Chapter 2: The Perfect Drug

AN: this chapter is like the first one, the result of combining the book, the movie and the script. It has the mission of setting the foundations of the character's relationship and mutual interest. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot.

It is crazy to want what is impossible. And impossible for the wicked not to do so.

Marcus Aurelius

Hannibal Lecter was standing in front of the glass of his cell, his mind was holding the memory of Clarice Starling's figure in the other side, the trainee Jack Crawford had sent to him. A trainee. He parted his lips slowly to retaining her scent from the credential she gave him just a moment before, when she was already present. He recreated her from his senses as if he had a vomeronasal organ like cats.

He was pondering yet if Crawford had an incredible faith in the girl or wanted to destroy her, both possibilities amused him. Although destroying Jack could be still more fun. Finally, he decided it was the first option: Jack wasn't the type of personality that seeks others misfortune by nature, he was just devil-may-care with the people under his command, so this option got him closer to the second source of fun: good ol' Jack was interested in her, on her potential. He himself must be blind to losing sight of the raw and brutal power of her will combined with her cleverness, and for a moment he almost lost it. It was when she tried to typecast him and he sent her to fly. It wasn't the ambition that had touched his nerve, but the human arrogant urgency of classifying the unclassifiable, and the searching of security in a world where typhoid and swans came from the same place.

And then… What a marvelous surprise: she showed her claws and a beautifully sharped tongue. She challenged him to point his high perception to himself, to look in the mirror, and Hannibal Lecter never declined a good challenge.

And then, Miggs in the cell next to him decided to commit the unspeakable rudeness of throwing his semen to the Special Agent Starling… Why had he feel the urgency of countervail Miggs acts? That, certainly, was something to analyze later. Nevertheless, she had returned to him heeding his request with a stoical expression on her face and performing such a display of resilience and stubbornness that he couldn't ignore it, he had to offer something he knew she couldn't resist; a change in the game but, what life would be without the rush of the unexpected? He thought to himself while he walked towards the glass to have a chat with Miggs, certainly thrown his seed to her wasn't the smartest move with the lady.

Doctor Lecter was watching Barney while the orderly adjusted the leashes around his body to prevent a possible escape, one part of him was upset with himself for actually believing in the trainee scam, there was nothing he would wish for most, at that moment, than having her between his hands to punish her for her rudeness. But on the other hand... He had to be fair, the girl had earned a hint of respect from his part. For the time going, she looked like a worthy opponent, and that made her interesting in his eyes. So, maybe he could wait a while to dine those beautiful eyes and her entrails; now there were other far more interesting plans on the horizon.

Chilton's words came to his mind again, he closed his eyes:

"Years of silence, and then Jack Crawford sends down his girl and you just went to jelly, didn't you? What was it that got you, Hannibal? Was it those good, hard ankles? The way her hair shines? She's glorious, isn't she? Remote and glorious. A winter sunset of a girl, that's the way I think of her. I know it's been some time since you've seen a winter sunset, but take my word for it.

"I know what you're afraid of. It's not pain, or solitude. It's indignity you can't stand, Hannibal, you're like a cat that way. I'm on my honor to look after you, Hannibal, and I do it. No personal considerations have ever entered into our relationship, from my end. And I'm looking after you now.

"There never was a deal for you, with Senator Martin, but there is now. Or there could be. I've been on the phone for hours on your behalf and for the sake of that girl. I'm going to tell you the first condition: you speak only through me. I alone publish a professional account of this, my successful interview with you. You publish nothing. I have exclusive access to any material from Catherine Martin, if she should be saved. "That condition is non-negotiable. You'll answer me now. Do you accept that condition?".

He recalled every word. Who would ever thought that Chilton would be so useful after all? Vanitas vanitatum, dixit Ecclesiastes, vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas.

"The Tennessee State Police will take custody of you at the airport, the governor has agreed".

"The State Police, just what I need", he thought to himself. Of course Barney, the physical thundering, careful, clever orderly had to express his dissent with that procedure and Chilton had to dispose of the guard objections to prove his power... and in a more surreptitious way, his recklessness.

The goodbye to his thoughtful and rigorous caretaker was short but meaningful, they both knew that Lecter would try to escape, they both knew that, hopefully, they wouldn't see each other again. And after that... the sunset.

For a moment, Doctor Lecter's mind was filled only with colors. Living, vibrant, luminous colors. The vivid amber caress across his face touched a very deep memory in his soul: a sunny afternoon long time ago, Misha running with her tiny feet on the green shining grass, an eggplant so big in her child hands, purple, purple like the stained blood in her dress weeks later in the aftermath of the kill, like this beautiful and merciless sunset.

May the Gods not be in our favor, because every single time the Gods had looked at mankind it had ended in tragedy.

As the aircraft took off and the sun crossed its warm path through his body, he closed his eyes just to feel something close to peace for a minute. But not for too long, because there's no rest for the wicked... Maybe later. How long has passed since the last time he saw the crimson gleam of the blood under the sunlight? How much time since he had watched the sunlight at all?

When he opened his eyes a guard was staring directly at him and while the golden light was lighting his maroon irises, turning them shining and red, the police guard made the sign of the holy cross on himself. Hannibal's reply was a grin behind the mask; this will be fun.

It was all a surprise when he heard that distinct pace in the other corner of the room, her pace that he would recognize anywhere. Again, her voice traveled across the place like a faint whisper, a delicate wave of sound caressing the white walls and the moldings of oak while she was talking with officer Pembry. The measurement of his curiosity equaled his sense of betrayal and anger, that sour taste at the bottom of his tongue. Even so, he wanted to hear what she had to tell. Why was she there? Would she have discovered...? That would be interesting indeed.

"Good morning, Clarice". He finished his reading and turned around, the first thing he saw was her auburn hair shining as if her thoughts were on fire.

He's a cemetery mink. He lives down in a ribcage in the dry leaves of a heart.

He greeted her without turning to face her, taking the time to finish the page he was reading, stating clearly: You came to me, this conversation starts when I want it to.

"Good morning, Clarice", his voice metallic and calculated. Something inside her trembled and fainted a little.

Then he changed his posture and demeanor twisting in the chair in the most curious way, casual and cautious, with his forearms on the chair back and his chin resting on them. He was willing to listen but with the back of the chair covering his torso, and the most sensitive organs of his body. He was displaying a proclamation of distrust.

This of course was a test, as always, and Starling was completely aware of it. But it was the prize that she doubted about. She hoped it was Catherine Martin's life.

"Dumas tells us that the addition of a crow to bouillon in the fall, when the crow has fattened on juniper berries, greatly improves the color and flavor of stock. How do you like it in the soup, Clarice?"

She looked at his sleek head trapped for a second in his luster dark feathers, then again to his maroon ablaze eyes. "I thought you might want your drawings, the stuff from your cell, just until you get your view."

"How thoughtful. Dr. Chilton's euphoric about you and Jack Crawford being put off the case. Or did they send you in for one last wheedle?"

The officers were talking at Officer Pembry's desk.

"They didn't send me. I just came", she confessed lowering the volume of her voice but Lecter could perceive that there wasn't a little shame or another soft feeling in her tone, but the strong will he was slowly becoming to be fond of. Because I'm mad at you, Doctor Lecter, you're fooling everyone around while poor Catherine rooted in some hidden place. I'm equally mad and intrigued.

"People will say we're in love. Don't you want to ask about Billy Rubin, Clarice?".

"Dr. Lecter, you find out everything. You couldn't have talked with this 'William Rubin', even once, and come out knowing so little about him... You made him up, didn't you?". If there's something Lecter and she had in common was their ability to read people, he couldn't trick her this time and that gave him a pleasant chill down his spine. Pure excitement that came to be blended with the contempt and the curiosity.

"Clarice... you're hardly in a position to accuse me of lying", there were mixed emotions under Lecter's perfect facade and his words betrayed him this time, his tone bitter and polite was a sign of how deep this scam had provoked his anger, but at the same time he was willing to give her a chance to prove her worthiness, to confirm that he read her well in the first place.

A little exchange between teacher and student followed, he needed to put her brain in motion, to pump her mind to make her realize that she didn't need a teacher anymore. Become your own master, Clarice. All you need is in the case file, show me who you really are.

"What's your worst memory of childhood?".

He felt the urge to ask. She didn't know of course, how could she? But he knew that maybe this time was the last time he could see her, he felt the compulsion of to have something from her that became right from her deepest self, a glimpse of Clarice Starling's hard core. If he can't consume her at least he can consume her mind.

The subtle changes in her face and her voice, the in crescendo glassy gleam in her eyes, but yet with no tears at all, her stubbornness on remaining unscathed in the outside... All this precious details, he drank them like wine, savoring the bouquet, opening a room in his Memory Palace for her. Clarice and her lambs, an orphan like him.

And suddenly, Chilton entered in scene, with his awful manners told Clarice that she got to leave, another reason to dine the bastard later. Pembry and Boyle crowded in around her, who stared repeatedly in Lecter's direction while she was walked to the exit door.

"Brave Clarice. Will you let me know if ever the lambs stop screaming, won't you?".

But she was stuck, asking the name of the killer, demanding something more of him while she was guided outside... He wasn't the only one who was collecting feelings and memories, ignoring the woods and focused on the tree before her.

Both of them were frustrated now, linked so intimately by the memory told by her and those ones untold by him that almost hurt. That was the moment when he raised his voice, willingly given her the chance to be one step closer to him, a path to forgiveness and a test. "Clarice, your case file".

She threw herself at it. She could only think in her lamb, but something else too: she didn't fear him, she understood the rules that he followed in his MO. His index finger touched hers, caressing briefly her skin. And then, she was out of his life... At least temporarily.

They flung her outside the building like a street dog and there to the airport in a fast car, two police officers escorted her to make sure she wouldn't miss the plane Kendler ordered her to take. All the way she was recalling to herself: He's a cemetery mink. He lives down in a ribcage in the dry leaves of a heart.

She thought again, but this time something ached in her chest.