DISCLAIMER: No, I don't own them and I didn't create them- Thomas Harris is the Man!

The only thing I own is my own dark imagination so welcome to my world!

CONTACT

Pearsall hung up the phone and sat at his desk burying his face in his hands. This case was miserable and it was making him even more miserable. Bad enough most of the victims were just teenagers. Did they all have to be girls? In his nightmares his daughter's face replaced the faces of every autopsy photo.

He hung his head, exhausted and anxious as he remembered the horror he felt upon discovering that Hannibal Lecter had been so close to his daughter. He had gotten close enough to touch her. Close enough to pass his Harpy over her tiny throat…but didn't. It seemed to Pearsall that as crazy as everyone believed Lecter to be, Starling had been right…he had rules. Never harm a child…never kill a female.

A man with rules has morals and morals can be appealed to. Maybe he could be reached. Maybe, for the sake of more girls, he might help. He picked up his cell phone and texted Bowman. Lloyd arrived at his office in short notice.

Pearsall waved a hand directing him to sit. Lloyd was curious and moved to the chair without taking his eyes off Pearsall.

"What did you want to see me about?"

"Lloyd, how did the Tooth Fairy correspond with Lecter?"

"He used a book code."

"Published in the Tattler correct?"

"Yes why?"

"If Hannibal Lecter is alive maybe we can contact him."

"That's an intriguing idea but why would he answer? If he is living freely there really isn't anything we could offer him to make him risk that freedom, especially if he has Clarice with him. He might chance contact if he were living alone out of sheer boredom but there isn't anything we have that would make him risk losing her."

Pearsall shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He was out of options and time was running out. They were no closer to catching the Ripper than they had been when Mariyah Bashandi was captured. Pearsall was willing to try anything.

"Look this latest abduction is a goddamned international cluster fuck! I've been getting calls all morning from Justice, from the Attorney General, The State Department…Christ, I just hung up from a call with the goddamned Vice President. We've got to find a way to get in this guy's head…if Lecter is alive he may be the only person who can. I want you to get it done, Lloyd. If you can think not only of how we can contact Lecter but what the hell we can offer him I'll pin a freaking medal on your chest myself."

"I might have to get a little unconventional, Sir. How far out of the box should I think on this one?"

Pearsall leaned over his desk and spoke in a serious tone.

"Lloyd if this girl turns up dead the entire wrath of the White House will come crashing down around our heads. Think as far outside the box as you can. Get Mapp on board. We might be able to use her knowledge of Clarice and Hannibal's relationship to figure out whether Starling is with him voluntarily or if the sick son of a bitch kidnapped and brainwashed her. Get me answers Lloyd. It's been ten days and that young girl doesn't have much time left. Are you on board?"

"On board, Sir."

"Great, now get the hell out of here and get Mapp. We need her."

STUART

The man who named himself after the Chesapeake Ripper was enraged when he received his latest copy of The National Tattler. The article only contained sections of his manifesto but the references were used in a mocking fashion. He stalked around the house, tossing books and papers, yelling his frustration to the bare walls. This headline read:

CHESAPEAKE RIP-OFF REINCARNATE

"They don't even get the point! It's all there in black and white as plain as day and these morons can't figure it out. Hell, what do I have to do spell it out for you? Was Lecter the only thinking man in the entire Western Hemisphere?" He took the paper, ripped it to shreds and tossed the pieces everywhere.

Stuart shifted his attention to the girl on the monitor. She was being suspended from the ceiling of the container by a bowline fixed under her arms. Her hands and feet were held down with a series of fisherman's knots lashed to hitch points welded to the base of the container.

Stuart looked at the clock. She had been suspended in that way for more than an hour. Being expeditious and efficient in his self-gratification he had only needed her there for five minutes.

He would have to lower her and feed her soon so he went to the kitchen, grabbed the plate he prepared earlier and tossed it in the microwave. When he was certain that it was heated thoroughly he took the dish outside, the steam rising as the evening air was quite cold. He walked quickly to the metal container she was housed in. Stuart flipped the lock, spun the combination and popped the clasp open.

Mariyah put on her 'best friend face' and smiled widely as he opened the door. She was incredibly uncomfortable and hungry but no matter how unpalatable the food had been, or how uncomfortable she was being tied up, he was showing up and bringing food, so she would smile.

If he was using the ropes, he wasn't using his tools so there was no need to panic unless he put a noose around her neck. She also desperately needed to use the bathroom and although the camper's toilet was not the most pleasant experience it was at minimal, hygienic and preferable squatting over a bucket.

Amazing what a person can get used to.

"I'm going to have to use the bathroom soon, Stuart…If you don't mind."

"No problem. I have dinner for you."

"Thanks. You really don't have to tie me up you know. It's not like I can get out of here and you have that camera so…"

"The binding isn't for the purposes of restraint…it…pleases me."

He placed the plate on the small table in the corner. "I'm going to switch to handcuffs so you can feed yourself."

"Can I use the bathroom first? It's been a while."

Stuart slipped one cuff on the girl's hand and untied the fisherman's knot from her right hand. He then loosened the knot from the left hand and brought her wrists together to secure the cuffs. He walked over to the makeshift pulley system she was suspended from and lowered her slowly. He kept her on belay for a moment.

"Test your legs and be sure you can support your weight. I don't want you to fall and hurt yourself."

Mariyah bounced on her toes to make sure her legs would not cramp and could hold her body weight.

"I'm fine, Stuart. Thanks for being so considerate. I appreciate it."

She watched her kidnapper carefully and studied his every move looking for anything that might give her an advantage. He was attracted to her, obvious in the way his eyes burned across her body every time he bound her. So far that was the only advantage she could capitalize on therefore she would be kind and attentive whenever she dealt with him.

He finished lowering Mariyah carefully then led her to the area in the back of the container. She walked quietly beside him and tried to make the process seem natural, almost as if it were welcome to her. She would have him remain calm and hopefully, if he felt secure, he might make a mistake. She was patient. She had to be.

Stuart smiled. "You're not like the other girls."

Mariyah was glad to hear it. The other girls were, after all quite dead.

"Well, I appreciate that you are taking care of me.I am your guest. I don't want to be rude. How am I different? Is that a good thing? Being different from the others?"

Stuart attached one side of the handcuffs to a clasp welded near the toilet. He allowed her one free hand, then moved from behind the screen and spoke to her from a polite distance.

"It's a very good thing. They yelled and complained and did they all beg. You're honest, quiet, and polite. I hate rude people. I hate begging even more. Well, I'll leave you to yourself to give you privacy. I'll be back in ten minutes and you can eat your food."

"Thank you Stuart." Mariyah replied cheerfully.

When the door closed, she sat, leaned forward, exhausted as she crossed her arms and rested her head.

It's amazing what a person can get used to.

ON BOARD

Ardelia and Lloyd had been working such long hours on the Ripper case that Lloyd was at their duplex nightly. Logan didn't mind having Lloyd around all hours of the day and night. It gave him someone to drink beer with, Ardelia had switched to wine.

Lloyd was having trouble keeping up with Logan but he wasn't going to let on. This was the first 'buddy' he'd ever had. Until now, his books and his computer were his friends. The good thing about the computer is that it has an off button. Logan has no such button.

Logan bounded in the room with two bottles hooked between his fingers. He reached out and handed Lloyd a local microbrew. "Try this one, Bowmeister. It's got a lot of flavor to it."

Lloyd tipped back the bottle and suppressed a wince. He actually hated beer but there was no way he would tell Logan that. When his lips left the bottle, he forced a smile. "It's great, Logan. Thanks."

"Anything for you Bowmeister!" Logan walked over to Ardelia and looked over her shoulder.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"I'm trying to figure out what drives him to kill whichever girl he has just to go look for another one. I mean if you've already got one…why chance capture to grab another. I guess they did something to piss him off!" She rubbed her eyes and allowed herself a moment to look at something other than the report she had been staring at for ten days straight. "Jesus this is frustrating."

Logan rubbed Ardelia's shoulders, laughing at her comment. "Well, Dee… I guess it's better to be pissed off than pissed on!"

Bowman laughed at the comment as he circled dates on a calendar. "There's virtually no mathematical pattern. It doesn't follow the lunar cycle either. It must be something the woman are either doing or not doing that drives him to it. That would make it almost impossible to predict. Anyone have an idea what the girl's menstrual cycles were at the time he killed them?"

Logan held up a hand. "Just a head's up my friend…don't mention PMS as a possible motive or my lovely lady with the exceedingly unstable hormone levels will rip your head off."

Ardelia rolled her eyes. "Shut the hell up, Logan. And to answer your question, some were menstruating at the time of their death some were not. I doubt that had any impact. They were provided with the necessary sanitary items so he had taken that into consideration."

"The Ripper buys them pads? Now I've heard it all! I'm going to watch football. You two have fun talking about tampons." Logan plopped himself on the couch and flipped on the television.

Ardelia looked up at Lloyd and winked at him knowingly. "You can pour that beer out now, Bowman."

Lloyd smiled as he walked over to the sink and poured the beer down the drain. "Thanks, Dee. I didn't want to look like a wimp."

"Not to worry, I won't out you."

Lloyd sat back down at the kitchen table and pushed through the paperwork he was reviewing. "I had a quick meeting with Pearsall when you were on the phone with D.C.P.D. this afternoon."

"I'm sure he was having a heart attack. D.C.P.D. is getting leaned on quite a bit. White House is involved so everyone is freaking out."

"Yeah, the Vice President had Pearsall on the phone this afternoon."

Ardelia smiled at the thought. "He must have been shitting kittens! I would kill to have seen him squirm."

"He wants us to try and contact Lecter."

"Lloyd, please tell me you didn't show that moron the video."

"Yeah, I did, Dee."

"Okay so let's assume that Lecter is alive and well and he has Clarice with him. Why the hell does Pearsall think Lecter would want to talk to him anyway? So he can toss him back in his dungeon and throw away the key? Lecter might be considered a sociopath by some but unless he has suffered some recent brain damage, he isn't goddamned retarded."

"Pearsall doesn't want to talk to Lecter…he's scared shitless of him. He wants us to try and contact him."

"And how the hell are we supposed to do that?"

"We post a notice in publications we know he reads…the Tattler, the Wall Street Journal, The Washington Post, any periodical that he has followed in the past."

"And what the hell in the world do we have to offer him?'

"That's what we have to figure out."

ACCEPTANCE

Clarice was not surprised when Hannibal slept past his usual time. He had never been a morning person and the night before had been the most eventful evening of their marriage. It was three a.m. by the time she had cleaned all of the gashes on his body and covered them. He insisted on changing and laundering the sheets before retiring. He didn't want his blood to stain them and it would have been distasteful in the extreme to sleep on blood covered sheets.

Clarice remained in bed for more than an hour after waking. It was the first time she had risen before Hannibal and she made excellent use of her time. Clarice touched her hand to his chest lightly moving her fingers through the soft curls of hair. She studied his features surprised at how gentle he appeared with his eyes closed, knowing that as soon as he opened them, his countenance would radiate intensity.

Here, sleeping, she could imagine what he looked like as a small boy, so peaceful and relaxed. His inhalations were deep, his exhalations prolonged. Hannibal was quiet in his sleep, moving very little. Clarice believed that it was because he had spent so many years on that small metal cot the mercy of Chilton. There had been so many years, without the slightest comfort, often times no blanket or mattress, not even a toilet seat. Clarice brushed an errant hair from his brow. His comfort now was a comfort to her. She whispered to him, so softly, so quietly…careful not to wake him.

"I love you, Hannibal Lecter…I've always loved you."

Hannibal stirred at the sound of her voice and shifted in his sleep onto his side, now facing her. She moved closer, feeling his breath move across her cheek. Even in his sleep, he had an air of royalty about him.

Count Hannibal Lecter the Eighth… even your name is regal.

Clarice snuggled against him, just for a moment, kissed his lips and slipped her hand under the sheet. She ran her hand across his stomach over his hip and down just brushing his length with her fingertips. She kissed him again, smiling as she remembered their earlier joining and slipped quietly out of bed.

Hannibal held his breath until he was certain she left their suite. He almost gave himself away when she reached below the sheet. Had the contact been more than cursory he would have been unable to control himself.

Clarice, I love you as well…I've always loved you.

It was eight a.m. and Hannibal was exhausted. He pulled the sheet over his shoulder and closed his eyes to thoughts of her.

It was ten a.m. when Clarice heard him stir.

She had gotten up early to review the files from the Ripper case. If only she could get Hannibal's advice. Though seeing his reaction to the photos, for his sake, she wasn't certain involving him would be a prudent idea.

Hannibal entered the room fully dressed and kissed Clarice on the top of the head. "Good morning, my Love."

"Hey, H. How do you feel?" She asked as she concentrated on the case file.

"Invigorated…like a new man."

She reached for him and ran a hand across his stomach, over his hip, running her fingertips down along the zipper of his trousers.

Hannibal smiled, recognizing she was tracing the same pattern over his body that her hand had made earlier in bed.

"I am enjoying what you are feeling Clarice but would like to know how you are feeling."

"I'll admit to being a bit sore, but very, very, content. You are an impressive man, Hannibal Lecter."

"You inspire me to be so."

Clarice watched Hannibal's eyes carefully to see whether or not he would glance at the file. He did not. "Would you prefer me to clear this material from the table?"

"No, that is not necessary." He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at one of the tall stools in front of the long granite counter top, keeping his back to Clarice.

Clarice contemplated closing the file. She considered mailing it back to Ardelia and forget that girls were dying. She may not be carrying a badge from the FBI but in her heart...she knew what was right. If there was any way to stop him from killing another girl, she would do it. That didn't mean she had to involve Hannibal. Not if it would hurt him. She wouldn't do anything to hurt him. She wanted him to know that. She needed him to know.

"Can we talk about it, H?"

"Talk about what, Clarice?"

She closed the file, walked to him and smoothed a comforting hand across the breadth of his shoulders. "Can we talk about the look that came over your eyes when you saw the crime scene photos. What drove you outside in the dead of night?"

Hannibal spun the stool to face Clarice, pulled her body between his legs and held her closely to him. He was well aware of the glow his eyes took on when he thought of such things...when he saw such things...when he did such things. He had never intended for her to see that look. He had hoped she hadn't noticed.

It's no wonder she was afraid of me.

He kissed her tenderly.

"My eyes are unusual in more ways than the color of my irises, Clarice. In very low light they dilate much wider than most. This unusual ability combined with color, give the appearance…well, they tend to glow. I apologize. I should have warned you of that tendency. Did it frighten you?"

"A little at first, don't forget we haven't been married long. I'm still getting to know you, H. Not to mention that you're an unusual and very complex individual. You're not like any other man I have met."

"I am not like any other man." He wrapped his arms around her. "You wanted me to look over your file. Do you understand why I hesitate to do so?"

"I believe it's because you're trying to deny your nature."

"Yes, Clarice but do you know why?"

"You think that it will frighten me…you believe that I won't understand that part of you."

"And by extension?"

"That I wouldn't…"

"Make an effort to answer honestly."

"…that I wouldn't…love you anymore."

"It is a reasonable inference."

"No, it isn't a reasonable inference. Knowing you doesn't make me love you less. It makes me love you more. I want to know all of you but that's not easy because you're accustomed to living a solitary life and emotionally you're unbelievably closed off."

"Not as closed off as once I was, my Love."

"True and last night I will admit, before I understood what was happening…I was frightened. Not of you…I was frightened for you. Just help me understand. I am already hopelessly in love with you. After last night…you should know that."

"Last night was wonderful, Clarice. I am quite touched you allowed me that."

"You still don't get it do you H? I didn't allow it…I am not tolerating your behavior. I welcomed it. I wanted it. You have to understand that I fully accept you as you are…your most unreserved…your most natural state. I am in love with you… all of you…the real you and nothing will ever change that…I will never stop loving you."

Hannibal closed his eyes and sighed deeply, holding his wife tightly to him.

"Clarice you are a wondrous puzzle to me, a constant surprise, and the only woman who has ever taken my breath away. Know that I will never stop loving you."

Hannibal prepared himself for what he was about to do.

"If you are certain you can handle this, Clarice… show me your case file and I'll tell you what I think."

Until the next chapter my friends!

LH