Twisted Love Stories

Dream of Me

Chapter Eleven

We should only ever leave a phone ringing for a maximum of nine rings. After that, we must accept the person we're calling is either out, asleep or ignoring the call. As Jack Crawford sat on the edge of his bed in a cheap hotel, the phone pressed hard against his ear, the ninth ring having elapsed some minutes ago, he hoped Clarice was sleeping.

He didn't mean to intrude in her private life, but she had no idea what she was getting herself into.

Never forget what he is…

He shook his head, as if doing this would rid him of the thought. She hadn't listened. That was why they were here.

The phone conversation earlier in the morning had been less than successful. He wanted to know why she was doing this to herself, and to him. But 'I want' doesn't get. In Jack's case, it created false hopes, caused his mind to conjure absurd happy endings.

What has this monster done to Clarice? She was such an angel, such a straight arrow. I don't even know who she is anymore. I should never have sent her to him? It was me who introduced them so is it my fault?

He shook his head again. Now was not the time to think about these things. Crawford had a job to do. He reached into his jacket and retrieved a crumpled note. After abandoning his second unanswered call to Starling, he reread the instructions, skipping completely over the first paragraph which he knew now contained only barbed words and poison ink.

He drew a deep, shaky breath and stuffed the note in his pocket again, sitting back in the taxi, staring blankly out the window.

Lecter prided himself on being inconspicuous and stealthy in almost everything he did. He had smuggled Chilton's favourite gold pen to escape custody, remain three steps ahead of authorities almost his entire life, and travel to the Bahamas only two months after his escape. There was one flaw to his stealth though; Clarice.

On a certain level, Clarice was tuned into the subtle actions and gestures made by her new roommate. She could tell when he was thinking, when he was considering, when he was waiting. He showed all the signs now. Not the signs of regular people. His mind was distant, his head tilted and his glance shooting once to his wrist watch. The action was so quick that had Clarice blinked, she would have missed it.

Knowing he would not give her a straight answer in his current state of awareness, she conjured a plan. They had not left Hannibal's bed yet, but neither seemed to mind. This detail even assisted in Clarice's plan.

What can I say? You just seem to bring out my sinister side Count Lecter.

She moved her position from beside him to resting slightly on top of him, her hands on either side of his waist. She then inched her face closer to his, demanding his full attention. He complied, either confused or amused at her provocative attempts - she couldn't tell. Maybe it was a concoction of both.

"What are you waiting for Doctor?" she taunted. Her nostrils flared as she breathing in his unique scent.

"Waiting, Clarice? I am simply enjoying being freely in your company."

She smiled, feigning sheepishness. "What's the time?"

Showing his small white teeth in a playful smirk, he glanced again at his wrist watch.

"The time is ten twenty-two."

"So we should probably get up and do something soon. Celebrate your new-found freedom."

Lecter's eyes sparked with mischief. "I have something planned." then before she could reply, "But it's a surprise. Unfortunately my dear, you will just have to wait."

She pursed her lips, brushing her palm against his abdomen and watching the subtle tremors that ran up his spine. "Will I need to put clothes on?"

Lecter's eyes blazed and he shifting his weight so he was facing her, propping himself up with his elbow. "It is with a heavy heart that I suggest you wear something from your suitcases."

Clarice rolled lazily from Hannibal and onto the floor, landing with a slight thud and a small groan. "Oh, that was graceful…" she mumbled sarcastically.

"Clarice?"

"Jetlag."

"It was a six hour flight, my dear."

A beat. "Time travel does things to a person."

Hannibal turned so he was lying on his stomach, propped up by his elbows and facing Clarice. He silently admired how good she looked in silk. A quick glance at his watch, "I'm afraid the phone is down. Perhaps you could make your way to the front desk and ask for some fresh towels once you dress. I'll make us an omelette." He winked and her face burned.

She tucked her hair behind her ears, "Of course." she managed. She walked steadily past Hannibal who watched her with great interest as she padded through the lounge room and into her bedroom.

When she emerged in black slacks and a forest green tank top, he was busy in the kitchen preparing breakfast. She payed no attention to the three plates on the bench. When he heard the elevator start, he allowed himself a smile and followed after her.

Starling reached the lobby and smiled at a passing bell boy who was pushing a trolley full of baggage.

He nodded at her, "Morning Ma'am."

"Good morning." She directed her sight to the front desk and stopped dead in her tracks, her next breath catching in her throat. The bell boy was concerned.

"Ma'am, is everything alright?"

She managed to shake her head, her hands covering her gaping mouth. "No… No way. No fucking way." she hissed.

It isn't real. It's all in your head. It isn't possible. He's not here. It isn't real.

The man at the front desk looked around nervously and Starling flung herself behind the pile of bags the bell boy was pushing. She crouched low, glaring through a hole in the wall of bags. The bell boy, whose name tag read Campbell, was beyond confused.

"Is there something I can-'

"Shh!" she cut him off, too afraid to breath, too enraged to blink.

He knew what was happening as soon as he saw the last wisps of auburn hair disappear behind the trolley. Crawford was momentarily rooted in place. His feet felt like lead, his arms like dumbbells. It took everything he had not to let his knees buckle.

I shouldn't be here…

He tried calling out her name but all that escaped his mouth was a strangled cry.

"Clar…" he tried again but to no avail. He stumbled forward, abandoning his suitcase. He saw her eyes widen considerably through the hole the bags made on the trolley.

He quickened his pace and she turned, making a merciless dash down the hallway. His heart ached. He raced after her, dodging a staff member, tripping over his own feet and hurtling directly into the stack of luggage. Campbell's jaw went slack, still struggling to process what was happening. Crawford scrambled to his feet, lurching after Clarice who was at the end of the hallway, her eyes darting everywhere, frantically pressing the button for the elevator.

"Clarice!" Just as Jack reached for her shoulder, Starling jumped back and the elevator doors opened. Crawford went down again, hard. His brows knitted together.

Jack's world began to fade, everything sounded like he was submerged in water. "Claaaariceee…"

There were two sparking maroon eyes hovering over him. He was dragged into the elevator. He smelt chloroform but apparently there was no need. Before the doors had even slid closed, his word faded to black.