By the time he heard the crash downstairs, Hannibal was awake and jumping out of bed. Hair tousled and in his boxers, he strode purposefully towards the door, flung it open and made his way down the stairs, straining to hear any further noises. Upon entering the kitchen, he paused to grab a knife from the kitchenette, but paused upon seeing the girl stood 20 feet away from him. With her back to him, she appeared to be gazing around the room in a relaxed fashion, ignoring the pile of books deposited on the floor when she'd toppled the bookcase. Hannibal smiled at his previous panic, straightened up, and, tucking the knife into the back of the waistband of his boxers, cleared his throat before asking 'Can I help you?'.

Immediately, the girl turned on her heel, alarmed, but relaxed when she saw him and replied brightly 'Yes. Where is your safe, please?'

'My safe?' he repeated to her, eyebrows raised.

'Yes. Your safe.' She stated matter of fact-ly, apparently still at ease with no weapon in her hands.

He didn't reply, but instead cocked his head as he looked at the stranger. Dressed in all black, she certainly looked the part, but he doubted she knew what she was getting herself into. Absently he wondered what she would taste like.

'Look-' she interrupted his thoughts, clearly impatient and growing frustrated, 'I'm going to find it one way or another, this is a lot easier for the both of us if we just get on with it.'

He smiled, deciding to comply (as it made no difference), replied politely 'I do not own a safe, though some money is kept in this cabinet.' He gestured behind him, and waited for her to approach, which she did, eyes focused on the drawer. The scent her skin gave off was intoxicating, and as she turned her back to him, Hannibal grabbed his knife, and angling it towards her neck, drove his weapon into her skin.

Or it would have done.

As it happened, Hannibal instead found his arm stopped by the hand of the girl, who had turned, and after hitting the crook of his arm to direct the weapon away from her, promptly hit him in the solar plexus. Hannibal staggered backwards, leaning against the island counter for support, surprised but unharmed.

'Don't do that.' His assailant's eyes flashed angrily momentarily before she composed herself. Watching him leaning at the counter, she hesitated.

'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine.' Hannibal growled, ' And I apologise', he added, dropping his knife against the counter to prove the point. She smiled appreciatively, and then turned back towards the cabinet.

'Second drawer,' the Doctor murmured as the girl busied herself moving the notes to the top of the cabinet.

'It's not much, but it'll do.' She said brightly, patting them affectionately, and turning back to Hannibal. 'Riiiight, next…' she paused to pull out a list from her pocket, and after squinting at the words on the crumpled page, said 'Meat.' She looked up at him. 'Where do you keep that?'

'The fridge.' came the reply, bemused. The girl laughed and cocked her head at him.

'Not that meat. The human kind. I have it down here that you have some. My client wants it.'

After a long pause, Hannibal asked 'Client?'

'Yes.' She finished there, but seeing the Doctor was waiting for her to disclose more, she sighed and said 'My job is to take things by force. And,' she tapped at the paper to emphasize her point, 'someone wants what you have.'

'And who might that be?'

Of course she didn't reply.

'I don't have what you're asking for.'

'Really? Because the blueprints to your house show that you have a basement, and the door to it is the only door locked in your whole house.' She nodded in the direction.

Hannibal was speechless. He really was impressed by this girl. She'd be a challenge to track down once this was all over.

'You're very young to be so professional', he noted absently.

'I look younger than I am.' She replied abruptly. 'Where's the key?'

'I do not know.'

She sighed again, and ran a hand through her hair.

'Listen, Mr…' she reached for her piece of paper '… Lecter. What you do in your spare time is of no interest or relevance to me. I just want to get this shit and go.'

'Hannibal.'

'What?'

'Please call me Hannibal.'

'Where is the key please, Hannibal?'

'Madam, do not get mixed up in things you do not understand.'

She snorted, and strode over to him.

'I can handle myself thank you. Answer my question.'

'I cannot.', but even in saying so, his eyes momentarily flickered towards where the bookcase had been. He realised his mistake as he saw the corners of her mouth turn up and smiling, she murmured 'Over there?'.

At this point, he lashed out in panic, aiming for her neck but touching thin air as she ducked, and, grabbing the statuette on top of the island, delivered a blow to his head. He heard it shatter as he hit the floor.

Upon regaining consciousness, he winced and opened his eyes. The remains of the statue lay shattered on the floor. His tasted blood in his mouth, and sat up, taking in the situation. The room was silent, the windows open and curtains trailing in the breeze. The door to the basement was wide open. Hannibal stared into the darkness of its entrance. He didn't have to look to know everything in there would be gone, along with the cash from the cabinet. Running his hands through his hair, he sighed. Yes, she was a problem indeed.

A month exactly later, Catherine Miller had just returned from her evening jog. She smiled as she heard her dog scratch at the door as she unlocked it and let herself in.

'Hey, baby,' she grinned at the corgi as she bent down to stroke him, 'You missed me, huh?'. He excitedly skittered off in preparation for his tea, as she distractedly went through the mail she'd picked up on her way in. The card at the bottom of the pile caught her eye, and shifting it to the front, she stopped in her tracks.

'Doctor Lecter requests the company of Miss Catherine Miller to a dinner party held at his residence in May.'

Below followed a quote in Latin and the details, but most importantly, an elaborate scrawl from the sender: 'Hope to see you there -H.'

Cat mused on this for a while, ignoring the incessant barking of her hungry dog. 'Well,' she sighed to no one in particular, 'at least I have the money to buy a dress.'