Welcome back my friends!

HANNIBAL'S FRIEND

Logan stepped between Hannibal and Pearsall. He placed a hand on Hannibal's shoulder as if displaying publicly precisely on which side of the line in the sand he stood. Logan was firmly with Hannibal. He faced off with Pearsall.

"Dude, why would you talk to Clarice like that? It's…it's disrespectful. She's a lady."

Pearsall stood deadly still as if the lack of movement would in some way make him invisible to Hannibal thus protecting him. Hannibal's eyes and his anger remained focused on Pearsall. Pearsall surveyed the room.

No friends here. They're all with him. What the fuck is wrong with this picture!

With the lethal patience of a boa constrictor, Hannibal Lecter waited watching Pearsall's struggle.

Logan continued, "We're all waiting for you to apologize to Clarice…she's Mrs. Hannibal Lecter now, not Clarice Starling…she's not an agent. You can't talk to her like she's crap the way you always talked to her before."

Pearsall looked at Hannibal for a flash of a second, and quickly looked away as if contact with Hannibal's eyes burned him or in some way transmitted a highly communicable disease.

He passed through metal detectors so he probably doesn't have a weapon, but he didn't have one when he attacked that nurse…Christ what am I talking about…he's a weapon.

Aware of the precarious nature of his situation the Deputy Director struggled to find the words that might extricate him.

Hannibal was still staring directly at Pearsall. His brilliant mind had already processed several possible courses of action and the ramifications of each. There was no way he could continue to challenge Pearsall without appearing dangerous. The consequences would be swift and unyielding.

The precise moment his mind chose inaction, Hannibal's eyes blinked quickly, like the nictitating membrane sliding across the eyes of a snake. This physical process instantly disconnected any emotion attaching Hannibal to the incident. Upon the reopening of his eyes it was as if a switch had been flipped. His attention shifted from Pearsall to Clarice.

Concern filled her eyes.

Hannibal's spark of molten rage cooled instantly much like a white hot branding iron steams to solidity when dipped in cold water. Hannibal Lecter's state of mind often shifted that way, from the anger of molten ore to steely resolve of forged iron. Hannibal turned his back to Pearsall and took his place beside Clarice. She reached for his hand and squeezed it. Her way of letting him know she appreciated his defense of her, but recognized his self-discipline.

Though his face remained as fixed as granite upon feeling his wife's pride, somewhere very deep within himself Hannibal Lecter smiled.

It was unusual for him to speak without making eye contact though he did precisely that. Clearly dismissing Pearsall out of turn, facing Clarice, Hannibal gave Pearsall his back as he spoke.

"Do not waste your breath on an apology Deputy Director. My wife and I need nothing from you, least of all your feigned penitence."

Pearsall circled Logan and approached Hannibal and Clarice. He was terrified but knew his credibility hinged on his manners in this instance.

"Doctor Lecter…Clarice…"

Hannibal's head spun and his eyes flashed rage at the uninvited familiarity, Pearsall stepped back quickly, clearly terrified. "Doctor Lecter…Mrs. Lecter, please…allow me to apologize for my rudeness. I shouldn't have been that…blunt.

"Or that familiar, Deputy Director Pearsall," Hannibal hissed through clenched teeth.

Pearsall's heart danced within his chest, "Or that…familiar, Doctor Lecter. Please, I'm very sorry."

Hannibal looked to Clarice for a response. Clarice nodded. Hannibal answered for them both, "Your apology is accepted, Mr. Pearsall."

Pearsall released the breath he had been holding and directed the group to the large conference room next to his office. The assemblage took their seats with Pearsall at one of the end of the large table and Hannibal at the far end.

Pearsall began the interviews, "I called this meeting to clarify the events that took place several weeks ago. Does anyone have any statements they would like to make or any additions to their initial reports?"

Ardelia started things off, "Sir, if I might…Why in the name of sweet Jesus are we here? We, each of us were interviewed several times by the Office of Professional Responsibility the Justice Department, the local Police Department…you get the point. Anyway, it's obvious the deaths were justifiable. Excuse the pun but what's the point in beating this to death?"

Pearsall sat looking at the table debating whether or not to be honest. Knowing that he had already lost trust by insulting Clarice, Pearsall decided he should probably be truthful.

Hannibal detected the camera Bloom and Graham placed. He's always ahead, always prepared. I'll just fuck this up if I lie. Let's see where this goes. It's not like he can kill me in front of everyone.

"I understand that Doctor Lecter is more than just a genius. The reports from his incarceration say his mind processes several trains of thought simultaneously and autonomously and I'll be honest… I can barely remember what I had for dinner last night so I'm not going to insult everyone here by operating under false pretenses."

Pearsall relented not only to acquire trust but also because he did not have the resources, the energy or the inclination to attempt to trap Hannibal Lecter. Not to mention that Hannibal had already gotten to Pearsall's daughter once. The first time, Hannibal surreptitiously pinned a note to the child's jacket. The next time he might not reach for a safety pin, he might reach for the Harpy to pierce her heart. Pearsall didn't want to give Hannibal Lecter a reason to get to his daughter a second time.

No one spoke. Hannibal simply tilted his head to the side and regarded Pearsall searching for any sign of deception. Where are you going with this Mr. Pearsall?

"As I said, Doctor Lecter, out of respect for your wife and with respect for your intellect I'm not going to insult you by making up a lame excuse for bringing you here. I need you to agree to meet with Doctor Alan Bloom."

Hannibal moved very slowly as he processed the information. Pearsall seemed to be presenting an honest request. Hannibal needed more information and wondered how much Pearsall would be willing to offer. "What possible motivation would I have for doing so?" Hannibal inquired staring directly into Pearsall's eyes.

"I'm assuming since you own that property in Baltimore outright that you want to feel welcome to return to this area at your leisure. In order to insure that, the Justice Department and the White House want you psychologically evaluated."

"I have already been psychologically evaluated in order to satisfy the needs of the White House," Hannibal reminded.

Pearsall nodded, "Yes…well we all know that was merely a rubber stamp. No one wanted to chance that Bloom wouldn't clear you. We needed to secure the safety of the Bashandi girl and you weren't living in the States then. You also hadn't recently killed two people either. Makes the President a little twitchy, you know?"

"Yes, well…what doesn't make the President twitchy? So, I am to be assessed by the esteemed Doctor Alan Bloom?" Hannibal continued.

"Why the hell would Hannibal agree to be mind-fucked by Bloom?" Clarice argued.

"Because if he doesn't, they'll revoke his passport and they'll bring him up on murder charges for those twisted sons of bitches he killed."

"He only killed one of them. I got the other," Clarice asserted.

Pearsall leaned across the table with his palms flat on the surface, "Before or after he tore the male victim's heart out of his chest?"

Not a one of them spoke.

"A bit of advice, the next time you shoot a couple of holes in someone to cover up evidence of a crime obliterate the organ fully. We lifted several prints from the heart…Doctor Lecter's fingerprints."

Ardelia spoke up, "Doesn't matter who killed the bastard. The only way to save Hannibal's life was to kill Nico. Any jury would see the deaths were justified."

Pearsall did not disagree, "Even if the deaths are judged to be justified they're still…disturbing. The powers that be want to be certain Doctor Lecter poses no risk to the public at large. Aside from you Doctor Lecter, Bloom is the best in the field."

"Bloom is the best in the field? My, how the herd has thinned," Hannibal remarked sarcastically.

Bowman, who had been quiet to this point, raised a questioning hand, "What are the standards by which Dr. Lecter will be judged?"

Pearsall raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"What exactly are they evaluating? What are they judging? What tests will they be administering?" Bowman pursued, "If you are asking Doctor Lecter to subject himself voluntarily, it would be negligent not to ask exactly how and what you are testing?"

"How the hell should I know? I was leaving that up to Bloom. He's the expert."

"Actually, Doctor Lecter is the expert," Ardelia added. "I don't understand what the upside would be for Hannibal or Clarice to agree to participate."

"He gets to stay out of jail." Pearsall answered Ardelia directly.

"You are intimating that if I do not agree to this testing, I will be taken into custody?" Hannibal questioned.

"Yes. If you don't agree to the interviews the Prosecutor has been asked to bring charges." Pearsall confirmed.

Hannibal immediately focused on the plurality, "Interviews? Are you suggesting there is to be more than one meeting?"

"There will be as many meetings as is required to determine your…" Pearsall's words braked in his mouth.

"My what," Hannibal challenged knowing the answer but forcing Pearsall to verbalize it.

"Your… sanity, Doctor Lecter." Pearsall responded, very carefully removing any insinuation from his tone. He continued in earnest, "Whether you choose to believe it or not, I'm not your goddamned enemy. I'm trying to be a friend here."

Hannibal sat very quietly with his hands unmoved on the table. He looked at Pearsall and considered the man carefully. Again he blinked much like the shutter flicking quickly across a camera lens.

Hannibal Lecter's face remained a blank canvas on which Pearsall painted his fears.

"Deputy Director, I would like to speak with you privately."

"Privately…like with your wife as well?" Pearsall's lower lip trembled with the query.

"No…privately…we two, alone," Hannibal corrected.

Pearsall did not respond. Hannibal could smell the scent of fear begin to churn from the man.

Pearsall's mind sought an excuse. Any excuse. "Do you keep secrets from your wife Doctor Lecter?"

"My wife and I share everything. She knows things about me that would terrify most women however she is not most women. She is absolutely singular. No we have no secrets. I was offering you the gesture of privacy."

"I don't need privacy." Pearsall stated as boldly as possible attempting to mask his quivering stomach and quaking bowels.

"It is not only an offer of privacy. It is an extension of trust. My friends would have no problem being alone in a room with me. You say that you are trying to be my friend. I am attempting to take you at your word. Would you allow that? Do you trust me my friend?"

Pearsall's heart began to flop around in his ribcage like a dying fish tossed on a dock. The panic in his eyes evident to all, he sat for a moment and thought about his options. If he said yes, he could earn some trust, though Hannibal could attack. No…Hannibal wouldn't attack with so many people involved. Not with Clarice nearby.

"I'll allow it, Doctor. I tr…trust you." Pearsall stated with as much conviction as he could bolster, hoping the stammer went unnoticed.

Hannibal nodded and one by one each of his friends stood and left the room. Clarice remained standing next to her chair for a moment longer. She wagged a finger at Hannibal.

"You play nice now, H."

Hannibal held a hand up in acknowledgement, "Of course my Love."

"Do you have it with you?"

"Always."

"Keep it in your pants."

"Not presently, though I understand the sentiment and will show restraint."

The Deputy Director correctly assumed they spoke of the Harpy. The thought of the weapon let slip his anxieties, Pearsall's courage and resolve now as tenuous as a dried leaf twitching on a wind whistled bough.

Clarice looked over at Pearsall. He had a wise mouth but he had never stabbed her in the back. He faced her each and every time. She thought she owed him an out if he needed it. "You okay Mr. Pearsall? It's just us. If you aren't comfortable, we understand. Hannibal is an acquired taste. It takes people a while to warm up to him."

"Yes, as you might expect, cannibalism carries a bit of a stigma in certain social circles," Hannibal joked.

Pearsall answered Clarice as he laughed nervously at the absurdity of Hannibal's comment, "I'm fine, Mrs. Lecter."

Clarice looked at Hannibal, understanding her question without her need to pose it he nodded. She turned back to Pearsall and spoke softly, "Clint, you know me… you can call me Clarice."

Pearsall smiled, "Okay, thanks Clarice."

Clarice smiled, "I'll let you two men talk then."

Clarice wagged a finger at Hannibal, "You just behave yourself, H."

"Of course, as you wish my Love."

Clarice smiled and left the two men alone.

As the door closed, Hannibal leaned over his folded hands and studied Pearsall closely. Amused at the level of fear he breathed deeply and ingested the anxiety. Hannibal smiled to himself swearing that, upon the closing of the door, he could actually detect the moment that terror gripped causing Pearsall's sphincter to tighten.

Let's see what you have behind those eyes, Clint. Are you a brave man or a fearful man?

Pearsall's breath held as he shifted his attention from the closed door to the monster he was trapped with. Hannibal was Danger. Pearsall was Fear. Anxiety and Anger too collided across the table like the gnarled racks of rams crashing against one another.

Hannibal stood and moved toward Pearsall, his head low as he stalked across the room.

Pearsall sat like the Sphinx staring forward, watching as Hannibal approached. He hoped to leave the room with Hannibal's agreement.

He prayed to leave the room with his life. Pearsall's heart raced because he knew something Hannibal Lecter knew all too well. Prayers are rarely answered.

Thanks for sticking with the story! Review and let me know what you think then PM and say Hi!

Until the next chapter my friends

LH