THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A BOY AND A MAN

The restaurant was buzzing when the couple left. The waiter was busy in the kitchen, showing the cooks the video of Hannibal crushing the huge man's hand.

The young man was jumping around pointing to the image on the phone.

"Watch the fat man's face, I got a good close-up…he was squeezing until that man's hand was crushed. The Doctor doesn't look as strong as he is. The man could not stand the pain."

The cooks were impressed, nodding to each other and laughing at the fat man's contorted features.

"Wait until you see the next part. Wait until you see him take his wife! He looks like such an elegant man…like a quiet professional but he's wild…you'll be so shocked!"

"Who is going to take his wife?" One of the chefs asked as he leaned over the stove to see the video.

"The Doctor will…wait until you see this. You won't believe it…they don't look like they belong together but they really love each other. It is crazy how they can't keep their hands off each other!"

The male cooks all moan collectively as, in the video Clarice grabs Hannibal and grinds against him.

"He's a lucky man, yes? Watch…here it comes!" The waiter previews, obviously excited for their reactions.

The workers are watching intently, their curiosity obvious as they stare unblinking at the tiny screen of the cell phone. When, in the video, Hannibal moves quickly to Clarice, their passion documented for posterity, the cooks and kitchen staff cheer loudly.

"Oh, My God, do you see what I mean…he's pure animal… he takes her like a lion!" The waiter impresses as he replays the video.

"They are crazy for each other. When they come into the restaurant, they can't keep their hands off each other."

An older man enters the kitchen. He is disturbed by the noise coming from the workers.

"Lower your voices it is much too loud and you are disturbing the dinner guests." He noticed his son, Hannibal's waiter, in the center of the activity.

"Francisco? What are you doing? You have tables to serve."

The kitchen staff, obviously terrified of the older man's wrath, scattered like rats from a sinking ship.

"Sorry Papa, I was just showing off the video I took. I didn't mean to get everyone so worked up. We'll be quiet you can go back to the dining room. I'll be there in a minute." He obviously didn't want to show his father the images on the phone.

"What video?" The father was obviously displeased. "Who is in this video?"

"The video is of the Doctor and his wife...and the loud fat man."

Judging from the expression on his father's face, the young man knew he was in trouble.

"I was just having a little fun."

"It is not fun if it is at another man's expense. You took this video of the Doctor and his wife… tonight? With what did you take this video?"

"With my cell phone when Doctor Dante hurt that fat man and then when he kissed his wife."

"Show me this video."

Francisco played the video. The precise moment the older man finished watching, he grabbed the phone from the young waiter's hands and swinging his large palm, slapped his son across the back of the head.

Embarrassed, the young man quickly lowered his eyes and stared at the floor.

"This is how you treat our guests! Especially a guest that helped us with a problem and who is now our neighbor? This is not how you were raised. All your education and this is what entertains you? I am ashamed of your behavior and as my son, I expect much better."

The older man pocketed the cell phone and folded his arms across his chest, shielding the pocket where he placed the piece of offensive technology.

The young man was mortified that he had so thoroughly disappointed his father. "I'm sorry, Papa."

"Tomorrow you and I will go to see the Doctor and you will apologize to him."

"Okay…but what about my phone?"

"You have shown you that cannot be trusted with it. Until you again earn trust, you will have no phone."

"I don't want to go…I'm afraid he's going to be angry."

"You are willing to take large sums of money when you serve this man because you feel you have earned it, but you are not willing to accept anger you have also earned? If he is angry with you, he is entitled to express it and you will accept his anger like a man, with dignity and grace. The guilt is yours."

"I know…it was stupid but he doesn't know about it…why can't I just erase it?"

"It is because the consequences must be yours. Accepting the result of your actions, no matter how difficult is the difference between a boy and a man. Taking that video was the action of a boy. Apologizing is the action of a man. Francisco, you are an intelligent person, you may decide. Tell me, will you ask me to erase it or will you apologize. Have I raised a man or are you still a small boy?"

"I'm a man, Papa. I'll apologize."

The father patted a consoling hand on his son's shoulder. "It is what's right."

The young man was not comforted.

HANNIBAL AND CLARICE: UNTIL DAWN

The offending morning sun beamed brightly as the couple once again collapsed into each other's arms. Hannibal groaned in pain and raised a hand as the light invaded his vision, his red irises far more sensitive than most to the intensity of the sun's rays. Clarice, seeing his obvious discomfort, quickly reached for the remote to bring the privacy shades down between the panes of glass.

Hannibal sighed as he welcomed the coming darkness. "Thank you, my Love."

"No, thank you, H." she flirted, trailing a fingertip down his sternum between his pectoral muscles.

Hannibal smiled and rolled onto his side, his eyes closing slowly as his body sought sleep.

Clarice moved to face him, running her hands up and down the length of his body, massaging him.

"Mmmmmm." Hannibal hummed his pleasure and stretched his body, fully relaxing his muscles.

She kissed his stomach, teasing small bites near his navel.

Hannibal was exhausted. "Rest now, Clarice…rest."

"Had your fill of me, huh?" There was obvious disappointment in her tone.

"I shall never have my fill of you, my Love, but it would be prudent for me to sleep for a bit before resuming. I'm not as young as once I was."

"You're only as old as you feel and last night, you felt pretty good to me. Have one more in you?"

"If I've not satisfied you as of yet, Clarice…perhaps I am losing my touch."

"Last night was heaven, H… you haven't lost your touch…" She traced a seductive finger over his lips. "And, actually I wasn't talking about you satisfying me, which you did…numerous times. I was talking about me satisfying you."

"I am more than satisfied, Clarice."

"Not like this!" Clarice placed a flat palm on Hannibal's shoulder and pushed gently, directing him onto his back. Kissing his closed eyes she whispered in his ear. "Hannibal…do you trust me?"

Hannibal opened his eyes and raised a questioning brow. "Do I trust you? What do you mean?"

She began to trail a series of soft kisses down his abdomen. His mind processed the stimuli.

Not unusual.

She continued to move down his body. Hannibal shifted nervously. This was unusual, highly unusual.

Why didn't she stop… she always stops.

Hannibal considered her, his head slightly inclined as he processed the situation. He had no answer.

"Clarice?"

"You always give to me…Let me give to you." She lowered her head to him.

Clarice had no problem receiving the particular pleasure she alluded to from Hannibal. While she never openly stated distaste for the act, she seemed to shy from it, therefore, Hannibal would not ask.

"Clarice?" Again, he sought some confirmation of her intention.

She ignored him and concentrated on his body as she trailed her kisses lower still. She traced tender kisses along his hip to the hollow curve of his pelvis.

Hannibal's breath was becoming shallow and uneven as she took him in her hand, encouraging him to respond. Though exhausted, his body would not betray, recapturing the vigor of their first coupling the evening prior. As she brushed her lips against him, Hannibal reached for her shoulders, his heart racing, he gasped between strained respirations.

"Clarice…you… don't have to…"

She paused and lightly touched a finger to his lips. "Love is giving and receiving… learn to trust me...let me give to you. Accept, H."

Hannibal pulled in a long breath and held it.

Clarice drew him in.

Taking a moment to relax into the contact, Hannibal slowly released the withdrawn breath in a prolonged, deep sigh.

As Clarice moved slowly over him, Hannibal watched her intently. He was captivated by her hair, swinging like a pendulum, sweeping back and forth brushing along his hip and thigh.

Hannibal's inexperience with the emotional aspects of sex complicated the experience for him. The contact, not unfamiliar to him, was much more intense than expected. He closed his eyes to reduce the stimuli. His vocalizations were deep and raw; the low rasping sounds rolling from his throat encouraged Clarice.

She repeated the movements that elicited the sounds, driving his arousal.

Hannibal matched the rhythm of her movements, enhancing his pleasure without escalating aggression. He was careful to allow Clarice full control.

Soft, sweet sounds hummed from Clarice as she enjoyed the scent, the texture and the taste of his body. The sensual sounds his lover made urged him, driving Hannibal's passion. His body ached, the fire burning low in his abdomen.

"Soon…Clarice…you need to stop...soon..." He wanted her to know that his end was near, a courtesy he offered when such a pleasure was afforded him. Every woman he had in this way heeded and appreciated the gesture.

Hannibal reached for her shoulders again.

"Clarice, stop."

She shook her head negatively and held him. Slow movements escalated almost imperceptibly until the increased speed drove Hannibal to the edges of his ecstasy.

Again he reached for her.

"Clarice… Please… Clarice…"

Again she refused and clutched his body.

Not wanting to be disrespectful, Hannibal's body shuddered violently as he tried desperately to stay his release. His heart pounded as if exploding from his chest, now breathless, he pleaded.

"Please...stop…I… can't…"

Clarice would not relent, nor did she release her hold on him. His flesh was immolating from the heat, his nerve endings searing, a collision of pleasure and pain.

Ignoring the instinct to reach for her and drive toward his end, Hannibal pulled at the bedclothes, arched his back and twisting fabric in his fists, fought off the approaching apogee. When he could hold himself no longer, Hannibal Lecter, his body shuddering violently, wracked in spasm, his mind swimming, found a single moment of clarity. He understood what she wanted.

…trust me...let me give to you. Accept, H.

Trust…Accept…Love...

Hannibal Lecter surrendered himself to Clarice.

Clarice accepted his release, holding him until the contractions of his body ceased. Finally, as his rapture waned, Clarice joined him by his side.

Cradling Clarice's body against his own, Hannibal wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him tightly.

"I have never experienced anything even close to that before today."

"I know that wasn't your first...you know… I've been online remember?"

"It was my first to completion, Clarice. Most women not only request it but actually do heed the warning."

"I'm not most women, H."

He stroked her hair and nuzzled her neck. "That is a fact of which I am eternally grateful."

She smiled. "Rest now, Hannibal…rest."

Hannibal and Clarice were unwilling to separate, their bodies intertwined, his bicep her pillow. His chin resting on her shoulder, his lover comforted by his warm breath at her neck. Finally, sleep finds them.

Until the next chapter my friends!

LH