As we all know, they don't belong to me. I just borrowed them for the sheer pleasure of it.
My most sincere thanks to Marcus Aurelius, Cristina, Deoceres, Drandmrslecter, Guber, RivanKnight, LoT, Ducki, Steel, and all the folks who, with their kind comments, motivated me to go on.
I hope you like this chapter
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Exchanges IX
The Night Watchman
"I hope I didn't frighten you, Clarice," He sounded contrite, "I couldn't very well yell across the parking lot suggesting that you get his phone, so I called instead to attract your attention to it".
She turned around and there he was, as gorgeous as usual, standing in front of her, the cell phone still in his hand
Under different circumstances she would have been annoyed at him for spooking her. But presently, the sound of his voice, his very presence, produced such a sense of relief, that she just looked into his eyes as in a trance. As if everything that mattered in the world was inside those maroon eyes.
"Hannibal." She whispered, like in a prayer; as if his name was her own personal abracadabra, the magic word that would make all things right. He saw her need for him, and his gaze held her whole, steadying her; letting her eyes dive inside him, until she found there what she needed to uphold her and validate what she had just done.
Never before had Dr. Lecter opened himself to anyone in such a manner, nor did he ever thought he would, but now he did it gladly and it felt right, now, more than ever he knew he could never deny her.
He recalled some lines from Dante's Paradiso,
O lady in whom all my hopes take strength,
and who for my salvation did endure
to leave her footprint in the floor of Hell. *
He continued to hold her gaze as he reached for her hand, and gently pulled her toward him in an effort both to make physical contact and get her moving. His keen perception and his training, told him she was going to experience some post traumatic stress symptoms and wanted to get her home as soon as possible.
"Lets go, Clarice." He said gently, directing her towards the parking lot on the back.
She paused for a second, looking at the phone still in her hand and then back at him she said "he had an accomplice?" It was more a statement than a question.
"Yes, but no anymore," answered Hannibal like he did years before in the dungeon, referring to Miggs.
She seemed deep in thought, as they walked, and then started "Maybe while you drive, I should check the call history on the phones, to see who else they reported to, if anyone. We have to know whom they have been in touch with. What if he lied to me? That wouldn't be a surprise now, would it?" She was on a roll, sounding like a marathon runner after crossing the finishing line, both exhausted and exhilarated, she couldn't stop her mind from racing ahead.
They reached the car, a black jaguar supercharged, and Dr. Lecter, ever the gentleman, opened the door for her and walked around the car to take his own seat behind the wheel.
As soon as he got in the car she went on, " I could check for saved voice mails and memos as well. I could make a note of the phone numbers he called and we can trace them…." She couldn't stop herself.
Dr. Lecter, started the car, smiled at her and touched her cheek gently.
"What you should do right now, Clarice, is take a nap, that is what you need the most."
"There will be plenty of time for us to check the phones. There is no rush."
Clarice looked at him and remembered her dowdy disguise. Self-consciously, she run her hand over her hair, then looked at him quizzically.
He grinned and repeated "take a nap, Clarice."
As in second thought, he added "If you were disguised as the Abominable Snowman, Clarice, you would still look fine to me. I am very happy that you are here!"
She smiled weakly, leaned back and closed her eyes.
"That gets the cake!," she thought, before falling asleep "Of all the things that happened today, hearing Dr. Hannibal Lecter declare he is very happy, definitely gets the cake".
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As he drove, Hannibal Lecter contemplated the events of the day, such as they were. Clarice's pledge to their relationship had gone far beyond his most optimistic expectations. If her lack of any recognizable hesitation to kill Erik Pickford had been surprising, her determination was nothing new. Clarice was, indeed, a warrior.
He had rented a lakeside villa in Lucerne. Out the way, beautiful, and very secluded; the house itself was about a mile from the entrance to the property, nestled among old evergreens of various denominations and surrounded by extensive grounds, impeccably kept.
After about a 2 hours drive, he parked on the cobblestone courtyard in front of the house. Clarice was still sound sleep.
Hannibal picked her up, making an effort not to wake her and brought her to a guest room he had prepared for her with all the amenities, and which, he was privately hoping she would soon abandon in favor of a bedroom they would share.
He was hopeful.
He decided at this time it would have been inappropriate, and even rude, to change her clothes while she was asleep, even when he was sure she would sleep more comfortably in a pair of pajamas. The fact that she was no longer just her patient made it impossible for him to attempt such violation of her privacy.
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Clarice woke up in the middle of the night. For a few seconds she was disoriented, slightly confused as to her whereabouts. The room was entirely dark, except for the moon glow coming in the window which made the objects in the rooms vaguely distinguishable.
There was a water pitcher and a glass on the night table, and she leaned over and poured herself some water. It tasted great! As she drank it she realized she was parched, she felt pins and needles in her left hand and started flexing her finger, as she laid back again. Trying to set her mind in order.
She wondered if he was asleep. "Silly," she said to herself, "of course he is asleep". The clock on the nigh table read 3:30AM.
She laid back and closed her eyes. Thinking about the events of the day before. Then she decided she didn't want to think about them at all. "What was there to think?". She had severed her alliance with the FBI. She owed them nothing. Her loyalties now belonged here in this place with this man who never let her down. Erik had threatened them, she had done away with the threat. Plain and simple. End of issue.
She closed her eyes again and soon fell asleep.
In a corner of the room, Dr Hannibal Lecter sat waiting for the symptoms of shock to show themselves.
"No lambs for us tonight," he said to himself, "tonight we'll get the full show, complete with fireworks and flashbacks."
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She was having fragmented dream, flashes of the apartment in Baltimore, the house at the Chesapeake, and Krendler's brains. She alternatively saw Dr Lecter captured and herself rescuing him, in her sleep she tossed and cried and searched for him, but he was gone, always gone. She saw herself saying "Not in a thousand years" and felt his kiss, and he was gone, again, he was gone…She felt such loss she wanted to scream, just scream and go on forever screaming that she wanted him back.
"Hannibal, come back… Hannibal…," she moaned and tossed and called his name. "Hannibal!"…., crying inconsolably in her sleep.
The moment she started to toss he was up and at her bedside.
His voice was calm and soothing. "Wake up, Clarice. I'm right here" he lifted her upper body and cradled her in one arm holding her against him firmly "Everything is alright, you are having a nightmare, Clarice." His fee hand smoothing her hair, he kept on reassuring her until his voice made it thru the fog of her dream and she woke, slowly coming out of the nightmare, still overwhelmed by it. Eyes wide with a mixture of panic of loss, and hope that he was really with her, holding her.
She held on to him with all the strength and momentum of the despair she had kept inside all the years, and he kept soothing and talking to her until the tears subsided and she began to relax, ultimately, after a deep sigh, she started to come back to herself.
"It was just a nightmare, Clarice", he said gently, holding her at arms length now, pushing away some of the hairs that stuck to her face with a mixture of tears and sweat. "Let me run a bath for you, it will help you relax. When you are finished you will find a selection of clothes that I took the liberty to acquire for you, anticipating your arrival without luggage." He pointed to the closet and chest of drawers.
Before leaving the bathroom he paused in front of her and gently passed his finger over the gunpowder mark on her left cheek.
"Take your time, and enjoy the bath. When you are ready, I'll be downstairs in the kitchen fixing us breakfast. Just follow the smell."
Clarice took a long bath. Soaking in the perfumed water, more calmed now, she reflected on this paradox of a man, and the extent of her feeling for him as well as what she gathered was the endless range of his feeling for her, and felt simultaneously elated and overwhelmed. Clarice Starling had neither felt nor been at the receiving end of any such feelings before. It was an amazing sensation. It felt good.
The water was getting cold and she added some hot water.
She reflected how much she wanted him –and it was much-. She had wanted him for years. In fact, every man she knew paled by comparison, how could she possibly want anyone else when she knew he was in the world?
For years she imagined scenarios; now, she was trying to imagine some that would lead him to make the move. She then pictured scenarios where she would make a move if it became necessary. In the end she figured she would wait.
"All good things to those who wait" she chucked.
With an ample supply of both loving and erotic thoughts, a more relaxed Clarice got off the bathtub
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*Dante Alighieri , The Divine Comedy, Paradise, Canto XXXI
I hope you enjoyed this one. Let me know. As always I truly appreciate comments.
Clariz
