LOL Thank you all for you extremely kind reviews. I am so glad that you are still here reading this. Okay, I promise to finish soon… Real soon. Oh yes, I must not forget to give credit where credit is due: Karma is begging for recognition for her cheese grater idea. (She suggested it, I did the rest.) There you go, Karma, I hope it soothes your ego. Chameleon, it wasn't going to be twenty chapters in the first place, but the GD and assorted others keep adding to it. (Yes, my evil cohorts, you know who you are.) I think that's all. I'll go back to listening to the classical station and finish the chapter. Nothing else should tempt fate, the GD promises. (He HAS to promise, since he's a bit tied up at the moment) Okey dokey, dear ones, here we go!

*****

The cold and fear seem to absorb into each other and close tightly around Starling as she waits against the basement wall. She can see the doctor's imperial figure crossing the basement towards her and the Dragon. His face is calm but carries an undercurrent of anger. He is very deadly. The Dragon steps away from Clarice, coming to face Dr. Lecter. Even in the dim light, the Harpy glitters like the eyes of a snake. The Dragon lunges, and if Clarice were to imagine hard enough, she could see a red tail lashing the air as he does so. Lecter is prepared this time, and meet him head on. The men grapple in front of her, each struggling for purchase and the upper hand. Another flash of the Harpy, and Clarice hears a scream that is, for the first time this night, not her own.

The Dragon staggers back a few feet, gripping his shoulder where he was stabbed. Twisted teeth bared, he launches himself back at Lecter. Again, he is driven back, a little too far this time, as he almost steps into Starling's lap. She cries out, and Lecter's eyes meet hers. It is a look very few have seen, and most who do are guaranteed an almost certain death. She sees the hunger in his eyes, can see what the world has termed 'Monster' staring out at her. A shiver works its way through her body, thoroughly chilling her. The Dragon sees it too, and his steps falter slightly as he begins to confront the doctor once again. The Dragon is no longer standing upright, but slightly hunched, trying to protect his cut abdomen and the stabbed shoulder. A wicked grin crosses Lecter's face as he lunges forward, a half-snarl issuing from his parted lips.

The Harpy lashed out, quick as a mongoose striking at a cobra, and Lecter danced back just as quickly to avoid the arterial spray that erupted from the Dragon neck. A few drops of blood his face and he wiped them away, a slightly smug expression on his face. The Dragon twitched slightly on the concrete floor just beyond Starlings bound feet as the life bled out of him. She heard a last gurgle and watched as the body fell still. She was stunned, and couldn't take her eyes from the man that lay before her, when she finally did, they came to rest on the man standing before her. She held her breath as he wiped the blade on the untucked tail of the deceased's shirt, and then stepped to her. Dr. Lecter knelt down gently next to her, near her feet, and cut the rope binding her ankles. He shuffled closer to the wall and gently reached for her wrists. The pain that had been momentarily forgotten made itself known, and Clarice screamed as the shifting of her arms brought her into contact with the wall.

Lecter reached out and touched her face briefly, soothingly. He pondered for a moment, with Clarice's gaze sweeping over him. How to get her upstairs without causing her much more in the way of pain? There really wasn't any good way to do this, but he had to try to avoid her back as much as possible. He helped her to her unsteady feet, and once she was away from the wall, got a good look at the bloodstain there. Pushing the image away he bent again while supporting Clarice and slung her over his shoulder. He was very aware that is was not a dignified position for her, and that he probably looked like a Neanderthal dragging the captured woman back to his cave. He carried her up the stairs, leaving the body of Darryl Conrad where it lay. there would be time for him later.

*****

Clarice recognizes her bedroom from her upside down viewpoint. Not that the viewpoint was all THAT bad, considering she was getting a nice view of the doctor's rear end. Something in her pain dulled mind was jumping around excited about that, but she couldn't quite grasp it. She felt herself lowered again, being supported by his strong arms. He helped her to lie on the bed, and paused to stroke her hair before he headed in the direction of the bathroom. She could hear the cabinets being opened and closed. She tried to shift and was rewarded with a shock of pain. Too bad, she had kept hoping that it was just a dream.

Hannibal Lecter pushes through the cabinets both above and below Clarice's sink, hoping to find something that will help him. All she had to offer was a mediocre first aide kit that contained the bare essentials as antibacterial ointment and Band-Aids. There was half a roll of medical tape as well, the waterproof kind. He grimaced, resigning himself to the fact that he'd have to call the authorities and let them treat her. He gathered the first aide kit and a couple towels into his arms before heading back to the bedroom. He noticed Clarice watching him through pain glazed eyes.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She sucked in a deep breath as he lay the supplies on the bed beside her and once again knelt to look in her eyes. She really couldn't pull back as he again reached up to her face to caress it. He didn't answer her question, only looked at her with those maroon eyes. Okay, a different question. "You promised that you wouldn't call on me again."

"And I'm not, Clarice. Let us say I am here by divine intervention, shall we? If I were here to call on you, you would be laying dead on the basement along with Mr. Conrad." he had risen as he spoke, and settled himself on the bed, picking through the supplies he had. all Clarice had was a clear view of his knee cap, the dark fabric stained with dust from the numerous scuffles he had endured that evening. He took a towel and stood from the bed again.

"Don't go anywhere, Clarice. I will be right back." The tone of his voice indicated that he found his little warning to be amusing.

Well, let him be the one indisposed next time and we'll see how funny it is. Like I could go anywhere anyway. She grumped in her mind, hearing water being run in the tub. He came back with the now wet towel and resumed his seat on the bed.

"Now, this is going to hurt a little. Your back is really a mess." And he wasn't kidding. Clarice gasped as he began wiping blood from around the wound. Every now and again a corner of the terry cloth would catch in the wound. She squirmed whenever this happened, earning herself reprimands from the good doctor.

"That hurts, you know." she informed her, voice having gained a little strength.

"I warned you that it would." he looked through the meager supplies and sighed. "You should invest in a more useful first aide kit."

"Well, I wasn't expecting to be attacked with a friggin cheese grater in my own home by some serial killer, you know."

Starling swore she heard a chuckle from him as he resumed his cleaning process. He could do little more than dab away the blood, getting a deeper glimpse of the wound. he could clean it better if he took her into the shower, but he was sure that his little FBI agent would not approve of him seeing her unclothed and in the shower. He did his best with what he had, humming softly to himself as he worked. Clarice let her displeasure be known once again.

"That HURTS!" it was just short of a yelp as she moved away from him as well she could.

"So you've informed me before." she tried to twist her head to look at him, and he opened the towel wide, placing it over the bloody mess. "Relax, Clarice. I will go get you some pain relievers and be right back." He stood once again and headed down the stairs, closing the bedroom door behind him. Clarice let her head settle into the pillow and sighed, fluffing loose bangs from her forehead. What a wonderful evening this had become.

*****

Dr. Lecter had not lied to Starling when he said that he was retrieving some pain relievers for her, but he had not told her what else he had to do. He was slowly coming back up the basement stairs carrying the heavy weight of a dead body. He wanted to have a little fun since he was having to call the authorities. He paused ta the top of the stairs, looking up at the banister above him. It would work. The body of Darryl Conrad is carried up the stairs, and he pauses on the landing, lowering the body. He pulls the remnants of the ropes that bound Clarice from his pocket. They were still of good length, even after being severed by his Harpy. It takes him a few minutes to finish the task, and he is pleased with the results as he leans over the banister to look down on the body.

Back down the stairs to complete the next task. He finds her Rolodex in the kitchen, by her phone. A few moments of rifling through it provides him with the number he wants. The man he was calling would surely alert the local authorities and emergency personnel for him. The phone is lifted from its cradle and he dials the number with long, slim musician's fingers. He waits through the rings, tapping his fingers idly against the counter.

"FBI, Behavioral Services." the woman's voice is clear and young. It makes him smile.

"Yes, can I please speak to Jack Crawford?"

"May I tell him who's calling?"

"Just an old friend, he'll know what I mean."

"Okay. Hold please." he is placed on hold accompanied by irritating elevator music. Fortunately his wait is not long.

"Crawford."

"Well, hello, Jack. It is so good to hear your voice, again. It has been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Who is… Oh god." you can hear the realization drop into Crawford's voice with the sound of a stone being dropped into a pond. "What do you want?"

A dry laugh escapes Lecter's lips. "I'm glad you remember me too, Jack. But, this is not a social call. No. I wanted to let you know that the Red Dragon paid a little visit to your protégé."

"You monster. If you've done anything to harm her, Lecter."

"I assure you, I have not. She does need medical attention, Jack. He did rough her up a bit." He can hear Crawford talking to someone else in the office, hear the intensity and anger in his voice. Torment was such fun. "I have to go now, Jack. Take care, and do hurry."

"Lecter!" the name was issued just short of a yell.

"Ta-ta." he replaced the phone and let his fingers linger momentarily on it. He turned to go upstairs and give Clarice her promised pain relievers, and to say goodbye. Fortunately, goodbyes aren't forever.

*****