Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I am a great big nobody, etc.
I wrote this one night after re-reading and re-watching Silence of the Lambs, then seeing Hannibal, all in the same weekend. I kind of meshed together book and movie in my head, so Lecter has the maroon eyes and everything, even though this story is under the 'movie' section. Oh, well.


This takes places during Silence of the Lambs, sometime in the earlier part before Lecter has given Starling very much information. She's been asking him questions and getting no real answers. Then he interrupts her...
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"If I asked you to give me your hand, Clarice, and promised you I wouldn't bite it... would you?"

There was a moment of absolute silence. Starling wanted to look away, but couldn't. "Yes."

"Good." he purred softly. He reached through the bars and she put her hand in his, finally breaking eye contact. She didn't move and didn't speak. When he slowly pulled her hand back with him into the cage, her eyes snapped up but she still didn't pull away.

Lecter held her hand in both his own. It was the first time he had touched anyone, besides the offensive prison guards, in eight years. He bent over her hand and gave it a gentlemanly kiss. She had a band-aid wrapped tightly around her index finger, and he felt a sudden physical need to take it off... to have her hand, if not the rest of her, naked in his grasp. It was not a sexual need, really, only physical, and he finally gave in to it, removing the adhesive and exposing the ugly cut Clarice had gotten that morning, when she was unloading her dishwasher in a half-asleep state.

She opened her mouth as though to speak, then realized she didn't know what she was going to say.

"A great many people would consider your actions very stupid" he said.

"You gave me your word, Dr. Lecter. I trust that" Starling answered. Her voice was shaking, but not really out of fear. Why? She couldn't tell. She only watched him as he brought her hand to his lips again, but this time not for a simple kiss. He drew her finger into his mouth and she was seized by a sudden panic that she might never get it back. A second later, the terror subsided as she felt his tongue gently probing deep into her cut.

Lecter would have liked to close his eyes at this point, but he knew that soon she would leave and he would be once more, probably for years, without human interaction. He wanted to memorize her, to drink her in with all of his senses. So he kept his eyes open, and noticed that she didn't even flinch when he closed his teeth gently around her. He soon had Clarice bleeding again, immensely enjoying the taste of her blood. The unmistakable taste of people. It was odd... there had been a time once when he had felt that he would never miss people, if they had vanished suddenly from his life. He had despised them. He still did, only now he found himself wishing fervently for a trace of the busy, people-filled life he had once led. It had been so diverting...

He finally withdrew her hand, holding it only loosely by the wrist. "I *did* promise not to cannibalize you, Clarice. But I didn't say anything about tearing off your fingers." He made a sudden movement, which convinced her to jerk violently out of his cage and his grasp.

Starling didn't realize that he was joking until he flashed her a bloodstained smile.

"Clarice." his voice drew her irresistibly forward, but she stopped at arms length of the bars.

"Please don't frighten me like that, Dr. Lecter. What I did was exceptionally unwise. If my supervisors were to find out..."

"They won't. Clarice. Come over here." he stood against the bars, hands clasped behind his head in a relaxed position.

Against her better judgment, Starling did as he asked, and stood facing him only inches away. One bar partially blocked Lecter's perfect view of her face. That would make it more difficult to draw her later, he realized with annoyance. He sighed. "Do you know why I won't give you the help you need to rescue Catherine Martin?"

His unexpected return to their original business caught Starling off guard. "Well...I...I don't know, Dr. Lecter."

"I want you to make an educated guess."

She was silent a few moments, knowing that it was better to take time to think than to give a stupid answer Lecter wouldn't like. "Because you want me to figure it out for myself, because it would amuse you for me to do so. You have nothing to gain from telling me outright."

"Right. In a manner of speaking, anyway. I do want you to figure it out on your own, Clarice, but just not yet. You see-"

"If we wait any longer Catherine Martin will die. Please, Dr. Lecter, tell me what I need to know to hunt him down."

He was annoyed to see her slipping into the businesslike, aggressive persona which irritated him so. "Be careful, Clarice." he said, allowing a hint of warning to creep into his voice. "Be very careful not to aggravate me by abandoning your personality in favor of an opportunity to press me for answers. I did not ask for your hand as some kind of bribe. Do you know what I could do from this position? I could-"

Without moving away from him, she interrupted him bravely. "Don't, Dr. Lecter. I'm sure I could figure out what you could do to me from this close a range, but I don't want to hear about it right now."

"Very good, Clarice. You almost kept your voice from shaking."

Ignoring his comment, Starling asked, "Will you at least tell me *why* you don't want me to catch the killer yet?"

He took a step back, away from her. "*If* you ask the right questions, you'll get answers. I would have thought the answer to that question is obvious."

She knew she was on the right track...she could tell from his eyes that Lecter was about to tell her something important. "If I knew the answer, Doctor, I wouldn't have asked."

"All right. I'll tell you. It gets extremely lonely in here, Clarice. Once you find the murderer, you won't come back here ever again. You are the only visitor who has interested me in a very, very long time...I would not like to see you disappear, if I can help it."

That gave her pause. Of course! Why hadn't she thought of it before? Of course Dr. Lecter was stalling...it was true, she'd leave the minute she had Buffalo Bill's name, and that would be it. The meaning of the words finally hit her - she would never see Hannibal Lecter again. Disconcerting as Lecter was, she knew she would miss the frank truths he uttered so mercilessly. Even when he mocked her, the moment was not without its redeeming qualities... no matter how she viewed the situation, she had to admit: she *was* going to miss the doctor. Small wonder that he would miss her too - she was, by his own admission, interesting. And she was a woman. Now it all made sense.

"Just realized it, didn't you, Clarice?" Lecter broke in to her thoughts, an amused smile on his face. "This will be the end of our talks. The end of everything, once you rescue poor Catherine Martin." He paused a moment, letting her absorb his sarcastic drawl of the girl's name. "Tell me, will you be glad to see the last of me...Agent Starling?"

Of course she couldn't lie to him. "No, I won't."

Had her frank answer surprised him? She couldn't tell. It did take him a moment before he responded, however...

"I enjoy our exchanges of information. However, I do realize that soon Jack Crawford will tire of my refusal to cooperate fully. Either way, your visits will end in the near future. That is, unless you can think of an alternative..."

Suddenly Starling had an idea. Should she mention it? She knew she was authorized to say anything she wanted in order to wring the name from him, but this was going a bit far... As the silence stretched out, she tore herself from his quizzical gaze and decided, all right. What the fuck. I'll do it.

"I have an idea, Dr. Lecter." The words were tumbling out in a rush. "We haven't even talked to Senator Martin yet, at all. She doesn't know you know anything. We'll catch Buffalo Bill, and I can tell her how useful you've been in profiling him. She can get you transferred to a federal place, a cell with a view, whatever you like. I'm sure she can, and once you're there it'll be easier to work the paperwork so I could come in next time Behavioral Science can't figure something out. I could come back...we could start 'exchanging information' all over again. Give me the name and I'll do it."

Lecter considered a moment with a faint smile. "No." he said finally. "For two reasons. The obvious one, as I'm sure you've already realized, is that once Buffalo Bill is caught, no one cares what I did or did not do. The case is closed. If anybody wants to make a deal, they'll need to fulfill their part first. Second, I don't feel like becoming an FBI agent, on call every time someone goes on an insane rampage."

"I'm not stupid. Of course they won't have the name until they've given you what you want. And I definately wouldn't bother you with all of our cases, only the ones that might... interest you" Starling countered.

"What if, God forbid, the world somehow purged itself of serial killers? Would you still come to visit me, Clarice? Hmmm?"

Starling licked her lips, trying to formulate a response quickly. But it was hard to think and reason under Lecter's intense stare. If she said yes....

"Yes. I'd do it anyway."

A few moments passed in silence. "Talk to her then. See what she says. And I'll think about it." Starling felt a sudden thrill run up her spine as he leaned forward to say something else. His whisper was so soft that she had to come up close to the bars to make it out... "If you'll forgive the impertinence... Just how old are you, Clarice?"

None of his damn business! "Old enough," she answered, irritated.

"Good." He reached through the bars, put his hands on her shoulders, and pulled her close. When she hesitantly reciprocated the touch, he smiled and moved in for the kiss.

Being held up against the bars of Hannibal Lecter's cage, as his mouth approaches your face, is probably one of the most frightening things that can ever happen. Starling didn't seem to mind it, though, and their lips met for a few brief seconds.



It was Lecter who pulled away first. Apparently, the girl was not scared away by all of the "Hannibal the Cannibal" hype...she actually seemed to view him *occasionally* as a regular person. Well, he could live with that. Better to be treated with interest and wary respect, than with irrational terror or freak-show amazement.

And she'd proved her intentions; she'd trusted him enough to kiss him. After a moment like that, he hardly expected her to go back on any bargains they might make. Time to do a little trusting himself, then. The possibilities were enticing... a window, a friend, and protection against the boredom that always hovered just around the corner.... If she failed him, he could always write it off as a human-nature experiment with unexpected results. But if it succeeded...

There was only one way to find out.

Dr. Lecter's maroon eyes held Starling motionless. In the deadly silence, he finally spoke, quietly and distinctly: "Quid pro quo, Clarice. The man you're looking for lives in Belvedere. His name is Jame Gumb."

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The end. Well, this was just another one of those what-if stories. Now I will proceed to shamelessly beg on my knees for reviews. Please review and tell me what you think. If you want to be lazy, just make a :o) if you liked it. Or something. Anything. Please! Otherwise you'll all make me go crazy. Then I'll end up going for therapy, and feeding my face to dogs, and we all know how that ends up....