Hannibal Lecter scowled, bearing down the streets of Paris like a madman.
Well, Technically he WAS a madman, but if you cared to mention this
particular detail today you risk being stewed in a rather large pot along
with that annoying rabbit. Happy Easter. Hippity Hop Hop.
He came very closer to bowling over a small procession of Easter Worshippers. Either on their way to the church or the local pub…that was for debate, but by the sound of very french curses flying from the silk clad old woman's mouth, it would be the latter. Lecter glared at her and continued on, rounding a corner. Of course, he could be back at the villa, preparing a lovely lunch for Clarice and traditionally tearing apart the religions of the world over a glass of wine, but no. No, No, No, No. She just had to get picky.
Hannibal Lecter hated Easter. He despised it right from its plastic grassy head down it's symbolic, loving heart. The whole holiday just screamed 'EWW!' for any escaped serial killer. Especially Hannibal Lecter, because he was married. Married to an American. And now he was learning just how strong the connection between cadbury bunnies and American Women was.
When Clarice Starling had woken that morning, it was the picture of perfection. Easter was once one of her favourite holidays as a child, a day of candy, worshipping, and spending time with her father, but then it no longer took on a meaning. But when she married Doctor Lecter eleven months ago, maybe it had changed? It certainly appeared to, and everything was glowing with the beauty of spring as she came to conciousness. A boquet of roses, mixed in accordingly with tulips, sat on the stand next to their bed. The windows had been opened to let in the warmish air and sounds of street side bands playing against the church bells' ghostly harmony. All was perfect, and her husband had prepared her a breakfast of the finest pastries and juices in their light dining room.
And then, from the eye of the storm, the hurricane hit.
"Hannibal ," he remembered as his eyes slid over every shop on Rue D'Orsel , "Is there no…cadburry?"
Clarice had asked perfectly innocently, and the concern in her child like voice had sent Hannibal into a flight of concern of his own. Cadburry? Was this a delicacy he had achtually forgotten…? That wasn't possible, It certainly wasn't possible to forget any dish, especially one so important to his Starling, for Hannibal Lecter.
"Cadburry, Clarice?" Hannibal had smiled, a façade, and left it hanging.
"Oh, Hannibal…I never told you?"
She immediately took his hand, dragging him away from a rather delicable crossiant. Clarice took him to the bedroom and began to fish through objects under her side of the bed. At last, she pulled a few American magazines out from under it and sat down, beginning to flip through.
Hannibal watched with rapt attention. 'Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to buy her those? Well, whatever it is, hopefully I can make up for it…What are you saying, Lecter? You can make up for anything. What could possibly be so out of your league that…'
His train of thought was broken. And he saw the car that had derailed them all. There, Clarice held in front of him an advertisement. Not just any advertisement, but a candy. A large, brown rabbit, with the words "bok-bok" displayed underneath. He sat in a chicken coop, and all around were these foiled chocolate eggs, all marked "Cadburry" in loopy writing. Hannibal frowned.
"Clarice, do you really want me to dress up like a rabbit and sit around chicken coops?" He caught her look, and held up his hands defensively. "Not that I won't, Clarice, But really…"
She sighed and shook her head. "No, I want that. Please, Hannibal."
He sighed as the bright blue eyes once again pleaded with him and Hannibal looked to her finger pointing to the eggs.
"Yes, Clarice." He muttered, taking the advertisement from his wife with caution. Clarice smiled, flinging her arms around his neck in a bone- breaking hug. She gave hima quick kiss and hopper up.
"Thank you, Hannibal!"
He nodded, looking down at the rabbit in severe annoyance before setting off.
Hannibal now spotted a little market and started through the crowd towards it. Across the street, a few noisy back packers rushed out holding abgs and ran into their hostel right across the street, where the door was open and loud music was blaring as normal. He sighed as the sounds of "MTV" filled the street with the chattering of many worshippers heading down from or to Sacre-Coeur.
As a large group cut in front of him, he saw a shopkeeper stepping out of the front door and fumbling with a key ring. On the door were the words "CLOSED"
Lecter gasped eyes wide as Easter eggs as he rudely shoved a few people out of his way. They landed in the gutter, and began yelling obscenities to him. Hannibal would later think this rather funny, but he dashed down the street anyway, jacket flying and currently ungreased hair threatening to, gasp, come out of place. (A.N.- Has Lecter EVER had one stray hair in his life?!?)
"Please," He gasped, coming to the shopkeeper and latching onto their shoulder. The frightened woman looked as if he were about to rob her for all the eggnog she had. Wait, wrong holiday. Well, you get the picture. "I need…I need…" (A.N.- Of course, he is speaking in french, as will the woman. But not everyone out there speaks french, so I can't exactly type it out that way, darn it…)
"You need?" she squeaked, staring at him in horror.
Hannibal composed himself, well somewhat, and nodded. "Need. Eggs. Chocolate eggs. Please."
He pulled the advertisement from inside his pocket quickly and unfolded it. The woman took the wrinkled paper into her hands and smiled delightedly, looking up at him as if he had just given her a whole pillowcase full of candy. Wait, wrong holiday again, I swear I'll get it right….
"You're looking for the rabbit."
"Pardon?" Hannibal asked curiously
"The rabbit, you are looking for him, right? Of course you are. Another gentleman came through the other day. Don't worry, I'll take you to him." The woman grinned and yanked on Lecter's arm, dragging him into the store. The shelves were dark, as was everything and luminous forms of milk jugs and cans of soda leered out to him, taunting him to come closer.
She took him back to the counter and stopped, digging in a drawer.
"Please, I just need a few of these eggs. Do you not have any? I can move on, of course…" Hannibal trailed off and she smiled evily, shaking her head.
"Oh no, the boss will like you. You are smart."
"Er…thank you…" He said uncertainly
The woman nudged the keys into a door plastered with ads and cupons, and Hannibal stepped through as she opened it. They were in a hallway now, long and lit by the faint glow of a "Sorte" sign. She continued to smile and marched off down the hallway, shouting as her voice reboudned off the concrete and onto Hannibal's delicate ears, extra sensitive and extra-in- pain.
"Hey Rabbit!"
"What, Nanterre? Haven't you figured out how to work that thing yet…" A gruff voice shouted back, trailing off in annoyance.
The woman, Nanterre, smirked and chose a door, motioning for Lecter to come closer.
He did, eyebrows raised and head inclined to it questioningly. She nodded happily and twisted the knob, peering in cautiously.
"I have a visitor for you, looking for eggs. He's pretty distressed." Nanterre spoke quieter as if Lecter could not hear her. He resisted the childish urge to roll his eyes, and waited. Of course, whatever that thing was probably could do a lot of damage to an old man, like Hannibal Lecter, for instance, but Clarice Starling was sitting at come waiting for her Cadburry Bunny Easter Eggs, and if he couldn't give that to her, surely all gates of hell would break loose! Above and inside Hannibal's mind, lightning streaked across the sky and thunder accompanied it.
"Yeah, let him in." the voice from inside said lazily and Nanterre grinned at Lecter, nudging him forward with a finger.
"Good luck, just go back out the normal way when you're done, Grampa."
He glares at her, fist clenching and un clenching. Grampa. Unfortunately, there was no time to make a snack out of the retreating woman, so Hannibal took a calming breath and pushed the door open, stepping in.
There, on a bed of pillows and straw, sat a rabbit. A rather large rabbit. A rather large bed. And two very big eyes that gazed at him lazily. They were as bored and dull as the rest of the rabbit, who was quite fat but had a nice copper coat to make up for it.
"What do you want, old man?" It snapped.
Hannibal Lecter took a moment to consider. A very big rabbit was talking to him. A very big rabbit in the middle of Paris, sitting around in the back of a grocery store and Lecter was having a chat with him rather than using a few sedatives and going about examining every inch of the beasts mind. Tempting, yes, but so was Clarice.
"Well…you see, My wife is American…" Hannibal tried to explain, clearing his throat nervously and smiling meekly. "She was looking for cadburry eggs, and no offense, but I've never heard of them…"
The rabbit cocked his head slightly to show understanding. Hannibal fumbled with his pockets to retrieve the article. He held it up for viewing.
"So, I guess you would know where they are…?"
The rabbit bobed his head, which Hannibal guessed was a nod, and stood from his hunches.
"Yeah, I can fix your woman up with some eggs. Just hold on."
Lecter winced. 'Fix his woman up with some eggs?' Terrible grammar, terrible manners.
"Hey Twinkle toes!" The rabbit turned his head to a doorway and after a moment of cluttered noises the door opened. Out spewed various object pots, pans, little childrens balls, socks, etc. etc. and riding the wave of debri was a fairy. Not just any fairy, but Tinker Belle. She looked annoyed, dusting off her dress and fixing the bun at the nape of her neck.
"Another one?" She snapped in an American accent, glaring fiercely at Lecter. He resisted the urge to stare at her and instead cleared his throat once more.
"Wha ' Chu doin' that for?" Tinker Belle asked suspiciously and Hannibal looked down.
"Twinkle Toes, just get out the eggs and show the man, god. We need to get movin' here." The rabbit insisted, eyes softening over her. Coveting, Hannibal thought to himself. Tinker Belle smiled charmingly at him, apparently noticing this, and said quietly, as if flirting
"Certainly, rabbit."
She skipped off, leaving a trail of glitter behind, and once she dissapeared into her closet again the Rabbit let out a long whistle.
"Isn't she something?" He asked Lecter, a smile spreading over his features somehow. Ever his Ears perked up in excitement.
Hannibal remained silent, looking up though to the closet and watched it open. Debri no longer fell out, but Tinker Belle emerged wearing a blue dress now, her hair curled and bouncing around her shoulders. She strutted across the room like a showgirl, pushing a heavy covered cart and stopped in front of Hannibal.
"There you go, take your pick."
Hannibal stepped forward, pulling back the tarp and he nodded, it was full of the chocolate wrapped eggs.
"Here, you might need this." Tinker Belle smiled amazingly, handing over a white, plastic basket with a few pastel ribbons glued on.
Hannibal nodded t aking it politely.
"Thank you," He muttered as he began to take out handfuls, filling the basket with at least thirty eggs.
"Good man, and DON'T tell anyone where you got them, ya hear?" The rabbit said cautiously, peering at him with one eye while the other drifted over Tinker Belle's costume.
"Yes, noone." Hannibal muttered, excited as he hugged the basket to his chest.
"Good, now get out of here!" The rabbit shouted.
Doctor Lecter turned; scurrying out of the room as he heard dialogues immediately go between the fairy and the demented rabbit. He hurryed down the hallway, and once into the store battled his way through the asiles to the door. Who knew how late it was now.
Hannibal dashed down the streets of Paris once more, noone stopping to say anything to the old man carrying the Easter basket full of eggs, but yes they thought. A photographer for the neighbourhood newspaper would later marvel at the shocking picture of Hannibal Lecter he had captured that Easter and many a dead F.B.I. profiler would roll around in their graves in laughter. But Clarice was waiting.
By the time Hannibal reached home, Clarice was sitting in front of the television with a scowl on her face. "X-Files" was on right now, and she seemed absorbed until he almost landed in front of the couch.
Hannbal Lecter fell to his knees, panting as if he had just run from the other end of the earth, and leaned on the absket momentarily for support.
"For…You…Clarice…." He sputtered, holding the basket out in front of him. Her eyes lit up, and Clarice flung the remote into the other wall, promptly shattering the fifteenth century vase Hannibal kept in a glass case by the window.
"Oh, Hannibal!" She exclaimed, envelloping him in yet another deadly hug of the day. "Thank you…"
'Thank you? Is that all I get? No reward, no surprise, No KISS?' Hannibal protested in his mind, almost enraged. Clarice gave hima light peck on the cheek and it cooled. He hugged her back.
"You're very welcome, Clarice, Anything for you…"
A.N.- LOL! I loved writing that, I thought it ended up quite a sweet story. Well, read and review! Tell me what you think!
He came very closer to bowling over a small procession of Easter Worshippers. Either on their way to the church or the local pub…that was for debate, but by the sound of very french curses flying from the silk clad old woman's mouth, it would be the latter. Lecter glared at her and continued on, rounding a corner. Of course, he could be back at the villa, preparing a lovely lunch for Clarice and traditionally tearing apart the religions of the world over a glass of wine, but no. No, No, No, No. She just had to get picky.
Hannibal Lecter hated Easter. He despised it right from its plastic grassy head down it's symbolic, loving heart. The whole holiday just screamed 'EWW!' for any escaped serial killer. Especially Hannibal Lecter, because he was married. Married to an American. And now he was learning just how strong the connection between cadbury bunnies and American Women was.
When Clarice Starling had woken that morning, it was the picture of perfection. Easter was once one of her favourite holidays as a child, a day of candy, worshipping, and spending time with her father, but then it no longer took on a meaning. But when she married Doctor Lecter eleven months ago, maybe it had changed? It certainly appeared to, and everything was glowing with the beauty of spring as she came to conciousness. A boquet of roses, mixed in accordingly with tulips, sat on the stand next to their bed. The windows had been opened to let in the warmish air and sounds of street side bands playing against the church bells' ghostly harmony. All was perfect, and her husband had prepared her a breakfast of the finest pastries and juices in their light dining room.
And then, from the eye of the storm, the hurricane hit.
"Hannibal ," he remembered as his eyes slid over every shop on Rue D'Orsel , "Is there no…cadburry?"
Clarice had asked perfectly innocently, and the concern in her child like voice had sent Hannibal into a flight of concern of his own. Cadburry? Was this a delicacy he had achtually forgotten…? That wasn't possible, It certainly wasn't possible to forget any dish, especially one so important to his Starling, for Hannibal Lecter.
"Cadburry, Clarice?" Hannibal had smiled, a façade, and left it hanging.
"Oh, Hannibal…I never told you?"
She immediately took his hand, dragging him away from a rather delicable crossiant. Clarice took him to the bedroom and began to fish through objects under her side of the bed. At last, she pulled a few American magazines out from under it and sat down, beginning to flip through.
Hannibal watched with rapt attention. 'Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to buy her those? Well, whatever it is, hopefully I can make up for it…What are you saying, Lecter? You can make up for anything. What could possibly be so out of your league that…'
His train of thought was broken. And he saw the car that had derailed them all. There, Clarice held in front of him an advertisement. Not just any advertisement, but a candy. A large, brown rabbit, with the words "bok-bok" displayed underneath. He sat in a chicken coop, and all around were these foiled chocolate eggs, all marked "Cadburry" in loopy writing. Hannibal frowned.
"Clarice, do you really want me to dress up like a rabbit and sit around chicken coops?" He caught her look, and held up his hands defensively. "Not that I won't, Clarice, But really…"
She sighed and shook her head. "No, I want that. Please, Hannibal."
He sighed as the bright blue eyes once again pleaded with him and Hannibal looked to her finger pointing to the eggs.
"Yes, Clarice." He muttered, taking the advertisement from his wife with caution. Clarice smiled, flinging her arms around his neck in a bone- breaking hug. She gave hima quick kiss and hopper up.
"Thank you, Hannibal!"
He nodded, looking down at the rabbit in severe annoyance before setting off.
Hannibal now spotted a little market and started through the crowd towards it. Across the street, a few noisy back packers rushed out holding abgs and ran into their hostel right across the street, where the door was open and loud music was blaring as normal. He sighed as the sounds of "MTV" filled the street with the chattering of many worshippers heading down from or to Sacre-Coeur.
As a large group cut in front of him, he saw a shopkeeper stepping out of the front door and fumbling with a key ring. On the door were the words "CLOSED"
Lecter gasped eyes wide as Easter eggs as he rudely shoved a few people out of his way. They landed in the gutter, and began yelling obscenities to him. Hannibal would later think this rather funny, but he dashed down the street anyway, jacket flying and currently ungreased hair threatening to, gasp, come out of place. (A.N.- Has Lecter EVER had one stray hair in his life?!?)
"Please," He gasped, coming to the shopkeeper and latching onto their shoulder. The frightened woman looked as if he were about to rob her for all the eggnog she had. Wait, wrong holiday. Well, you get the picture. "I need…I need…" (A.N.- Of course, he is speaking in french, as will the woman. But not everyone out there speaks french, so I can't exactly type it out that way, darn it…)
"You need?" she squeaked, staring at him in horror.
Hannibal composed himself, well somewhat, and nodded. "Need. Eggs. Chocolate eggs. Please."
He pulled the advertisement from inside his pocket quickly and unfolded it. The woman took the wrinkled paper into her hands and smiled delightedly, looking up at him as if he had just given her a whole pillowcase full of candy. Wait, wrong holiday again, I swear I'll get it right….
"You're looking for the rabbit."
"Pardon?" Hannibal asked curiously
"The rabbit, you are looking for him, right? Of course you are. Another gentleman came through the other day. Don't worry, I'll take you to him." The woman grinned and yanked on Lecter's arm, dragging him into the store. The shelves were dark, as was everything and luminous forms of milk jugs and cans of soda leered out to him, taunting him to come closer.
She took him back to the counter and stopped, digging in a drawer.
"Please, I just need a few of these eggs. Do you not have any? I can move on, of course…" Hannibal trailed off and she smiled evily, shaking her head.
"Oh no, the boss will like you. You are smart."
"Er…thank you…" He said uncertainly
The woman nudged the keys into a door plastered with ads and cupons, and Hannibal stepped through as she opened it. They were in a hallway now, long and lit by the faint glow of a "Sorte" sign. She continued to smile and marched off down the hallway, shouting as her voice reboudned off the concrete and onto Hannibal's delicate ears, extra sensitive and extra-in- pain.
"Hey Rabbit!"
"What, Nanterre? Haven't you figured out how to work that thing yet…" A gruff voice shouted back, trailing off in annoyance.
The woman, Nanterre, smirked and chose a door, motioning for Lecter to come closer.
He did, eyebrows raised and head inclined to it questioningly. She nodded happily and twisted the knob, peering in cautiously.
"I have a visitor for you, looking for eggs. He's pretty distressed." Nanterre spoke quieter as if Lecter could not hear her. He resisted the childish urge to roll his eyes, and waited. Of course, whatever that thing was probably could do a lot of damage to an old man, like Hannibal Lecter, for instance, but Clarice Starling was sitting at come waiting for her Cadburry Bunny Easter Eggs, and if he couldn't give that to her, surely all gates of hell would break loose! Above and inside Hannibal's mind, lightning streaked across the sky and thunder accompanied it.
"Yeah, let him in." the voice from inside said lazily and Nanterre grinned at Lecter, nudging him forward with a finger.
"Good luck, just go back out the normal way when you're done, Grampa."
He glares at her, fist clenching and un clenching. Grampa. Unfortunately, there was no time to make a snack out of the retreating woman, so Hannibal took a calming breath and pushed the door open, stepping in.
There, on a bed of pillows and straw, sat a rabbit. A rather large rabbit. A rather large bed. And two very big eyes that gazed at him lazily. They were as bored and dull as the rest of the rabbit, who was quite fat but had a nice copper coat to make up for it.
"What do you want, old man?" It snapped.
Hannibal Lecter took a moment to consider. A very big rabbit was talking to him. A very big rabbit in the middle of Paris, sitting around in the back of a grocery store and Lecter was having a chat with him rather than using a few sedatives and going about examining every inch of the beasts mind. Tempting, yes, but so was Clarice.
"Well…you see, My wife is American…" Hannibal tried to explain, clearing his throat nervously and smiling meekly. "She was looking for cadburry eggs, and no offense, but I've never heard of them…"
The rabbit cocked his head slightly to show understanding. Hannibal fumbled with his pockets to retrieve the article. He held it up for viewing.
"So, I guess you would know where they are…?"
The rabbit bobed his head, which Hannibal guessed was a nod, and stood from his hunches.
"Yeah, I can fix your woman up with some eggs. Just hold on."
Lecter winced. 'Fix his woman up with some eggs?' Terrible grammar, terrible manners.
"Hey Twinkle toes!" The rabbit turned his head to a doorway and after a moment of cluttered noises the door opened. Out spewed various object pots, pans, little childrens balls, socks, etc. etc. and riding the wave of debri was a fairy. Not just any fairy, but Tinker Belle. She looked annoyed, dusting off her dress and fixing the bun at the nape of her neck.
"Another one?" She snapped in an American accent, glaring fiercely at Lecter. He resisted the urge to stare at her and instead cleared his throat once more.
"Wha ' Chu doin' that for?" Tinker Belle asked suspiciously and Hannibal looked down.
"Twinkle Toes, just get out the eggs and show the man, god. We need to get movin' here." The rabbit insisted, eyes softening over her. Coveting, Hannibal thought to himself. Tinker Belle smiled charmingly at him, apparently noticing this, and said quietly, as if flirting
"Certainly, rabbit."
She skipped off, leaving a trail of glitter behind, and once she dissapeared into her closet again the Rabbit let out a long whistle.
"Isn't she something?" He asked Lecter, a smile spreading over his features somehow. Ever his Ears perked up in excitement.
Hannibal remained silent, looking up though to the closet and watched it open. Debri no longer fell out, but Tinker Belle emerged wearing a blue dress now, her hair curled and bouncing around her shoulders. She strutted across the room like a showgirl, pushing a heavy covered cart and stopped in front of Hannibal.
"There you go, take your pick."
Hannibal stepped forward, pulling back the tarp and he nodded, it was full of the chocolate wrapped eggs.
"Here, you might need this." Tinker Belle smiled amazingly, handing over a white, plastic basket with a few pastel ribbons glued on.
Hannibal nodded t aking it politely.
"Thank you," He muttered as he began to take out handfuls, filling the basket with at least thirty eggs.
"Good man, and DON'T tell anyone where you got them, ya hear?" The rabbit said cautiously, peering at him with one eye while the other drifted over Tinker Belle's costume.
"Yes, noone." Hannibal muttered, excited as he hugged the basket to his chest.
"Good, now get out of here!" The rabbit shouted.
Doctor Lecter turned; scurrying out of the room as he heard dialogues immediately go between the fairy and the demented rabbit. He hurryed down the hallway, and once into the store battled his way through the asiles to the door. Who knew how late it was now.
Hannibal dashed down the streets of Paris once more, noone stopping to say anything to the old man carrying the Easter basket full of eggs, but yes they thought. A photographer for the neighbourhood newspaper would later marvel at the shocking picture of Hannibal Lecter he had captured that Easter and many a dead F.B.I. profiler would roll around in their graves in laughter. But Clarice was waiting.
By the time Hannibal reached home, Clarice was sitting in front of the television with a scowl on her face. "X-Files" was on right now, and she seemed absorbed until he almost landed in front of the couch.
Hannbal Lecter fell to his knees, panting as if he had just run from the other end of the earth, and leaned on the absket momentarily for support.
"For…You…Clarice…." He sputtered, holding the basket out in front of him. Her eyes lit up, and Clarice flung the remote into the other wall, promptly shattering the fifteenth century vase Hannibal kept in a glass case by the window.
"Oh, Hannibal!" She exclaimed, envelloping him in yet another deadly hug of the day. "Thank you…"
'Thank you? Is that all I get? No reward, no surprise, No KISS?' Hannibal protested in his mind, almost enraged. Clarice gave hima light peck on the cheek and it cooled. He hugged her back.
"You're very welcome, Clarice, Anything for you…"
A.N.- LOL! I loved writing that, I thought it ended up quite a sweet story. Well, read and review! Tell me what you think!