AN/ Final chapter! And it's short and sweet. I've got a new Hanfic(ish) simmering on the stove, so watch this space. I spose this has done quite well for my first multi-chaptered fic. Enjoy, I'm off to watch X-Files videos. 'Jose Chung's 'From Outer Space' *sniggers*

Disclaimer: I don't own them. How many times do I have to say it?

Chapter Six: And No More Shall We Part.

When the police arrived at midday they found the house quiet, the drive empty except for Starling's grey Mustang. No-one answered the door. Having grown suspicious when neither Mapp nor Peters had answered their mobile phones, and having let Starling's phone ring for nearly ten minutes, the FBI had scrambled a SWAT team, who now waited in a van down the road. Everyone was prepared for the worst.

The police officer at the door rang the bell one more time. No answer. Another FBI agent, bulky in body armour, wrapped his hands around the handle of a sledgehammer. The door stood up to three swings before splintering, then the SWAT team were swarming into the hallway. Crashes from the back of the house announced another forced entry through the kitchen window. Calls of 'Clear' came from the living room, the dining room and upstairs, but from the kitchen came a shout. A tall agent skidded into the living room where the Special Agent in charge, Ron Corman, waited.

"In the kitchen, it's Mapp. She's in the kitchen."

Broken glass scattered across the tiled floor, the curtains yanked from their runners. Plates stacked neatly ready to be put away, and on the floor Ardelia Mapp, pale in death. Two FBI agents stood uncomfortably next to the body, their boots had made prints in the sticky blood on the floor. Ardelia Mapp, the back of her head blown off, a neat hole in her abdomen. Corman blanched.

"Where's Peters?" he asked.

One of the men looked towards the open garage door. Corman skirted the pool of drying blood and peered inside. A shape loomed in the darkness, but it was only a member of the SWAT team, distinctly grey-faced.

An inspection of the garage revealed first the body of the late Agent Peters, sliced up the middle by Dr Lecter's sharp knife. His body was unmutilated, the doctor's dislike for Williams extended to his taste - he was not going to ruin his palate with Agent Peters.

Crawford, on his trolley, was discovered in the far corner. The officer that found him ran outside, his hand over his mouth. Pinned to the plastic bag over Crawford's head was a note. In a fine copperplate hand, it said:

'She ate that burning heart out of his hand'.
Ta ta,
H.

At the bottom was a PS: 'Wouldn't have missed it for the world - C'.

Far away, on a road headed to the South, a powerful Jaguar purrs along, eating up the miles. Dr Lecter had left the station wagon in a parking lot and retrieved his Jaguar from the garage of the hotel he'd stayed at before paying his social calls. He much preferred it to the ancient 'tank' he'd had to drive.

He is not alone in the car. Clarice Starling sits in the passenger seat. Eyes closed, she listens to Scarlatti. Dr Lecter is pleased that she appreciates the colour and texture of the music. He hopes to teach her much, to show her Vermeer and Botticelli, to take her to Florence and Athens.

*Show her everything. There is so much that would delight her, if she could only see it.*

Dr Lecter looks across at his companion. As if she knows he is watching her, she opens her eyes and smiles at him. He smiles back. They are heading for the southern states, preferring to drive, to spend the time together. It is nearly Mardi Gras time, and Clarice has never been to New Orleans. Dr Lecter smiles to himself.

*We'll have a lot of fun*


FINIS

AN/ *sigh* Now I've gotta get on with my history coursework. I hate it. I actually had a dream about William the Conqueror last night. And for some reason, mint Aeroes. Scary, huh? Anyway, Dr Lecter told me we'd have a lot of fun when I started writing this, and by Golly he was right. So - do I go straight ahead and write my next one, or do I get on with my coursework? Decisions, decisions...

Ta ta,
Screaming Ferret.