Disclaimer: I do not own Clarice Starling, or Hannibal Lecter. I am not profiting at all from this story, just writing it for fun. I DO, however, own Hanna Clara Lencharint, Melinda Lyle, Mimren Wizt, and the other passle of original characters in the story.
About the story: It starts out a bit slow, but trust me, it gets more exiting.
And now to the story...
Clarice woke with a start. She was drenched with sweat, and tears ran down her face. Her breath was fast, as if she'd been running. She'd had the same dream, the dream with the lambs. The cries still echoed in her head. The room was pitch black. She tried to remember where she was. The cries were still there. She could still hear it. She sat up in the bed, and she remembered-She was in England. Her hand went to the other side of the kingsize bed, but she felt only sheets and blankets, no warm comforting body to sooth her, to take her in his arms and tell her she was safe, that it was all a bad dream. The cry still filled the air. She got out of bed, and walked slowly towards the sound. She saw a dim light down the hallway, and went to the room. Before she got there, she heard a deep voice singing softly.
"Hush, little lamb, your daddy is here. You'll always be safe, there's nothing to fear." He sang. "Hush, little lamb, yes, silence your screams. I've got you, so sleep, and have many sweet dreams."
Clarice bit her lip, torn between a smile and a frown, and peeked into the room. Hannibal was sitting in a rocking chair, their tiny daughter in his arms. Her wails were softer, and soon they were down to a whimper.
"Is she hungry?" Clarice asked softly.
"No, she just wanted some help getting back to sleep." Hannibal said. "What are you doing up? Have you been crying?" He asked, looking at her.
"Bad dream." Clarice said, coming into the nursery.
"You go back to bed." Hannibal told her. "You need your rest."
"I want to hold Hanna." Clarice said.
Hannibal glanced down. "She's nearly asleep."
"But not all the way. Let me finish rocking her." Clarice said. "I haven't gotten to spend any time with her at all." Hannibal smiled. "She's only a few days old. There wasn't that much time for you to spend with her."
"It seems like longer." Clarice said as she took the new-born in her arms and sat down. Hanna Clara whimpered a bit louder, but when she was comfortably situated in her mother's arms, she soon fell asleep.
"Such a sweet little Lamb." Hannibal whispered.
"I wish you wouldn't call her that." Clarice said. She got up and put her daughter in the oak crib, covering her tiny body with a pink knit blanket. Hanna stirred, but didn't cry. Hannibal led Clarice out of the room.
"What was the dream about?" Hannibal asked when they got back to their bedroom.
"The lambs." Clarice said, sitting down on the bed. "I'm serious when I told you I don't want you calling her your 'lamb'. I also hate that lullaby you made up. I know you did it to bother me."
"Not to bother you." Hannibal said. "To HELP you. If you can replace your image of lambs from a bad incident to our daughter, I think you'd be able to get over this."
Clarice sighed. "Couldn't you have done it with something else?"
"Only if you can take something else, put it as your first priority, the thing you love the most." Hannibal sat down next to her, pulling her close. He felt her tense when he touched her, but she relaxed almost immediately. Hannibal couldn't very well blame her. One of his biggest fears was that her decision to go with him was based on the fact that she was doped up on morphine that night. He was sort of right: She decided to stay with him once she was in her right mind, but she had been extremely jumpy for a while, and very formal. It had been nearly a year after they'd left Paul Krendler's lake house before they became lovers. Hannibal had proposed a few times, but Clarice had always declined, stating that their alias's were married, and it wasn't necessary for them to be. She still had doubts, in the back of her mind, even if she didn't acknowledge them. There marriage would be the final step, once she felt totally safe with him.
"Hannibal?" She asked sleepily.
"Yes, Clarice?" He asked.
"We need to start calling each other by our aliases." Clarice said. "Or we might confuse Hanna. Or she might spill our secret unintentionally. And we should start now, so we can get used to it before she starts to comprehend words and phrases."
"Clever. I should have thought of that myself, Clarice... I'm sorry, I meant to say Celcira."
"I'm tired," She said, yawning. She wiggled out of his grasp, gave him a quick peck on the lips, and snuggled under the down quilt. He went to his side of the bed and climbed in, flipping off the lamp.
"Goodnight, Able Lencharint." She said.
"Goodnight, Celcira." He replied.
The phone rang, and Hannibal picked it up quickly before it could disturb Clarice or Hanna Clara. "Hello?"
"Able!" A female voice cried. "How are you?"
"Hello, Mimren." Hannibal sighed. This woman was REALLY getting on his nerves.
"I was curious as to why you haven't been at the University in the last few days." Mimren Wizt was a psychology professor at the college where Hannibal taught history. "You aren't ill, are you? Celcira really should take better care of you."
"Celcira gave birth to our daughter on Tuesday." Hannibal said. He smiled, imagining the look on Mimren's face.
"Oh..." Her voice had a definite tone of dissapointment. "What's her name?"
"Hanna Clara Lencharint. Listen, I really have to go..."
"Oh, yes. Of course. Well, I'll have to come by and see her. Mind if I stop by later this afternoon?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Yes, this afternoon. Well, I'll see you later. Bye." And she hung up.
"Who was that?" Clarice asked, coming into his office.
"Mimren." Hannibal said.
"Oh. What did she want?"
"She wanted to know why I hadn't been at work."
"Do you love her?" Clarice asked.
"Of course not!" Hannibal said, shocked.
"We aren't married. If you want to be with her, I won't mind." Clarice said.
"Liar." Hannibal said. "And what I want is her with a side of potato's. Clarice, I do not love her. I do not like her."
"I believe you. But don't eat her." Clarice said. "Please."
"Why not?" Hannibal asked. "I'd be doing the world a favor."
"For me, please." She begged. "I wish you would give it up all together. I'm so scared someone's going to catch you."
"You're the only one who ever got close enough." He said.
"Then why did you spend 8 years with Chilton?"
"I was young. I made a mistake. I'm much wiser now." He said.
"I still don't like the odds." She told him. "I'm going to go check on Hanna." She left the room. A few minutes later, she came in with the infant, sat down and began to nurse her. "I don't want her to end up like I did." Clarice said.
"How so?" Hannibal asked.
"I was orphaned, because my father risked his life, and lost it. I went to live with cousins, and went through an ordeal that I've never been able to forget, no matter how hard I try. I went to an orphanage after that, and worked in the FBI, where I met a sociopath that seemed to enjoy digging up my horrible memories, and STILL won't let me forget them. I'm not even going to go into the rest, as you know everything." Clarice said.
Hannibal nodded thoughtfully. "I see your point." He said. "I'll consider it. I promise I'll be more careful. But even if I'm gone, she'll have an exorbent amount of money that should support her for her entire life, and besides, she'll always have you to take care of her."