A BRIGHTER DAY

The following morning Clarice woke alongside her husband, being careful to rest gently against his healing body. Since Hannibal's first incarceration, forced to repose on the painfully small cot that for more than eight years served as his bed, he had adjusted to sleeping on his back. Normally, his wife would have placed her head on his chest as she slept, though since Hannibal's surgical procedures and much to his displeasure, she had refused to do so. At least until his body was fully healed.

Clarice smoothed her hand over his chest, not as muscled as it had been before they left their home. She floated her palm across the rough, newly bristling, chest hairs just beginning to grow back from the surgery performed just over two weeks ago. She bumped her fingers over his ribs, now painfully obvious to her touch.

You're too thin, H. That's something we're gonna to have to work on.

Not wanting Clarice to dwell on his injuries, Hannibal refused to let her look over his healing wounds. Now that he was sleeping and heavily medicated, Clarice moved the sheet tentatively and examined him. She traced the very tip of her index finger along the uneven stretch of his scar, memorizing the length, the width and the line of it. Next, she reached for his thigh and found the smooth round scar situated at the separation of muscles between his quadriceps and his hamstring. She rolled her finger over the smooth, circular ridge, and guessed it to be the size of a silver dollar. Hannibal rested on the new keloid that marked his scapula.

More scars etched on a body already filled with them…too many of them because of me. I'm so sorry, H.

Without the soothing sound of Hannibal's heartbeat to comfort her, combined with her body's changes, Clarice's sleep the last few weeks had been fitful. This being the case, she decided to rise early that morning to prepare breakfast for her husband. Clarice watched Hannibal as he slept, his chest rising and falling with every breath. He looked majestic even in sleep. She kissed his cheek.

You're so handsome. It doesn't matter how many marks you have. I love you more with each one.

Remembering how it felt to hold her husband as his bloodied body cooled in her arms, Clarice's eyes welled and the bile rose, burning the back of her throat. She placed her hand on her chest and leaned forward choking back the tears. This newly found fear of Hannibal's mortality began to ebb its way back into her soul. She bent slightly at the waist trying to ease the crushing pressure spreading across her chest.

Clarice swallowed hard and closed her eyes to hold back the emotion. Though she could stay the tears, she could not suppress the flood of memories overwhelming her. The feel of his warm, slick blood, covering her hands. The release of pressure as she touched him a final time before they airlifted him to the hospital. Her heart quickened as she briefly relived the agony of that moment.

Get it together! You don't want him to wake up to a pregnant, hysterical wife!

Clarice reprimanded herself for what she saw as weakness. She wasn't the kind of woman who panicked and had open disdain for those women who found it necessary to feign weakness in order to be thought of as desirable. She had no such need to compromise herself. She was always steady. She was the calm in the storm. That was why she hadn't been afraid of Hannibal. Why fear someone that couldn't hurt her, though she had no way of knowing her wouldn't hurt her. The day she almost lost him was the first time since her childhood that fear had fully overtaken her.

I was so lost…so close to losing you.

Clarice watched Hannibal as he slept soundly, his expression so peaceful. The first few nights they spent in bed together, she hadn't been able to watch him sleep. Even now, it was difficult. He would feel the slightest stir and his eyes would open. It terrified her the first time it happened.

In his expression there was always a lightening quick spark. A hint of something dangerous, like the flashing glint of sunlight reflecting off the blade of a knife. Sleeping now, the danger disappeared. He appeared almost vulnerable.

So brave…even after taking that bullet, you confronted him to keep me safe.

Clarice was humbled by the sacrifice he was so willing to make for her, for their child, and it was the reason she loved him. Unlike most contemporary men he was old-fashioned… chivalrous. No one had ever or would ever put her so far above themselves than he. No one would ever love her with the depth and commitment as he. She was everything to him. He was now everything to her.

Okay, H…I'm going to make you breakfast so you just keep sleeping. I want to surprise you.

Normally, it would be nearly impossible to move undetected in Hannibal's presence. His senses were so highly tuned that he often felt the slightest shifting in the sheets. Anytime Clarice would roll over or move away from him, Hannibal would reach for her. She would have to be extremely stealthy.

Very slowly Clarice slipped the sheets from her body. Meticulously, she moved one leg, then the other to the side of the mattress, allowing her legs to bend at the knee and hang loosely over the side. She then, very gingerly pulled herself to a seated position, all the while watching Hannibal as she ever so gently lifted herself from the bed.

Surprisingly, Hannibal did not move. Clarice assumed, as Hannibal had explained, that the pain medication prescribed to him had provided an unusually deep sleep. He told Clarice that he would never have taken it had the FBI still been seeking him. As a fugitive from justice Hannibal had always relied fully on his senses. Medication dulled those senses. Pain enhanced them. Thus, Hannibal preferred pain. Clarice would not hear of it. By manner of a compromise, and of course to please his wife, he agreed to take the medication, though only at bedtime.

Pausing for a moment, leaning on the richly carved walnut post of the large bed they shared, Clarice looked back at her husband's sleeping form. He was quiet in sound and movement. Even at rest he was elegant.

I love you, H.

As was their custom both spouses slept nude, so Clarice quietly slipped on her robe and moved to the kitchen, smiling widely. She believed herself to be quite the magician that she had been able to leave their bed, for the very first time, fully undetected. She padded barefoot and silently, tiptoed from the room.

Clarice moved about the kitchen opening the cabinets and peering in the pantry. Hannibal had the local grocer deliver fresh food within an hour of their arrival home. He had apparently placed an order online before they departed Washington and phoned the grocer upon landing to confirm the time of delivery.

It hadn't dawned on Clarice that preparing for an extended absence Hannibal had cleared the kitchen of perishables before their journey to the states. She was thankful he had been so organized. It was easier to prepare a meal from a fully stocked kitchen. Considering both his health and her limited expertise with meal preparation, Clarice settled on an egg white, spinach and cheddar cheese omelet with fresh fruit and wheat toast. She would make oatmeal as well. He needed the calories. She was grating the fresh cheddar when he entered the room barefoot and like Clarice, wearing nothing more than his robe.

He stretched his arms and arched his back, covering his mouth as he yawned widely. "Good morning, my Love. I was more than disappointed to wake and find myself quite alone in our bed. One would think you were trying to avoid something."

Hannibal moved behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her slightly by bending her body against his. Clarice stretched down to reach her toes back to the ground, careful to take the weight off her husband without hurting him.

"Damn it H, don't do that! You'll pop a freaking stitch or something!"

"They used staples, not stiches which have been removed and the wound is fully healed…" Hannibal lowered his wife gently. "…but your wish is my command, Clarice."

Searching the air, his nostrils flared as he breathed deeply allowing the aroma in. "I thought I detected food preparation but being that I was not in the kitchen, I assumed that either I was dreaming, or I had awoken in the wrong home."

Clarice thrust her hips to the side, freeing herself from her husband's embrace. "Very funny, H…here I am scraping my knuckles trying to grate fresh cheese for your breakfast and you mock me."

"My apologies, Clarice…really I am quite touched by this." Hannibal reached for her again and moved his hands across her swelling abdomen. "How are you feeling? I notice that you have not been sleeping as soundly as is customary."

"I'll sleep better when I can rest my head on you again. I miss the sound of your heartbeat. It helps me fall asleep."

"I miss that as well, Clarice though I'm not as fragile as you seem to believe. You need not adjust your sleeping habits. It will have no ill effect on me. Please, tonight let us return to our normal routines."

Nudging his face against Clarice's and comforted by the warmth of his cheek against her skin, Hannibal rested his chin over his wife's shoulder. He growled soft and low in Clarice's ear the rumbling of it tickling her neck. He teased gently at her earlobe and moved strong his hands up and down her body, massaging her as he pulled her close.

Hannibal slowly passed his right hand up her thigh, tracing the curves of her body along her waist, over her arm and along her collarbone. He deftly slipped his hand within the fabric of her robe, gently cupped her breast and rolled his thumb across her nipple.

"Mmmmm, I've missed you, my Love."

Clarice's body tingled at the contact but she very uncharacteristically shrugged him off.

"Sorry H, no way. You're going to have to shut that routine down for a little while longer. The doctor said no sex for you…you're on the mend."

"I understand why you are overly concerned with my health, Clarice but I assure you, I am quite recovered. There is no need to be overprotective."

Hannibal was not one to be easily discouraged. He nuzzled his nose under Clarice's hair and began to kiss his wife's neck. Trailing along her skin he breathed deeply, inhaling her scent as he continued to brush his lips along her flesh, teasing small bites along the way.

"It isn't as if I don't want it, H. It's been just as long for me as it's been for you. If I can do without…you can do without."

"Do you realize how much I adore your scent Clarice? It has become more necessary to me than the air I breathe." He pressed his body against hers so that she could feel his need of her. "It also contradicts your last statement. You are having as much difficulty with this as I."

"C'mon, H…you're killing me!" Clarice interrupted. As much as she wanted him, and she did want him, she would not let him risk his health. "The surgeon said no strenuous activities for two weeks."

Hannibal would not be dissuaded easily. He grabbed her hips and again, pulled her against him. "I am more than two weeks post- surgery and it need not be strenuous, Clarice. I promise I will behave myself. I am quite content to allow you to assume the driver's seat, so to speak."

Clarice plated the food and pulled away from Hannibal, brushing past her husband's body as she carried their meals to the table, his arousal obvious.

"Put that thing away before you hurt someone, behave yourself right now and come to the table."

"This is not conducive to my recuperation Clarice. I am being denied necessary attention and I fear it will slow my recovery."

"Sit down, shut up and eat."

Hannibal sat where directed and smiled widely as Clarice placed a full plate of food in front of him and a bowl of oatmeal beside. He was well aware that prior to their relationship, she had been perfectly content with microwaveable meals or a bowl of dry cereal. She had never been enticed by the culinary arts therefore this was quite unusual behavior for Clarice. She had always been perfectly content to allow him to prepare all of their meals. Realizing that this was her way of ensuring his recovery he mused over her newfound and definitely temporary domestication.

"Very well done Clarice, I am quite impressed."

"I've been watching you. I picked up a couple of things." Clarice was self-conscious, not at all confident of her culinary skills. She waited for his reaction as he placed the food in his mouth.

"I know it's not as fancy as anything you can prepare H, but was definitely made with love."

Hannibal carefully lifted a section of the omelet with his fork and very closely examined the selected morsel.

"Made with love and eggshells apparently, Clarice."

"Don't be such a wise ass, H."

Hannibal reached across the table and held his wife's hand, running his thumb back and forth across her palm. "I was merely teasing. This is more thoughtful than I can say. It is kind of you to care for me."

The couple sat quietly, enjoying their breakfast as Mozart lilted over the intercom. Though the early morning sun usually streamed through the kitchen window, this morning the golden shafts of warm light beamed into every single window. The rays of light brightly illuminated the home, Clarice having spent a good deal of time raising all of the privacy shades. Hannibal of course, noticed.

"The home is quite bright today, Clarice… a reflection of your sunny disposition, perhaps?"

"It's more a reflection of the fact that we have nothing to hide from, H."

"Ah, yes…it is quite a thing. We should send Agent Bowman a note of thanks."

"You gave him two hundred fifty thousand dollars, H. I don't think Hallmark has anything in their inventory that can top that."

"Still, a personal, handwritten note of thanks is a courtesy too often overlooked."

"That's why I love you, H." You are ever aware of the proprieties.

"Alas, Clarice…when I am in your presence, impropriety is the only thing on my mind."

The shimmering morning light reflected across Hannibal's profile and looking closely Clarice noticed his face was still slightly drawn. She had over the last week, become more concerned at the amount of weight her husband had lost during his brief incarceration and subsequent hospitalization.

"Make sure you eat the oatmeal as well. You still have a few pounds to put back on, H. And I'm sure your cardio could use some work. You've got to increase your muscle tone as well."

Hannibal smiled and winked at Clarice.

"I have been attempting all morning to illustrate the increase in my muscle tone."

"You're very funny H." Seeing Hannibal had finished his breakfast, Clarice stood to clear the table.

Seeing this as his opportunity, Hannibal moved the plate further away so that Clarice would be forced to lean over him to retrieve it. Clarice reached for the plate and Hannibal turned his chair to face her and very quickly, without warning grabbed her hips and pulled her onto his lap. She landed unceremoniously, now straddling him. Hannibal rapidly wrapped his arms around her.

Clarice would not pull away from him for fear of straining the muscles of his chest wall, or pulling against his injured shoulder. "That's not fair! You know I won't pull back."

"All is fair in love and war, Clarice."

Hannibal buried his face in the opening of her robe, bit the lapel and pulled the silky fabric back with his teeth to release her breasts. His breath caught in his throat from the site of her. He lowered his head to her and lavished her with attention.

"H…oh, god…H…stop."

Hannibal inhaled deeply. "Forgive me, my Love, however your scent and your words are incongruent, therefore, I must decline." He returned his attentions to her breast.

"I'm afraid for you, H." She squirmed slightly, though the contact aroused him even more.

Growing breathless from the contact and having little restraint, he rasped in her ear.

"Clarice, I will reach completion today with or without your help. I would prefer it if we could share this as I believe you are equally frustrated and think it would be far less strenuous for me than a solo run in the shower."

"Okay H. Because you're a surgeon, I'll trust your judgment if you're positive it won't hurt you."

Between teasing kisses he spoke. "I am… absolutely… certain… my Love."

Clarice lifted herself over him and lowered herself slowly along his body.

Hannibal gasped as they joined internally, they held each other as Clarice set the ground rules.

"You don't move if you can help it. I'm going very slowly and if I think you're having a problem I'm stopping, got it?"

"Yes…yes... I've got it." Hannibal made a concerted effort to slow his breathing. He didn't wish for Clarice to misconstrue his mounting passion for pain.

Clarice began to move very gently with Hannibal attempting to remain as still as possible. His wife worried about him and he would respect her wishes. He buried his head against her neck, biting gently into her deltoid muscle, careful not to mark her or break the skin.

The fire at his center burning, Hannibal kept his eyes closed very tightly wanting to stay his release to assure his wife's pleasure. With their movements so slow and protracted, if he had watched as she moved against him, he would not have been able to hold himself back. It had been for too long since their last joining and his self-control was extremely limited. He would have her satisfied first.

Clarice listened carefully to her husband's breathing. Judging that he was not in any pain, she increased her movements, increasing their pleasure. Hannibal grabbed her hips and began to pull her to him. Clarice watched his chest rise and fall.

"How are we doing, H… any pain?"

"None…I'm in heaven, my Love…you?"

"Almost there."

"Allow me." Hannibal returned his attention to her breasts, teasing until he heard three quick uptakes of breath. She held her breath for a moment. Hannibal held his breath as well.

"Relax, my Love."

Finally, a soft, airy moan escaped her lips as she surrendered herself to her passion.

The breathless sounds of ecstasy escaping his lover drove Hannibal forward.

Clarice, nearing her end, moved with much more urgency. Instinctively she reached to lean on his chest, but, feeling the contact of her hands on his scar pulled back and placed her hands behind her head.

Hannibal looked up and seeing Clarice, her arms raised fully exposing herself to him, groaned. "Clarice…my…Clarice…"

"H…H…" The waves washing over her, Clarice's body shook against Hannibal's as her delicate muscles contracted, grabbing him, holding him tightly within.

Hannibal leaned his head on Clarice's shoulder, the contact almost too intense as the exquisite spasms persisted. Taking long, deep breaths he attempted to calm himself until he was certain Clarice was sated. When her breathing began to slow, Hannibal pulled his wife close to him. Though he promised he would not move he ached for release. Resting his head on Clarice's breasts, letting his lust wrest control his hips surged with his need to fill her.

Finally, Hannibal relaxed and allowed the intense waves of his own rapture to seize control of his body.

Clarice held her husband, whispering her love in his ear as his body began to tense.

Hannibal shuddered, holding Clarice as tightly to him as he could manage, his newly healing muscles quaking from the overwhelming onslaught of his first release in several weeks.

Clarice held his shoulders and very gently moved as her husband's breathing hitched several times his body trembling in her arms. As his rapture slowly subsided and Hannibal's breathing slowly began to align with hers, Clarice took his face in her hands and tilted it toward her. She wanted to be certain he was uninjured.

"You okay, H?" She asked with no wish to hide the concern in her voice.

"I am magnificent." He held her close and whispered in her ear. "Welcome home, my Love."

Until the next chapter!

LH