LOGAN'S BUDDY

"What'd you say, Lloyd?" Logan asked as he hopped off the treadmill and moved to the free weights. He hoisted large plates to a bar and slid the collars on the end. Logan curled the bar quickly and easily.

Bowman stole a sideways glance, definitely suffering from bicep envy. Logan pulled at the bar, his muscles flexing larger that Lloyd Bowman's thighs. Lloyd counted quickly, including the bar, one hundred and seventy pounds.

Christ he curls more than I weigh!

Feeling emasculated in comparison to Logan, Bowman pumped furiously at the stationary bike as if driving the pedals forward would visibly raise his testosterone level.

"I said if you were wondering how your buddy was doing? Why don't you just give him a call?"

In between grunts, Logan complained, "I want to, but Delia won't let me. She told me I have to wait, but, Dude, I totally hate waiting."

Ardelia shot a glare in Logan's direction.

Jesus Christmas Logan, shut up! Lloyd's smarter than he looks!

Seeking to deflect from the topic, Ardelia countered, "Logan's just obsessed with some jarhead he went through LeJeune with. The guy is a real head case…probably has some post- traumatic stress wrapped up with a lot of narcissism."

"He's fucking awesome..." Logan offered between rolls of the weight bar. "…and you know it, Dee."

"That's enough, Logan." She warned.

"A real 'climb the clock tower and take out the town' type of guy, huh?" Bowman chuckled.

"No! He's totally cool. Man, everybody doesn't fit into little cubbies labeled 'PERFECTLY NORMAL' you know, I mean… I know I don't." Logan laughed. "And, I'm actually kind of proud of that. Who the fuck wants to be normal... Dude, normal sucks!"

"Yeah and that's part of your charm, Logan." Ardelia thought it might be best to change the subject.

"So Lloyd… Pearsall said we have a meeting with the task force."

"Yeah, don't you check your email? Tomorrow at nine o'clock, they have identification on the girl but they aren't reporting it yet."

Ardelia did a double take as she climbed off the machine she was on. "No kidding? Why not?"

"The girl's got some kind of political or international connection. I guess it is a huge deal because after the briefing, the White House Press Secretary is going to hold a conference."

Ardelia jumped off the treadmill and grabbed her towel. "Wow, really… shades of Catherine Martin."

"No, this is bigger…international I think…a real situation."

"Yeah well I'm gonna laugh my ass off, cuz if that's true you'll be wishing you had my buddy's help on this one…crazy or not!" Logan set down the weights. "Then you'll be begging me to call him!"

"Yeah, we might have to call in the Marines." Bowman agreed. "This one won't be easy."

"OOO-RAH!" Logan boomed.

Ardelia picked up her towel and gym bag. "I'm hitting the showers. Let's go, Logan. You're my ride and I don't feel like hanging out next to your car waiting so when I move you follow, handsome."

"I'd never leave you waiting, Dee. You don't have to worry." He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in. "Hell, I'd follow you anywhere."

Logan waved at Lloyd, "Catch you on the flip side, Bowmeister!"

Bowmeister? A nickname…Cool!

Grateful for the 'Bro-name', Bowman waved a little too enthusiastically and responded in kind.

"Catch you later, Loganator!" Lloyd making an obvious reference to Logan's 'Terminator' level physique.

Logan laughed. "Loganator! Well done, Bowmeister…well done!"

THE RIPPER

When the young woman woke from the drug induced slumber, her mind was foggy, her eyes strained to find their focus. Terrified, she attempted calm her nerves by assessing her situation. It was dark, the area illuminated from the single bulb swinging from the ceiling. Her eyes searched for any information that might aide her.

Where am I? No traffic. Not near a major road. I'm isolated. Rectangular…metal...is it shipping container… or maybe tractor trailer?

She checked her physical status.

Arms tied… crucifix position. Legs are bound. Duct tape…not much hope of breaking it.

She strained her neck.

Head is not restricted and no gag. If there is no gag…there is probably no hope of being heard.

"Hello? Hello?" She called out, not really wanting a response. A response would mean who ever took her, was still nearby.

A man slowly appeared from the shadows. She quickly sized him up.

Physically strong, too tall, I won't be able to overpower him.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked, his voice much higher than she expected.

"You took me from my school?"

"Yes."

"Why? What did I do to you?" She asked, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible.

"The question isn't what you did to me. The correct question is what am I going to do to you?"

BECOMING HUSBAND

Hannibal didn't set Clarice down until he placed her on their bed.

"My evening included quite a bit of physical exertion, therefore I must shower before I join you, Clarice. If you find yourself drifting to sleep, I would not be offended. It is quite late and I am certain the stress of the evening weighed heavily on you."

"I wouldn't compare my discomfort tonight with yours, H."

"Discomfort is discomfort, Clarice. Mine is no more significant than yours."

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, my Love."

Clarice sought to be supportive. "You can shower. I'll wait up for you. I thought you might need to talk."

She yawned widely, covering her mouth and waving a hand as if trying to negate her body's response.

Hannibal's patience was wearing thin. His nervous system was functioning on overload, still churning with adrenalin and endorphins. His body, though extremely fit, was no longer accustomed to handling the chemical changes and without benefit of solitude, he was having difficulty corralling his predatory responses.

"You are being quite stubborn, Clarice. It is obvious you are exhausted and to be perfectly honest with you, at this particular moment I do not feel the need to relay the evening's experiences. I will be much more suitable company tomorrow. Right now, I need a shower and a few moments to gather myself."

Hannibal had not expected Clarice to meet him outside of their home; therefore, the time he would have taken to come down from the emotion of the evening had been unknowingly disallowed.

The physical and psychological energy that surged through him and was now radiating from him was misinterpreted by Clarice as aggression. This aggression she believed was being directed at her personally. Tired and having worried about him all night, she lashed out somewhat irrationally.

"Why are you're trying so hard to put me off?" She snapped, "I only want to help."

"I do not require your assistance."

His maroon orbs flashed crimson, giving him the appearance of a nocturnal animal, eyes glowing in the moonlight.

Clarice challenged, rising to her knees she reached out and poked him in the chest.

"And don't give me that lone-wolf-in-the-woods look. It doesn't scare me in the least."

Hannibal recoiled slightly.

"I am going to pretend that statement was not made, Clarice as I am aware you are exhausted. I will make every effort not to respond in kind as I am equally spent and I do not wish to overreact. Please, leave me be."

"I was worried sick about you tonight so don't condescend to me you Son of a…"

Hannibal spun to face his wife, his frayed nerves getting the best of him, he warned, "Clarice, mind that you do not finish that sentence. I would prefer my mother not be referred to as a female dog."

"Why in the goddamned hell shouldn't I call your mother a Bitch? You called my parents poor tornado bait white trash!"

"I do apologize. That was much earlier in our relationship, Clarice. I believe the dynamic has changed."

"Oh, the dynamic has changed all right, Doctor." Clarice rose up and stepped off the bed. She was now toe to toe with Hannibal, posturing aggressively.

Hannibal could feel the rage boiling within him. He fought to suppress it. His nostrils flared as he used his senses to assess the situation. He could smell it. Fear. From his Clarice? No, not fear of him. Instead, fear for him.

She was afraid for you. This isn't anger…it is fear…do not respond in kind.

"Would you use my title instead of my name, Clarice? Has it truly come to that? After all we have…"

Clarice was so enraged she didn't allow him to finish the sentence.

"What…after all we have of what, Doctor Lecter? You chose this dynamic! You choose everything! All I wanted to do was comfort you… all I wanted to do was show you that I understood the chance you took to protect us. All I got back from you was a pat on the head and a push off to bed. I won't be dismissed like that! I'm not a goddamned child!"

Though he had promised himself not to respond, the lateness of the hour and his frustration with the events of the evening belayed his intention.

"If you are not a child why are you behaving as such by having this tantrum, Clarice?"

Exploding with frustration Clarice Starling lashed out and slapped Hannibal Lecter directly across the face. He accepted the full force of her attack without flinching, though he could have easily evaded the contact.

Clarice stared at him, wide-eyed, her hand still stinging, the buzz of contact radiating across her palm. As soon as she felt the sting of her hand hitting his flesh, she wanted to take it back.

Too late. The damage is done...I hurt him. I'm just like everyone else in his life...I hurt him.

Her heart sank as the evidence of her anger raised a red, perfectly formed image of her hand on his flesh. Another mark on the body she vowed would see no more pain. Agonized, she watched for his reaction. Her eyes met his, her heart seeking to tell him what she could not.

H...Please...I'm so sorry...I love you...please... I'm so sorry.

Clarice reached a hand of comfort to him.

His breath rough and ragged, Hannibal held his trembling palms up, gesturing for her to stay at a distance.

His body shuddered, not from the pain of the impact, but from the heart wrenching anguish of it. Emotion being channeled through his laser red eyes, they narrowed slightly. His chest heaved and his muscled shoulders shook as he fought a mighty internal battle, struggling, drawing on everything within his power to chain the savage destructive power of Predator.

Clarice was helpless. Hannibal was rage.

Until the next chapter my friends!

LH