Hey guys, this is an idea I've had for a while now. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE Review! I need all the feedback I can get, to know whether I should continue on with this story. ~X

"Two more disappearances have been reported. Police say they are working with the FBI to do everything they can….." The news broadcast was cut off, the radio it was playing on, knocked to the floor. "Oh shit, shit, shit." The brunette said as she danced around frantically. "I'll have to sort it later…" She mumbled and continued to pull on clothes and throw her long curled hair up into a messy bun, on top of her head.

"Will, what the hell are you doing up there?" A voice shouted up, from downstairs. Smiling, she grabbed her bag and ran downstairs. "Welcome home, Jack!" She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and stole the slice of toast he was about to eat. "Sorry, I'm late for work. Call you later."

Without even waiting for a reply, she ran from the house, toast in mouth. She unlocked her rust bucket of a car, throwing her bag into the passengers seat and quickly getting in after it. Buckling herself in, she started it up and switched the stereo on. The doors started to blare out, tapping a hand on her wheel and munching on her toast, she was off.

A few minutes into the drive, she turned down the music and spoke. "Frederick, could you refrain from following me to work everyday, please." She said, seeming to speak to no one, but herself.

"You're the only one that can see me, what else do you expect me to do? Besides, I hate sitting in that clammy house of yours." A voice came from the backseat. Looking up into her mirror, she studied the man seated in the back of her car. He looked like a live human, minus the fact he had a gaping bullet hole in his face.

"Clammy… Frederick, you're dead, you can't tell if it's clammy or not." She shook her head, smiling a little. This man had come to her a month ago, she'd had several ghosts come and go, since the accident, and often she managed to help them, unless they were difficult, or sometimes bad. "If it bothers you so much, hurry up and go to heaven, or wherever it is that the dead go." She wasn't a religious person, but she had enough belief that there was somewhere we went after death.

"I'm fine here, thank you very much. If I wanted to leave this world, I would have killed myself." Willow sighed. The man hadn't told her his surname, nor how he had come to meet his end. The only logical answer, was murder. She couldn't help the dead if they didn't speak to her.

"Well, fine. Just please don't distract me today, Mr. Verger is already on my back for breaking plates, he's taking that money off my wage you know." She disliked her boss greatly, he gave her the creeps and he often had company from men that looked like they ran a drug ring or something. But it was a job, only kitchen work, but she had jumped at the chance. Her anxiety had been something that held her back from going on to university or a better job.

"You're late, again." She had finally arrived at work, and ten minutes early at that. But Mason Verger, had to display his 'power' like always. He was the owner of this restaurant and he liked to remind everyone of that, too often.

"I'm very sorry, there was bad traffic in the center of town." Willow replied. "It's won't happen again, sir." She put an emphasis on the title, hoping he wouldn't lecture her for too long. She heard Frederick snort behind her, though of course, she was the only one.

"I should hope not. You'll be waitressing today, I'm short staffed and have a guest coming at lunch, who I would like to be treated specially." Willow gulped and her stomach churned, she didn't think she could face so many people. "By all means, sir… I don't think that would be a very good idea…"

"Don't be so ridiculous, girl. You're what, twenty years old? Grow a spine." His words were harsh, and angered her a little. There was no reasoning with a man that liked to watch people suffer.

"I'm twenty-one… And if you want me to waitress, I'll do so." She walked past him, and through to the back, where the staff room was. She didn't want to argue with the man. She was greeted by her friend and fellow colleague, Abigail, when she walked into the staff room. She noticed the waitress outfit had already been hung in her locker. "It looks like I'm with you today…" Willow commented and sighed as she held the outfit up, her nose scrunching in disapproval.

"Yes, Mr. Verger demanded I make you look presentable when I arrived." Abigail rolled her eyes as she said this. No one really liked him, but they all put up with his shit because the pay was good.

"Presentable?" Willow repeated, and looked at herself in the mirror on the inside of her locker door. "What's wrong with how I look now?" She hardly ever wore make-up, and her hair was tied in it's usual messy bun.

Abigail smiled, she was the complete opposite. Her hair was neatly done, and her make up enhanced her already pretty features. "You look fine, Willow. We just need to smarten you up a little." Abigail patted the seat next to her and removed her brush and make-up bag from her handbag.

Willow looked herself over in the mirror, she looked like a completely different person. Her hair had been platted around the front, and was in a cute, but tight bun at the back; a few loose curls lined her face. The make-up Abigail had done, was light, Willow's skin was unmarked and smooth enough according to Abigail. So she had simply added a little eyeliner to her top lid, which made her blue eyes pop, mascara and a soft shade of pink for the lips.

The black dress, she didn't like so much. It was tight, and clung to her body, she was just thankful that it was knee length and the neckline didn't dip too low. "Wow, would you look at that. The troll turned into a princess." Brian said loudly, when she walked into the kitchen. Pursing her lips, she picked up a potato and threw it at the chef. "Quiet you."

He dodged it and started to laugh. Brian Zeller, the head chef, often teased her. They got on well though. The work force was small, and everyone tried to make the place a little more fun, among the stress and rush of everyday. "Argh… I want to go back to my plain clothes."

"Didn't I tell you to grow a spine. Don't give me trouble Graham, this is your punishment for being late one too many times." Willow rolled her eyes before turning to look at her boss. "Here, your name tag." She took it, and pinned it to the dress. She could feel the man burning holes into her as he looked her over. "You scrub up well, Miss Graham. It's a shame you don't make an effort more often."

She gritted her teeth, keeping the comments that whirled in her head, to herself. "I'm sorry, sir. Being raised by a single man from the age of thirteen does that to you." She tried not to sound angry, she couldn't put up with anymore of his snide remarks.

He hummed a little, before walking off, probably to go and slack in his office. "You and Abigail have an hour to set up the front of house."

Willow hadn't found the job too bad, despite her worries. She simply had to show the customers menus, bring them the wine or any other beverage they chose, and take their orders. She was a little less anxious and happy even more so, that she hadn't dropped a plate of food into a customers lap.

When Verger finally crawled out of his den, he sent her for a ten minute break. She jumped at the chance to gulp down a pint or two of water. All the running around and talking had made her mouth dry. She sat watching the front of house, from a spot in the kitchen, casually talking to Brian as he cooked and shouted orders at his kitchen hands and sous chef. She snorted as she watched Verger pretend to be busy, looking through the reservation book, acting graciously and a little too happy when a particular customer entered the restaurant. She could only guess that it was the 'important guest' he had mentioned earlier.

"Who's that?" She asked Brian, checking the clock to make sure she wasn't going over her break time. "I don't know his name, he comes now and again. I've heard some of the others talking, apparently he put money into this place and Verger is slowly paying him back."

Willow raised an eyebrow and drained the last of her glass "I wouldn't have thought Mason Verger was the type to take loans from other people." Brian just shrugged in reply, and continued with the order he was currently doing. Washing her glass, she placed it into the dishwasher before going back out into the front, Mason beckoned her over.

"Willow, I shall be having a small business meeting over lunch, could you fetch a bottle of Château Cos D'Estournel, please." Both of her eyebrows rose at the request, Abigail had quickly shown her some of the wines that she didn't know, she was proud of her extremely good memory. This particular wine, she remembered, was in the cellar on the 'expensive' wall.

"Yes sir…." She said, and walked away to retrieve a bottle. She was a little shocked that Mason Verger would serve someone, one of his most expensive wines in the store, without charging them an arm and a leg. Will gave Abigail a confused look when they passed each other, Abigail on the other hand just smiled. She was used to this, Will would have to extract information out of her later.

"Your boss works with some bad people." Willow ignored Frederick as she looked through the rack, looking for the bottle of wine. She could tune most of that world out, but the occasional spirit got through to her. "If I were you, I'd start looking for another job." He spoke again, suddenly appearing next to her. "Thank you for your input, Frederick. The pay is too good to pass up here, so I don't think I'll be looking anytime soon… Unless Mason Verger sacks me for being late again." She heard him sigh, he was now at the other side of the cellar, leaning against some barrels. Taking the bottle she had been looking for, she walked past him and back up into the restaurant.

"Sorry for the wait." She said as she opened the bottle and poured a little into each of their wine glasses. "Would you like me to leave the bottle?" She asked. This was the first time she had properly looked at the man in her bosses company. He was good looking, she estimated he was in his early forties. His cheekbones were sharp and his eyes even sharper, the colour of them, she couldn't describe. His light sandy, brown hair was neatly combed back and his suit looked expensive. "Yes, yes. Just leave it and go serve the other customers. I'll call you when we're ready to order." Mason barked at her in a rude way. She made a face at him, behind his back, which to her embarrassment, his company saw. She was slightly relieved however, when he smirked at her in an amused manner.

She took some orders, and supplied a few tables with drinks in the mean time. Bringing a jug of iced water to a table of three men. "Can I get you anything else?" She asked, giving them her best, fake smile. "I can think of a few things." One answered and groped her bottom as she was about to place the jug on to the table. In response she dumped the whole jug into his lap, ice included.

"Oh my, I'm terribly sorry!" She said, trying to sound as sincere as possible. "You bitch, you did that on purpose!" The man got to his feet, swearing and shouting at her, it was quite scary. Taking a step back, she apologised again. "It really was an accident sir, I'm truly sorry." She wasn't sorry, but the man seemed to be getting angrier. By now his friends were trying to calm him down, taking another step back, out of fear he might hit her, she bumped into someone. "What seems to be the problem? I am the owner." Mason pushed her to the side and confronted the man, his managerial smile in place. "The bitch just tipped a whole jug of water into my lap, you need to keep her on a goddamn leesh. If that's the quality of staff around here then maybe you need to rethink who you hire." The man was squared up and in Masons' face now.

"I'm sorry, sir. I shall discipline her accordingly. In the meantime, how about some complimentary drinks on the house? And ten dollars off your meal?" Mason bargained, unmoving and looking the man dead in the eyes. He'd never be put out of place by a man like this. "You still think I'm going to pay for our meals? How about a free meal and free drinks. I think that would be compensation enough for the mess your staff made."

Willow couldn't help herself, she snorted loudly at this mans arrogance. Earning a death glare from him. Mason turned his head and mumbled to her. "My office. Now." She sighed and walked away before she caused anymore problems. She slammed his office door behind herself and sat down in the chair in front of his desk, like a moody teenager. "It's not too late to quit you know." Frederick sat in Masons' chair and spun around in it. "Well, you've got your wish, i'll probably be sacked. I'm so stupid… I should have just ignored him or told Mr. Verger that I didn't feel comfortable serving him." She started to untie and pull the platt out of her hair, letting it all hang over her shoulders in shiny waves and soft curls.

"It's probably for the best." He said, still spinning in the chair. "Are you going to tell me what you mean? Why the hell are you telling me this is a bad place all of a sudden? You've been following me to work for a few weeks now and you never said a thing." Before he could answer her, the door opened. Mason stood in the doorway, an eyebrow raised as he looked at her and then to his chair which was still moving slightly, though Frederick had already left. "Who are you talking to?" He asked, coming into the room and closing the door behind himself. "Myself, is that a problem?" She asked, almost sarcastically.

He looked at her for a second and then studied his chair, not saying a thing until he was seated. "I'm deducting the price of their meal, from your paycheck." He said, leaning back in his chair and linking his fingers. "He deserved it though." She said, frowning deeply. "He was touching me without permission, that's sexual harassment." Mason shrugged, looking indifferent to what she was saying. "So let him. A happy customer pays well."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Laughing, she stood, shaking her head in disbelief. "Frederick was right, this place really is bad… It's messed up." She removed the badge from her dress and threw it at Mason. "You can keep your paycheck, I quit." She opened the door, and spoke loudly, enough for everyone else to hear. "I'm not here to whore myself to your customers, just so you can line your pockets with money." With that, she slammed his office door behind her, leaving a rather shocked Mason Verger behind. Dashing to the staff room, she grabbed her things, shoving her clothes into her bag, she'd wear these clothes home for now. Abigail would probably pick them up and return them for her one day.

She hadn't had an outburst like this for a while, she could feel her heart thumping against her chest and the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she marched through the restaurant with her head held high and left. Stopping next to her car, she looked up to the sky, closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm down. Once she felt calm enough, she threw her stuff into the passengers seat and got into the car, She buckled herself in before putting the keys into the ignition to start it.

She tried several times, pumping her foot on the gas pedal, but nothing. The car wouldn't start. "Can my day get any worse…" she said to herself and got out. She moved around to the front of the car, and opened the bonnet, not that she knew what she was looking for. She stuck her head in and played with a few things, but she was none the wiser. Sighing she moved away, leaving the bonnet up and went to retrieve her phone.

She looked through her bag at least ten times, even tipping all of the contents out into the drivers seat, before coming to terms that she had left her phone at home. She ran a hand over her face in frustration and slammed the bonnet shut. "Problems?" She turned at the voice, it was deep, foreign. "More than one." She answered, it was the man Mason had been lunching with. He smiled at the answer as he stood in front of her. "I hate to ask, but do you have a phone I could use? I think I must have left mine at home this morning." She had expected him to say no, but instead he fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her, without a word.

"You're a life saver." She said with a smile and tapped the number in. It rang for a long time, before anyone bothered to answer. "Hello?" Jack answered, questioning the call from an unknown number. "Jack, it's me. Sorry, I'm using a...Friends phone." She looked up at the man, he smiled a little again, she noticed a small scar on his top lip. "My car won't start and I've quit my job." She said without hesitation, she knew he'd lecture her about it later. "You may have to wait a short while, but I'll come and pick you up." Jack said, she could hear how busy it was in the background.

When the call was done, she passed the phone back and thanked him again. "Would you like me to wait with you?" He asked. Pulling a cigarette packet out of his pocket, he proceeded to place a cigarette between his lips and light it. "I don't want to be a bother, I'm sure he'll be here soon." She said, watching his hands and lips as he lit up. "Your boyfriend?" He asked, looking down at her. Willow laughed in reply, she had never had someone ask that before about Jack. "Noooo, he's my guardian." She said and smiled at him. "Guardian?" He questioned. She watched as the smoke circled around him, it made him look a little menacing, but rather cool, in her opinion.

"My parents passed away when I was thirteen, Jack has looked after me since." She was used to answering questions about this, it was an unusual thing, to be brought up by a single man, that wasn't your father nor a relative. He didn't say anything to that. It was a nice change, people would usually tell her how sorry they were and remind her of how hard it must be, to be parent-less. "How old are you?" He asked instead. She raised an eyebrow at his casual small talk, he wasn't a man of many words by the sounds. "Twenty-one." She answered. "How old are you?" He raised his own brow, and smirked around his cigarette as he took a drag. "Older than you." She watched as he dropped the cigarette to the floor, and stepped on it with his foot. "Well, that's hardly fair." She answered and frowned at him a little.

"Why were you working for Mason Verger?" He asked another question, ignoring her protest. She huffed slightly, but answered anyway. "My friend helped me get the job, I haven't had much luck in the employment side of things. Well… Today proved as much. Why were YOU meeting with Mason Verger?" She said, looking at him expectantly now. He looked back at her, amused again. "Business. I helped Verger buy his restaurant, and he does some work for me in return. I don't agree with a lot of things he does, but he works hard." Willow wasn't expecting that reply, but it was good enough for her. It confirmed that Verger had indeed borrowed money. "What is your favourite food?" He asked. She looked at him quizzically, she wasn't sure where he was going with these questions. "I like seafood?" She said, still looking at him, a little confused.

"Wonderful. And your name is Willow?" She nodded. "Willow Graham…" She mumbled, she was completely confused now. "And you are…?" She asked, she didn't like not know the mans name when he knew hers. He held out a hand "Hannibal Lecter." His name rolled off his tongue smoothly, his hand was rough against hers as she took it. She blushed a little when he brought it up to his mouth to kiss it however. "I hope we see each other again, soon." He said, dropping her hand. Nodding his head to her, he turned and walked away, back toward the direction of the restaurant. Had he followed her out here just to talk to her about such minor things?

"Strange man…" She mumbled to herself as she removed the shoes she was wearing and threw them into her car.

"That jackass said what?" Jack was pretty angry, Willow had been telling him everything that had happened. "That's when I walked out. I'm sorry Jack, I know it was a job, but I wasn't going to stay and take that abuse." He nodded in understanding and patted her shoulder. "No need to apologise, you did the right thing. Though I would have broken a couple of fingers, instead of tipping water on that guy." Jack commented, making Willow smile. He had eventually picked her up, after an hour of waiting. She was now having to sit in the office he was using at the police station though. "How's the case going?" She asked. The incidents had been all over the news, usually people going missing wasn't something that would be considered big news, but these were children and eight had gone missing in the space of a few days. It was an unusual case, even jack seemed baffled.

"Not well." He answered truthfully. "The evidence is sparse, there's no connection between each child, both male and female have gone missing and they range from the ages of ten to sixteen. So where do we start?" He was asking himself this question more than anything, this case had really caught his team off guard. "Abduction is the most obvious cause here, we've ruled out anything else." She nodded, it was horrible to think that someone could just take a child. She felt for the families, she couldn't imagine how they felt right now.

He toyed with the gun in his hand, listening as the two men standing in front of him, grovelled for his forgiveness. "So. You're telling me, you allowed the merchandise to just… Walk out of here?" He began speaking, his voice low. "And then, you" he pointed at one of the men. "Shot and killed him?" The man nodded, you could see him visibly gulp. Hannibal Lecters displeased look was enough to scare anybody. "Please sir, it was a mistake. I hadn't meant to kill the boy." Sighing, Hannibal lifted the gun and shot the man in the head, killing him instantly. "I wasn't aware I had hired such rude and incapable people. If this happens again, I won't be so merciful." He looked to the other man, who by now looked scared out of his wits, blood from the killed, was dotted on his face. "Incinerate his body, and dump the boys. It will make a lovely gift for the FBI." Hannibal smirked, running a thumb over the scar on his top lip, the gun still clenched in his other hand. He watched the man he ordered, drag the body away in a trail of blood. "And clean this mess you're making, when you're done." He motioned to the blood in an indifferent way, his mind was on other things now.

Passing the gun to a man who had been standing just a little behind him, he took out a cigarette and lit up. "Watch him closely Abel, if he messes up, shoot him." Hannibal patted the man on the shoulder and walked away, his shoes echoed slightly around the shipping warehouse they were in.

Willow sucked in a sharp, loud breath and sat up in bed. Her hair was everywhere, and she was sweating profusely, this always happened when she had one of her dreams. Brushing the hair from her face, she took deep breaths, trying to calm down. She hated how this drained her energy, she hadn't felt like she'd slept at all. Shuffling to the edge of her bed, she slowly rose to her feet, albeit unsteady. Picking up the glasses she wore when she didn't have her contacts in, she put them on. Opening her bedroom door, just as Jack emerged from his own room, in a half dressed rush. She guessed she had done it again. "Jack… Did they find a body?"