I would like to extend a great big thank you to Kurt for instructing me on the finer points of html. Kurt, you are definitely The Computer Guru! (I still owe you one more)
Once again the reviews are unbelievable, thanks to all you moosh lovers!
The usual applies; I own no one or nothing pertaining to this story.
The Ritual Part III
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Clarice knew already that she could not turn this letter into the Bureau. There would be too much to try and explain, like why it was written on her stationary, and the cuddle thing, forget about it. So what was there left to do? Maybe if she wrote him back, she could lure him out and capture him. Was that what she really wanted? The thought raced through her mind, that was exactly what she wanted, HIM.
Once again, he had looked inside of her and found her deepest fear, or was it hope?
On one level, it terrified her to be so completely read and understood by another person.
On another level, it was quite liberating to not have to try and be something she wasn't.
Hannibal Lecter knew her, all of her, there was no hiding place in that corner.
All this thinking was giving her another headache. She decided to shower and take a walk, believing her head wasn't up for a jog.
The day was cold and gloomy as she made her way to the park. It was quite deserted for a Saturday, the weather contributing to this she was sure. Sitting down on one of the benches, she began to let her mind wander. She tried to remember her dream from the night before, but it was gone, just like him.
She reached into her jacket pulling out her handcuffs. The same handcuffs that had joined them together six months ago. She caressed the smooth metal as the cuffs slid between her fingers. She wondered how the Doctor had handled the injury to his hand, her answer, with class of course. Like everything else, even the murder of Paul Krendler had been done with class. Did that make it right? In Dr. Lecter's mind it did. Krendler had sold out to Mason Verger, another waste of human flesh, so to speak. Clarice had long resolved Krendler's death in her mind. He had gotten no less than what he asked for. In the dark corners of her mind, she was beginning to see Dr. Lecter's point of view and the scary part was, it didn't seem to bother her.
Then a voice broke her concentration and almost gave her a heartattack.
"Is this seat taken?"
She turned to see Hannibal Lecter standing next to the bench.
"No." Was all she could manage.
"You were expecting me I see." He said as he gestured to the handcuffs she still held in her hands.
"Not really, actually I was just thinking."
"And what, might I inquire has consumed you thoughts so completely on this fine afternoon?"
"Just things, nothing important."
"Now that, I find hard to believe Clarice. And what of the handcuffs? If it wasn't me you were expecting, am I to assume that you were waiting for another criminal to stroll by?"
That caused her to shoot him a nasty look that she couldn't hold as she started to laugh.
"You know you're crazy for coming out here, how do you know I won't try and take you in?"
"I don't Clarice, but it was time we talked, and if you choose to try and take me in, well….
that's just part of the risk I was willing to take."
"You sure put a lot of faith in a FBI has-been."
"Not a FBI has-been, only a woman named Clarice."
That caused her to look from him back to the handcuffs still in her hand.
"How's your hand?" She asked, not looking up.
"It's coming along. A very talented young lady, Erin I believe was her name, was kind enough to re-attach my thumb. It's still pretty stiff, but I manage. My piano playing has suffered, hopefully that will improve with time."
Looking back to him she said, "I never thought you would take it that far. I never understood why you didn't take mine."
"Yes you do Clarice."
Once again her gaze shifted to the cuffs. Several moments passed before she spoke again.
"You're right, I do understand. That's why I have to do this. Give me your hand Doctor."
Dr. Lecter looked into Clarice's eyes, trying to find a clue as to what she had in mind. He was unable to read her at this point. Perhaps she had finally made her decision, but it was quite disconcerting that he wasn't able to see it.
Once again came her request, "Doctor, your hand, if you please."
Slowly he raised his right hand and extended it to her, his eyes never leaving hers.
Clarice took his hand and placed one of the cuffs around his wrist, snapping it closed. She then placed the other cuff around her left wrist, securing it as she had his.
As they once were, they stood again, linked together by steel.
Dr. Lecter, still not sure about what to do about his latest confinement simply said,
"So, you've made your choice then?"
"I have." She replied as she held her cuffed hand out for his.
He took her hand in his, thinking she had actually pulled this off without him knowing exactly what she was planning. His eyes reflected his admiration for her, which he didn't try and hide. She deserved it, she was owed the satisfaction of winning a well-played game.
As she looked into his eyes, she realized what she was being given, acknowledgement from the only person she ever cared to receive it from. With that she smiled and said,
"Let's get outta here."
"And where are we going, if I might ask?"
"I thought I'd leave that to you. I've made enough decisions for one day."
Smiling, he squeezed her hand as they started to walk.
They walked to his vehicle without a word being spoken, neither daring to break the silence for fear that they would find it was only a dream.
Finally Dr. Lecter said, "Clarice I hesitate to ask, but I must." Turning to her he said,
"Where's the key?"
They both started to laugh, more out of a sense of relief than anything, feeling a little more secure that this was actually happening.
"Well, you see it's like this…. I left the house in kind of a hurry and…well…"
"Clarice."
"I seem to have left my keys at home. I was hoping that after the last time, you would have a key."
"Well then, I guess our situation will make driving a little more interesting. Whatever am I to do with my hand?" He said with a wink, as he opened the car door.
After getting into the car and climbing over the center console, she finally came to rest in the passenger seat and answered,
"I'm sure you will manage to think of something, you always do."
"Touché my dear." He said as he let his thoughts drift briefly to the handcuff key neatly tucked away into the back of his belt, where it remained for most of the day.
As Clarice had so aptly put it, he had indeed, already managed to 'think of something.'
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Kurt, this is your second thank you, for creating a wonderful character in Erin, without whom the GD would have remained thumbless!
