Once."

"You're…not gonna tell me about it?"

"Wasn't planning on it."

Francesca turned her head away, "Right. Okay."

There was a long, deep silence. Hannibal took in a deep breath. I should say something. I should ask her a question. Or something.

Francesca hated herself at that moment. He just wouldn't talk to her or anything. So what was the point of all the worry? It would continue on as it always had. Sex and alcohol. A few laughs…etcetera. She sucked in another breath. The air was thin, it seemed. Francesca wanted to speak, but her lips would not formulate words.

"It's a long story," Hannibal finally murmured

She didn't reply.

"It was sixteen years ago. I was…young," he recollected with an intense gaze at the opposite wall. "I had gone to the hospital to visit a friend and…there was this nurse. And we hit it off. It was just like a normal romance. And then I had to leave and she didn't want to wait around. So it was over."

Francesca smiled, "So it was…a relationship."

"Yeah."

"I mean…she must've been older than you."

Hannibal looked into his lap and ran his hand across his forehead.

"First, you get an older woman, now you're being chased by a younger woman. Are you satisfied yet?" Francesca looked away, almost half talking to herself.

"Francesca, you're a beautiful woman who I simply adore," Hannibal whispered. "But I cannot give you what you want."

End Flashback

Francesca lifted her eyelids slowly, as best she could. Her vision was blurry, but it looked to her like she was staring at some computer screens. She was restrained to an office chair with loose duct tape against her lips. "Hello?" she tried to shout, but all that came out was a grumble. Her throat was sore and she could see her jumpsuit ripped down her legs, revealing dark bruises on her skin.

A figure appeared in her vision. "Hey."

She recognized the voice as Dave's.

"Screw you," she muttered.

"Look, this was for your own good, I swear," he came closer to her. Dave knelt in front of her and pulled the tape off of her face.

Francesca turned her head away quickly, "I don't see how this can be for my own good."

"You were not safe," Dave slid his hands up her legs. It was too close for her liking.

"How is it better that I'm here being held captive by people who should be ready to kill me?" she tried to shake off the restraints and then glared down at him.

"I'm going to take care of you, I promise. You won't ever have to be caught up in all of that again."

"You're an idiot," she spat. "There's a reason I'm with them."

Dave was quiet for a moment. He put his hands on either side of her face and smiled, "I've missed you."

"Please, don't touch me."

"It's been a long time."

"Stop…touching me."

"I'm going to keep you safe, I promise."

Francesca sucked in her lower lip, "How did you find me and get me out of there?"

"Well, we've been tracking you all for awhile. And it was just a simple, temporary paralyzing agent," he said calmly.

"Why do you work for them? You had morals, Dave," she said quietly. "At least when I knew you."

Dave blushed, "I just got caught up in a lot of stuff. And I ended up here. Just a hacker." He shook his head, "Let's stop talking about that. Let me help you."

"You can't."

"Why are you being so adamant about this?"

"I didn't want to leave. You took me away from people who loved me."

Dave frowned, "It was my job."

Francesca hung her head, "They all mean so much to me. They care about me. And…I love him."

"You love who?" Dave asked incredulously.

"John. John…" Francesca cried. "I moved on, Dave. Please tell me you did too."

He silently reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Putting it down on the security desk, Dave sighed, "Now, I never did get over you. And unfortunately, that makes me want to sacrifice everything for your happiness." Then, his eyes met hers in an intense gaze, "Ten minutes."

Dave walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. Now, Francesca knew it wasn't anything to be frightened of. It wasn't a weapon. She could tell. She struggled a little more, finally loosening some of the tape and ropes and whatever else was holding her back.

Finally, she got both of her arms completely free. She reached out for the phone and held it in her palm for a minute, tracing her fingers across multitude of buttons she could press. She remembered how her phone had slipped out of her pocket as Dave dragged her out of the hotel room. Francesca started to dial her own number and then lifted the phone to her ear. It rang and rang for a few seconds. She had almost lost hope, but finally, she heard on the other end, Hannibal's voice, "H-hello?"

"It's me," Francesca answered, wiping a few tears off her cheek.

"Francesca!" he sighed in absolute relief. "Francesca, where are you? Are you alright?"

She smiled sadly, "I'm fine. I'm okay."

"Do you know where you are?"

"Just a big warehouse. Tied to a chair in the security room. The usual…" she trailed off. "Where are you guys?"

Ignoring her question, Hannibal continued, "You don't sound oky.

"John, I don't have much time. Don't waste it by challenging me," she said meekly.

He swallowed. He didn't know what she meant. Death? Was it a final goodbye? Was it a hidden message in her words? "I'm going to find you, Francesca. Please, just hold on."

Francesca felt more tears welling in her eyes. She pursed her lips, "Finish the job. Don't worry about me. I can get out of this."

"But-"

She cut him off immediately, "Just trust me, John. They need to be dealt with. You can do that without me."

"I cannot leave you behind again," he murmured in frustration. "Not ever again, Francesca." Her name slid off his tongue as he savored saying it. He kept saying it. It kept her close.

She hung her head, "I'm giving you permission…to leave me behind."

"No one gets left behind-"

"I am not part of your team."

Hannibal went silent. Tears burned his eyes. Desperately, he turned away from the boys to shield his vulnerability.

"Treat me as a free agent," she said.

"I can't," he said in an intimate whisper, audible only to Francesca.

Francesca started to cry and that gradually turned into sobs. It was almost unbearable for Hannibal to hear, but he waited patiently. Her breath became regular again and she started to speak, "You have to."

At last, he realized she would not let up.

"I love you, John."

Then, she hung up.

"Francesca…" he called out like a summons for her voice. "Francesca…"

She was gone.

Face flanked Hannibal, "What'd she say?"

"Finish the job," he quoted her.

"Then…" he looked back at B.A. and Murdock who were perched on the bed with bruises spreading across their arms and faces. "That's what we'll do."