If either of them were shocked to see her missing a limb, neither showed it. Maybe they were discussing it while they hid from the world, sharing theories on where she might have gone or what she might have done. Not absolutely sane, Will might have said, not anymore. Would Hannibal have disagreed, defended her? Maybe not.

The sight of them wiped away her mental image of their shattered bodies on sea-slick rocks, broken by the fall and savaged by nature. Either Jack Crawford had lied, or they had. Perhaps the ending he�d telephoned to tell her was the ending he needed to believe. The alternative, what was now, she realised, the true story, was so much more horrific. She didn�t know if she would have preferred to keep believing them dead. Probably not.

�You promised to eat me,� she reminded Hannibal, working to keep her voice level. The pain was sharp despite the morphine shot an hour ago, and it took its toll.

�So I did.� But he didn�t come any closer, just stood in her living room, lights reflecting off his shiny shoes, winter coat unbuttoned over a black shirt and black denim. He was preening, released from captivity, he could once again be the predator his early years had made him. But now there was something more in it, something less Alpha, more sexual. His eyes were clear and triumph danced beneath his otherwise emotionless expression.

One hand was held in front of him, gloves and hat dangling from his fingers. His other arm was around Will Graham�s waist, under his long, woollen coat - something Hannibal might have bought for him. She allowed to consider the possibility that he had been coerced there, blackmailed or threatened, drugged perhaps. But his eyes too were clear, his smile was natural and more genuine than any of the grimaces he�d shared with her during his sessions under her care. Although she doubted he�d have called it that. She doubted she would have done either.

But it was hIs arm around Hannibal�s waist that shattered her hope once and for all. Hannibal had long ago fallen out of love with her, if he�d ever been in it. He�d obsessed about Will from the beginning and even in Florence it had always felt as if Will belonged with them, that Hannibal had simply been treading water until he caught up.

�I thought I�d make it easy for you.�

A smile touched the corner of Hannibal�s mouth. �How did you have it prepared?�

�A play on a bayonnaise recipe; studded with garlic, seasoned with salt and pepper, thyme and bay, oil and vinegar. Saut�ed in lard and browned in goose fat with cep mushrooms and seville oranges.�

�That sounds delicious. I�m sorry I wasn�t here to enjoy it. Did you?�

She chose not to answer, instead turning her attention quite obviously to Will. �Which part of yourself have you given up, Mr Graham?�

His smile widened. He looked... contented, relaxed and confident. Happy. The man he�d always meant to be, she realised, the man Hannibal had been chasing all these years, finally broken out of the cocoon.

�My heart,� he murmured, and she wished she hadn�t asked.

�Will isn�t to be a meal,� Hannibal corrected her.

�He�s the other half of you, the answer to the call of your soul.� She could feel the tears starting in her eyes and let them be. �You knew it at the start. You tried to tell me.

�I�m in love with him.� From most people, that statement might have seemed bland, contrite even. But from Hannibal it was the movement of a mountain, the shift of the earth on its axis.

�I know.� She nodded. �I told him you were.� There was no surprise, no reaction from either of them. No secrets remained between them, all had been laid bare. �Why did you come?�

�To say goodbye. We�re going away. You�re the only one who knows we�re still alive.�

�So kill me.�

�No. You won�t tell and even if you do... you had your own leg removed and cooked to feed to me. No one will believe you.�

She swallowed, blinking the tears from her eyes to her cheeks. She�d lost because too late she�d realised she�d been playing the wrong game all along. Only Will had known the rules and he... he was a master, skills way beyond her own. She looked to him.

�You�ve turned your back on everything. Molly, Josh, Jack.�

�Molly and Josh are safer without me.� He laughed, a single bark of bittersweet amusement. �Don�t get me started on Jack. I�m where I belong.�

The winner.

�You won�t see us again,� Hannibal promised. Maybe he was being cruel, maybe he was being compassionate. With him, it was hard to tell.

�Is everyone else safe?� she asked, although she already knew the answer. Together they would, if they so wanted, carve their way through Europe; a trail of missing people and assumed names, well covered up killings and lavish dinner parties. It should have been her at Hannibal�s side, smiling down at the loser. But she�d never even stood a chance against the force of nature that was Will Graham in Hannibal�s eyes. He�d been smitten from the very first look and however hard won his victory, she was certain he would say it had been worth every sacrifice. �I hope you�ll be happy.�

Slowly, Will dropped his head sideways to Hannibal�s shoulder. Her tears fell to mar her silk blouse.

Hannibal placed a reverent kiss into Will�s hair. �We will be.�

Will smiled. �Goodbye, Bedelia. Take care of yourself.�

If she�d had a gun she would have shot them both where they stood and watched them bleed out on her carpet. But she didn�t, so instead she had to watch them leave, locked together. Not possessive, simply comfortable, each finally assured the welcome of the other.