"Yeah, I really don't see how that's a good thing, do you?" Clarice paced nervously around the kitchen, obviously confounded by the plan. "I need to see Hannibal, Dee. Get Pearsall on the phone and see what the procedure is."

Ardelia reached out and touched Clarice's shoulder. "You can't visit him. He forbad it."

"Who the hell does Pearsall think he is?" Clarice stalked across the kitchen and threw her coffee mug into the sink smashing it to pieces. She was absolutely furious.

She and Hannibal had spent only minutes apart each day and hadn't realized how much she had come to rely on his presence. She needed him…Now.

"Clarice you don't understand it wasn't…"

Clarice interrupted Ardelia before she could finish her thought.

"Fuck Pearsall he doesn't have the right to stop me from seeing my own husband. I'll call that son of a bitch myself and tell him where he can..."

"Clarice!" Ardelia interrupted her friend's emotional tirade. "Pearsall didn't forbid it…Hannibal did."

Clarice looked at her friend, dumbfounded.

Hannibal did? Hannibal doesn't want to see me? That can't be right…it can't be.

"Ardelia that can't be true…he wouldn't."

Lloyd Bowman shifted uncomfortably. This was getting personal and he was desperate to get out of the room and get out of that house.

Lloyd put the photos into the envelope. "Look Dee, I'm gonna drop these off at the hospital where Barney works. I'm just in the way here. I'll let myself out."

Ardelia waved Lloyd away and put her hands on Clarice's shoulders. She made eye contact and held Clarice's attention, trying to refocus and calm her.

"Clarice, it would kill him to have you see him like that again. He knew you would be emotional and didn't think he would be able to watch you walk away from him in tears, knowing that he couldn't comfort you."

Ardelia saw the tears welling in Clarice's eyes. She put her arms around her friend but the embrace was of little comfort. Clarice Starling was inconsolable.

"Do you know what our last moment together was, Dee? What I did to my husband before they dragged him away? I strapped that goddamned mask to his face! I took that monstrous mask and I covered the face of the man I love with it. That was the last thing I did for him…to him… Jesus Christ…I can't do this…I can't do this. I don't even remember if I told him I loved him."

The tears were streaming down her face, her body shaking from utter despair.

Ardelia could only hold her. "Don't worry, Clarice…he knows…he knows."

Lloyd left the women standing in the kitchen. Logan had come down the stairs as Lloyd was getting ready to leave. "Hey what's up Bowmeister! Where are you going? I thought we were all gonna do breakfast?"

"Yeah, change of plans…Clarice just found out that Hannibal doesn't want her to visit him at the prison. She's having a bit of a meltdown. I wouldn't go in the kitchen if I were you. I think she's going to need a little time."

Logan stood on the bottom stair and raked his hand back and forth through his hair, obviously confused. "Dude, he's totally fucking alone…I don't get it… why wouldn't he want her to visit him?"

"My guess would be that he wants her to see him only as her husband, not as Hannibal the Cannibal again. Not to mention a prison is no place for a pregnant woman."

Logan shook his head. "Yeah okay, I get that but…it's kind of cold blooded. She really loves him."

Lloyd opened the door. "And I'm sure he really loves her…that's why he won't see her…not like that."

"I see what you mean." Logan was a little depressed, thinking about Clarice and Hannibal separated. "Dude…this sucks."

Lloyd agreed. "And it's probably gonna suck a whole lot more before it gets any better, my friend."

Lloyd got in his car thinking to himself that in all the time he had investigated Lecter's case, Hannibal, the man, never seemed like a real person to him. He seemed Homeric…mythic, but seeing Clarice, in tears, absolutely devastated, obviously in love and in so much pain at their separation…suddenly, in Lloyd's eyes, he became the most human of all men.

THE TATTLER

Barney was chosen to deliver the photos because, aside from Clarice, Hannibal trusted him above all others. Not to mention that in all of his dealings with Lecter's memorabilia, he was quite astute at the business aspects of this sort of dubious transaction. He would not be undercut or cheated.

"No, Sir. When I said one million dollars I meant one million dollars, but if you want to barter, I will be more than happy to shop these photos around a bit more. I'm sure the National Enquirer would pay closer to two million for them."

The editor was salivating at the sight of the photos. Barney could see the dollar signs dancing around the man's head as he imagined the copies of the Tattler, with Clarice Starling kissing Hannibal Lecter through the bars of his mask, flying off the shelves.

The man leaned forward. "Will you take a check?"

Barney smiled and shook his head. "You're kidding right? No checks… you can have the money divided equally and wired to a series of accounts that I have set up specifically for this transaction."

The editor picked up the phone and spoke to a representative at the bank. He handed the phone to Barney who very efficiently relayed all of the banking information, including routing numbers and the account numbers Hannibal had delineated.

He finished speaking, handed the phone back to the editor and took out his blackberry. Quickly and efficiently he checked the balances of each of the four offshore accounts Hannibal had created for this purpose. When Barney was satisfied that the money had indeed been deposited, he stood, shook the editor's hand and gave him the envelope teeming with photos.

"Thank you, Sir. It has been a pleasure doing business with you. Have a nice day."

The editor spilled the photos out across his desk, thrilled at the acquisition. "Oh thanks to you, I will…I most certainly will!"

PROGRESS REPORT

Doctor Burgess had instructions to report to the FBI offices at Quantico as soon as his interview with Doctor Lecter was over. He hurried to the location knowing that representatives from the pardon office, the State Department, Justice, the White House, the Egyptian Prime Minister, and of course, the FBI would either already be present or would be arriving soon.

He pushed the door of the conference room open. Much to his dismay, everyone had already been seated and anxiously awaited his report.

"I am sorry to leave you waiting ladies and gentlemen. I have just finished my interview with Doctor Lecter and got here as quickly as the interstate allowed."

Pearsall took control of the situation. "So, what did you come up with Doctor Burgess? Did you conclude that the homicidal freak is still a homicidal freak?"

Burgess slid quickly into a seat and poured himself a glass of water from a carafe in the center of the table. He took several quick gulps, loosened his tie and opened his notes.

"Actually no, that was not my conclusion and though I was not the psychiatrist of record when Doctor Lecter was deemed to be insane…I must say that he appears to me to be intelligent and actually quite an insightful man. Though I would prefer more time to evaluate him, I believe him to be quite sane."

Pearsall shook his head. "Well, I guess in the land of the blind…the one eyed man is king."

Prime Minister Bashandi raised a hand to speak. "Excuse me, gentlemen…if Hannibal Lecter is indeed sane, does that mean that he is no longer a threat? If so, when will we be able to collect more information from him? I would like to remind you, time is exceedingly precious to me."

The lawyer from the Office of Pardons needed a definitive response. "What is your recommendation, Doctor Burgess? Do you believe that Hannibal Lecter will ever take another life? Can a cannibal be…cured?"

"If we are to believe Doctor Lecter's explanation of his pathology, no…I do not believe he will take another life and yes, I believe that he has indeed given up the practice of cannibalism."

Pearsall sat wide eyed and staring at the psychiatrist. He didn't believe there was any possibility that Hannibal Lecter could be deemed a sane man. "You're kidding, right?"

The psychiatrist sorted through his notes and glanced up at Pearsall. "No, I am not. He knows right from wrong, he understands the consequences of his actions and is quite motivated not to reoffend."

The representative from the white house needed more affirmation. "Excuse me, Doctor Burgess, could you please tell me on what facts do you base your opinion that Hannibal Lecter will not reoffend."

Doctor Burgess looked the man directly in the eye and with absolute certainty answered.

"I base my evaluation on the fact that Hannibal Lecter is not only in love with and dedicated to his wife, Clarice Starling, but that his wife is pregnant with the couple's first child. His only concern is to provide a safe and nurturing environment for his new family. I believe that as long as he remains with Clarice Starling… he will absolutely not re-offend."

Pearsall drummed his fingers nervously on the conference table. "Are you confident enough about Lecter that you would be willing to submit an affidavit to that effect?"

"I will be quite comfortable submitting an affidavit to include in the pardon application as soon as I finish one last interview."

Bashandi was desperate to move the process along. "Who else do you need to interview?"

"I need to interview Hannibal Lecter's wife… Clarice Starling."

HANNIBAL ALONE

Hannibal Lecter sat in his cell staring at the blank walls. He had enough of an intellectual library to absorb his attention through endless hours of solitude, but he was not interested in any of the things that would normally have occupied his thoughts. The total sum of his consciousness centered on thoughts of his wife.

What are you doing now, my Love? Are you thinking of me? Are you as lost as I?

Throughout the months of married life with Clarice, Hannibal had grown quite accustomed to her company. He missed her scent and the sound of her voice. He missed her footsteps bounding joyfully throughout the house as he read or played the piano. He missed her touch and the nightly weight of her body as she slept soundly against him, her arms around him...her head resting on his chest.

People will say we're in love.

At home in Argentina, even when they were physically apart he could feel her presence. In their home they were never far from one another. Here in this place, Hannibal could not feel her presence…all he could feel was a profound pain in the center of his chest, a bottomless loss, his soul aching and empty for want of her.

Would you stay with me in my prison cell and hold my hand, Clarice. We could have some fun!

Hannibal closed his eyes and recalled their very first meeting in Baltimore, Clarice so young and so full of life. She had something that no one else had in his presence…confidence. She was not intimidated by him. She challenged him. He could detect no fear in her. Instead of fear, there was anticipation in her eyes; a fire within her that Hannibal wanted for himself. Though he touched her only briefly in Memphis, that slight contact ignited sensations within him that kept him longing for her, waiting for her, wanting her, all those years ago.

You were so very brave…my Clarice. Are you being brave now? Surely they have told you that you cannot see me. What you do not know is…if you were to come, I would not be able to continue in this and I must see it through to the end, for your sake and the child's…not my own.

He had been in that first cell for more than eight years…after the attack on the nurse, he had seen only men. He missed the company of women. He missed the sound of them…the smell of them. But Clarice was not just any woman. When she arrived it mattered little to him that Crawford dangled her like a carrot in front of him. What mattered was that for a few minutes out of the day, he was in her company and that was enough. He longed to see her then…he longed even more to see her now.

Hannibal turned over on the cement bunk serving as his bed. Unless Pearsall arrived for more information he would be alone, aside from food deliveries, for the remainder of the day and evening. He closed his eyes, folded his hands across his chest and tried to stay the utter anguish of loss he was feeling without his wife by his side.

Hannibal Lecter was alone in his cell… alone with his sorrow… alone with thoughts of Clarice.

Thank you to all my faithful friends who are reading and reviewing! You make every day a joy. You are truly appreciated! To my new friends, thank you for reading. Drop me a note and say hello!

Until the next chapter, my friends!

Ta-ta

LH