I'm back people! Put away those pitchforks and torches!

Firstly, I apologise profusely for that cliffhanger (it was just so tempting though) and for my absence. I have college finals in three weeks time so this last month was just work, work, work for me. I won't be able to update again for another while, but hopefully I'll get a chapter in by the end of this month.

Secondly, 122 REVIEWS AND ALMOST 160 FOLLOWERS. You guys, I can't even begin to explain how much your support means to me.

So I decided to convey it through the power of song. *Ahem* Cue violins.

Just kidding.

And now, without further ado, here is chapter 12. Bon appétit.

With trembling hands, I take the book and glance down at the unfamiliar passage. Throwing Sherlock and John a silent "forgive me", I begin reading.

"Just to yourself, what do you call him?

He's a monster. I think of him as one of those pitiful things that are born in hospitals from time to time. They feed it, and keep it warm, but they don't put it on the machines and it dies."

My eyes dart to the end of the paragraph, frantically searching for any clues. The book is bound in simple brown leather, showing no indication as to what horrors I might read out. And then I spot it – that one name with the ability to send shivers down any spine. Oh no. God no…anyone but him.

Moriarty clears his throat loudly, checking his watch as he does so. 'Move it, Audrey.' He snaps impatiently. I can't help the tremble in my voice as I resume reading.

"…Hannibal Lecter is the same way in his head, but he looks normal and nobody could tell."

I shut my eyes slowly, and gently close the book. Moriarty places a hand on my shoulder, mockingly reassuring. 'That's my girl.' Chuckling softly, he aims his triumphant grin towards Sherlock.

Sherlock, who is now staring at me with a look akin to horror. 'Audrey... What did you –'

'Oh do shut up, Sherly.' Moriarty cuts across him sharply. 'Don't you know it's rude to ignore guests?' He smiles and gestures towards the door he entered through. 'Evening, Doctor Lecter.'

Clear, clipped footsteps resonate around the room, slowly and deliberately.

Strange, we were about to meet arguably one of the most dangerous, downright twisted fictional villains ever, yet all I could think was: Balls. I shouldn't have used vanilla body lotion today – Might as well roll myself in sugar and sprinkles while I'm at it.

'Would anybody care to explain...' A deep, accented voice sounds from the end of the room. '…what I am doing here?'

'Doctor Lecter.' Moriarty calls out to him once more. 'If you would just join us over here, I'd be happy to oblige.' This is followed by a long sigh, and some more creepy footsteps.

I feel a hand gently tugging at my arm, pulling me back. Sherlock rests his finger on his lips when I look at him questioningly, pushing me behind him instead. John has also managed to scoot over to where we're standing, hands held aloft as he attempts to avoid, what can only be described as a kamikaze's dream, strapped to his chest.

I turn my attention back to Moriarty and the now visible Hannibal Lecter. The first thing I notice is his height – he is tall. Very tall. His greying hair is pushed back from his face, revealing sharp cheekbones and dark, deep-set eyes. He is dressed in a dark blue three-piece suit, a large gold pocket watch hangs from his waistcoat. All in all, he makes quite the handsome man.

A pretty face to hide the not-so pretty personality. Just like Moriarty.

Oh, and did I forget to mention he's wearing a white apron at his waist?

Hannibal continues to regard us with an air of indifference. 'I have brought you here,' Moriarty begins, 'because I am in need of your….talents.' He grins widely at this and starts pacing the floor. 'Don't worry though.' He comes to a halt in front of Hannibal. 'We won't keep you here forever.'

I almost laugh at this. Something tells me Hannibal Lecter has never felt worried in his entire life.

'I see.' Hannibal replies shortly, showing little interest. 'And how, exactly, did I come to be here?'

'Aha.' Moriarty laughs softly. 'Now that's the interesting part.' He gestures for me to stand beside him.

Sherlock keeps his hand grasped tightly around my arm. 'Leave her out of this, Moriarty.' He spits.

Moriarty tsks at him, shaking his head as he strolls over in our direction. 'You know, this is really none of your concern, Sherlock.' He pauses for a moment. 'Well…not yet it isn't.'

John, seeing his opportunity, races forward and slams himself up against Moriarty's back, wrapping one arm around his neck and the other around his chest. 'Sherlock, Audrey, run!' John shouts breathlessly. Sherlock takes a step back in surprise, re-aiming his pistol at Moriarty.

'Good! Very good.' Moriarty laughs in delight.

'If your sniper pulls that trigger, Mr. Moriarty, then we both go up.' John threatens him savagely.

'Isn't he sweet? I can see why you like having him around. But then people do get so sentimental about their pets.' Grimacing angrily, John pulls Moriarty even closer onto the bomb that is now sandwiched between them.

'They're so touchingly loyal.' Moriarty scowls. 'But, oops!' He grins briefly at John, then looks towards Sherlock. 'You've rather shown your hand there, Doctor Watson.' His grin widens as a new laser point appears in the middle of Sherlock's forehead. 'Gotcha.'

Moriarty chuckles as John releases his grip on him and steps back, holding his hands up. He glances around at him, then turns back towards Sherlock. 'Westwood!' He gestures indignantly, brushing down his suit. Hannibal, I notice, seems to nod appreciatively at this.

Lowering his hands he stands calmly in front of Sherlock who is still aiming the pistol at his head. 'D'you know what happens if you don't leave me alone, Sherlock? To you?'

'Oh, let me guess…I get killed.' Sherlock sighs tiredly.

'Kill you?' Moriarty grimaces. 'N-no, don't be obvious. I mean, I'mgonna kill you anyway someday. I don't wanna rush it, though. I'm saving it up for something special. No-no-no-no-no.' His grin slowly fades. 'If you don't stop prying, I'll burn you.' His eyes run briefly down Sherlock's body. 'I'll burn the heart out of you.' He snarls viciously.

'I have been reliably informed that I don't have one.' Sherlock replies softly.

'But we both know,' Moriarty looks pointedly at me. 'That's not quite true.' Sherlock blinks involuntarily. 'Now,' Moriarty announces loudly. 'Where were we? Ah yes.' He strides over and snatches my hand, pulling me with him.

'Sherlock, no.' I reassure him before he takes a step, triggering the sniper. 'I'm fine.' Taking a deep breath, I turn to face the two most deadly men I'll ever meet.

'Doctor Lecter,' Moriarty brandishes a hand at the man towering above me. 'I'd like to introduce you to Mademoiselle Dubois.'

'Please don't eat me.' I blurt out before I can help myself. 'I have…worms in my…tubes.' At this point, I don't even care I just bury my face in my hands.

'Audrey.' Moriarty growls threateningly before covering it up with a wide grin. 'Don't spoil the surprise! Tell Doctor Lecter what you can do. Go on.' He encourages, pushing me closer to Hannibal. 'Good girl.'

I stare into deep brown, no, almost maroon coloured eyes. They say the eyes are the gateway to the soul, but I see nothing in Hannibal Lecter's. No hint of anger, or suspicion, they're entirely void of emotion. He conceals everything.

Eats everything as well. Oh shut up, Aud.

'I…I w-well I can…um…you see I…' I stutter pathetically.

Hannibal bends down slightly so we are at a more even eye level. 'Come now, Miss Dubois, speak up.'

I decide to abandon looking him in the eye and stare at his black leather shoes instead. When the ringing in my ears begin to fade, I start again. 'You, Hannibal Lecter, are a fictional character. You are a figment of Thomas Harris' imagination. This.. world you find yourself in now is also fictional. The only genuinely real person in this room.. is me.' I finish, looking up at him as I speak. 'That is because,' I continue, 'I have the ability to read myself in, or read characters out, of fictional stories.' I expect him to question me, or get angry, so it's rather surprising when he begins to smile. 'You believe me, then?' I ask, folding my arms.

He continues to smile. 'Miss Dubois, do you know what I was doing before you summoned me here?'

I shake my head slowly, eyeing his apron. 'If I'm going to be honest with you, Doctor Lecter, I'm not sure I really want to know.'

'Very well.' He nods understandingly. 'Let's just say, I had bone to pick with someone.'

Ugh.

'Referring back to your previous question, Miss Dubois, I can only say I'm glad there is an explanation as to why I suddenly found myself in a swimming pool locker room, and not my kitchen.'

I smirk despite myself. 'Does anything faze you, Doctor Lecter?'

'You'll just have to wait and see.' He continues to regard me with a look of amusement. 'For now, consider me impressed.'

I feel myself blushing at the compliment. Oh for god sakes Audrey, this is so you! Any man shows the slightest bit of interest in you and you turn all girly and giggly. Get a bloody grip woma-

'Well,' Moriarty interrupts my me, myself and I time. 'We'd best be off.' He nonchalantly gazes around the room. 'So nice to have a proper chat.' He grins at Sherlock who, might I add, has had his pistol aimed at Moriarty for the duration of the whole conversation.

'Audrey, poppet.' Moriarty calls to me. 'Will be in touch soon.' He touches the tips of his fingers to his lips and blows a kiss in my direction.

Smooth.

'Doctor Lecter, we have much to discuss.' He begins to lead Hannibal from the room, pausing to throw Sherlock one last glance. 'Ciao, Sherlock Holmes.'

Sherlock steps forward to keep him in his sight. 'Catch…you…later.'

'No you won't!' Moriarty sing-songs from behind the swinging door.

The door closes with a soft thump. Sherlock doesn't move for a few seconds, his gun still aimed towards the door, then his gaze drifts across to John and he instantly discards the pistol. Dropping to his knees in front of John (Girls, please that's enough.), he starts unfastening the bomb-riddled vest.

'All right?' John tilts his head back in response, breathing heavily. (Now, really girls, I said that's enough!) 'Yeah…yeah, I'm fine.'

Having unfastened the vest, Sherlock jumps up and hurries round behind John, starting to pull the jacket and the bomb vest off in one go.

'Here, let me help.' I offer, taking a step towards them.

'No.' Sherlock replies rather aggressively. Seeing my hurt expression, his vice softens. 'No, Audrey, just stay where you are.'

Merde. He's pissed off.

Finally Sherlock manages to roughly strip the jacket and vest off John's arms. He bends and skims the clothing items as far away along the floor as he can. He turns and stares at John for a moment, then hurries back to pick up the pistol before racing towards the door that Moriarty left through. John's knees buckle and he staggers towards the nearest support, clutching the edge of one of the changing cubicles.

'John.' I gasp. Hurrying over to help him up. I wish I could tell him it's over, that we can leave the pool now and go back to Baker Street.

Any minute now. Any minute he's going to come back in through those same doors, same smug expression on his face.

So instead I just wrap my arms around John's shoulders. Sherlock begins pacing in front of the two of us. Seconds pass, and those seconds turn to minutes. Ten minutes, to be exact.

'He's not coming back, Audrey.' Sherlock says quietly, noticing my frequent glances towards the exit. I stare up at him, confused. No, no this isn't what happens.

Sherlock regards me coldly. 'He got what he came for.'

'So you're saying...' Mrs Hudsons starts slowly. '..That Audrey could be in any one of these books?' She gestures to the pile of books resting atop the kitchen table.

'Yes.' Mr Thompson replies tiredly, gazing at the large stack.

'Well she could be anywhere!' Mrs Hudson cries out exasperatedly, throwing her hands in the air.

'Yes, thank you for pointing that out, Mrs Hudson.' Mr Thompson says through gritted teeth. He runs a hand over his face. 'Can you remember anything about that day?'

Mrs Hudson places a finger to her chin, thinking. 'Well, I had just got off the phone with Mrs Doyle. She was having a spot of bother with her new dishwasher, you see, and was wondering if I - '

'No, I mean anything to do with the case?' Mr Thompson interrupts her. 'Sherlock's case?'

'Oh the case... well...' She trails off, eyes squinting at nothing in particular. '...Ah! Yes I remember something! I heard Sherlock harping on about a banker and a suicide? Or no, it wasn't suicide but - '

'Brilliant!' Mr Thompson cuts her off, jumping from his seat. 'We'll start with the Blind Banker.' He points to the second last book in the pile.

'And what, you're just going to read us into various chapters until we find the one they're in?' Mrs Hudson asks incredulously.

Mr Thompson smiles determindly. 'That's the plan.'

Okay, I just want to clarify that I did NOT choose Hannibal Lecter because the new season of Bryan Fuller's Hannibal is out. Having both read the book series by Thomas Harris and watching the film adaptations (the Anthony Hopkins versions), the decision to include him in the story had been my intention from the start.

This is NOT (I repeat not) going to become a Hannibal/Sherlock crossover. I'm merely using the character and his traits, I'm not using Harris' material. I did, however, describe Hannibal based on Mads Mikkelsen's appearance. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely adore Tony Hopkins portrayal, but personally I find Mads' physical appearance more threatening.

When deciding which villian I wanted Audrey to read out, I simply asked myself: If there was a raging lunatic on the loose, who would I be most frightened of? What villian is realistic enough to have a certain amount of normality, but at the same time pull off the crazy psychopath facade? Apart from Moriarty, there was only one other I could think of - Hannibal Lecter, our friendly neighbourhood cannibal.

Anywho, after that painfully long spiel, I want to thank everyone for reading and to PLEASE review. I really want to know what you guys think of the newest character addition.

P.s I realise I use a hella lot of Hobbit quotes but I'm sorry, they're just begging to be used!