So much for two weeks later...Well here is the long awaited chapter. Sort of a filler, promise more drama in the next one. Only a few chapters left. At least that's what I've planned. We'll see

Two Weeks Later

Francesca stared at the burning building with an orange shock blanket wrapped around her. Her eyes were filled with tears.

She didn't even have time to realize that this was the first time she had breathed fresh air in two weeks. In her left hand, Francesca clutched Dave's slim phone. Her grasp on it was so tight that her knuckles were white. Charisa Sosa came up beside her and rested one hand on her shoulder, "Are you alright?"

"No," Francesca swallowed. "A good man died tonight. He didn't deserve what you did to him."

"He was working for people against the United States Government," Charisa said calmly. "Even if his morals were right, he was in the wrong place. It was his fault."

Dave was dead. So were Edward McDonald and everyone else who had been in the warehouse besides herself. That she had even lived was alive was a miracle.

It had been her fifteenth day of captivity. She had been sleeping. All Francesca could do was sleep and dream and try to get out of that place. At least once a day, though, Dave would come into the room and talk to her. Keep her company. They wouldn't talk about what had happened between them. They would talk about things they loved. Dave's dog Ziggy and Francesca's brother. They'd listen to each other, help each other out. That day, he hadn't come yet. So, imagination was the key out of that hell hole.

Every now and then, she'd check to see if the door was unlocked. Maybe Dave forgot or maybe he was giving her a chance to escape. However, that was a lost cause. Sometime during the day, smoke started to pour in through the vents and Francesca knew that if she didn't get out of there within five minutes, she would be a lost cause. Dead.

And those five minutes ticked by as she tried to let herself out of the room.

Dave had suddenly burst in and helped her out, starting to murmur instructions in her ear. "Get out. Go. Run. You won't be safe until you're out of this building and heading toward the city."

Francesca had shaken her head in incomprehension.

"Just…" he had handed her his cell phone. "Call them again. Tell them this: The password is WALC672. You remember that? W-A-L-C-672."

"Dave. What's going on?" she got enough energy to speak.

"There's not time to explain. Please, just… go."

And he had kissed her. Full on the lips. She didn't push him away. She was kind of frightened.

"Thank you," he flashed his smile and then ran his hands through her hair. "Run."

She shook her head, "Can't you come?"

"There's a lot that I have to take care of," Dave frowned. "Things that I have to get rid of. I'm sorry for everything I did to you. Everything."

And he cast her off. Francesca ran, picking up speed, not paying attention to her aching legs.

Her recollections were cut off.

"Come on," Charisa slipped her arm around Francesca. "We're going to get out of here."

Francesca reluctantly went with her, lowering her head. Not only had she been taken away from the four boys that had brought a new, psychotic happiness to her life, but she had also lost someone that she cared about. Someone she had loved, lost, and then gained back in a friendship.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked Charisa quietly.

"Don't worry," Charisa gave her a close lipped smile. "It's gonna be fine."

"I don't want you to tell me it's going to be fine," Francesca closed her eyes and stopped walking with her. "Where am I going? Are you arresting me or…"

Charisa sighed, "Look, Francesca, this was all considered a hostage situation. I have yet to tell anyone that you actually were in cahoots with the Alpha Team."

"Then I'll tell them," she pursed her lips. "They're not going down further for me."

"Francesca, you can't do that," she said urgently. "You jeopardize your own career, my career…your family."

Upon hearing family, Francesca froze.

"I don't mean to make this any harder than it is."

"I…" Francesca lost her voice. Tell the truth and destroy her family. Stay silent and destroy Hannibal.

Charisa turned toward Francesca and put her hands on her shoulders, "Stop worrying. You need to rest."

They walked the rest of the way toward a black car and Charisa let Francesca get in. Francesca finally asked, "Do they know what happened in the building? Why did it go up?"

Charisa didn't reply, instead pulling out her cell phone. She started to dial a number that Francesca couldn't follow with her eyes readily.

Her head started throbbing, so much so that her gut tightened and she felt nauseous. Francesca closed her eyes and drew her legs up to her chest. It wasn't anything new. The dizziness. But now, she wanted it all to go away. It was doubly painful, that headache feeling that made her stomach turn.

However, she would just bear it for now.

Flashback

Francesca shook her head, "You're everything I want."

"That's not the same," Hannibal quickly said.

"You're just afraid," she bit her lip.

"I'm not," he lied through clenched teeth. "I'm not afraid. It just wouldn't be fair."

She sighed, "John, I love you. I am content with you."

"Francesca, you don't know what love is. You are a child."

"You sound like a cliché father," she spat. "Grow down."

"I'm looking out for your best interests," Hannibal said.

Francesca shook her head, "John, you-"

"I know what I'm saying!" he said loudly.

"You don't! You don't at all! You know what you wish you could say," she stood up. "Please, John."

"I can't-"

Francesca turned away from him and ran her hands through her hair. She was silent. There was no time to cry anymore, no time to consume her thoughts with the idea of his love. Instead, she went over to the small refrigerator at the other side of the room and took out the overpriced, miniature bottle of whiskey. Her eyes examined the bottle with sharp intensity. Francesca let out a drawn out breath and then unscrewed the cap.

Hannibal was confusedly watching with his gaze intruding on her peripheral vision. As she pressed the bottle to her lips he started to speak again. "Francesca, stop."

Suddenly, she did a spit-take directed toward him without any inhibitions. She quickly wiped off her mouth and said, "That is the worst tasting stuff pretty much ever."

"You're ignoring the subject."

"What…subject?" Francesca eyed the lips of the bottle again and licked her lips. "I guess that wasn't horrible."

Hannibal rolled his eyes, "You need to grow up."

"After you grow down. I guess we could meet in the middle," Francesca snapped and drank from the bottle again.

"Francesca, listen. You cannot make me change my mind. That's not how this all works," Hannibal scoffed.

Francesca smiled, "I know. I know that's not how to works." She dropped the bottle on the floor and dropped her head back, laughing. She was hysterical. Out of options and angry. "Forget about it. We're forgetting all about everything. Okay?"

"It's not okay," Hannibal said quietly as she came toward him.

"You're a bastard," she replied and forced her lips on his. She knew he'd melt. She knew he wouldn't dare pull away, afraid of hurting her feelings.

He knew she was using him. Hannibal let out a small gasp of surprise and also anger, but gradually let the kiss overcome him. There was no way around it. His eyes closed as she used her shrill talent to charm him.

Their embrace grew deeper, hotter, and more passionate. Hannibal ended up pinning her against the sheets and running his lips against her cool neck. It was hard to resist a woman. Even Hannibal could have a tough time not succumbing to the sensual touch of women, much less one that he truly did love.

End Flashback

They were flying over the ocean now, Murdock at the controls with an abnormally serene expression. Hannibal was sitting next to him. His hands were pressed between his thighs.

"Bossman, you wanna talk?" Murdock asked with a small sigh.

"Not particularly," Hannibal said quietly, staring forward.

Murdock rolled his eyes, "Okay, I'm gonna close my eyes and drive this plane unless you start talking."

"No!" Hannibal didn't even let him try. "Fine…Fine."

"So what's bugging you?" Murdock smiled meekly.

He shrugged, "Well, whataya think? I'm still worried about her."

Even though it had been a few weeks already, Hannibal was thinking about her always. They had first fled Rio and gotten a boat to Greece where they hatched their plan. Now, they were flying to Mongolia. And then they would begin their plan. However, they were all a little unsure. With Hannibal's head in the clouds, which was rare, the plan was one they were less confident about.

Murdock smiled, "She can take care of herself."

"I don't doubt it, but…I wish I could've just said a proper goodbye," he crossed his arms.

"I know," the pilot replied. "We all wish we could change things we've said or done."

There was an uncomfortable pause. Murdock continued to drive the plane while Hannibal stared blankly, focused on remembering every detail of Francesca's naked body pressed up against his in a fury of passion. In the back, Face and B.A. snored, collapsed on the ground with their hands splayed across the floor.

"I said I'd marry her," Hannibal said simply. "Someday."

"M-marry?" Murdock asked. He was completely shocked.

"I know," Hannibal smirked. "And the truth is I am going to marry her. The next time I see her I am going to propose to her."

His friend smiled with great joy, "You're gonna do it. You're actually gonna marry her. I can't believe it."

"I know."

"Out of the four of us, I never thought you'd be the first-"

Hannibal started to laugh, "Neither did I."

"Well, you don't think you're rushing into that or anything…"

"No. Not really. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. She's…incredible," Hannibal's smile disappeared. "I can only hope she feels the same. Or that I even see here again."

Murdock quieted at this. "You'll see her again."

"We'll see."