Epilogue

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Time heals most wounds. Ardelia Mapp's physical scars had all but faded, as the six month mark came around.

Standing in the offices of the Behavioural Sciences Unit, deep within the bowels of the Quantico Virginia buildings, she was slowly packing manila files back into a large brown box. The label was turned away from her, at the moment, but she knew the case number off by heart. It was Lecter's case, box three of five. She was packing it away for good. The whole case was to be moved downstairs, to cold case storage. The FBI was ready to put Lecter's case on the back burner, for now. This second escape was an embarrassment that no amount of work could compensate for. So, they had decided to bury it. The team assembled to Lecter's case was reassigned. His files went back into storage.

Mapp could not quite bring herself to feel anything but glad that the case was closed. In the first days, when she had woken up in hospital and Vale had told her what would happened at the warehouse, she had been full of rage – towards Lecter and, of course, Starling. She had cursed her friend and thrown the ring she had sent, all those years ago, into the garbage. She had vowed that Starling was dead to her, for all she did. But, like her scars her body bore, the scars of Starling's betrayal faded with time. Hindsight was a great illuminator. And, as she began to heal and returned to work, she slowly found it felt less personal.

Starling would never have meant to hurt her. Mapp knew that. She knew Starling better than almost every other person on this earth. Her choices came from somewhere deep and passionate, and explicable only to her. They always had been. Her passion was what had made her a good Agent. It was what had led her to solve all those cases that others had overlooked. It was what had led her to him, and love had done the rest. Love trumped logic and explanation, Mapp knew that. Still, it burned a little to think of Starling out there. It was the ultimate reminder that her friend had grown up and away from her. Become something new.

"You're thinkin' of her again." Vale's voice sounded from the darkness of the empty office.

Mapp looked over, a smile spreading across her face. Vale had been her god-given solace, these last few months. She had worried, at first, that the experience in the warehouse would taint the rest of their relationship, but it had done nothing of the sort. They had recovered together, both physically and mentally. She had put in her transfer to the Behavioural Sciences Unit, to close the Lecter case, and they had worked it together – their special interest in the case allowing them certain leniency, where their relationship was concerned. The no-fraternisation rule, between Agents, seemed to have been waived. Mapp suspected that Pearsall had put in a word, on their behalf. Perhaps he had got a little perspective on who he really didn't want his agents dating.

Raising a file in greeting, Mapp beckoned Vale over to her side. He sidled up and placed two mugs on the table.

"Coffee, strong, black, with extra sugar."

"My hero."

Mapp scooped up her mug and took a large gulp. Her body sang in response to the caffeine. Vale walked over to the table and began to leaf through the remaining files and photos.

"I love this one."

Mapp looked over.

Vale was holding an A4 sheet of photo paper. From her angle, she could only see a small portion of the photograph, but she knew which one it was. She allowed herself a little smile. Starling, standing across the way from the DC courts. It had been taken just after the last day of the Lecter trial, when he had been sentenced to Death, by lethal injection. She was half-leaning into the wind, her arms folded across her belly, with John Marshall Park as her backdrop. The green grass offset her chestnut hair beautifully. It licked like flames, around her shoulders. Her amber eyes were distant, her expression defiant yet somehow deeply vulnerable.

"I loved this photo in the paper. She hated it," Mapp told him, moving to stand at his shoulder. "At the time, I thought it was 'cause it showed her hurtin', over having to see him."

Vale shifted, a little closer to her.

"Well, I expect she probly was."

Vale's take on the events of Starling's exit from the FBI had been a god-given solace too, Mapp thought. Where she had been rage and devastation, he had been calm and thoughtful. Times more than she could count, he had defended her friend - the woman by all rights he should have hated, for playing him as she did. His reason; when he had heard Brian Palden's voice on the phone that day, telling him that Mapp was being held hostage, he had distinctly thought he would do 'anything' to get her back. Anything. And he had only known and loved her for such a short time.

There are no words to describe what goes on between two hearts, he had told her one night in the hospital, the night she had thrown the ring into the garbage and collapsed on the bed in tears. There is no reason to it and you can either be mad at it, or accept it and let it go. To me, I think there are so many things wrong with world, that love is a stupid thing to be mad at. I hope its a second chance, for both of them. I hope they do more good than they do hurt, and they create more than they destroy. I think you're right, and it is a numbers game, and about all you can hope in this life is to end up in the black, with someone who you love beside you. Someone who makes you better.

He had kept the emerald ring, too. Days later, he had brought it to her, and he had placed it in her hands and kissed her forehead. And Ardelia Mapp had realised that, one day soon, she was going to give him a ring in return. Because the man was probably right. There were so many damn things wrong in the world that love was a stupid thing to be scared of.

She watched him now, eyes soft.

"I s'pose."

Vale gave her a half smile, then turned his attention back to the table. He took one last look at the photo then placed it in the box.

"Want me to help you pack this all up?"

"Yeah."

They packed up together, folding the documents and photos into their appropriate folders, slotting the request forms in underneath each. Six months of investigating. Six months of proving to the FBI they had done their upmost and it was time to just let Lecter and Starling go. Six months of anger, and grief, and finally forgiveness. As they swept the last few papers into the box, Mapp could not help but wishing Starling was here to celebrate. The old Starling. The woman she had grown up with, not the beautiful but terrifying woman had become.

When the table was clear, Mapp took a few steps back and placed her hands on her hips.

"Well. Thats it."

"Not quite."

She looked over at Vale, who had reached inside his coat pocket, to produce an evidence bag. Mapp's sighed softly as she remembered what was inside. A postcard from an old friend.

"Yeah, I guess you better bring that over too."

Vale watched her carefully, brow furrowed.

"You sure?"

"Positive. I'm putting everything in."

Vale's eyes dipped down to the emerald ring, still hanging on a chain around her neck. Mapp gave a half smile.

"All right, almost everything."

"Its okay, to keep more than one thing, you know." He offered her the postcard. "She was your friend. And Pearsall said you can keep it. Forensics have done all they wanted. This is yours."

Mapp felt a little smile tug at her lips. Like Starling, the postcard was never really hers. It belonged to Starling and Lecter. It was a nine-by-four inch declaration of love and fidelity, between two people who could hardly front up at FBI headquarters and declare it in person. A photograph of a tired but elated Starling, holding a newborn infant with a shock of dark hair, both parents thumb prints placed in the lower right-hand corner of the card. A forensic signature in indelible ink.

There was a message there for Mapp too, but the Agent hardly needed to keep the postcard for that reason. She knew the words off by heart.

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Dear Ardelia,

We're fine and better than fine. You won't find us, and I hope you stop looking one day. You have so much else to live for. So much joy and life ahead of you. Know that I never meant to hurt you and I'm sorry for the damage of this past year. You really have grown into the most spectacular woman. I am glad that I had the opportunity to see it, firsthand.

Don't burn this. Take it to the FBI. Let them dust it for prints. Think of it as my last communiqué.

Goodbye, my friend. I love you.

Starling.

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Mapp let a slow breath out.

"It's okay, Vale. Put it in."

He looked like he was going to ask her if she was sure again, but thought better of it. Mapp thanked him, silently. Letting go was hard enough. She didn't need to explain it as well. The thing was, the words were all she needed. The prints and everything else was for the benefit of the FBI. The words had been Starling's message to her. In her slightly wayward handwriting, slightly unevenly spread across the page as if it was written on her lap. For some reason, Mapp imagined her writing it by the coast, chestnut hair whipping around her face and a smile on her lips. At peace, finally. It was a good vision.

She nodded as Vale removed the postcard from its red evidence bag and dropped it in. It lay on top of a closed folder like the period at the end of a sentence. Small and final, holding back all that came before it. Her last communiqué. Mapp wondered whether Starling and her child really would be the end of it all. Would they ever add another victim folder to Lecter's file? Somehow, she doubted it. Even if he killed again, the Doctor had far too much to lose by being careless. This would be the end of the Lecter case, whether the FBI liked it or not.

"That's that, then."

"That's that."

Both of them stared down at the photograph.

Mapp had always imagined that it would be she and Clarice who would grow old side by side. If she had ever imagined leaving the FBI and kids, Starling was still always in the picture. They had been best friends and Mapp could not quite imagine a life without her. Yet, that life had crept up on her, without her even noticing. She had moved on. Starling had moved on. Their paths had set them at perpendicular angles to one another, and now they were travelling away.

Here, at the close of their time together, Mapp could see that their friendship had reached a natural conclusion. Both of them had changed too much to walk side by side, now. Mapp still had something to give the FBI and she wished to give it, wholeheartedly. While Starling had found somebody as badly broken as she was and they were going to find somewhere to slowly heal - to create, for a while, rather than destroy. (Or kill and eat people. Mapp was pretty sure it was the former, but you could never tell. Starling had surprised her before).

Mapp took one last look at the postcard, before picking up the top of the evidence box. Despite the sins of her parents, Mapp could not help but feel hopeful, for the child in Starling's arms. If the world could grant a man such as Hannibal Lecter a second chance then, surely, a child born of love would find its way?

"It feels kinda like closure, doesn't it?" She asked Vale, quietly.

Her partner just nodded.

He was good at that – letting there be silence, when there were no words to say.

Mapp placed the cardboard top back on the evidence box and lifted it over to sit on top of the others, before stepping back, to stand beside Vale. He slipped one arm loosely around her shoulders, kissing her on top of the head. She leant against him, finding comfort in his solid form. He was always there. Mapp reminded herself never to forget that. She had a good man at her side. The world could be kind, as well as mean.

They stood, watching the box, for another minute before Mapp spoke again.

"You know, I kinda resent the fact her name isn't on the label."

Vale looked over, mildly surprised.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It is, technically, a joint case an' all."

"It is…" Vale said, thoughtfully.

"And she's got a rap sheet as long as my arm, it's not like she don't deserve her name on one of these."

They two Agents looked at each other. Vale lifted an eyebrow.

"You think she'd like that?"

"I know she would."

Un-looping his arm from around her shoulders, he stepped forwards and took a red marker pen off the nearest desk. Slowly and carefully, he printed 'Starling' into the case name section of the label, along side 'Lecter'. When he had finished, Vale replaced the pen and stepped back to stand next to Mapp, folding his arms across his chest thoughtfully.

"Looks good."

"Yeah."

Vale nodded and turned his attention over to the office doors. Mapp followed his gaze, to the clock that hung there. Its pale white face told her that the time was quarter to nine. Damn, it was getting late. Where had the day gone away to, Mapp wondered? She made an inner pact to get home early tomorrow, before remembering that tomorrow was a Saturday and heaving a heavy sigh. She would go home early next Friday, then.

Turning to Vale, she hid a yawn behind her hand.

"It's late." She told him, unnecessarily.

"I know." He nodded towards the exit. "Come on, let's get out of here. I'll buy you dinner."

"Dinner?"

"Yeah, I'll take you out somewhere fancy. Celebrate. Its not a night to be eatin' alone."

"Well," Mapp shrugged then, throwing one last look at the boxes, turned back to Vale. "Starling did always used to say some things were better with two."

"Did she really?" a smile and something hidden flittered across Vale's face.

Mapp wondered, briefly, which of her words had prompted his smile, but decided not to ask. She had the rest of her life to find out what was going on behind his eyes. Tonight, she thought, she was going to lose herself in his lips, his voice, his touch. They were young and free and life was precious. Her time in the warehouse had taught her that. She was going to live hard and enjoy every second of it.

"Come on." Vale took her by the hand and started walking, leading her away from the boxes and the cold light of the underground office.

It was easier to walk away than Mapp had ever imagined. The hand clasped tightly around her own was all the pull she needed.

They walked over to the doors, past the cubes of identical desks that made up the Behavioural sciences bullpen. They walked towards the exit, discussing possible restraints, under a board which held posters of the FBI's most wanted. Lecter was no longer among the faces up there. The FBI knew when to sweep certain cases under the carpet. This was one that would remain there, in the dust, for a long time.

Vale switched the main lights off as they left, plunging the Quantico office into the eerie green of the emergency lighting. Vale and Mapp did not pause to look back at it. They continued on, up the stairs, chatting amiably to one another.

"So, I know this great little place around the corner."

"It better not be that place with the dodgy pizza," she warned.

"It isn't. It's a million times better, I promise. Plus, the chicken is amazing and you know I know my chicken..."

The door shut slowly behind them, hinges rotating silently inwards. As their footsteps began to fade away on the stairs, the room they left behind settled into its nighttime routine. As the door clicked home, the air conditioning cranked up a notch, rattling faintly. Its noise was the only accompaniment to the faint electronic hum of the computers which stayed, day and night, on standby in several of the offices. Nothing else disturbed the silence of the green-hued room. Everything was quiet. Everything was still.

The cold case evidence boxes lay in their neat little pile, labelled one through five along the side. Shadows fell across them, painting their sides in innocuous shades of grey and green. Nothing on their outside alluded to the beauty and the horror of what lay within. They were perfectly regular. Standard and square. If anyone were to look carefully, however, they would notice that the names 'Lecter' and 'Starling' filled the label on the front almost exactly.

Some things were better with two.

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FIN