Search and Rescue

by psychoangel86

Set five months after the horrible events on the Chesapeake, Clarice moves on but finds herself desperately in need of Hannibal's help again. Will he get there in time?

It has been five months since the events that happened on the Chesapeake. Hannibal Lecter has escaped once again and Clarice Starling was promptly asked to resign from the FBI. Starling felt a sense of loss but wasn't sure if it was attributed to the loss of her career... or something else. She has been living the last few months off of her savings that she has accumulated over the years. She had never been a big spender in her whole life so she had quite a large sum in the bank. Starling moved out of the duplex and told Ardelia, her roommate, that she just needed some space and some time to think. She settled for a small, two bedroom cottage a few miles out of town.

Starling loved the peace and quiet of the country life. It brought her back to her childhood and set her free from the every day worries. She had been spending most of her time catching up on some books that she had been meaning to read for years, exploring the nearby woods, fixing up her house, and thinking.

This morning, Starling wakes up to the warm sun shining on her face. She rolls over to look at the clock. It was blank. Damn, the power must've gone out again. The electric company had been having technical difficulties for the past few weeks. She threw back the covers and winced when the cold air hit her body. They really need to get this shit fixed. It's December and people can't live without heat!

Starling groaned and put on some sweatpants and sweatshirt. She had no where to be and she loved her newfound sense of freedom. After using the bathroom, she walked down the hall to the kitchen. She was never much of a cook so she poured herself a bowl of Cheerios and sat down at the table. While eating she stared out one of the large kitchen windows and watched a squirrel run across the snow and up a tree. A second later, another squirrel came along and ran up the tree after the other one.

After breakfast, Starling pulled on her tennis shoes, grabbed her keys, locked the door, and began her morning jog. She started down the driveway and turned to go down the road until it merged with a long forgotten fire lane. Her breath came out in little white clouds and quickly disappeared into the air. Her face quickly became numb but she trudged on, through brush and past a snow covered pond. The entire forest was silent save for the short, quick breaths from the woman dodging limbs and fallen trees.

Little did she know that she was being watched by two black, sinister eyes...

Mateo Hernandez had been watching Starling for a month now. It had been relatively easy to find her after the Drumgo bloodbath and the Lecter incident. Then, it took Mateo a few weeks to muster up the courage to follow through with his plan. She would pay.

His body reeked of pure, unmitigated hatred. So many times he had to stop himself short from strangling her while she slept. She was beautiful, yes, with a lean figure and shiny auburn hair. If circumstances were different, he would have taken her right in her bed in the middle of the night so no one would hear her screams. But he had another plan that would be sure to make her pay for what she did while he had no chance of ever being caught. The plan was perfect, but kept brilliantly simple. All he had to do was wait.

Hannibal Lecter's black XKR Jaguar hummed along the long driveway to Starling's home. He was usually a patient man, but the past five months went by agonizingly slow. It took a great amount of control to drive comfortably under the speed limit all the way from Chicago. He longed to feel her lips on his again. On that fateful night so long ago, he could smell her desire and longing but he would not lay claim to her until she came to terms with herself and embraced what she truly was. His.

Lecter knew she was released from the FBI shortly after their last fiasco but doubted that she really wanted to belong to them anymore. He could sense it that night so long ago. The tearing in her soul between her duty and her heart, the trembling of her lips, and the complete lack of fear that shone in her eyes while she was trapped in the refrigerator told him that she wanted him but she had to find that out on her own. There was no way he could push her to do want he wanted her to do. But enough about the past...

Lecter pulled his Jaguar up along her Mustang and parked. All of the lights in the house were off. The little cottage didn't even appear to be inhabited by any living being. It looked to be a cold, hollow empty shell, not unlike Starling was the last time they parted. Lecter walked up to the door and softly knocked. He listened. No sound came from the other side. He stepped aside and peered through a window. Nothing. He tried the doorknob. It was locked. He quickly jimmied the door open using one of his tools he carried around. He quietly stepped inside, closed his eyes, and filled his lungs with her scent. It was so feminine, natural, and entirely the essence of Clarice.

Right away, he found out why the house was so dark. Apparently the electricity had been turned off some time ago. It saddened him to picture his Beatrice living in such conditions. There was not a picture on the wall, a knick-knack on a shelf, nor any touch of personalization that adorns most homes. She did, however, have a small fireplace on the far wall of the living room. As he surveyed the room, his mind was clicking away recording every detail to memory. Room to room he roamed. Every now and then his fingers would reach out and barely touch something of hers: the soft indent of her pillow, the hand towel in the bathroom, the rim of her water glass laying on the table. He concluded that she was probably out for her daily morning run and the light footsteps leading down the road confirmed.

He looked at his watch. It read 10:30. Perfect, she should be home again soon. As he perused her book collection, he wondered what she would think when she came to the house and saw his sleek Jag in the driveway. He selected La Vita Nuova and settled down on the couch.

So long have I been subject to Love's sway

And grown accustomed to his mastery

That where at first his rule seemed harsh to me

Sweet is his presence in my heart today.

Lecter closed the book and looked back to his watch. Noon. Surely she should have returned by now. In this weather, no one could stand to be outside for more than an hour or so without becoming hypothermic. Where was she? Something was wrong.

Clarice Starling rounded a corner and came upon the longest straightaway on the trail. Hot tears stung her eyes and made wet trails down her cheeks. How long can I go on like this? I can't do this anymore. I fucked up and he's never coming back. Never. What I wouldn't give to have him here with me right now. She pressed her already exhausted body harder. Her legs were beginning to feel weak and she felt light-headed but the exertion was the only thing that kept her grounded. Her ragged breaths were the only thing she could hear in the dead quiet of the woods.

She was only about a mile away from home now and she hoped the electricity would be on by the time she got back. If he was here, I'm sure you could find a way to keep warm. Shut up! Shut up! He's never going to come back for me. I cast the final crushing blow to his heart; I rejected him. Besides, he has probably moved on by now anyway. What could he possibly want to do with me? The tears were beginning to freeze on her face as she pushed on. She pushed the thoughts away and tried to concentrate on the trail ahead of her.

The trail had a sharp bend in it up ahead so she moved to take the curve wide. As Starling was just turning into the curve she felt a massive blow come from her left. It was body ramming into hers. Then she was falling, falling over the steep embankment on the outside of the bend. She hit a few trees on the way down and finally rolled to a stop at the bottom of the ravine.

"Take that you stupid bitch! How does it feel now! You never should have gone in there! Never! And now my brother is dead because of you! Fuck you 'cause no one is ever gonna find you down there! Have fun rotting in hell!"

Mateo smiled as he looked down at her sprawled out body. He was now a fully satisfied man. She was trying unsuccessfully to get up. He let out a wicked laugh and started his long walk back to his car to go home and get ready to celebrate.

The last thing Starling saw before the darkness consumed her was a black crow perched on a tree branch, just like the one that tried to steal from her mother's maid cart so many years ago.

Gazing at her, it speaks of what it sees

In subtle words I do not comprehend

Within my heart forlorn which bids it tell.

That noble one is named, I apprehend,

For frequently it mentions Beatrice;

This much, beloved ladies, I know well.

Hannibal Lecter closed the book and set it on the end table. He looked at his watch again. 12:30. He was beginning to get restless. Lecter wasn't one to worry much about anything, but when it came to Clarice he could make an exception. Maybe something happened while she was on her run and she needed him. He put his coat on and walked out the door to start his search.

Clarice opened her eyes. Man, how long have I been out? She noticed she was laying on her back sprawled awkwardly with her head right next to the base of a tree. Damn, that was close. She stirred a little and a sharp pain pierced through her entire body. Her face contorted with pain and she let out a slight whimper. Ok, girl, clear your head. You can get out of this. She closed her eyes tight and tried to will the pain away. It helped only a little. She opened her eyes again and tried to assess her situation. She flexed her left foot. It was a little sore but fine. She focused her attention to her right and let out a muffled scream as pain jolted up through her leg. It was definitely broken. Then she tried her right arm, it was fine. Starling didn't dare try to move her left arm. She could already tell that something was wrong with it. She didn't feel it much at all below her elbow. Braving a glance at it, she turned her head. The radius and ulna were poking out through the top of her arm with blood streaming out on either side of the wound. Starling could almost feel herself go pale.

Starling closed her eyes again. I don't need this! Get yourself together girl! Ok... what's wrong, really? All I have is a broken leg and a compound fracture in my arm. That's all. Now all I have to do is bear the pain, wiggle up the embankment, and crawl the rest of the way home... Even as she said these things to herself, she could hear the absurdity in her voice. She knew she had already lost quite a bit of blood and wouldn't manage to go ten feet in her condition.

She opened her eyes and stared up into the cloudy sky. She let out a defeated breath and wondered how long it would take for her to die. A strong gust of wind blew through the valley and she shivered. She was only dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt and her cheeks and nose were beginning to go numb. In the tree above a crow squawked at her. Oh shut up. You can have me by the end of the day, just hold on. She nearly laughed at her morbid sense of humor but stopped short when she felt another jolt of pain pierce through her body.

She clenched her jaw and gritted her teeth. Oh God please don't let me die like this! The crow squawked again and flew down next to her. Starling closed her eyes and let the memories flood her mind... anything to keep her mind off of her current situation. She was guarding a cart while her mother was cleaning the hotel rooms. There was one black crow that kept swooping and trying to get at anything shiny on the cart...

I'm going to die alone in the middle of the woods and nobody will even miss me. Tears tried to push themselves over the rim of her eyes but she'd be damned if she was going to die crying. She was a warrior. That's what he called me. The tears spilled out and ran down the sides of her cheeks. She took a deep breath and watched the condensation evaporate into nothing. The temperature was dropping and she was getting very tired. Her eyes were half hooded. Her mind drifted. Scenes from the dungeon, drug raids gone wrong, the sheep and horse ranch... all slowly making their way through Starling's mind. She began to drift...

The snow falling lightly on her face made her become aware once again. Opening her eyes again, she could see that the storm brewing had broke and she could tell that the area was in for a lot of snow. By now, her body had gone completely numb so she was content to watch the large snowflakes float lazily down and light on her cheeks. The entire scene was so serene, it put Starling at complete ease. Watching her father cutting oranges was the last thing she thought as sleep overtook her.

Lecter stepped out of the house and started walking down the road towards the fire lane. It had begun snowing and he was glad that he had decided to dress down for the occasion. He wore loose fitting jeans, a t-shirt, Nikes, and a zip up coat. He didn't think it'd be all too appropriate to arrive dressed to the nines when he didn't have an invitation. Although he wished he would have worn a heavier coat; the temperature had certainly dropped since he had arrived. He looked up into the sky and sensed that it was going to be snowing for quite a while and he may even be snowed in. Not that that was such a bad idea. He smiled at the thought and kept walking. The snow had already accumulated two inches over a slick covering making travel on foot a little difficult for anyone who didn't have the grace and agility of a dancer.

Lecter could follow her tracks down the road easily enough. The snow had not become too deep yet but he would have to hurry if he was going to have any luck. His maroon eyes were fully dilated and darted from side to side looking for any sign of her. He noticed two pairs of tracks on the trail. One pair belonged to Clarice's small, shapely feet and was leading into the woods. The other pair belonged to another, probably a man judging on the size, and were leading out of the woods. He was really beginning to worry. He sensed she was in danger and desperately needed him. Searching frantically, he picked up and the pace and started to jog.

He had come nearly a mile now and there was a sharp curve up ahead. Upon rounding the corner, he could see three sets of tracks and one sliding off to the side. No. One set went over the edge of what he saw to be a steep embankment down into a ravine. He stepped up to the edge and took in the horror. He could feel the anger rise up from within him and his mind already started making the necessary plans, but he quickly pushed them aside. She needed him. He called down to her, "Clarice!" A few beats of silence. "Clarice!" he called again.

She wasn't moving. He began his decent.

Starling heard something from far away call to her. She was in a dark place and it was so cold, so cold. A tiny pinpoint of light appeared and flickered away again. She no longer knew where she was. She felt like she was on the ocean, drifting on the waves of the ocean. There was a deep blackness all around, deeper than any black that could be found on earth. It immediately swallowed and engulfed any trace of light that might present itself. Starling looked down and realized that see had been standing on a single blood red tile. It shone in the menacing darkness. She looked in every direction but could see nothing. The faint voice was still calling her but she was being pulled against her will away from it. It sounded familiar. The deep, soothing, metallic voice soothed her and she wanted to go nearer. She started to scream but her throat emitted no sound. Frustrated she fought the blackness and tried to run toward the voice, but no matter how hard she tried she got nowhere. She bowed her head defeated and let the suffocating oblivion overtake her.

Then she found a new strength within herself and used every last ounce of strength within her body and leaped towards the voice. Then with all the force of a steam engine crashing into a mountain side, reality came rushing back to her. She opened her eyes and quickly closed them again. It was so bright. After spending what felt like an eternity in the dark, she was once again shone the glorious light of the sun... and the face of her savior.

When Lecter reachedStarling's side, he feared the worst. Her body was mostly covered with snow. He lightly brushed her off then tentatively reached out his fingers toward her neck to feel for a pulse. He held his breath. Her skin was cool, not nearly as warm asit should be. There was a pulse. Slow, unsteady, and faint but sure enough there was a pulse. He called out to her, pleading for her to come back to him. All the while, he took an inventory of the rest of her body. The bones in her left forearm were protruding through the skin and there was frozen blood all around the wound. He checked her legs, traveling his sensitive doctor's hands down each. Her right leg was broken as well. You truly are a broken angel, but still strong and determined. As long as she was still breathing and there was a beating heart within her chest, he'd be sure to do everything he could for her.

He continued speaking to her, drawing her from the depths of wherever she had retreated. He kept saying her name over and over, coaxing her. Her eyes fluttered briefly. Ah, my dear, now I have you. Then her eyes flew open for a moment and slammed shut again. He saw the recognition then elation flash over her eyes in that brief moment. He smiled to himself and continued to speak to her to keep her with him.

As he did so, he studied her beautiful face. Even in a state of such pain and turmoil, she was able to emit a most wondrous air of elegance. Her face had gone white, her lips were a light shade of blue, and her long auburn hair framed her face. He wished he could look upon her like this forever but there was much work to be done. He stripped off his coat and wrapped it around her torso and tucked the left arm ever so carefully. She let out a groan and grimaced. "Shhh... there now. You're alright, I'm here now."

Mindful of her arm and leg, he picked her up like he had done so all those months ago, his left arm reaching under and around her legs and his right arm supporting her torso while cradling her broken arm. She let out a half scream and looked up into his face. Her eyes conveyed a great amount of satisfaction and trust. She tried to say something but he stopped her. "Don't speak. Rest now."

Starling made a slight nod, closed her eyes, and laid her head on his broad chest. Lecter smiled and began his ascent. Thrice he nearly slipped and landed atop of her, but each time he caught himself. The snow had been piling up ever since he left the house. There had to be at least four inches on the ground by now. Once he got to the top of the hill, he stopped for a moment to collect himself. He looked down at Clarice, who had fallen asleep. Her body felt a little warmer now and there was a touch of pink returning to her cheeks. All good signs. He took a deep breath and began the long walk back to her cottage.

By the time he stepped foot in her driveway, there was a full six inches of snow of the ground and still more was coming down. Lecter carried her through the front door like a husband with his new bride. He expertly maneuvered inside with her and closed the door. He carried her to the back of the house where her bedroom resided. Gently laying her on top of her blankets, he noticed that most of her color had returned to her face. She was still sleeping, trying to regain her strength.

Lecter went into her bathroom and checked all of the cabinets for anything he might be able to use. He found a bag of cotton balls, rubbing alcohol, scissors, and some gauze pads. Then he took a bowl out of a kitchen cupboard and filled it with hot water. He brought all of these things into Starling's bedroom and set them on her night stand. He went back into the bathroom, picked out a towel and washcloth, and took them into her bedroom.

She was still sleeping when he began cutting away her sweatshirt. She gasped when he started to cut around the wound of her left arm. He looked over to her face and found her intently watching him. She smiled slightly and he returned it. No words were needed at the moment. The fact the he was there and the look in her eyes conveyed far more than words ever could between them. Lecter went back to work. She clenched her teeth to muffle a scream when the shirt caught on the protruding bone while he pulled it away. Then he cut up the middle of her shirt and peeled both sides back, exposing her breasts. He pulled the shirt out from under her and tossed it into the corner of the room.

All the while, Starling was fixed on his face. She blushed slightly when he exposed her but she knew she had nothing to worry about. Lecter was in his professional mode and barely even acknowledged her. His hands worked swiftly as he cut away and removed her pants. He went to her closet and took down a blanket. He gently laid it over her up to her shoulders. Starling appreciated the gesture and was enjoying being warm again. Then he finally looked into her eyes and said, "I have to set your arm and put the bone back inside. Now, unfortunately I don't have any morphine so this is really going to hurt like hell. If you feel yourself feeling faint, give into it. Don't try to fight the pain, just go with it. Understand?"

Starling nodded and braced herself. He moved to her arm. One intense flash of pain and Clarice succumbed to the darkness once again.

Starling woke to her room bathed in the waning day's twilight. Her head was swimming and she tried hard to concentrate. She was still lying naked atop her bed with a blanket lying over her. Her arms were on top, tucking the blanket snugly under her body. Tilting her head up a little, she saw her one arm wrapped tightly in gauze and the other held a small piece of paper. She brought the note up to eye level and read:

Dear Clarice,

Please forgive me for leaving you in such a state but you need provisions. Weather permitting I shall return to you shortly.

Ta,

H

She dropped her hand and laid her head back on the pillow. The day's events running through her head. The morning run through the woods, falling, the crow looking down at her, the man who pushed her over the edge... Damn. Can't I ever have a normal day? She emitted a weak chuckle. She closed her eyes to clear her head.

Her stomach rumbled and she was reminded that she hadn't eaten since early that morning. I hope "provisions" includes food, she thought hungrily. Knowing him, though, who knows what he'll bring home to eat. She stopped. This brought back memories of their last dinner together. Swimming in a sea of a morphine induced state and Krendler sitting at the end of the table with a string of saliva hanging from the corner of his mouth. The cutting words uttered: Would they give you a medal, Clarice, do you think? Would you have it professionally framed and hanging on your wall to look at and remind you of your courage and incorruptibility? All you would need for that, Clarice, is a mirror. The last sentence echoing through her mind.

Starling looked across the room to the small mirror above her dresser. All she could see right now was the wall above her head. She could remember to the day the last time she looked in a mirror. It was the night she returned to the duplex she shared with Ardelia. She stood before it for over an hour trying to figure out what exactly it was she saw. On the surface, all she could see was a tired, worn out woman in a very low-cut black dress. The eyes looking back at her had revealed nothing. They had lost the light behind them. There was something else missing as well, something from within her very soul.

She hadn't even looked in the one above the sink in the bathroom. She was afraid to see what the mirror would reflect. It was hard for her to believe that there was any courage left in her. Last time there was only an empty shell and she didn't feel any more complete now than she had then. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

The electricity still had not been turned on and the cool air from the room laid gently on her face. Starling was grateful for the blanket. Then she heard the familiar sound of her Mustang rumbling into the driveway. She cocked her head and listened. A car door slammed. A few beats of silence before another door slammed. Then the front door opened and she could hear bags being set on the kitchen counter.

Moments later, Lecter appeared in the doorway and walked to the side of the bed. "How are you feeling? Any pain?"

"Not too much. Of course I haven't tried to move anything yet."

"Good. I'll put a proper cast on each shortly, but first I think I should get you fed. Really, Clarice, don't you ever cook for yourself?"

She smiled. "I've never been a very good cook. I've always left that up to 'Delia."

"Of course." He nodded knowingly. He left the room and came back with some candles. He set two lit candles on her night stand and three more on her dresser.

"I'm sorry about the electricity." Starling felt she needed to explain as she watched him go about his work. "The damn electric company has been having problems ever since I moved in."

"Don't be sorry, it's not your fault. Do you have any wood cut for the fireplace?"

"Umm... I think there's a pile of some behind the house. I've never used it, but the previous owner had cut some and just left it."

Lecter nodded and left again. Starling reflected on how natural it felt to her to be talking to him again and in such close proximity. She should be terrified for her life in her debilitated condition, but somehow she knew that he would never harm her. He's had plenty of chances to do so and hasn't. Somehow, she felt more safe with him than she had with anyone else before in her life, save for her father.

Her eyelids were becoming heavy again. The physical strain on her body was catching up with her and refused to release her from its grasp until its needs were met. She tried to fight off the heavy wave of sleep trying to overtake her. Right before she relinquished herself to the dreamworld, she faintly heard a loud noise from the other room and a voice say "Dammit!"

Lecter was kneeling on the stonework trying to light the fire in Starling's fireplace. The snow from his boots started to melt. When he leaned forward slightly, one foot slid in the puddle accumulating on the floor and his body was pulled forward, connecting his forehead with the top of the fireplace. This is when Starling heard him utter his curse before she succumbed to sleep. He stood up and walked quickly to the bathroom to examine his head. The blood was gushing from the deep cut in his forehead and started to spatter into the sink, tiny red rivulets slowly making their way down to the drain.

He retrieved a washcloth from the cabinet and proceeded to clean the wound. After the bleeding had almost come to a stop he leaned forward closer to the mirror. It was going to need stitches, but that would just have to wait. His well-being was, for once, not on his priority list. He had more important things to think about and do right now. Lecter returned to the fireplace and finished building the fire. Within minutes, the heat had spread through the room and was warming the corners that had long been without warmth.

Lecter walked into the kitchen and started arranging everything he would need to properly care to Starling's needs. He decided that first he had to stitch up the wound in her left arm where the bone had broken her beautiful skin. He took the local anesthetic, needle, and thread into her bedroom. He knelt down next to her bed and began removing the temporary wrappings he had put on earlier. Starling let out a slight moan and her eyes fluttered open. She looked over to him. "Good evening, my dear. How are you feeling?"

"Tired, hungry, and my entire body aches."

"Yes, I figured as much. Well, first I must put a cast on your arm and leg then we will see about your hunger."

He injected the local anesthetic and began closing the wound. Her eyes traveled over him. He had gotten tan since I last saw him. He should definitely spend more time out in the sunlight. She stopped herself. She didn't even want to continue along this train of thought at the moment. She noticed his forehead and gasped.

"Clarice! I'm sorry, didn't I give you enough anesthetic?"

"No no no, it's not that. What happened to your head?"

He registered genuine concern in her voice and looked up to gaze into her eyes. Her eyes widened as she saw how long the cut was and it was starting to bleed again. "Just a little collision with your fireplace, nothing to worry yourself about."

"It looks deep." She reached over to lightly touch it with her right hand. He flinched almost imperceptibly. "That needs stitches. Why didn't you do that before you started on me? I was sleeping, I could have waited."

"Don't worry about it. You are in a greater need of help than I am," he said as he finished the last stitch of the clean, neat row.

She looked down at it. It reminded of the faint scar on her shoulder. She couldn't help herself, "Why are you here?"

"You are obviously in need of my help. I would say that I'm surprised that you survived if I didn't know how strong you were."

"No, I mean why are you here? I don't think you could have known I was out there lying in the woods if you hadn't come for some other reason."

"Oh, forgive me. I decided to stop by to wish you a happy birthday. Your birthday is in two days, you know."

He left the room. Starling had forgot her own birthday. And the only one who remembered was a cannibalistic serial killer. She wasn't sure whether she should be touched or horrified. The thoughts were pushed out of her head when he came back into the room. He inserted the syringe and delivered the morphine. She didn't even have time to protest before the room started to get hazy on the edges and ultimately go black.

While Starling was sleeping under the influence of the morphine, Lecter put a cast on her arm that went from her palm to elbow. Then he put a full length cast on her right leg. The work was slow-going, having to do it by candlelight, but it was done within a couple hours. He swept the back of his hand across his forehead and took time to admire his handiwork. Starling was still sleeping off the effects of the morphine but would be waking soon. She would be terribly hungry. He gathered his things and went out to the kitchen.

Lecter thought that some old-fashioned chicken noodle soup would do her well. It was light but would warm her through. The fire had died down while he was busy so he added some more wood. The flames cast shadows that seemed to dance across the room. He began heating the soup in the fire. While waiting for the soup to heat, he retreated to his memory palace. He went into a grand room dedicated to his dearest Clarice and set to work added his latest additions. He placed a portrait of her sleeping figure next to the one of her holding a lamb. Then he closed his eyes and took in her scent that would forever be her.

Sounds coming from the bedroom alerted Lecter and he came back to the present. He poured the soup in a bowl and took it in to her. She was trying to sit up but was having some difficulties. He placed the bowl on her night stand and went to her side. "Here, let me help you."

"I need to go to the bathroom," she said, looking at him helplessly.

"One moment." Lecter went to her closet. He took out her robe and draped it over her shoulders.

"Thank you."

He grasped her under the arms and pulled her up. The blood rushed to her head and she swayed. He caught her and helped her into the bathroom. Once he was assured that she was situated he left the room and closed the door. When she was done, she called to him. He came in and helped her back to her bed. She was sitting up with her back leaned against the headboard. He brought the soup up to her. She accepted and began to devour it.

He watched her, fascinated. When she was almost done, she became self-aware and looked up at him. "What?"

"You're magnificent."

"I don't feel very magnificent. I mean, look at me." She looked down at herself and his eyes followed her gaze. The robe was tied loosely in the middle by the sash, exposing her midriff and the valley between her breasts. Her hair fell down on either side of her face and settled on her shoulders. One lock fell down over her eye. Lecter brought up his hand and brushed it aside. Their eyes locked. No words were said. She was completely lost in the never ending maroon pool of his eyes.

They shared this moment together for an untold amount of time. Neither moved. Time stood still. Starling began to realize concretely what it was that was missing in her life. Lecter noticed a slight softening of her eyes. In one quick motion, his lips covered hers and they were completely lost within each other. Loving and exploring. Then Lecter pulled back and regarded her. She was left nearly breathless and her eyes were hooded. This was the second time she was in contact with his mouth and this time it didn't feel so wrong.

"Forgive me, I should not have done that," he said and left the room.

Starling blinked and then furrowed her brow. What did I do wrong? Sure, I haven't kissed many guys but that was amazing. She couldn't believe it. He just left, just like that. She felt cold with his body heat no longer there to cover her. She managed to wiggle down into her bed and pull the top blanket halfway over her body. The leg cast felt heavy. For over an hour she lie awake in her bed, trying to figure out what was wrong. Not once in that time did he come in to check on her. No sounds could be heard in the other room. After what seemed like an eternity, Starling finally managed to fall asleep. There was simply nothing else she could do.

Lecter sat quietly in a chair in the living room. He listened to her move around and after nearly two hours he could hear the steady rhythm of her breathing, signifying that she had finally managed to fall asleep. For once in his entire life, he didn't know what to do. He refused to push her and make the same mistake that he had made last time. Of course, he thought, last time was not a complete waste. He had made progress and she was so close to being ready. But how to proceed?

He gazed out the window into the black night. The snow was still coming down. Surely they would be here for a few days, not that she was in any condition to go anywhere anyway. He stood up from the chair and stretched his weary muscles. Then he walked to her bedroom to watch her sleep.

She was glorious. He would be able to spend eternity watching her just as she lay now. She had managed to wiggle back down into her bed. She was half turned on her side with the blanket covering up to her waist. The robe mirrored the black dress that she had worn some time ago. It had a plunging neckline and he could just barely make out the curve of her right breast. He longed to wake her, but no. Now was a time for rest and recuperation. Leaning against the doorframe, he watched her sleep into the wee hours of the morning. Not once did she stir, sleeping soundly in the silence of the lambs.

Around three in the morning, he decided it'd be best if he got some sleep. Reluctantly, he left his post and laid down on her sofa. Within minutes he was in a light doze. Outside of the little cottage, the storm emptied its contents onto the inhabitants of the area.

By morning the storm had given its all and the freshly fallen snow glittered in the light of the rising sun. In the small cottage at the end of the lane, the first rays of sunlight shone through a dusty window and kissed the face of a handsome man sleeping on a couch. The man slowly opened his eyes. The light was absorbed by the dark, maroon orbs beneath. He took a deep breath and stretched every muscle in his body. First concentrating on his hands, moving up through his arms, and eventually down his legs to his feet. He stood up and moved into the kitchen. Some good wholesome food was in order so he began to prepare his meal, mindful of the sleeping beauty that lie only paces away.

Starling woke to the most heavenly smells that she had ever experienced. Rich aromas emanated from the kitchen and she heard her stomach rumble in response. She licked her dry lips and sat up in bed. She carefully swung her legs over the side of the bed and managed to stand up putting most of her weight on her right leg. Steadying her herself, she took a moment to collect her thoughts as well. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Inhaling the mouth-watering scents again, she decided she didn't care what happened today as long as she would be able to taste something and settle her stomach. She opened her eyes again and retied her robe tighter. Then she started off down the hallway towards the kitchen.

She thought she must have been the saddest sight to see hobbling around with a broken leg and arm, but she didn't care. She had to do something about the persistent rumbling coming from her gut. Rounding the corner, her eyes widened as she took in the sight. Spread out all over the counters and the kitchen table were every breakfast food imaginable. Piles of pancakes stacked on plates, links of sausage, omelettes, and hashbrowns were among the most noticed items. Then she saw a pitcher of orange juice and a jug of milk set in the middle of the table. After taking in the sight, she looked to the man standing contentedly next to the stove. He had an amused smile on his face.

"What's so funny?"

"You look like you haven't eaten in months and," pointing to her thin form, "judging by your physique, I don't think that is too far off from its mark."

Starling's face reddened. "Let's just say I've had a lot on my mind."

Lecter simply looked at her for a moment. He could tell the situation had gone to a slightly uncomfortable level, but pretended he didn't notice. "Ah, well sit down and eat," he said and motioned to the chair at the table.

She shuffled over to it and sat down as he held the back of it for her. "Now then, where would you like to start?"

Her eyes traveled hungrily over the food scattered throughout the kitchen. "This is too much! You really shouldn't have, I mean, we'll never be able to eat all of this!" Her eyes moved to a plate with some kind of pastry with some strawberries and whip cream inside. "What's that?" she said, pointing.

"Those are crêpes." Lecter took one and placed it on her plate. She picked up her fork, took a piece, and put it in her mouth. Lecter watched, eagerlywondering what she would do. She bit down andgasped as the rich flavor exploded into her mouth. This was the most delicious thing that had ever crossed her palate. She looked up at Lecter and reveled in the sight. His maroon eyes were dancing. Never had she seen such joy in his eyes.

Starling took another bite and then another being sure to savor every little taste. When she was finished, Lecter put an omelette before her. She was ravenous. It seemed that the more food she took in, the more her stomach wanted. After she finished her omelette and two pancakes, she looked up at Lecter.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?"

"I've already had a bite. How is it?"

"I don't think I've ever had anything more delicious in my entire life!"

"Mmm... I'm glad you're enjoying it, my dear, but I'm afraid this will disappoint you."

She looked at him incredulously. "How could I possibly find this disappointing?"

"Ah, but you haven't even had any lunch yet," he said and winked.

She gave him a funny suspicious look then turned back to her plate. She finished her glass of orange juice and sat back in her chair. "Ugh, I don't think I could possibly eat anymore. Thank you," she smiled.

Lecter returned her smile. "Oh, by the way, how are you feeling this morning? Any pain?"

"I feel alright, I guess. Rested. No pain, I'm just a little stiff."

"I see. Well, you return to bed and I will begin clearing the table. I will be with you in a few minutes."

Starling nodded and stood up. She lost her balance for a moment, but quickly caught herself on the side of the table. "Are you all right, my dear?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Just a little dizzy." She proceeded to hobble back to her bedroom. Meanwhile, Lecter was busy putting the leftovers in the fridge and washing up the breakfast dishes.

After a few minutes, Lecter came walking into Starling's bedroom and found her sitting on the opposite side of the bed staring out her window. He followed her gaze and but couldn't make out what had captured her attention. He walked over and stood beside her. He continued to stare out the window along with her. Both souls suspended in time. United as one, contemplating their future. When Starling broke the silence, her voice was barely audible, "What now?"

Lecter looked down at Starling. She was still gazing out the window. He tenderly placed his hand on her shoulder and she looked up. He smiled, "We're going to wash you up and take care of those sore muscles."

Starling looked at him, silently questioning. He simply said, "Come with me." Lecter helped her up and guided her into the kitchen. Then he left for a moment and came back with some shampoo, conditioner, and a towel. Then he began washing her hair in the sinking, moving swiftly so her back wouldn't hurt from the awkward bending over into the kitchen sink. Using the sprayer next to the faucet and kneading her scalp, he had her hair shining again within minutes. He let her stand up so he could dry her hair.

She concentrated on his face, searching for any hint of emotion that might be going through his brilliant mind. While his arms were still on either side of her head with the towel, she slowly raised her hand and touched his brow where the deep cut had been impaled. He stopped his ministrations and looked at her. Starling softly traced the wound with the tips of her fingers. "Clar–" he began.

"Shhh..." she said as she placed a finger over his lips. She moved her fingers over his face. First across his soft, supple lips, then over his jawline and down the bridge of his nose. Silently, he watched her the entire time wondering what she was doing and where she was going to go with her caresses. Now she had her fingers woven into his hair and was pulling his head down to her. She lightly kissed his forehead. Then she stepped closer to him and laid her head on his chest. He dropped the towel and brought his arms up to embrace her. He felt the first shudders of sobs and just held her.

Lecter realized that this was her way of thanking him and asking for comfort. He tightened his grasp and pulled her closer. Starling hated to cry, especially in front of a man, but she couldn't help it. The tears were flowing down her cheeks and landed on his shirt. He simply held her and let her silently cry. She didn't quite know why she was crying, the tears had welled up unbidden. He set his chin on the top of her head and breathed in her scent. They stood like that in the dimly lit kitchen for an untold number of minutes.

Long after her body stopped shaking and her hair was mostly dry, Lecter pulled back. She tried to avoid his eyes and trained her gaze on the floor. He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. He cocked his head a little to the side andleaned towards her. "Ecce deus fortoir me, qui veniens dominabitur mihi," he whispered, grazing her temple with his lips.

Starling recognized the words he spoke and pulled back. "Thank you," she replied, barely audible.

He nodded his acknowledgment. "Well," he said returning to his professional side, "let's finish washing you up, shall we?"

He led her to the bathroom and she sat down on the toilet seat. Then he brought in a bowl and began filling it with hot water. He took a washcloth out of the cabinet and retrieved her almond scented soap from the shower. As he moved about, she marveled at how well he seemed to know his way around. She didn't feel very surprised, though. Somewhere, deep down she knew that he had visited her home at least on one or two occasions.

Lecter set her things down on the floor next to her along with a towel placed on the back of the toilet seat. "Anything else?"

"No, thank you."

He left the room, closing the door on his way out. Then Starling set about the task of washing herself up. It was difficult trying to maneuver herself around with one leg in a full cast and an arm in a partial cast, but she managed. After about half an hour, she felt clean and refreshed. She retied the robe, the only article of clothing she had on, around herself and started putting the items away. Then she walked out and started towards her bedroom. She stopped when she heard music coming from her CD player in the living room.

Starling turned and went towards the music. Once she reached the living room, she leaned against the wall and listened to the lyrics coming to her ears:

I can see it in your eyes

Why you're here tonight

Lookin' for that something sacred you'll never find

You know there must be some way

To wash away the pain

Just like you did your faith

Forget

Forget the fear you try to hide

Forget the pain you keep inside

And before we all regress

To this emptiness

And crawl across the floor once more

Scraping our hands and knees

When the song was over, Starling looked up at Lecter and said, "I never knew you were into metal."

He looked up, acting surprised that he was caught. "It just happened to be in your CD player when I turned it on. Tastes can change, though, I suppose. Who sings it by the way?"

Starling smiled, "Drowning Pool. I heard them once when I wandered into a music store and they kind of stuck on me after that."

"I see. Well now, do you feel clean and refreshed?"

"More than ever, thank you."

"Are your muscles still sore?"

She shrugged. "Not so much anymore."

"Good." Then Lecter motioned with his hand and said, "Come, sit."

She went over to the couch and sat down on the end, leaning on the arm. He turned the CD player off and sat down in the chair closest to her. The distance was comfortable. Starling propped her head up on her arm and waited for what he would say next.

He looked at her for a moment, thinking about how to pose his next question. He decided it didn't matter, she could handle it so he just simply put it out. "Who did this to you?"

She blinked. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"I believe the correct thing to say would be 'pardon' and you know very well what I mean. Who pushed you over the embankment? There was obviously some reason as to why he, or she, did this to you. Tell me about it."

"Oh," was all she said. She cleared her throat. "May I please have a glass of water?"

"Of course." Lecter got up and retrieved a glass of water for her. She took a long drink and swallowed hard.

"His name is Mateo Hernandez. I shot and killed his brother during a drug raid that went bad."

"What happened?"

"We received an anonymous tip that there was some illegal drug activity going on in an old warehouse. We rushed in, but it was a trap. I don't know who started shooting first, but there was fire coming from every side. I killed two others there and wounded three. We were outnumbered two to one, but after a few minutes we managed to secure the area. It turned out his brother had nothing to do with the drug dealing. I just shot him 'cause he was one of them. Twenty years old. He was only twenty and hadn't done any–" Starling had to stop. Tears were trying to push themselves to the brim but she forced them back. She felt she had done enough crying for one day, for the past year for that matter.

Starling collected herself and continued, "How was I suppose to know? He was there wasn't he? Damn, it wasn't my fault and then his asshole brother had to come over and make a big damn deal out of it."

She found she was gripping the arm of the couch so tightly that her knuckles had gone white. "Bastard," was the only thing she had left to say on the subject.

Lecter could feel his anger rising and struggled to keep himself in check. Starling looked up into his face. "Don't even think about it," she said. "He won't be a problem anymore, he thinks I'm out in the woods lying cold and dead."

"You would be if I hadn't come along." His decibel level had gone up a few degrees. He took a deep, steady, controlled breath. "What if I hadn't been around?"

"I don't know. I guess I wouldn't be here. I'd still be out in the woods with that damn crow."

Lecter shook his head and tried to lighten the mood. There was no need to waste a perfectly good day. He began with a light conversational tone, "So what have you been doing with yourself these past few months?"

"Not much. A lot of thinking and trying to put my life back together... no thanks to you," she grinned, trying to ease the tension.

He narrowed his eyes. "Why did you come out to Muskrat Farm that night? I'm forever grateful, but why did you come?"

"I don't think I knew at the time. All I knew was that what Mason and Krendler were going to do was wrong and that I had to do something about it. What about you? Where did you go after you escaped?"

"I went to London for a while. I'm afraid I can't give you any more details than that," he said and winked at her.

Long into the evening they talked about minor things in life. Both avoiding the uncomfortable topics, neither wanting to break the wonderful mood created. It was companionable, long lost friends remembering old times and telling each other the interesting things that have happened in their lives. The conversation was engaging and greatly needed for both of them. It has been a long time since either had had such an engrossing talk with another person, they both reflected and felt deprived.

When the shadows in the darkening room began to lengthen, Lecter stopped the conversation to turn on a light. "My, how the time has passed. I'd say it's time for dinner."

"What are we having?"

"Clarice, you should know better than to ask." He winked and went into the kitchen.

Needing to do something, Starling followed him into the kitchen."Is there anything I can do to help?"

Lecter turned around to look at her, "Sure." He placed a carrot, an onion, and a shallot on the table along with a knife. "These need to be finely chopped." Then he turned around to turn the oven on.

Starling sat down at the table and set to work.

After a half hour or so, Clarice was finally able to taste what Lecter had prepared.

"Mmm...this isdelicious! Now, please tell me what this is."

Lecter smiled. "It's chicken with foie gras."

Shefurrowed her browbut decided it'd be better if she didn't ask. They ate in silence. Starling savored every bite.

When they finished, Starling sat back in her chair and said, "You were right."

"About what?"

"This was definitely better than breakfast, just when I thought food couldn't get any more delicious. It was as if every bite melted into my mouth and was made specially for my taste buds."

"It was."

The room went quiet. After a few beats, Starling stood up with her plate and began to clear the table. "No, let me." He took her plate and cleared the rest of the dishes. He then proceeded to fill the sinks and started washing the dishes. Starling wasn't used to being taken care of so she wasn't going to just sit around while he did all of the work. She went over to the sink next to Lecter and dried the dishes as he washed and rinsed them.

Within ten minutes the dishes were washed, dried, and nestled back in their places. Starling yawned and stretched her back. Lecter watched her, mesmerized. She was beautiful, a blossoming goddess of the earth. When she arched her back, the robe's sash loosened and he was able to see her exposed neckline that plunged down to her navel.

Starling saw him staring at her. A soft pink color came to her cheeks and she turned to walk down the hallway to her bedroom. She turned the light on and went over to her dresser. She put on a tank top and some loose-fitting sweatpants to accommodate her cast. When she went back out to the living room, she found Lecter putting on his coat.

With a puzzled look, she asked, "Where are you going?"

"I have some business to take of. I also need a few changes of clothes. Don't worry, I'll be back in a couple of hours, I assure you."

"Ok. I'm kind of tired anyway."

"Good. Lie down and I'll be here when you wake up."

Starling smiled at the thought and returned to her bedroom. As she was drifting off to sleep, she heard the roar of Lecter's Jaguar coming to life and pulling out of the driveway.

Lecter took his clothes and personal items from the hotel that he'd been staying at and checked out. He placed the suitcase in trunk of his Jaguar and then walked down the block to a phone booth. He flipped through the dirty, smudged pages to Hernandez. There was a very long list. Moving his finger down the page, he found three with the name Mateo. He submitted the addresses to memory and returned to his Jag.

Lecter rolled up to the second house. There was a single light on in the small house. Good, he's probably alone. He walked up the small path up to the porch and lightly knocked on the door. "Who is it? What you want?"

A small, tanned man with black hair hastily opened the door. He looked at Lecter and his eyes widen. "Good evening," Lecter said grinning.

The man on the other side of the door didn't have any time to react as he was violently pushed back inside. He felt a crushing blow to the side of his head as the room went dark. The last thing he saw were two pinpoints of maroon peeking out from a dark abyss. He was terrified, but couldn't fight off the darkness that insisted on taking over him.

Lecter knew this was the correct Mateo Hernandez because of the smell that emanated from him. It was the same scent that he picked up in the woods while searching for Clarice. He nearly licked his lips in anticipation. No one would hurt his Clarice and live. No one.

He did a quick scan of the house, checking every room to be sure that they were alone. In one room, he found a wall covered with newspaper clipping featuring Starling along with Mateo's own commentary. His anger tried to push up through his iron grasp, but he pushed it back down, out of the way. Now was not the time. Lecter went back over to where Mateo's body lie limp. He picked up the body and carried it into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, Mateo opened his eyes. His head hurt like hell. He tried to move his arm to his head, but found that he was bound to one of his kitchen chairs with duct tape. He couldn't budge even a fraction of an inch. He searched the room. It was dark, but he finally was able to make out the shape of a body sitting in the far corner of the kitchen, patiently waiting. The figure rose and walked over to him. Mateo looked up into the maroon pools of evil.

"Do you know who I am?"

Mateo swallowed hard. He was hoping this would all turn out to be a bad dream.

"Answer me, Mateo," the voice commanded. It rang out with a cold, steel sound. Mateo could only think one thing: evil. The devil has come to claim me.

Lecter seized Mateo's forearm and twisted his wrist in one fast motion. Mateo could hear the snapping of the bones and screamed. "You fucker! What the hell do you want?"

"You hurt Agent Starling."

Understanding swept across Mateo's face and then terror with realization. "No!"

"Oh yes," Lecter said and smiled, exposing a row of sharp, white pointy teeth.

"Look, man, that bitch deserved it! She killed my brother in cold blood!"

The anger resurfaced within Lecter and he picked up a mallet that he had found in the house. Then he smashed it into contact with Mateo's tibia. Mateo howled in pain, his face contorting with anguish.

"What's wrong, Mateo? This is exactly what happened to Agent Starling. Are you not man enough to handle the pain?"

Mateo rolled his head back and looked up the ceiling. He gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes shut, trying to block out the intense pain coursing throughout his body. Sweat had broke out on his forehead and was beginning to running down into his eyes.

Lecter turned the kitchen lights on and looked at his quarry. He looked like a cat trying to decide what next to do with a mouse caught beneath a paw. Mateo opened his eyes again and looked at Lecter again. "Hmm... I wonder what I shall do with you now," he grinned again, immensely enjoying this game.

"Do whatever you came here to do and then just leave. Just please don't leave me here like this," he barely managed to get out.

"What an interesting idea," he said cocking his head to one side.

"No, please. Don't do this to me. I'll do anything."

Lecter brought his hand up to cup his chin, carefully studying the man before him. Then he gestured in a theatrical motion and said, "Ah, I've got it. I've always wanted to try this."

Of course, Lecter has had this planned for some time. He only wanted to make Mateo really sweat in his last few minutes of life. Lecter was relishing in the misery that Mateo was going through. He only wished he could drag the torture out a little longer, but he did promise Clarice that he would be back soon.

Lecter rubbed his hands together and said, "Now, where should I start then?"

The sweat on Mateo's forehead was blinding him. He could only make out the blurred shape of his captor. That just won't do, Lecter thought. He picked up a rag that was lying on the counter and wiped off Mateo's forehead and eyes so that he could see again.

Lecter removed his Harpy from his pocket and flashed it through the air. Mateo's heart rate increased and he was breathing in short, ragged breaths.

Lecter sliced the front of Mateo's shirt and peeled back the strips of cloth. Mateo's chest lay exposed. Mateo watched in horror as Lecter made an incision horizontally across his stomach just below his rib cage. Blood began to trickle out of the wound. Lecter only cut the outer layer of the skin. When he was done, he could see the membranous sac holding the intestines and if he pushed down on that he could see Mateo's diaphragm moving frantically up and down. He could tell that Mateo was growing faint from the pain and decided he had better hurry.

"Look at me." Mateo slowly lifted his head and metLecter's eyes. There was a thin strand of saliva running from the corner of his mouth to his chest. Lecter looked him straight in the eye and said, "You will live to see your own beating heart ripped from your body because this is what it would have felt like for me if Agent Starling had been killed today."

Mateo's eyes widened and he tried to scream, but Lecter had already thrust his hand up through his diaphragm and took hold of his heart. He grasped tightly and ripped it out, holding it in front of Mateo's pale face. Mateo saw his heart beat twice before he hung his head and his eyes closed forever.

Lecter was left there holding Mateo's heart that was stilling trying to beat, but each pulse that came was significantly weaker than the last. He took his Harpy and sliced off the rest of the arteries that were still sticking out of the top of the heart and let them fall to the floor. Then he went over to the sink and poured out the rest of the blood that had pooled up in the ventricles. After the heart was rinsed clean, he placed it in a tupperware bowl that he found in one of the cupboards. Then he washed his hands and knife and left the house to return to Clarice.

Tentatively climbing out of bed, young Clarice listened carefully. There was something going on in the barn. She couldn't quite make out the sound, but sensed that something was wrong. She went to her dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She dressed quickly and ran silently out to the barn. The sounds were deafening, increasing the pressure in her head. She peeked through a crack in the barn and saw the snow white lambs. Screaming. Begging for mercy, to be saved from the man that stood before them.

Clarice was terrified. She felt helpless, there was nothing she could do for them now. She was merely a child, the men would never listen to her... but maybe there was something she could do. She ran into the part of the barn where they kept the horses. They were in a frenzy, stomping their hooves and pacing their stalls. Clarice stopped at Hannah's stall. Hannah was restless and standing near the front of the stall. Clarice lightly blew in her nose and the horse stilled at once.

Carrying a rope hackamore, Clarice soundlessly opened the stall door and entered. She put the hackamore on the horse and led her out of the barn, watching intently on all sides to be sure she wouldn't be caught. The screaming of the lambs still had not died down and she nearly had to throw her hands up to her ears in an attempt to drown out the attack. It was a wailing, a pleading from the bottom of an immortal soul that called from another world to be saved.

Clarice woke up with a start and sat bolt upright in bed. She was breathing hard and fast. She could still hear the echoes of the lambs fading off into the distance. The shadows from the room appeared to be reaching out for her and she suddenly felt cold. She shivered. "Hannibal," she whispered into the dark. She threw back the covers and silently went out to the living room. She found him lying awkwardly on the couch that was clearly too short for his body. One leg was propped over the arm of the couch while the other one had fallen to the floor. His hands were folded across his chest. She went over to him and took his top hand in hers. His eyes fluttered for a moment and then became fixed on hers.

Lecter could sense that she had had another bad dream and silently cursed her early childhood misfortunes. He looked at her questioningly, wondering what she would do next. She tugged on his hand, motioning for him to follow her. He rose and followed her into the bedroom.

"Sleep here tonight. You look exhausted," she said softly and went to lay down on her side of the bed.

Lecter went around to the other side and lay down on top of the covers. He lay on his back, legs straight out, with his hands folded across his chest once again. Starling turned over on her side and looked at him thoughtfully. He turned on his side to face her. They lay there in the comfortable silence. Then Lecter moved his arm back. Starling acknowledged the gesture and snuggled closer into his embrace. He held her through the night, lightly stroking her hair until he was sure that she was asleep. He'd make sure that no past demons came to haunt her. Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, he found himself in a dreamless sleep.

Hannibal Lecter woke long before the sleeping woman in his arms. He dared not move a muscle for fear that he would break the delicate thread tying her from the dreamworld to the real world. He lie in the weak light of the rising sun with his arms around the woman that he cherished more than life itself. Her head rested on his chest just below his chin and she had snaked an arm around his waist. He deeply inhaled the scent of her hair and closed his eyes, placing a bottle of her scent on a shelf next to many others of hers in his memory palace.

After a few hours, the body in his arms stirred. "Mmm... you smell so good," Starling said commenting on the cologne he wore.

He chuckled his approval and she felt the rumblings from his chest reverberate throughout her body. She smiled and finally lifted her head to look into his eyes. "Thank you," she said smiling. "You're always here when I need you."

"Forever and always," he said returning the smile.

"Well, as much as I'd like to stay like this, I have to go take care of something first. Wait for me." She lightly kissed the corner of his mouth before removing herself from the warm bed and going down the hallway towards the bathroom.

Lecter marveled at how expansive her mind was. She could so quickly jump from one motion to the next with such fluidity. An enigma that he would never be able to fully grasp, that's why he was so drawn to her. He waited patiently. He heard the bathroom door open and then her footsteps heading towards the kitchen. Running water and then a refrigerator door opening. A few beats of silence. He cocked his head, trying to detect any movement at all.

He was about to get up when he heard the refrigerator door shut, then her soft footsteps coming back toward the bedroom. Starling entered the room with a medium-sized tupperware bowl in her hands. "What's this?" she asked, taking the lid off.

Lecter remained silent. He intently studied her face as she beheld the contents of the bowl. First a wave of confusion, then a brief display of horror, followed by... what was it? He couldn't quite tell. She looked up, determined. She walked to the side of the bed and set the bowl down. She grasped the heart with both hands. Turning to Hannibal, she held the heart out to him. He watched her, mesmerized. Then she whispered, barely audible, "Then he awoke her and, her fear not heeding, my burning heart fed to her reverently."

Starling brought the heart up to her lips. Her lips curled back away from her teeth. She bit down hard into the flesh and tore. A trickle of red stained water dribbled down her chin as she swallowed. Lecter quickly rose up and recovered the spilled liquid with his tongue. Then they met in a passionate kiss heated with all of the pent up urges and desires that had accumulated over ten long years. He held her up as her legs gave way, along with everything that she had come to know.

Epilogue:

In a far off land, thousands of miles from her homeland, Clarice stepped out onto the terrace to join the handsomely dressed man waiting for her. She was dressed in a beautiful, flowing red gown that exposed her back and hung suggestively low in the front. The man held out his elbow as she approached and she eagerly grasped it. "Shall we, my dear?"

"Of course," she said, glowing with excitement.

The couple descended the steps and joined the other couples that were already dancing to the music. When Clarice and Hannibal joined them, everyone stopped momentarily and awed at the radiant couple that had began moving perfectly in rhythm to the music. They were entirely lost in each other, ignorant of all around them. A light murmur erupted, but our couple was too far gone to care. They continued their dance far into the night, long after the music stopped playing.

FIN