{A/N: Here it is - chapter 2. It's finally due to your lovely demands. I have yet to elongate the chapters, and I sincerely apologize. My schoolwork has been in the way recently and I've been having some personal issues as well. I do hope that you like the chapter nonetheless. Don't forget to follow or leave a review. Criticism is much appreciated.}

Q/A: To the person who asked who my inspirations were - it was a few of my friends and one of my peers who frighteningly resembles Dr. Hannibal Lecter physically and mentally. Some of the scenes are actually inspired by my own experiences - not saying which ones.

- To The Uterlizer: Yes... But you'll have to keep reading to witness it. I did warn in the summary that there would be future expressive sexual situations, so..

ELLE ME DIT

Chapter 2

Silence filled the air once more due to the fact that Hannibal was wordless in the situation. It was honestly surprising to Clarice that he seemed a bit less composed than he was behind the glass wall in the past. She could only gaze at his hand, blinking while pondering her choices.

"I mean what I say, Clarice. I changed my intention for a good reason." He still felt his hand floating in front of her, he realized - empty. "You are tired, Clarice. I apologize. I can fix that, though. Do you still find yourself waking up in the dark hearing the awful screaming, Clarice? Hm?" He offered to wait for her once more. His impatience would be disruptive to his intentions. He could understand she was irritated, but he saw something else behind that annoyance. He saw the little girl mourning for her father, the dead night watchman. He only wished to protect her not as a surrogate guardian but as a lover.

How forthright.

"Clarice..." He could only murmur her name before the sweet tone left his lips. His hand lowered to his side once more as he stood, half coated in darkness. Honestly, he would repeat her name if he could. It gave him a perpetuated comfort. "I lost my family at a young age during the war in Lithuania. I lost my whole family. A brief moment was shared with my beloved sister, Mischa before she was cannibalized by military brutes.. Later on, I had discovered that I myself had semi consciously devoured her as well due to hunger. She saved me and yet, I feel hopeless. You bring back that hope back to me, Clarice." Trust was intended to be established between the two of them in that moment. He wanted her to know that he wasn't just a monster. He was a man, a human being, same as her. He wanted the same understanding and compassion that she sought. He wished to give it to her and receive from her.

What Dr. Lecter said took her aback slightly. She never knew, in fact, she didn't think anyone knew of his childhood. And now he had shared it with her. This sort of gesture could not be ignored or left alone. Letting out a sigh, Clarice rubbed her eyes for a moment, before dropping them back to her sides. Sadness was evident upon her face as she looked at Dr. Lecter, but she felt like it was not her place to understand or sympathize. She spoke quietly, quite frightened of the reaction she might receive. She had tried her best, but alas, Clarice thought she had said the wrong thing. The same thing everybody says when they learn of a family death. Clarice wanted to edge backwards in the thought that he might react badly, maybe hurt her mentally, as she continued to remind herself that he wouldn't harm her physically.

"I.. I didn't know." Clarice swallowed, trying to maintain eye contact with him, and added; "I'm sorry.." He had asked about the lambs, she suddenly remembered. She felt like he deserved an answer. "They continue to scream, Doctor. They never stop." She said softly, not wanting to provoke him with lies. His reaction, she was unclear on. She didn't know what to say or do.

"No matter, Clarice. I wished to share it with you. I trust you with this information and I expect no sympathy. You shared your past with me, I believe it fair to share you mine. Mischa completed me, Clarice. There is no harm in that."

He gave her a warm smile and proceeded to slowly reveal his compassion for her. He had to be careful. He understood she was fragile. Pulling the armchair close to her, he gave himself a spot to recline and be at ease. So much tension had been evident in the air around them, even he began to feel queasy just from the thought of it. He hated that he kept pressing his feelings on her, but he was obsessed. He had never loved like this before. Ever since the first time she had stepped into his dungeon, he felt it impossible to fully break her despite his endeavors. She was strong unlike the others. She was still impenetrable. He wished to return the favor. The moonlight finally revealed the two of them; no more darkness, now. He would not allow anything to be hidden between them. No more secrets. Whatever she would wish to know or uncover from him, she would be able to read like an open book.

"I will give you that knowledge supplied by your own acumen, Clarice. Will you allow me that right?"

Would you allow me to be with you?

The question hung in his mind like an empty rag doll. His eyes shimmered, his pupils dilated. Taking her ample hand in his own calloused ones, he placed her hand against his chest.

Clarice watched him sit down with the relief that he was not acting in a probing or aggressive manner. She exhaled slightly and sat back down, tense, not sure how to spit out her words. Clarice looked him dead in the eye, and spoke.. As he took her hand in his, there was still an ongoing argument in Clarice's mind. A part of her was repulsed that he was touching her, knowing of what those hands had done. That part was pushed down inside her, deep down, and almost forgotten. Another still sparked inside her, the idea of turning him in. Oh, what the FBI would say, what Jack would say. She would receive the highest honors. But Clarice was not an attention seeker. She did not leech off of compliments and pride, merely waved them away. And the final piece of her mind felt like this was right. Something told her that this was meant to be, from the day that she had sat down in front of his cell. It seemed that the urge to arrest him and the want to talk to him were fighting for her decision. Clarice wanted to talk to him. He was an intriguing man. It appeared that she would allow him to help her with the screaming; there was no better person for that. So she stared at him, memories of those few short sessions long ago flooding her mind. Was there anything there? Of course. The last time she saw him, how their fingertips had brushed, the way it crackled in his eyes. How could she forget? And now the session had begun again. Clarice's gun lay on the table. She glanced at it briefly before deciding that she would not need it.

"You may have the right, Dr. Lecter." She said, quietly and gently.

"You're conflicted, Clarice. I understand that, but I can help you. By doing this, I want you to realize that I am not a monster. Now, I wish to protect you. Rather than staining these hands with gratuitous blood, I will protect you."

Hannibal needed to reassure her. Noticing her flitting eyes, his own never wavered. Instead, with pursed lips, his Harpy slid out from inside his sleeve into the palm of his hand and with a fluid motion, flicked open the blade. Pausing for a reaction from her, he smiled and closed the blade with his thumb and opened her palm. He placed the blade carefully in the center and shut her hand into a fist. Placing her fist gently in his own palm, he patted her knuckles reassuringly. He cupped her face with his hands soothingly, a warmth emanating from his touch.

"You know what's right, Clarice. You have always been fair in judgment ever since our discussions down in the dungeon, you always knew what to say, what to think." With his thumb, he traced her jawline comfortingly, his tone lush and ambient. He needed her to know. His eyes gave off the same sensation as the time they had first touched. Except now, the look was prolonged and hopeful.

As Dr. Lecter closed her palm around the blade, Clarice felt an air of complete trust around her. The metal felt cool to the touch, but with the warmth it obtained while concealed in his sleeve. The idea that he could've killed her at any time struck her subliminally terrifying, yet she had faith that she would not be wounded at his hands. Thoughts after thoughts entered her mind, one being that this knife that she now held in her hand was probably the reason that someone, somewhere was now decomposing. Clarice took a deep breath and remained calm, pushing this thought from her mind. She did not even think about having to harm him with his own blade, this idea never even occurred to her, it was as if it had been misted over with the fog of trust that had arisen between them. Clarice allowed him to touch her face, not breaking eye contact. She stayed silent, her face showing no apparent emotion apart from subtle sympathy. Clarice did not feel that she needed to say anything to convey her emotion. She communicated with her eyes, and although they were dull with exhaustion, she knew that Dr. Lecter would know what she was thinking.

Hannibal registered his emotions and her reactions.

Brave Clarice. What will you do now? I have given you everything that I can. Do you still resent me?

"How about my liberty then? Will you take that now? Are you going to do that to me, Special Agent Starling?" He said it without missing a beat and pursed lips. He was almost confident, almost prepared. He would not go without a fight though, if that was the case. "I don't want you to show sympathy. I want you to show that you understand me and that you feel something as well, Clarice.." He almost grew desperate, desperate for this woman that had saved him from those dark days in the dungeon. He was about to do something absurd, but he had to wait for her to make the first move - for her to allow him into her life. It would be impolite to tread on territory that did not welcome him. His thumb still etched along her jawline, pausing just beneath her lips. The pad of his thumb covered the small depression briefly before he dropped his hands to his laps in a hopeless manner. His eyes deviated from her stare for the first time just as it had when she revealed to him the fact that he 'ate his trophies' rather than kept them.

Clarice watched him speak, and when he had finished, thoughts whirred through her mind. She could take his liberty right now. It would be relatively simple, as she had the advantage. She was on home territory. But Clarice couldn't do that, not after what he had shared with her about his childhood. She shook her head slowly, and opened her mouth. "No. I will not take your liberty, Dr. Lecter. It is not my place to do so." Her words were quiet, soft, comforting, her tone calm, although a small shard of fear still resided inside her. Clarice had registered what he had said. She couldn't think how she could show that she understood him. It was simple; she didn't. There was no way Clarice Starling could ever fully understand Dr. Hannibal Lecter. It seemed that once more, reminding her of the sessions in the dungeon, that she had to request his help to understand a mind like his. She wanted answers, she wanted to show him that she could help after what he told her about his family.

"How, Dr. Lecter? How can I understand you, when you are so complicated?"

"Let me guide you, Clarice. I promise you, I will not be complicated with you anymore after this. The answers will come to you once asked upon now. Do you understand that? "I need you to trust me. I want you to understand."

She nodded when Dr. Lecter asked if he understood, but did not speak. A part of it was exhaustion, another fact that Clarice was literally speechless.

Standing up, he took her hand and brought her up with him. Clarice was slightly taken aback by Dr. Lecter's sudden movement, but allowed herself to be pulled up. Her face was pale, yet her eyes were bright, although they were dimming like that of a dying light bulb. The dead weight he pulled felt like hesitance. He understood that, but with his own wiry strength, the dead weight diminished as he held her hands, a small distance situated between their bodies. Everything seemed somewhat surreal. She had accepted the fact that Dr. Lecter and she had chemistry, but she never thought in a thousand years that they would ever speak again, let alone be standing here, hand in hand. He realized that her judicial side refrained her from fully acknowledging what was being bestowed upon her at the moment. He gave her understanding, something she was trying not to gain, yet another part strongly yearned for that knowledge. He would feed that factor. Slowly, he allowed everything to register in his mind. A goddess was standing before him, a kindling light shining on her in a supernatural manner. He smiled and spoke softly. "You're beautiful, Clarice. The lambs will scream no longer, my Love." He finally said it. His hand traveled to her waist, the other hand held her chin in place delicately rather than firmly. He still gave her control. Leaning in, their lips made contact and his lips burned with a warm sensation.

Love. Something I have not experienced in a long time.

Everything felt simple at that precise moment. Would the same thought be registered in Clarice, he wondered. He was prepared for the worst.

She stayed expressionless as he took her by the waist and held her chin. She knew what was coming, and accepted it. Clarice kissed Dr. Lecter back, gentle, not fighting or demanding control. She wanted them to be equal, but she knew that on some levels, for example, intellect, this was not possible. But on the topic of love, she might be able to be his equal, a thought that seemed good to her.

She listened to him speak, and did not react to the sentences, though when he claimed that she was 'beautiful', she had to fight a smile. Clarice placed a hand on his chest, directly over his heart. Some part of her told her that this was forbidden. But Clarice disregarded this, and buried the thought deep down within herself. She knew that this had been coming, if indeed they ever met again. And there was no real problem here. Jack wouldn't know, the FBI wouldn't know. There was no way they could find out. Clarice mentally shrugged and smiled slightly.

Exhaling slowly, Hannibal in return embedded his own passion into the kiss. His hand shuddered slightly but stayed firm. Love was an unknown emotion to him. He himself did not understand the bold new territory he had stepped in. This yearning had led him into a forsaken knowledge. The common intellect he was exposed to, the complex fumblings in other people's minds had failed him because love was a sacred emotion that he had never exposed himself to. He pulled away from her lips and pressed his lips soothingly against the side of her neck, speaking almost timidly in her ear. "Do you see now, Clarice? You've changed me. I know not if it is for the better, but I will do whatever it takes to please you, my Love. Do you understand what you are capable of doing to me?" Hannibal allowed his hands to travel along her back as he slowly embraced her. He finally felt content, yet confused. The emotion of love was a mystery to him. He found that he had almost labored breathing. The kiss was extremely surreal to him. As refuge, he allowed himself the comfort of holding the fragile agent in his arms.

Clarice put her arms around Dr. Lecter, finding the embrace just as comforting as it was loving. He was huggable, she mused. The last person you'd expect to be a good hugger. But then again, he doesn't give them often, she thought. She took in his words, especially the word 'change', which sank into her slowly. Clarice did not think that Dr Lecter could change completely. In some ways, perhaps. But not entirely. This did not bother Clarice Starling. Her work was important, yes. She knew that if someone found out about this, her whole career would end in the blink of an eye. But Clarice was always one to take risks. She didn't know exactly what she was capable of doing to Dr Lecter, but she didn't think that this happened to many people either. Clarice opened her mouth and spoke softly. "I suppose I do, yes..". She responded, as she lay her head on his chest, and closed her eyes. Everything seemed so odd, and Clarice found herself wondering if this was a dream, but obvious signs told her otherwise. Clarice hugged Dr Lecter tightly, not really wanting to let go.

"Clarice.. I am unknown to this emotion.." His voice sounded desperate and weak. Hannibal Lecter was a formidable man, but when it came to his own emotions, he succumbed to them. He looked into her eyes and he felt content. The woman he loved had returned it to him as well. Nothing satiated him more than that. "I will need you to guide me in this emotion." He understood that she would not comprehend him at times due to his intellect, but he saw her as much more than that. He smiled weakly and ran the back of his hand along her cheek, pressing his lips against hers softly to try and get himself acquainted to the feeling.

Clarice smiled, and looked into Dr. Lecter's dark, probing eyes with mild amusement. It was strange seeing him at a loss. It seemed that Clarice, for the first time in their history, was the dominant force here. Unknown to the emotion.. Clarice knew the feeling. She had not experienced exhilaration until Dr. Lecter had sent her to Your Self Storage, where a decapitated head lay waiting for her. But it was definitely peculiar to see the ingenious Dr. Hannibal Lecter unsure of what to do. He was a man who knew everything, and now, it seemed, Clarice had him almost confused. As he kissed her once more, Clarice touched a hand to his cheek, and whispered. "Guide you? The Hannibal Lecter, expert psychiatrist, needs guidance?" She said softly, just humoring him. It also made her smile against his lips, and she had to hold back a laugh. Clarice stroked his cheek gently, marveling at his weakness on the subject.

A smirk daunted on his lips and he gave a mischievous wink. "A genius in many ways but one." He elicited a dungeon hiss in her ear, whispering. "Someone has a sense of humor, doesn't she?" He savored her touch. Exhaling softly, his nose picked up her perfume and he couldn't help but sigh contentedly. The warmth of her body against his was satisfactory and he locked these new memories away in a room of his memory palace labeled, My Love. "Clarice, would you do me the honor of allowing me refuge for a night? It seems that I really don't want to leave you alone." He grinned wolfishly and chuckled softly before pressing his lips against her forehead, a delicate kiss.

"A sense of humor, you could say that." Clarice said, her tone calm and quiet. "More of an ability to find the funny side of situations." She added, realizing him a little as she made the embrace gentler. Clarice thought about the question he had posed. She wanted him to stay, of course. But she had work tomorrow. Speaking of work, what would she be working for? The person she was searching for was right there, in her arms. It would look suspicious if she suddenly quit the case. Excuses whirred in Clarice's brain. She could tell Jack that she simply had no leads. He'd understand. But Clarice did not like lying. She told herself that one lie couldn't do that much harm, right? Right, she assured herself. "Of course. I wouldn't be so rude as to kick you out now, hm?" Clarice replied, looking up at him.

"No, of course not. Impoliteness from you would be quite spontaneous and unexpected." He winked at her and gave a curt smile. With pursed lips, he brushed an errant lock of hair away from her face as he looked down at her with eyes filled of wonder and joy. "Clarice.. Your work.." he sighed and nibbled on his bottom lip uncomfortably. "Leave with me... Everything you need, I have. We can be away from everyone.. Of course, you can tell your best friend, Ms. Mapp, of our whereabouts as long as she keeps it confidential. Whoever you trust, I shall trust as well." He felt a pang of worry and guilt for some reason. He did not want to take her away from her familiar environment. He was probably even acting selfish, but this was all for the benefit of her. He wanted her to be happy. This could be the perfect getaway.

Clarice nodded up at him as she took in his words. She wanted to leave with him, but her work was the thing that concerned her. Clarice Starling was a workaholic. And now.. Her work was over. But she couldn't just drop it. Leaving the case would surely arouse suspicion. "What do you have in mind? What could you do to help me leave without anyone suspecting?" She inquired, her head tilted a little to the side as looked at him, sensing his uneasiness. Clarice thought of Ardelia. What would she say if she left? Clarice had faith that Ardelia would not reveal her whereabouts, but she could imagine the pain her best friend would go through knowing that Clarice had run off with a potentially dangerous serial murderer. She couldn't think how she and Dr. Lecter could escape and evade detection. Clarice knew how the FBI worked. She knew that they could track down almost anyone they wanted (apart from Dr. Lecter, apparently). Clarice had her doubts. She just hoped Dr. Lecter could resolve them.

Hannibal blinks, quiet for a brief moment. He walked through his memory palace to seemingly sit down in the center to think. Mentally, he was troubled, but with his intellect he would be able to find a way. Considering the options available for the end to an FBI case, he carefully analyzed each scenario and sought a loophole. Opening his eyes, he announced it with a calm tone. "How can a case be worked without a person working the case?" He grinned wolfishly. Each path that would be needed to be taken was at hand. "I'll have to take you off the face of the earth, Clarice." He winked, leaning in to bite the air in front of her to intimidate her a bit. After a brief moment, he gazed into her eyes with an innocent and comforting look. "Do you trust me?"

{A/N: Don't forget to follow/review. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.}