Chapter 12: A dangerous relationship. (Temporary title?)
They were words she had never spoken. Hearing them whispered into the darkness made Hannibal's heart beat faster. Only she could possibly have made him lose his sense of composure and calm. The handless arm that was about Clarice tightened. He brought his mouth down into the darkness, and fell on something smooth and hard. Her forehead. Hannibal could tell by the small breaths of air touching his chest, which was slightly exposed by his partially opened night shirt.
"I'm glad you've told me." He chuckled, bringing his hand up to touch her cheek. His fingers skimmed about, memorizing every bit of her face that he already knew by sight. Then, taking her chin, his mouth found hers.
She cried out something that was muffled by his kiss, and he drew back in silent questioning.
"You … don't… have to stop…" She whispered, her breath a bit unsteady. Hannibal smiled again. Leaning down, he kissed her again… and then his composure and control was forgotten altogether.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^
Five o'clock in the morning, and Clarice was in the shower. Yet she was exhausted. No doubt that Hannibal was tired as well, but they had to get up and keep moving around. She understood that perfectly well. If anyone saw Hannibal and recognized him, their short time together could come to a screeching and painful halt.
Hannibal came into the room using a scan key, carrying freshly cleaned clothing from the past few days of travel. He began to arrange their things so they'd be ready to leave shortly after Clarice came out of the shower. Yet just as he was about to put his own clothes away, he saw the TV was set to the ever-annoying preview channel, that had nothing but infomercials above the TV schedule. Seizing up the controller, he put the channel to CNN. Then, without glancing at the screen, he began to arrange her things neatly in the suitcase.
"…identified as those of Dr. Hannibal 'the Cannibal' Lecter."
He turned from the suitcases with shocked eyes. There was his face on the screen – right next to a picture of Clarice. On a black bar across the bottom of her picture, in bold white print, read the word MISSING.
"He is believed he might be holding her hostage." A male newscaster appeared on screen, the usual sheets of paper held in front of him. "If you see them, make no approach whatsoever. Call the nearest law enforcement agency immediately. Ddo not try to approach Lecter by any means."
'Good lord" Hannibal thought, moving to knock on the bathroom door. 'Maybe I should pay more attention next time.'
"Clarice! Get dressed! We're leaving!"
The door popped open, and he realized in the back of his mind that she hadn't locked the door. Strange that he should realize such a thing at a moment like that. She looked out at him, wrapped from head to knee in towels.
"What's the rush?" she asked, her skin pink from the steamy room.
"I seem to be holding you hostage." He said, hooking his thumb over his shoulder towards the TV. "My finger prints were identified at your apartment, so it seems. I didn't see the entire broadcast. They think I've kidnapped you."
Clarice lifted a hand, her fingers rubbing at her temples as though she'd suddenly gotten a severe headache. She made a low guttural sound in her throat that worried Hannibal, but he said nothing about it.
"Damn!"
"You're far too fond of that word." He smirked, again wondering how he managed his humor at such a moment. "You could use something more colorful, you know.
"Still; I think it's best we get a move on. People have seen us here, and might have seen the news."
Nodding, Clarice held up a hand that signified he wait, and then slammed the door in his face to finish getting dressed.
Hannibal thought to himself that it was a rather rude thing to do to a man you'd just recently confessed to loving… and then moved on to prove it physically. Smirking, he turned to finish cleaning up their room, using a wet towel in the out-of-bathroom sink to wash anyplace that his fingerprints had touched.
Clarice emerged from the bathroom five minutes later. Her hair was mostly dry, combed through; and there was an after-shower glow to her skin. She wore a pair of black jeans, and a navy blue silk blouse with long sleeves.
"So basically, you can't be seen anywhere without the risk of being found." She sighed.
"That would be the jist of it." He replied smoothly. "We probably can't even get out of the country now."
Clarice nodded. Of course she was familiar with how the FBI worked – especially where it concerned criminal-at-large Dr. Hannibal Lecter.
"I'll have to rent us a new car. We'll get rid of yours." She said, grabbing up her purse and coat. "I can get one with tinted windows in the back, and that way you won't be seen by anyone at all while we're on the road. That would work, wouldn't it?"
"I'm glad you aren't foolish enough to suggest you go back." Hannibal staged, taking up their room key, and handing it to her. "As I said last night… I'm not about to let you go now."
Clarice went to sign them out of their room while Hannibal went to get the car. Just as the clerk was giving her a receipt, she felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked down to see finely manicured nails.
"Clarice!"
'Shit – not now! Not now!' She thought to herself. Slowly turning, her blue eyes met the brown ones of Special Agent Ardelia Mapp.
"Clarice, where the hell have you been?" She looked over her shoulder briefly to the clerk. "Thank you, Sir." She quickly took Clarice's arm, dragging her across the lobby to the private lounge. "Girl, we've been looking everywhere for you! We thought that Lecter had found you! His prints are in your apartment kitchen door!"
'So he was right about them looking through my apartment for fingerprints.' Clarice thought to herself quietly.
"I just wanted some time away." She said in a quiet voice. "Ardelia, why the hell did you come all the way out here? If Lecter has been at my place, as you suggest, then obviously he was there when I was out – or after I left. I haven't seen him. He hasn't contacted me at any time."
"I can see right through you." Ardelia hissed. "What the hell are you doing?? You've never tried to protect him."
"Right through me?" Clarice challenged. "Ardelia, what the hell do you know? If I had seen him again, you would've known about it a long time ago. Either you would have found my body – whatever was left of it. Or… or you would've gotten a call from me. The police would have, at least."
Ardelia examined her friends' face very closely for a long minute."
"Clarice, are you all right? You look like you haven't slept in days."
"I've exhausted myself sight seeing. So what?"
Clarice and Ardelia simply stood staring at each other in a mental stand-off. Neither of them was willing to break down. Clarice wanted to protect Hannibal – and now herself. Ardelia wanted to protect Clarice from what she thought was terrible danger. Yet something seemed totally wrong about all this.
"You were home only two minutes before the police knocked on your door, so I was told." She said finally. "Why did you take off?"
"I walked down to a friends house to say I was taking off, and then I took a plane." She lied. God, this was hard. Lying to Ardelia was something she'd never even tried to do.
"It sure as hell wasn't my house." Ardelia stated. "For one, it's in D.C. And two… Clarice… you never called me that day. Or e-mailed me. Do you want me to believe this crock of shit?"
"I expect you to believe your friends, Ardelia."
They still stared at each other, and then Clarice, from the corner of her eye, could see Hannibal standing just outside the window, watching cautiously. She hoped to God that he wouldn't be seen. Her eyes lowered.
"Would it make you happy if I went home, Ardelia?"
"Immensely."
"All right…" Adjusting her purse over her shoulder, Clarice straightened. "Let's go…"
She saw Hannibal duck around the corner of the building as they came out of it, and over to Ardelia's car. Clarice told her that she had to get her bag out of her rented car, and would be right back. Then, when she returned, she'd left the keys on top of the back bumper, and a note on top of Hannibal's suitcase.
Hannibal,
I had to go with her. Wait for me here. I promise I'll be back.
Yours,
Clarice
They were words she had never spoken. Hearing them whispered into the darkness made Hannibal's heart beat faster. Only she could possibly have made him lose his sense of composure and calm. The handless arm that was about Clarice tightened. He brought his mouth down into the darkness, and fell on something smooth and hard. Her forehead. Hannibal could tell by the small breaths of air touching his chest, which was slightly exposed by his partially opened night shirt.
"I'm glad you've told me." He chuckled, bringing his hand up to touch her cheek. His fingers skimmed about, memorizing every bit of her face that he already knew by sight. Then, taking her chin, his mouth found hers.
She cried out something that was muffled by his kiss, and he drew back in silent questioning.
"You … don't… have to stop…" She whispered, her breath a bit unsteady. Hannibal smiled again. Leaning down, he kissed her again… and then his composure and control was forgotten altogether.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^
Five o'clock in the morning, and Clarice was in the shower. Yet she was exhausted. No doubt that Hannibal was tired as well, but they had to get up and keep moving around. She understood that perfectly well. If anyone saw Hannibal and recognized him, their short time together could come to a screeching and painful halt.
Hannibal came into the room using a scan key, carrying freshly cleaned clothing from the past few days of travel. He began to arrange their things so they'd be ready to leave shortly after Clarice came out of the shower. Yet just as he was about to put his own clothes away, he saw the TV was set to the ever-annoying preview channel, that had nothing but infomercials above the TV schedule. Seizing up the controller, he put the channel to CNN. Then, without glancing at the screen, he began to arrange her things neatly in the suitcase.
"…identified as those of Dr. Hannibal 'the Cannibal' Lecter."
He turned from the suitcases with shocked eyes. There was his face on the screen – right next to a picture of Clarice. On a black bar across the bottom of her picture, in bold white print, read the word MISSING.
"He is believed he might be holding her hostage." A male newscaster appeared on screen, the usual sheets of paper held in front of him. "If you see them, make no approach whatsoever. Call the nearest law enforcement agency immediately. Ddo not try to approach Lecter by any means."
'Good lord" Hannibal thought, moving to knock on the bathroom door. 'Maybe I should pay more attention next time.'
"Clarice! Get dressed! We're leaving!"
The door popped open, and he realized in the back of his mind that she hadn't locked the door. Strange that he should realize such a thing at a moment like that. She looked out at him, wrapped from head to knee in towels.
"What's the rush?" she asked, her skin pink from the steamy room.
"I seem to be holding you hostage." He said, hooking his thumb over his shoulder towards the TV. "My finger prints were identified at your apartment, so it seems. I didn't see the entire broadcast. They think I've kidnapped you."
Clarice lifted a hand, her fingers rubbing at her temples as though she'd suddenly gotten a severe headache. She made a low guttural sound in her throat that worried Hannibal, but he said nothing about it.
"Damn!"
"You're far too fond of that word." He smirked, again wondering how he managed his humor at such a moment. "You could use something more colorful, you know.
"Still; I think it's best we get a move on. People have seen us here, and might have seen the news."
Nodding, Clarice held up a hand that signified he wait, and then slammed the door in his face to finish getting dressed.
Hannibal thought to himself that it was a rather rude thing to do to a man you'd just recently confessed to loving… and then moved on to prove it physically. Smirking, he turned to finish cleaning up their room, using a wet towel in the out-of-bathroom sink to wash anyplace that his fingerprints had touched.
Clarice emerged from the bathroom five minutes later. Her hair was mostly dry, combed through; and there was an after-shower glow to her skin. She wore a pair of black jeans, and a navy blue silk blouse with long sleeves.
"So basically, you can't be seen anywhere without the risk of being found." She sighed.
"That would be the jist of it." He replied smoothly. "We probably can't even get out of the country now."
Clarice nodded. Of course she was familiar with how the FBI worked – especially where it concerned criminal-at-large Dr. Hannibal Lecter.
"I'll have to rent us a new car. We'll get rid of yours." She said, grabbing up her purse and coat. "I can get one with tinted windows in the back, and that way you won't be seen by anyone at all while we're on the road. That would work, wouldn't it?"
"I'm glad you aren't foolish enough to suggest you go back." Hannibal staged, taking up their room key, and handing it to her. "As I said last night… I'm not about to let you go now."
Clarice went to sign them out of their room while Hannibal went to get the car. Just as the clerk was giving her a receipt, she felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked down to see finely manicured nails.
"Clarice!"
'Shit – not now! Not now!' She thought to herself. Slowly turning, her blue eyes met the brown ones of Special Agent Ardelia Mapp.
"Clarice, where the hell have you been?" She looked over her shoulder briefly to the clerk. "Thank you, Sir." She quickly took Clarice's arm, dragging her across the lobby to the private lounge. "Girl, we've been looking everywhere for you! We thought that Lecter had found you! His prints are in your apartment kitchen door!"
'So he was right about them looking through my apartment for fingerprints.' Clarice thought to herself quietly.
"I just wanted some time away." She said in a quiet voice. "Ardelia, why the hell did you come all the way out here? If Lecter has been at my place, as you suggest, then obviously he was there when I was out – or after I left. I haven't seen him. He hasn't contacted me at any time."
"I can see right through you." Ardelia hissed. "What the hell are you doing?? You've never tried to protect him."
"Right through me?" Clarice challenged. "Ardelia, what the hell do you know? If I had seen him again, you would've known about it a long time ago. Either you would have found my body – whatever was left of it. Or… or you would've gotten a call from me. The police would have, at least."
Ardelia examined her friends' face very closely for a long minute."
"Clarice, are you all right? You look like you haven't slept in days."
"I've exhausted myself sight seeing. So what?"
Clarice and Ardelia simply stood staring at each other in a mental stand-off. Neither of them was willing to break down. Clarice wanted to protect Hannibal – and now herself. Ardelia wanted to protect Clarice from what she thought was terrible danger. Yet something seemed totally wrong about all this.
"You were home only two minutes before the police knocked on your door, so I was told." She said finally. "Why did you take off?"
"I walked down to a friends house to say I was taking off, and then I took a plane." She lied. God, this was hard. Lying to Ardelia was something she'd never even tried to do.
"It sure as hell wasn't my house." Ardelia stated. "For one, it's in D.C. And two… Clarice… you never called me that day. Or e-mailed me. Do you want me to believe this crock of shit?"
"I expect you to believe your friends, Ardelia."
They still stared at each other, and then Clarice, from the corner of her eye, could see Hannibal standing just outside the window, watching cautiously. She hoped to God that he wouldn't be seen. Her eyes lowered.
"Would it make you happy if I went home, Ardelia?"
"Immensely."
"All right…" Adjusting her purse over her shoulder, Clarice straightened. "Let's go…"
She saw Hannibal duck around the corner of the building as they came out of it, and over to Ardelia's car. Clarice told her that she had to get her bag out of her rented car, and would be right back. Then, when she returned, she'd left the keys on top of the back bumper, and a note on top of Hannibal's suitcase.
Hannibal,
I had to go with her. Wait for me here. I promise I'll be back.
Yours,
Clarice