Disclaimer: I refuse to write anymore disclaimers! Ch. 6 has my disclaimers covered for the whole story! Mwahahahaha!

Chapter 7: Trust Goes Hand in Hand

It was now approximately 11:30 PM, seven more hours until Hannibal and Clarice reached Paris. She wondered if they would have to go the entire trip handcuffed together, as the metal cuff was beginning to hurt her wrist. But she knew that his trust had to be earned first, and that became her goal.

"Hannibal?"

"Yes Clarice?" Under the circumstances, the doctor could hardly wait to hear his captives next words. She was truly astounding, saying things Lecter only dreamed of: she was flirting.

"I was just thinking about your victims, about all the people you so brutality murdered. Did you like it? Did you like to cut them apart and see their pain?"

Astonishment flickered in the doctor's eyes. "I did not like to cut them apart so much as I enjoyed their taste. Of course, I am sometimes in the mood for a bit of gore, but normally I go through it all for a moment of originality and a delightful meal. Ask yourself, Clarice. Have you ever walked down the street only to hear some obscene stranger whistle at you? I myself do not understand the level of violation a woman might feel, but I wonder what you might want to do to that person. Would you want to corner him somewhere, and slit his throat? Would you drink the blood that poured from his open wound, and bask in the knowledge that you have just helped clear the streets of filth? I myself rarely drink blood, but I do enjoy a nice broiled heart from time to time.

"I hope you don't think of me, Special Agent Starling, as garbage collector. In fact, I will eat whoever I want if it suits me. Keep this in confidence, but I have been eyeing the young lady in front of us. She looks quite tasty. But fear not, as I do not anticipate the death of any passengers on this flight, unless you decide to initiate a massacre... and I don't believe you will.

"Of course I won't. Dammit, hunting you would be so much easier if you were a professional golfer or something. Then at least I could be a step ahead of you." Though Clarice believed her statement, Hannibal noticed how she cast her eyes to the side. Not as if she were lying, but simply a look of flirtation.

"Ah, yes Clarice, but it wouldn't be nearly as fun... Now, may we discuss your case?"

She sighed. "Yes, we might as well. I am growing tired of it, the pictures are rather gruesome."

Clarice pulled several folded papers from within her jacket. "These are all the important papers. Go ahead and look, I'll explain as you go."

Hannibal pulled the top paper and several photographs out of the pile. She was right, they were gruesome. But it was more than that; they were messy and amateur.

"Take a good look at the male, you can see that he has been... dissected. I personally didn't think it looked like your work, but what the hell do I know, right? Mr. Crawford pointed out the surgical lines, which are similar to your past victims. I believe that is where the similarities end. He is a teenage boy, which seemed... out of your league? And then there's the girl..." Clarice took the photographs from Hannibal and put them in her jacket, now removing one large picture.

"She was found close to the first victim, but the crime was approached differently. Her face is non-existant, that's clear enough. But that's about all for her. It does look like Cujo attacked her, but the forensics showed human teeth as the cause of damage. That's all that we have... oh, wait, turn that picture over. You see the smaller picture taped to it? Read..."

"T 'aime." A perfect french accent.

"Yes, that's carved into her back. And the boy, look at him."

Hannibal looked and nodded. "Je... Je t'aime is french for 'I love you.' And they thought I did this?"

Clarice looked sheepishly toward her clear coated nails. "Yes, for a couple reasons. One, you tend to be ornamental with your victims when you have the time. Remember those officers in Memphis? And also, Mr. Crawford thought maybe you were trying to send me a message."

Hannibal's red eyes danced. "I do remember those officers in Memphis. They were very unpleasant company. But, staying with the topic, Jack really thought I was trying to send you a message? I found that a pen and paper does quite nicely... I do believe that Jack should accept his mandatory retirement, he is noticeably slipping."

Clarice busied herself putting the photos away. "I agree. Since Bella died, he's really been having a hard time. But, he's a good man, and I hate to see him go."

Hannibal gazed at Clarice for a moment, storing her innocence and morals in his Memory Palace. "Clarice, did you think this was from me?"

She didn't skip a beat, but looked straight into his eyes. She stated simply, "No, Hannibal. It's clearly the work of an amateur."

They were both comfortable in their seats, though Hannibal wished she were closer to him. Hannibal stroked Clarice's metal linked hand. "Did you want 'Je t'aime' to be from me?"

She thought for a second, maybe two, and replied with a shake of her head. "I know how you feel for me Hannibal."

Hannibal leaned in towards Clarice, stopping a centimeter from her neck. He inhaled deeply, moving toward her face. "I don't smell fear Clarice. I'm glad, as it would be an unexpected shock if I did. I do smell something though. Something that you cannot possess. But," he inhaled again, "you are drenched in it. Do you know what I speak of Clarice?"

Clarice rolled her blue eyes to the side and added a feminine giggle. "Yes I do. I'm wearing Old Spice."

Hannibal chuckled at the unexpected quip. "Excuse me? Whatever for?"

"I got tired of smelling like a girl. I'm experimenting." Another laugh, another roll of her sweet blue eyes. "Actually, I bought the wrong perfume one night when I was... tipsy. So, I didn't want to waste, and now I smell like a big, strong man."

The thought of his Clarice wearing Old Spice brought whimsy to the doctor's intense eyes. He turned to the window to hide a laugh, knowing that Clarice was putting a trophy in her mental room of accomplishments for making him break his concentration.

"Tou che Clarice, a lovely anecdote."

As Clarice laughed at Hannibal, she felt the handcuff drop from her wrist. Her first goal was met within the hour... he trusted her.

*~*~*~*~*~*Sorry this has taken so long for me to get up, I have been struggling with my crazy homework. Anyway, enjoy this installment, I hope to have the next chapter up by Monday. No, no, I will (looks to the side). Yeah, Monday, whoo hoo! So, until then, continue to shiver with antici..............pation!!!