HELLO MY FAITHFUL FRIENDS! WELCOME BACK!
PROMISES MADE
Hannibal had already showered, dressed and was attempting to wait calmly for Clarice to return from her run so they might plan for the day. He was not as successful as he would have liked.
Come along my Love. Patience is not a virtue I have in abundance.
Thus far he was failing miserably, moving from room to room like a caged animal. Since his recent incarceration, he had been feeling far too restricted. In pain a good deal of the day, his temper had been short. He believed his wife had similar frustrations.
Are you feeling equally pent up, Clarice…would you be amenable to a day of shopping in town?
She would need maternity clothing soon and they had a nursery to set up. Hannibal now paced around the kitchen, listless and quite frankly a little bored.
Frustrated beyond his capacity to cope, he had attempted to stay his boredom at the piano but was forced to stop practicing. Too much repetitive movement caused him pain. Hannibal moved about the music room and rolled his shoulders, attempting to work the pain out unsuccessfully.
There was now a foreign clicking sound, a slight knot in the muscles and a constant burning of his overworked shoulders and chest. The physicality necessary to execute the pieces at the level Hannibal was accustomed required flexibility and fitness neither of which he had regained in sufficient measure. The surgery to his chest, back and shoulder restricted his range of motion and lessened his stamina dramatically. He was unable to sit and play for more than a few minutes at a time.
How far are you running, Clarice? You rival Pheidippides!
He left the piano room and went to the kitchen as if the change in scenery would signal a change in his mindset. Walking back and forth, his mind churned as he paced, practically wearing a trench in the flooring alongside the center island. Suddenly, Hannibal had a brainstorm, moved quickly to the counter and opened the laptop. Going into town would be enough for today, but what they needed was a distraction. He decided to go online and plan a surprise for his wife.
It is time to show you off, my Love.
With no reason to concern themselves with detection, after all they had been through it was time to take his wife out on the town. Hannibal quickly searched the cultural events for the following weekend to see what Buenos Aires had to offer. He decided to purchase tickets to the Teatro Colon. The Orquesta Filarmonica de Buenos Aires was having a Rachmaninoff program featuring piano concerto no. 2 in C minor op. 18 and Symphony no. 2 in E minor op. 27. Hannibal smiled. He was quite content with the idea of an evening at the philharmonic with his stunning wife at his side.
Perfect. Clarice can visit the spa at the Four Seasons…there are museums nearby. It will be a wonderful weekend.
Hannibal had been worried about the level of stress Clarice had endured for him and the effect it may have had on her pregnancy. He believed his wife deserved a brief respite. He would pamper her.
Time to wine and dine you, my beautiful wife.
He booked a suite at the La Mansion at the Four Seasons and hired a car for the night believing the fifteen minute walk from the hotel to the Teatro Colon might be enjoyable if the weather cooperated but a secondary plan would be needed in the event of rain.
Reaching for his wallet, the moment was surreal as Hannibal closely examined his name, boldly emblazoned on his Black card, Hannibal Lecter VIII. He smoothed his thumb across the evenly raised letters, this insignificant piece of imprinted plastic provided tangible proof of his current non-fugitive status.
A name, my name…nothing more than a jumbled collection of letters, yet so much power had been hidden within it…the power to imprison…the power to be set free. What about me is changed…nothing at all but the perception of others?
The transfer of that card had been one of the most difficult procedures during the entire switch back to his actual identity. This particular card had been obtained under one of Hannibal's oldest and most reliable aliases. It had not issued based on any application, but by personal invitation from the company. Reams of documentation from various banks and the FBI had to be provided before the name change was indeed approved.
No longer under the radar though no longer in the crosshairs either. I don't know which is preferable.
He slipped his charge card back into his wallet, finding it a bit disconcerting to be able to use his given name to book the tickets and the accommodations. He did wonder to himself what the downside to this lack of anonymity might be other than the obvious fact that the FBI could now track his exact whereabouts at all times. Hannibal was certain this was the reason they were so helpful in transferring his aliases back to his original identity. They would always know exactly where in the world he was.
They have me in the palm of their hand…or do they have me by the throat...Ah, the things I am willing to do for you, Clarice.
Though it made him exceedingly uncomfortable, he allowed this assistance as the reclaiming of his name was important to Clarice. It mattered little to Hannibal. Whatever name he used was immaterial other than the obvious protection each alias had provided. Ever vigilant and unbeknownst to the FBI, Hannibal did however maintain one alias so that he and Clarice would have an emergency backup plan. He also maintained passports, credit cards and a sizable bank account for this identity in the event the need might ever arise.
Clarice arrived from her run to see Hannibal seated at the kitchen counter. Upon her entrance he quickly closed the lap top. She raised an eyebrow, curious as to what he had been doing.
Okay...what are you up to, H?
Her skin was glistening from the exertion of her run and Hannibal was mesmerized.
Don't you feel eyes moving over your body Clarice?
His heart beat faster as his eyes moved over her form, memorizing the changes in her body. He could feel the rush of blood to his cheeks as he admired the soft curve of her belly now swelling with life. There was a burning in the pit of his stomach as Hannibal's focus shifted to the perspiration that pooled in hollow of her collarbone. His breath caught in the back of his throat and he forced himself to look away, distracted as he imagined what it would feel like to dip his finger within and trace the moisture tracking a line to her breasts.
Her auburn hair fell across her shoulders, locks tumbling and curling from perspiration. Clarice was slightly out of breath. Hannibal held his breath. "You are a sight to behold, Clarice."
Seeing his reaction, Clarice smiled. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing, H?"
With a long, protracted sigh, Hannibal slowly released the breath he had retained. "For me…it is a very, very good thing."
Clarice smiled at the compliment but would not be distracted. "What'cha doing, H?"
Hannibal looked up and smiled slyly. "That is a surprise, my Love."
She grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from her brow. "Enigmatic as ever are you? When will I find out what it is?"
"Next weekend, and don't bother to check the history on the computer, ex-Special Agent Starling as I have already deleted it."
She snapped the towel like a bullwhip at her husband, attempting to pop him on the backside with it.
His back still to his wife, upon hearing the rich terrycloth cut through the air, without turning, Hannibal reached back and with the quick snap of his wrist, snatched the end of the towel from the air a moment before it made contact with him.
"Really Clarice…an attempted assault with a towel…is that the best you can do? If your friends at the FBI could only see you now… oh how the mighty have fallen." Hannibal winked and smiling widely he moved along the length of the towel hand over hand reeling his wife in toward him.
"You know me too well, H." She laughed as she pulled back slightly feigning protest as he pulled her in.
"I know you well enough to stay one step ahead of you when it comes to planning a simple surprise."
Hannibal turned the ornately carved stool toward Clarice and pulled the towel across his body, drawing her into him. He didn't stop tugging at it until she was situated between his legs. He wrapped his arms around her and held her against him. He squeezed her body gently with his thighs.
Clarice held him close and whispered in his ear. "You might not have been an easy man for the FBI to track down, but thankfully, you always let me catch you."
"And I always will, Clarice." Hannibal kissed his wife very tenderly, the embrace lasting several minutes.
As they kissed, Clarice opened her eyes very briefly. Her heart raced as she watched the expression on Hannibal's face. He no longer struggled with his emotions as he expressed his love for Clarice physically. An obvious tenderness overcame his features every time he kissed her. It was a look that was not present at any other time.
Hannibal's brilliant mind commanded the very core of his being every single moment of the day except when he kissed Clarice. When they kissed, his countenance took on a different kind of concentration, one not of thinking but of feeling. This soft, loving expression and the accompanying aura of vulnerability it reflected touched her very soul.
Upon seeing it, Clarice's heart swelled with love for him, warming her to the very center of her being. Unaware of her admiration, Hannibal's expression was relaxed and unguarded. Every wall, every obstacle the world had placed between them had been torn down.
Every boundary to their love now surmounted, it moved her to see the utter trust with which he regarded her. In her arms her husband was now emotionally open, completely defenseless, and absolutely and utterly content to be so.
As he finally pulled back from the kiss, the moment they separated, she could still feel the indelible impression of his lips on hers. The impression made on her heart was equally indelible and absolutely more significant.
Clarice was breathless, resting her head on her husband's shoulder. Hannibal spoke first.
"I'm feeling a bit caged today. Are you in the mood to get out this afternoon? We haven't left the compound since our return. I thought you might like to go into town today? Perhaps do some shopping." Hannibal hoped that Clarice had been feeling as trapped as he.
Her curiosity was piqued. "Shopping for what?"
Hannibal lifted a length of her hair and twirled it absentmindedly around his index finger. "Nothing in particular...anything…everything…it is my desire to spoil you, Clarice. Not to mention, we have a baby to prepare for."
"I've been going a little stir crazy so I would really love that, H. When do you want to leave?"
"I had intended to spend the entire day with you, have brunch, the shopping and possibly dinner depending upon my stamina. We needn't return home until much later this evening. We can leave as soon as you have showered, if that is to your liking."
Clarice kissed him excitedly. "It is exactly to my liking, H. I'll hop in the shower and I'll be ready in no time."
"I'll join you in the bedroom. I have to prepare myself as well."
Clarice was thrown by his last comment. Hannibal was fully dressed and she wondered what preparations remained. Hannibal joined Clarice and as she was more than a little curious she watched him very carefully.
Hannibal walked over to his dresser and opened a small leather case. Clarice immediately recognized what he was doing and became instantly agitated.
"What the hell are you doing?" She sounded displeased and her tone gave Hannibal pause.
He remained calm. "I am inserting the colored lenses to mask my irises, Clarice."
She moved across the room and put her hand on his arm, interrupting the process. Her voice was raised more in frustration than anger but she remained absolutely adamant.
"No…no more…I don't ever want to see those lenses again! There's no goddamned reason for it!"
Clarice put her arms around her husband's neck and fixed her gaze on him, her sincerity evident. "Please, I love them… don't hide your eyes…don't hide yourself. There's no need."
Hannibal kissed her gently, holding her chin between his thumb and forefinger. He rested his other hand on the small of her back, pulling her close to him. He could feel her heart racing against his rib cage. This was obviously something she felt very strongly about.
"I appreciate your support but I was not covering them because I feel the need to hide. I was covering them for your comfort, Clarice."
He turned back to the mirror and believing he had provided an acceptable response, proceeded.
Again, she stayed his hand, however this time she removed the case from his hand, tossed it in one of the drawers of his dresser, and slammed it closed.
"You can just pretend those are gone. I don't ever want to see them covering your eyes again. And what the hell is that supposed to mean anyway? Why would the lenses be for my comfort? You know how much I love your eyes and how much I hated that you were forced to cover them!"
Hannibal turned toward Clarice and laced his fingers through hers, holding her hands against his chest.
"Clarice, you have never lived in a world where anyone other than your small circle of friends has interacted with me as Hannibal Lecter, maroon irises and all. It can be extremely disconcerting. People have long been afraid of my eyes. Even before my so called crimes. People will most definitely stare and comments will be made, discreetly perhaps, but that is not certain."
"I could care less if people stare, H."
"Still, I thought the lenses would lessen the attention paid to us. We have been in the news quite a bit as of late and our small town has its share of tourists. The locals will be polite because they have interacted with us previously and therefore, on some level feel they know us. The visitors are quite another thing."
Clarice still did not understand. She placed Hannibal's hands on her waist and reached for him. "Still…I don't get it… why would the lenses be for my benefit?"
"I wouldn't want you to be embarrassed or…"
Hannibal thought better of the comment he was about to make and stopped mid-sentence.
Clarice was never one to shy from an argument. She chased Hannibal down with her questions. "Or what, H…? What were you about to say?"
Hannibal lowered his head. "Leave it be."
She reached for his chin and lifted his face to hers, challenging him with her eyes. "Yeah, not likely…finish your sentence, H."
"Clarice…" Hannibal held her gaze but held his hands up in supplication, seeking to calm her.
Clarice could feel the heat of anger flush her face. "Finish your thought…embarrassed or what, H?"
He took a deep breath and let the words fall. "I wouldn't want you to be…ashamed to be with me."
Clarice sat back on the bed, utterly flabbergasted by the suggestion.
"What? What did you just say? I can't believe you just said that to me, H. I can't believe it. How could you ever think I would be ashamed of you or embarrassed to be with you? I married you! I took your name! Your real name! I want everyone to see me with you…with the real you!"
"People will not react as you believe. There will be those who will be…afraid of me. Putting my recent actions aside, my past will most definitely precede me."
Hannibal took a seat on the bed beside Clarice and faced her. She was upset and he was the cause.
"This will not be an easy transition. There will be…challenges. If it is your wish that I face the world as I am, I will do so however, you must promise that you will face it with me, my Love… no regrets."
"I promise, H...no regrets."
Hannibal took his wife in his arms. His heart was heavy, knowing that her promise to him, sincere though it may have been…would eventually be impossible for her to keep.