WARNING SIGNS

Pale morning light flooded through the window blanketing Clarice with warmth. She was lying in her bed, stirring contentedly, as the sun came up over the mountains. Sitting up, she smiled slightly, thinking about how happy her life had become. She was in a beautiful country, surrounded by an exquisite landscape, in a wonderful eighteenth century home, and sharing it all with a man who both exhilarated and frightened her. Of course she missed Ardelia, her other friends from the FBI, the thrill of working on new cases. But she was determined to let it all go and start anew. After all, this was part of the therapy Dr. Lecter had prescribed. She had to admit; she felt better.

Dr. Lecter slept in the bedroom down the hall at the opposite end of the house. It was the smaller of the two, but had a balcony that overlooked the elaborate garden at the back of the house. Usually, Dr. Lecter would lie in bed as the sun came up, and he would think about Clarice. However, this morning his bed was empty for he was already downstairs.

As Clarice wobbled down the stairs, rubbing the grogginess from her eyes, she heard the faint chop... chop... of a knife. Bemused, she involuntarily flashed back to the night Paul Krendler had joined them for dinner. He deserved it, she thought bitterly, but was nonetheless troubled by her cruelty. She turned into the kitchen and found Dr. Lecter in a sleek, dark purple pair of pyjamas. He stopped chopping what turned out to be vegetables, and he turned to her as she entered.

"Good morning Clarice," he said, ignoring her unkempt hair, and her half open nightgown.

"Good morning Dr. Lecter," she replied.

He seemed slightly disappointed, "please, Clarice, you must call me Hannibal. We are very much past the petty formalities of acquaintances, don't you think?"

"Of course, Hannibal. I merely wanted to keep a po –."

"Clarice, no explanation is required," he said, returning to his chopping. "Tell me, are you very much alright with omelettes this morning?"

"Yes, thank you... Hannibal." She tried to catch his eye as she sat down at the table. A smile crept across his face but he did not look up.

Clarice watched Hannibal intently for several minutes as he prepared their breakfast. She loved the way he was so graceful and so cunning... as if he could read every thought that poured through her head. As if he knew how much she ached to be held every night. Even though they were together, they had not yet been intimate. Hannibal insisted on letting her keep her own space lest she become dependent on someone other than herself. It was important that she learn to love herself before she could love another. She felt that she did already. She had benefited from her therapy and believed she understood herself now better than ever. She liked who she had become. She liked who Hannibal had made her. It was important that he knew that.

After a quiet breakfast, she decidedly said, "Hannibal?"

"Yes?" he replied.

"I think you should know... I feel ready. I'm ready for you. I trust you, Hannibal, and I am grateful for the way you've helped me, the way you take care of me, the way you love me."

"Clarice, you mustn't give me all the credit. Indeed, you have recovered nicely and are ready for a change, but you helped yourself. I was there simply to guide you when you needed guidance. I do not take care of you Clarice, for you are wonderfully independent. My only agreement with you in terms of your last statement is that I do care for you. I do love you, Clarice."

It was the first time she had heard him say that, and it meant a lot to her. Hannibal rose to clear the table but Clarice met him as he stood up and locked him in an embrace. She faced him and gazed into his maroon eyes, lost. He bent his head towards her and they kissed tenderly.

"I always knew you would be here waiting for me, Hannibal," she breathed finally. She used to wonder if she would ever be more to him than simply a patient; an interesting subject. It was suddenly apparent, however, that he had loved her along.

Clarice wandered through Paris on her lunch break. She gazed into shop windows, and smiled at strangers who passed her. She stopped at Le Grand Soulier for lunch and had a seat a table under an awning. In the afternoon sunlight, her thoughts wandered.

Suddenly, a flier posted in a nearby shop window caught her attention. She was so startled by it that she stood up quickly, almost knocking over the table. "Oh my God," she muttered. The flier was an add posted about herself and Hannibal. It was a warning against their potential threat. There was a notice at the bottom that said to contact the FBI in Baltimore if anyone should see the pair. Both of us? How are both of us a threat? The only one that knows that I am happily living with Hannibal is Ardelia. Ardelia! How could she betray me! How?

Desperate to avoid being noticed, or worse yet, recognized, Clarice ran back to the Louvres where she claimed to be ill and in need to return home. She raced to her car and drove non-stop back to her house in the valley.

Upon arriving home, Clarice immediately phoned Hannibal's office to tell him what she saw.

"Are you positive, Clarice?" Hannibal answered on the other line, a slight urgency in his voice. "It seems strange that they would come looking for us after so long. It is very unexpected. I thought we were… old news to the FBI."

"I'm not sure," Clarice replied. "I know what this means. We have to leave town. We have to stay hidden. We have to do something!"

"Please wait for me at home, Clarice. I promise that we will devise a plan." There was a click on the other end. Clarice sat in choked silence.

She roamed through the house trying to find an explanation. Ardelia would not betray me, especially after three years. She must have had a reason! As if to answer her questions, a news broadcast blared in from the television she had turned on in the other room. The voices, in french, rang through her head speaking words that terrified her and angered her at the same time.

"Serial killer Hannibal Lecter, insane criminal psychiatrist, has returned to the Baltimore area. Three bodies have been found in the last week, each showing evidence of the doctor's trademark brutalities. FBI agent Ardelia Mapp explains that she is shocked to learn of the doctor's sudden return. 'I thought he had stopped, tamed by his love for my old friend Clarice Starling who used to work on the force. I was never supposed to tell, but I have received several letters from Clarice and she claims that she is fine. I don't doubt that she has taken part in these murders too, despite what I want to believe. I feel it is a great loss that she succombed to Lecter's evil. Sorry Clarice, but this is for your safety, and the safety of your possible victims.' Police are sending warnings to many parts of the U.S. and several countries in Europe for the couple have been known to travel. If you come across either Dr. Hannibal Lecter, or Clarice Starling, you are urged to contact your local police for your own safety."

But it's not us! Clarice screamed inside her head just as Hannibal entered the doorway. He went to her and held her as she wept. "It's not fair! We are both innocent of these crimes!"

"I know. I heard on the radio. We must simply wait here."

"But for how long?" she asked in sobs.

"I do not know, Clarice," and Hannibal Lecter was truly dismayed.