Disclaimer- Mischa Lysette and Cara Clarice are mine... the rest belongs to Thomas Harris, I am not doing this for profit

Hey guys, here's part two!

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Clarice Starling woke early that morning, her face set in an almost silly grin. She lay still for a moment, revelling in the glow of early pregnancy. To be honest, most of the time it terrified her, but Hannibal had taken the news so well! "Two months down, seven more to go." She whispered, unable to repress a delighted giggle. Knowing her love wouldn't appreciate being woken so early –he had a lot of patients today-, she got out of bed and padded to the bathroom.

"I may not have morning sickness, but this going to the bathroom every two hours sure is annoying." She commented to her reflection. Earlier that month she had ordered a large batch of books from the internet, and today they should be arriving.

Not long after she had hopped out of the shower, Hannibal retreated to the kitchen to make breakfast. Clarice watched from the doorway as he stared down at the toaster, apparently absorbed in the glowing red element. "Morning hon." She said, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Hmm, morning Clarice." He kissed her cheek.

"Something wrong?"

"No, no, I was just pondering everything we will need for the new baby." She nodded, listing off the first few items that came to mind, "Lessee, cradle, clothes, diapers, bottles or, well, hmm." She ended, looking thoughtful. With his index finger, Hannibal smoothed away the worry lines in her forehead, "What is it?"

"Formula or breast fed?"

Dropping the hot toast on a plate, he glanced at her while picking up the butter. "Well, a mother's milk is always better, more natural. But if you don't feel comfortable with the idea, then formula is a decent alternitive." Handing over the marmalade, Clarice nodded in agreement, "I think I'll feed her myself then." Raising an eyebrow, Hannibal laughed softly, "It's a girl then?"

"Well, it sounds better then baby It!"

The books did indeed arrive that morning, the radio was playing country as Clarice lounged on the couch and cracked open the first one, 'Your Body-Your Baby'. For every month, there was a picture of 'what your baby probably looks like now', Clarice patted her still-flat stomach and chuckled, "Hardly flattering," She took in the photo image of the two month fetus, huge eyes in a head that looked too small, parchment skin, tiny heart that would already be beating. "Amazing.."

One week into her third month, Clarice developed morning sickness. Hannibal held her tightly when she was done, absently smoothing her hair. "Feeling better now?" he asked softly, she looked up and smiled, "Ok now.. but, I'm a little worried."

"About what?" he asked, shifting so she was leaning against him, his hands folded on her stomach. "We both know I can't go to a hospital."

"I've been thinking about that as well.. what would you say to creating something like Mason Verger's room for you? Simplicity, if I can't bring you to the hospital, then I shall simply have to bring the hospital to you."

"But if something should happen, it takes more then one person to perform a cesarian."

"I was considering contacting Barney.. we've been in touch on and off, and I know he would never turn us in to the authorities." Clarice smiled, and he could feel the tension draining out of her, "Perfect, just perfect."

That evening, Dr. Lecter began assembling the components of their in-home hospital. An incubator with bilirubin light; some surgical tools he kept hidden; a fair supply of anasthetic; and a fetoscope, a little blue device with a speaker, for listening to the baby's heart.

Clarice lay still in bed, only slightly propped up, as Hannibal lifted the hem of her shirt and flipped on the fetoscope. She tried not to laugh as he pressed it firmly against her lower stomach, and after a moment, her laughter died in her throat. From the speaker, she could hear the loud thump-thump of a heartbeat. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out in joy, and noticed a similar expression on his face. But there was something wrong, there was something else there. Background noise, or, the heartbeat wasen't in sync. Hannibal tilted his head to the side, closing his eyes to cut out any other disturbances. He tilted the fetoscope to the side, moved a little to the left, and the sound was clear again. After just a few more adjustments, Clarice watched as he licked his lips, as thought they were suddenly dry. "I thought it was an echo, it's not uncommon. But it's not."

"Not an echo?" she repeated, a little confused.

"It's twins." He replyed after a long moment.

"Two babies?" Clarice took a shuddery breath, and grinned.

"Two!" he exclaimed, laughing.

Their joy was short lived. Just before her sixth month, the beginning of her third trimester, Clarice woke in the middle of the night to searing cramps. Sitting up as well as she could, she could see the blood. So much blood stained the sheets, she couldn't contained a strangled scream.

Hannibal sat bolt upright in bed, "What's wrong?" he asked, and then noticed the black-looking stain on the white sheets. His medical training clicked into place, wiping away her tears, he said softly, "Take deep breaths, listen to me, Clarice. Stay as still as you can." His voice calmed her, and she lay frozen, gasping for air, as tears flooded down her cheeks.

He carried her into the bathroom, running a warm shower. Clarice was unable to stand, and lay at the bottom of the tub, letting the water wash away the blood, as she clutched her stomach. "Please no.. God no... not my babies.. don't let anything happen to them... please..." she sobbed. He did all he could.

Clarice passed out as soon as the pain stopped, Hannibal was greatful for this. The miscarried child was a girl. Dr. Lecter wrapped the infant in a towel, letting his tears run freely, as though he could will his daughter to live. She was so small, she fit in the cup of his hands, still curled in the fetal position. Chalky colored vernix clung to her skin, it came away as he gently wiped the blood away.

Hannibal Lecter had seen death many times. Only losing his beloved Mischa had ever come close to this pain. "Cara," he murmured, she needed a name, "Cara Clarice Lecter." No father should ever have to bury his child, but that is what he had to do.

Later, he sat at the edge of the bed on which Clarice now slept. His hands were covered in blood and dirt, it smeared his face. Hannibal just stared down at the blue fetoscope, remembering the sound of his daughter's hearts. "Only a matter of time now." He said, as though a curse, wiping away the few tears that lingered. Gently, he lay his head on her stomach, shaking.

Then he heard it. A faint tremor against his cheek. His heart leaped as he grabbed for the abandoned fetoscope. There it was. Quick and strong, thump-thumping echoing in his head. Collapsing against Clarice he held her tightly and cried, "Alive! One of them is alive!"

Cara's death was shattering for Clarice. Desperate to save the other twin, Hannibal kept her on strict bed rest. Barney was called, and he said he was moer then happy to come. He said he felt honored.

"Hey Doc, why the big hurry? You said she isn't due till April, and that's three months away." There was a long, tense silence on the other end of the line, and then,

"It was twins, Barney. We lost one." There was a tone in the Doctor's voice that he had never heard before, a sort of lost tremor. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

Slowly, the pain of Cara's death began to fade, as they had to focus on the twin that had survived. Near the end of February, Clarice was allowed out of bed; by Barney, while Dr. Lecter was at work. Originally, he had planned to leave his practice completely, until Clarice told him (in no uncertain terms), that if he was going to hang around the house all day, it was going to drive her insane.

So, Clarice and Barney were watching day time talk-shows. "Oof!" she exclaimed, moving a little. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"Nope, just the little kick-boxer in my stomach!" The former orderly watched as her now sizable stomach shifted, seemingly of it's only free will. "Huh, well, that looked interesting!" he said, laughing loudly.

"Ughhh, it feels like he's doing actobatics in there." She grumbled.

"Hey! Kid! Settle down in there!" Barney said to her stomach, giving it a gentle poke.

Almost immediately, the baby kicked back. "I think you got his foot!" Clarice giggled as Barney repeated it, and got another kick. This game was still going on when Dr. Lecter arrived home.

He opened the door to gales of laughter. Turning into the living room, he privately overjoyed in the sound these walls haden't heard since Cara. "What are you doing?" he asked, looking a little confused. "Just picking on your baby, Doc."

"And how, might I ask, are you doing that?"

"Take a look." The larger man said, giving a practical demonstration on the baby-poking technique. After a moment, Hannibal gave it a try, and was rewarded with a strong kick. "Well! Hello to you to!" he laughed, delighted. The baby shifted, almost as if to hear better. "He knows who his Daddy is." Clarice commented, giving his hand a squeeze, "How was work?"

"Not nearly as amusing as this," he replied, poking again for emphasis.

"Oooh," she mumbled, rolling away, "stomach is off-limits now, my guts feel like they've been re-arranged!" The response was good-natured laughter.

It was just after lunch, on the 25th of March. Clarice was due in a little under two weeks, Dr. Lecter was at work, and Barney was tidying up after lunch. The final touches on the nursery had been completed the night before. Clarice had walked, well, waddled into the kitchen when it felt like someone had tightened a great belt around her waist. Breathing out, she settled down in a chair. "Hey, Barney?" He looked up from the plate he was setting in the copboard, "Yeah?"

"Could you pass me the phone?" he just shrugged his wide shoulders and handed it over.

Clarice twisted the cord in her fingers as she waited for Hannibal's secretary to pick up. To her credit, the secretary patched her through right away. "Hello, this is Dr.-"

"Honey," she interrupted, "Do you think you could come home now?"

"Is anything wrong?" he sounded alert and anxious now.

"Nothinngggggg!" she hissed, as aother contraction tightened.

"Clarice, is it the baby?" he asked, already grabbing his coat.

"Yeah, baby's coming." She said, catching her breath.

Barney helped Clarice to her feet, keeping an arm around her waist. "Walking is good for labour.." she muttered, leaning against him for support when the strongest pain yet hit her. Barney flipped on the sterio as they passed it, the radio was playing old rock and roll. "Ha! And he said that he refused to have his child born to rock music.." she said in a strained voice. Barney walked her in funny box-steps, making faces and singing along to the music. Soon, they were laughing between the increasing contractions. "Boy or girl?" she asked.

"Well, since you and the Doc say boy, I'm gonna disagree, just to be different."

Meanwhile, lunch hour traffic was slow as molasses, and Hannibal was taking every short-cut he knew. "I'm going to be a father," he kept repeating to himself. Despite everything, it was still a shock, now that the moment was upon him.

Just over an hour after he returned home, Clarice gave birth to a 7lb 3oz , baby girl. The whole process took just under two hours. She was delivered by her father, and he wrapped her quickly. Clarice smiled, looking tired and dazed, but happy more then anything else.

"It's a girl.." Hannibal laughed, tenderly cleaning away the excess blood and fluid, before passing the bundle to her mother. "Mischa Lysette." Clarice suggested, staring down at her little miracle. "Beautiful." He said, closing his eyes briefly.

It was at that point that little Mischa decided to free her arms from the swaddling blanket. As her tiny hands appeared, Clarice took a sharp breath, "Hannibal, look." She said, coaxing the baby to grab her finger. Mischa Lysette latched on tightly with her left hand. "Six." The doctor said wryly, counting her perfect little fingers.

Black hair, and eyes that flickered somewhere between grey and blue, but highlighted with deep red. "She'll have you coloring," Clarice stated, and Barney nodded his agreement. "Definatly," the large man patted her cheek, ever-so gently, "are you Daddy's girl?" She just closed her eyes and went to sleep.