Author's Note: I borrowed the idea of changing Behavioral Sciences name from John Douglas in his book, "Obsession." And to MC: thank you so very much for your tireless assistance. And thanks so much to my father Keith for the "pastor" idea.

Chapter 23: Quid Pro Quo

The early December wind gently rattled the window pane as it blew the light snow flurries against it while Clarice Starling viewed herself in the full length mirror in the woman's dressing room of the Capitol Hill Presbyterian Church in Washington, D.C. Ardelia Mapp, her maid of honor, stood behind her, eyes glistening, and smiled happily.

"You're so beautiful Claire," Ardelia breathed. "You're radiant. You positively glow."

Clarice smiled at her friend and turned around slowly, the long white satin skirt of her wedding gown swishing softly around her feet. She felt as if she were in the middle of a dream and that she was the luckiest woman ever. She was about to marry a man whom over the last year had come to be one of her best friends and closest confidants, her partner and her lover; and the only man in her lifetime that she had ever been both emotionally and physically intimate with. Clarice Starling had long thought that she would never find anyone like Will and that this day might never come.

Clarice turned her head to gaze out the floor to ceiling windows opposite the mirror. The windows were shielded from the outside by enormous hedges and trees just beyond. Threaded throughout the hedges and trees were clear white small Christmas lights that shown brightly and waved softly in the wind. Night was just beginning to fall and while the sun could not be seen because of the dark storm clouds, Clarice was pleased with the snow. It was a light, soft, snow fall that drifted lazily to the ground and it added to the overall effects of the beautiful Christmas lights. However, Clarice smiled when she thought of the warm sandy beach she and Will would spend their honeymoon at. They had rented a home for two weeks with a private beach in the Bahamas and they could spend their days sunbathing, swimming, and frolicking in the surf, and the private beach meant that clothing would always being optional. She decided that she would not miss the snow then but for now it added that extra special touch to her wedding.

She and Will, despite their not being religious had opted for a "traditional" wedding of sorts and when they had begun planning their wedding and scouting out churches, they had fallen in love with this beautiful Presbyterian church building that had been erected in the 1860's. The Pastor, "Pastor Bob" as he liked to be called, was a sweet old man with a generous smile and he had happily agreed to marry the now infamous Clarice Starling and Will Graham despite the fact they were not Presbyterian. Because of the media coverage, it would bring quite a bit of positive publicity to his church.

Clarice blinked and returned to the present. She turned back to look at Ardelia who had watched her reverie quietly and blushed at having been watched. Ardelia smiled. Over the last week, she had noticed that Clarice had become quite a bit more contemplative than normal although she did know the reason for it.

"I'm so happy for you," Ardelia smiled and bear hugged Clarice before softly clapping her hands and bouncing up and down excitedly. Ardelia was absolutely delighted for her old friend. She was so excited that Clarice had finally found the happiness she so deserved. Clarice laughed outright at her friend's joyful display.

There was a quiet knock at the door and a fresh young face peeked in. It was Michelle, Joshua Graham's girlfriend. Clarice gestured for the young woman to come in and she gaped at Clarice as she entered.

"Oh you're gorgeous," Michelle smiled and pushed an errant short blonde strand from her face. "Wow look at you!"

"Thank you Michelle," Clarice beamed.

"Pastor Bob asked if he could meet with you briefly before the ceremony," Michelle said, waving her hand in the air as she spoke. "And Will asked me to come ask you since he can't see the bride before the wedding and all that," she laughed. "Pastor Bob wants to bestow some kind of a blessing or something."

"Tell him of course," Clarice smiled and moved to the vanity table to finish applying her makeup.

Michelle nodded and slipped silently out the door. Over the last six months, Clarice had really taken a liking to the young woman. She was bright, good natured and easy going. She had accompanied Joshua on his summer visit to their home much to everyone's surprise and Clarice and Will had been able to get to know her fairly well. And she was actually now attending Georgetown University and often stopped in for a quick visit with her and Will on the weekends. Will found it immensely humorous and loved to tease Josh that he got to see Michelle more than Josh did.

"I'm going to go make sure everything is ready," Ardelia said and squeezed Clarice's shoulder. "I'll be back in a while to help you with your vale."

"Thank you so much Delia," Clarice smiled.

"You're welcome."

Clarice sat staring at her reflection for a moment. Ardelia had helped her put curlers in her now waist length red hair last night and today, the effect was gorgeous. The soft curls made her locks look almost angelic and she was glad she had taken Ardelia's advice to curl it. She picked up her lipstick, uncapped it, and twisted the barrel to raise the color. As she did, there was another soft knock at the door. Clarice glanced into the mirror as the door opened and she saw the Pastor enter slowly, dressed in his traditional clerical robes for the wedding. He closed the door behind him and Clarice went back to applying her lipstick.

"Hello Pastor Bob," she said brightly.

"Hello Clarice."

At the sound of the voice with the slight metallic rasp, Clarice immediately dropped her lipstick and it clattered to the floor. She peered closer at the figure reflected in the mirror. She would know that voice anywhere, awake or asleep, and her mouth gaped open. "Dr. Lecter," she whispered and turned around quickly.

"In the flesh," he smiled at her tenderly.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter moved slowly to where Clarice sat, his eyes never once leaving her. He was in awe of her beauty, after all it had been over a year since he had last seen her and while during that time he had worked to let her go from within his heart, being back in her presence now, he was awe-struck. He noticed that she had let her hair grow long again and the soft curls that now tumbled around her shoulders took his breath away. She seemed to have grown even more beautiful than his memory palace allowed him and his soul sank to its knees in reverence although he forced his body to remain upright as he came to stand in front of her.

Clarice watched him approach and felt the blood drain from her face. She shook her head. "No, that's not possible. I shot you. I saw your lifeless body. I...I...I killed you," she stammered.

Dr. Lecter shook his head gently, his eyes never leaving her face. "I merely allowed you to put your nightmares to rest." He paused. "But you are correct in a sense. While you did not kill me I was clinically dead for five minutes. You remember the doctor that came into the surgical room while you were there? He is a former patient of mine and incidentally the same surgeon that reattached my left hand. He just so happens to volunteer his expertise at the trauma center on certain weekends and I contacted him to lay plans shortly before you and Agent Williams arrived at the Mental Hospital. The plan was simple really, he would stop my heart while you were being summoned to the surgical room and once you had verified that I was indeed dead, he would bring me back to life."

Clarice could do nothing but stare in disbelief at Dr. Lecter's face, as if he were a ghost. She could not believe that he was standing before her and the words coming out of his mouth were nearly unfathomable. A million questions ran through her mind. What about the surgeon's staff in the surgical room? What about the body buried in Dr. Lecter's grave? What about..? She shook her head again to clear it, to formulate words from the thoughts that swirled within her mind.

"But I saw the blood when I shot you," she said incredulously. "You were bleeding."

"Clarice," he smiled. "It was simple. Think about it; a bullet proof vest packed with stage blood. The ER staff had no idea that I had not really been shot as I was wearing the chest and back skin of the homeless man who had been residing in my former cell over the vest. Once I was taken to the OR, my former patient took over and everything went according to plan. I knew that you would not believe I was dead unless you saw my body for yourself. Plus I needed to 'die' in order to regain my life and keep the FBI from tracking me. Once you had seen me and left the room, I was brought back, Clarice. I was reborn if you will. An ingenious plan, don't you agree?" He smiled his sly smile and cocked one eyebrow.

Clarice just stared at him, shock and disbelief etched over her face. She was utterly speechless.

'How does he manage to accomplish things like this?' she wondered to herself. She supposed a huge part of it was luck, intelligence and luck.

Dr. Lecter smiled gently. He knew this was difficult for her. He knelt down in front of her. "Let me ask you this Clarice," he said quietly. "Since my 'death' over a year ago, have your nightmares stopped? Have the lambs at last finally stopped screaming?"

A single tear slipped down her cheek and she closed her eyes briefly. She nodded and looked back up at him. "Yes," she whispered.

Dr. Lecter smiled again and paused. "And once again, because of my help you have advanced within the ranks of your beloved FBI. I particularly enjoyed your statement to the media when you changed the name of Behavioral Science to Investigative Support Unit and you stated you were 'getting rid of the BS,'" he chuckled wryly. "You amused me immensely Clarice. Yes, you and the mindhunters under your tutelage are becoming quite adept at tracking down your prey. How many within the last year? Thirteen wasn't it? Very well done little Starling. The 'bad guys' do not stand a chance with you in charge." Dr. Lecter paused then and grew serious. "Have you noticed Clarice that once again I helped your advancement?" He nodded. "Yes, once again I selflessly helped you to advance and yet once again I am given nothing in return for it."

Clarice watched him silently. He was up to his old mind games and she refused to be drawn back in. Dr. Lecter saw her jaw set stubbornly and smiled. They watched one another for a few moments and one subject lingered between them, both refusing to be the first to broach it for the can of worms it would open. Finally, Lecter's curiosity bested him.

"And how is Will these days?" he asked quietly. "I understand he is healing quite nicely physically. And what of his mental state? Have his demons finally been exorcised? Again thanks to my death?"

"Yes," she whispered again, meeting his gaze.

Dr. Lecter closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. His hatred for Will Graham had not abated in the slightest and he had hoped that the man was not doing well. He sighed and supposed that any man that was lucky enough to be loved by Clarice Starling would be doing well no matter what. Dr. Lecter had not planned to reveal himself to Clarice this soon after his death but when he had read in the papers of hers and Will's intended wedding, he knew he could not stay away, despite the danger he now put himself in. He had to see her. He could not keep away, much like the moth to the flame before it is consumed completely by that to which it was so helplessly drawn.

"You love him," he whispered. It was a statement not a question but when he opened his eyes he saw she was nodding anyway.

"With all my heart, body, and soul I do. He and I are the same," she said softly.

Dr. Lecter caressed her face gently and he leaned in until he was mere inches from her. There was one final thing he had to know despite the fact that it would be painful for him either way she answered. "Clarice, please at least be honest with yourself right now if not with me. When Will smiles at you, when he kisses you, his tongue in your mouth.."

"Don't do this," Clarice pleaded softly, her eyes beseeching his.

"...when he puts his hands on you, touching you, caressing you, when he makes love to you, making you moan..."

"Please, Dr. Lecter, don't," she begged him and two more tears slipped down her cheek and she closed her eyes as if to ward off his words.

"...making you whisper his name, making you dig your nails into his back, making you cum, as they so vulgarly say," he paused and cocked one eyebrow. "Do you ever imagine even for one fleeting instant that it's me Clarice?"

Clarice desperately fought back the tears that threatened to overtake her. She re-opened her eyes and looked into his. "Never," she whispered with conviction and Hannibal Lecter knew she was telling the truth.

His head drooped slightly and for an instant Clarice could see the pain in his eyes but then he brightened, masking it. "You will now," he whispered to her and smiled slyly. "Clarice, all I've ever wanted for you was happiness." He sighed softly and gritted his teeth. "Will Graham makes you happy, I cannot deny that, happier than I have ever seen you before, Clarice. And you believe that he is the first man since your father to love you unconditionally. But you are errant Clarice." He leaned in until his lips softly brushed her ear and he felt her quiver involuntarily. "He is the second man since your father to love you unconditionally," he whispered.

She closed her eyes and the tears slipped down her cheeks freely now. She let them come, unabashedly. "I could never love you," she whispered back. "Your love may make you a gentleman, but your crimes make you a monster."

"The proverbial beauty and the beast, eh?" Dr. Lecter smiled sadly.

She opened her eyes and shook her head. "No, more like Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde."

Lecter smiled at her brave wit and caressed her hands. He was in ecstasy just hearing her soft drawl again as she spoke to him but he knew his time here must be limited. He leaned back in, put his right hand behind her head and pulled her closer to him. "Say my name Clarice," he beseeched her, his eyes boring into hers. "I beg you, whisper it just once. In all the years I have known you, you have not once uttered my given name."

She pulled away roughly and looked into his eyes, but remained silent. Clarice shook off his grasp, rose and stood next to the vanity so that the stool she had been sitting on was in between the two of them as if it might offer a boundary he could not cross. She wiped her faced and crossed her arms stubbornly around her chest. She could not believe nor did she understand the emotions coursing through her body. Essentially, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, the man who had taught her so much about herself and the world, had returned from the dead and part of her was relieved to see him alive. Part of her had ached to hear his voice again, one more time. And a part of her now responded carnally to his touch and the urgency in his last statement and she was disgusted with herself. She shook her head. She hated this man, she must remember that. But she also cared for him. He knew her so well and he had always brought out the best in her. Clarice was agonizingly torn.

Dr. Lecter smiled gently and moved to stand in front of her, absently kicking the stool away. He could sense her torment and he ached to console her. He moved in close until their bodies brushed lightly together and he twirled a small strand of her chestnut hair around his right forefinger. "In another lifetime Clarice," he whispered, "you and I might have been lovers."

Clarice Starling looked at him with her tear stained face and spoke before considering the possible consequences of her words. "Yes we might have," she whispered back huskily. "Hannibal."

At the sound of her whispering his name, Dr. Lecter took her in his arms and kissed her deeply, his tongue searching hers out. He picked her up and sat her down gently on the vanity. One hand tugged at the small buttons on the back of her gown's bodice while the other gripped her hair gently. He loosened the bodice and leaned down to gently suckle her one exposed breast. He lifted the skirt of her gown and tenderly but firmly parted her legs, running his hands up to her thighs, and she pressed into him, moaning involuntarily into his mouth. She allowed his hands to freely roam her body while they kissed urgently.

Then Clarice thought of his hands on her and an image of Will on the cross, broken and bleeding, flashed through her mind. Dr. Lecter's hands had done that as well. She loved Will intensely and here she was betraying him with the man he despised most. What the hell was she doing? She pulled away and looked at Dr. Lecter, her former resolve back and stronger than ever. No matter how she might care for him or the carnal emotions he evoked within her, she had to remember Jack Crawford's words and they now echoed in her mind: 'Never forget what he is.' She re-positioned her dress and looked at him.

"I can't do this. I could never love you," Clarice repeated. "I'm sorry but you and I cannot be together." Clarice paused and softly touched his cheek. "You must let me go, Hannibal," she said softly. "Please, let me go."

A single tear slipped slowly out of each eye and ran down his cheeks. It was the first time that he had ever allowed another being to see his emotions unmasked. Her reaction is what he had expected but it pained him nonetheless and he was for a moment helpless to control it. He smiled painfully at her and nodded his head reluctantly toward the door.

"Then let me go as well," he whispered. "This is what I ask in return for once again helping you to advance. Quid pro quo, Clarice." He smiled sadly.

She looked at him and a small sad smile played on her lips in remembrance of the phrase. "But if I promise to let you go, keeping your faked death a secret and breaking my oath to the FBI, you must also promise me something. Promise me you'll leave Will alone. If you truly love me, you will not take the love of my life away from me as you've already attempted to do." She paused, unsure how he would handle the next thing that she must tell him and gripped his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. "If you truly love me, you will not take my baby's father away."

Dr. Lecter closed his eyes, his heart breaking at her words.

'I should have castrated him,' he thought bitterly. 'Before I crucified Will, I should have castrated him.'

He reached his hand out and placed it on Clarice's still flat stomach. "Ah," he said hopefully, "the real reason for the wedding then?"

"No," Clarice shook her head. "Will and I love each other, Hannibal. We have been planning this wedding for months. We only found out about the baby last week."

A heavy silence permeated the room as they regarded one another. He mused that no wonder she glowed. She was truly happy; she was finally securing everything she had always wanted and so desperately deserved. Dr. Lecter nodded slowly, seemingly making up his mind.

"I promise that I will not call upon you ever again, Clarice, except upon your request" he paused and sighed heavily. "And as long as Will is good to you, I will not call upon him either, you have my word. But God help him the instant he mistreats you or your child." He looked into her eyes and smiled sadly. He took her hand and kissed it gently. "This is goodbye Clarice Starling," he said simply. He stood and smiled down at her.

"Goodbye Hannibal." Clarice closed her eyes briefly and forced her face to remain as stone, revealing none of the emotions that twisted within her because she knew that once he walked out of that door, he would never come back.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter walked to the door, opened it, and turned back. A smile played on his lips, and he was seemingly his old self once more. "And Clarice, do not fret, I will not tell Will of our kiss, of our moment of abandon. I will leave that to your discretion." With that, he slipped quietly out the door.

Clarice fell to her knees and her emotions overwhelmed her. She began to sob into her hands. After a few minutes, Ardelia walked through the door. She saw Clarice crying on the floor and rushed over to her, putting her arms around her.

"Claire what's wrong?" She asked. "What the hell happened?"

Clarice's tears subsided and she wiped her eyes. "It's okay Del," she sniffled. "Just hormones, you know."

Ardelia moved to grab the box of Kleenex from the vanity. "Hormones my ass. What happened, Clarice?"

"I guess I was just really touched by the Pastor's words," Clarice shrugged and looked her friend in the eye. "That's all," she said with finality.

Ardelia looked at the stool on its side across the room and she noticed the disarrayed buttons on Clarice's gown. Her brow furrowed but she knew better than to push Clarice on the subject. "Do you want me to get Will?" She asked softly.

Clarice shook her head, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. "No," she smiled. "But would you mind helping me with my makeup again?"

"Of course," Ardelia smiled gently. "And everyone out there is ready when you are."

Clarice nodded. "I can't wait." She smiled happily.

To be continued. Please review.