BLOOM'S DILEMMA

Hannibal was resting in his cell contemplating the upcoming day. It was early, just after dawn. The staff that was assigned to assist with the Bashandi meeting had been informed not to report for duty before ten o'clock. No one expected Hannibal to be removed from his cell before the meeting as Bloom was not expected that morning. That didn't stop Bloom from coming.

Bloom was invited to the White House for an eleven o'clock meeting. A car would be sent an hour before the meeting so Bloom woke early so that he would be able to get to the prison and back in time to be picked up. There was a very important problem. How to get the Harpy into the prison? Bloom needed to get Hannibal alone, certain Hannibal would know what to do.

When the forensic psychologist arrived at the prison just after sunrise, the officers at the entry phoned the warden's office obviously questioning his intention. The warden hurried to meet him and was out of breath from running. He wanted to get to Bloom before Bloom got to Hannibal.

"I was informed you had a special meeting at the White House this morning, Doctor. To what do we owe this surprise visit? Do you need to gather some paperwork or files for your meeting?"

"No. I intend to interview Doctor Lecter before my meeting."

"I was told Doctor Lecter would not be leaving his cell this morning. The guards he's become accustomed to will not be reporting for several hours. If you wish I can remove him from his cell personally but that presents me with a very unstable and possibly dangerous situation."

Bloom watched the guards sort through his medical bag as he passed through the security checkpoint. "I don't know what would be so dangerous. Everyone seems convinced he's harmless, so if he's harmless, there shouldn't be any increased risk."

"What do you intend to do with Hannibal?" the warden questioned. "If I know where you are bringing him and why, I can plan what his security needs are."

"His security needs or my security needs?" Bloom asked sarcastically.

"Of course my concern's for your security as well, Doctor Bloom."

"I'm glad to hear that Warden. I will be waiting in the interview room. Please have the guards bring him to me as soon as possible. No cameras. I need him alone today."

The warden nodded and turned quickly to head for Hannibal's cell.

When the warden arrived, Hannibal appeared asleep on his bunk. He was resting on his left side in order to keep his back to the camera as he slept.

"Doctor Lecter, forgive my waking you however Doctor Bloom's arrived and he wants me to bring you to him in the interview room. He's waiting there now and I'm not certain he has your best interest in mind."

Hannibal rolled onto his back but remained fully reclined on his bunk, not even turning his head as he spoke. Because of his supine position his voice was low in the room and floated eerily across the darkened cell much like a fog rolls across the water.

"Why is it I wonder, after all you have witnessed, you actually believe your statement might be in some way a revelation?"

The warden was actually a bit ashamed and his tone of voice reflected it, "I don't agree with the way you've been treated Doctor Lecter. If there was something I could have done…"

Hannibal flipped over and sat up so quickly it caused the warden to jump back from the glass surprised and frightened by the almost unnatural speed of movement.

Hannibal was amused by the response and paused for a moment to enjoy the man's fear. He then commented quietly, "I was not suggesting you should or could have changed my circumstances, Warden. I am aware this situation was no more within your control, than it was within mine."

The warden looked down at the ground and dragged his right foot along the cement. "I've got to bring you to him, Doctor. I'm sorry. Could you approach the port to cuff up?"

Hannibal stood. "Of course, Warden, I am only too happy to again offer myself to Doctor Bloom for whatever depraved treatment he has spent the evening conjuring."

The warden had no response. He cuffed Hannibal, attached the chain to allow him to open the door, and waited for Hannibal to exit the cell.

"What time is it?" Hannibal asked, "I am certain it is not much later than seven o'clock judging by the staff on shift and the play of light through the windows."

"It's six forty-five."

"Starting a bit early aren't we? This will make for an extremely long day I would think. Please tell me I will not be in Doctor Bloom's company the whole of the day. I am a strong man, but I am not a young man. There are limits to my endurance."

"No, the Bashandi's have confirmed. They will be arriving by noon. Your wife and Mr. Pearsall will be accompanying them."

"I would assume Doctor Bloom will not be present at the meeting."

"No, the White House has requested a meeting with him. He'll be there all afternoon."

They arrived at the interview room. The warden opened the door led Hannibal in and secured his cuffs to the chair. He spoke softly, "I'll be just outside that door. If he does anything to harm you, call out and I'll come right in."

Hannibal settled against the chair shifting to find a position that might make the handcuffs comfortable.

"You have seen my interactions with Doctor Bloom, yes?"

"Yes."

"Have you heard me call out?"

"No. I haven't."

"And you will not here me call out this time, either. Whatever he is to do, he will do. I will accept the treatment without complaint."

The warden nodded and turned to Bloom, "He'd better come out of this room in the same condition he entered."

"Your posturing isn't necessary, Warden. I'm only going to ask Doctor Lecter a couple of questions. You can have him back in a few minutes."

Bloom watched the door close. When he was certain they were alone he leaned over to Hannibal and spoke very quietly, "Our time together is coming to a close, Hannibal. I only have one question for you before I leave for my meeting with the White House."

"What question is that, Alan?"

"I know you brought your Harpy in with you. It's on your property list but you might not be allowed to access it. I would provide my blade for your death, but I go through the metal detector every time I enter the prison. As we will need the backup, how do I get mine in the building?"

"It is a problem certainly, but not insurmountable by any means," Hannibal considered the situation. "How do they search your medical bag? Do they search it by hand or does it pass through an x-ray?"

"The officers hand search it."

Believing he had a solution, Hannibal continued, "The guards follow the same procedure each and every time?"

Bloom nodded excitedly, "Yes…each and every time."

"The solution is simple Alan. It will only require the lifting of some Velcro and a moment's time. I'm quite certain you will have no difficulties."

"You're sure?"

"Trust, Alan…trust."

HANNIBAL'S GIFT

Clarice spent most of the morning readying the home for the arrival of her guests feeling confident and more than prepared. She hoped Hannibal was equally prepared for the meeting though from the impression gathered after viewing the tape, he wasn't only prepared he waited with rapt anticipation.

I don't know how you can stand it, H. If I were locked up a day, I'd be going bat shit insane. How does that mind of yours work? How do you live within yourself so well?

Moving throughout the rooms she was grateful that Hannibal was so meticulous. The home was designed perfectly for entertaining guests and it was so well kept, it required little effort on Clarice's part to prepare for the Bashandi's.

Well, at least there's plenty of room and everyone can maintain their privacy.

Hannibal enjoyed luxury and added the master suite soon after purchasing the home. The original master would be perfectly suited to the Bashandi's as it was very large with soaring ceilings and it had a very private, newly updated master bath attached.

The second guest room was a large, bright room with neutral tones and a small balcony overlooking the backyard. Clarice had chosen the smaller bedroom for the nursery because it was closer to the master suite.

She also believed that giving Hannibal's son a bedroom with a balcony might be a future invitation to disaster. If he turned out to be anything like his father the boy would have little fear and his impulse control might need to be closely monitored.

No, the room with the balcony would be reserved for their daughter, if they were so blessed. As such, it would be perfect for Mariyah.

Each of the guest rooms had a small refrigerator and microwave built into custom cabinetry within the ample walk in closets. Clarice had contacted Mariyah for a list of favored snacks and drinks in order to fully stock the rooms. The bathrooms were already filled with baskets of soaps, lotions and high end toiletries. Clarice even thought to move two large wicker chairs onto the balcony so that Mariyah could use Hannibal's telescope if it were a clear night. Certain that everything was in place she would now prepare herself for the busy afternoon.

Clarice showered, put on her favorite bathrobe and slippers and shuffled apprehensively from the bathroom into the master suite to her closet. She was not looking forward to the meeting. Even though she was certain Hannibal had considered every contingency Clarice worried.

I don't know, H. What if you forgot something? What if you missed something?

Pushing through a few of her clothing options without much excitement her lack of inspiration reinforced her feeling that she wasn't particularly attractive due to her blossoming figure. She couldn't fathom what she should wear. She laughed at the awkward nature of the day's topic.

What the hell does a person wear to a meeting where her husband's sanity will be the main topic of conversation?

Clarice smiled at her self-deprecation. She was about to give up and put on her maternity standby: a simple black dress she purchased on an outing with Ardelia. Disappointed with her options she reached for the standby only to notice a garment bag zip-tied flush with the dress's hanger. Hannibal obviously knew she would choose this dress and had already prepared another choice.

You are such a wise ass, H. How did you know I would reach for that dress?

Clarice opened the bag to reveal a deep eggplant colored dress with an empire waist, a black satin sash and a delicate bow gathered on the small of the back. The dress fell just above the knee and was absolutely elegant and very classic. A perfect strand of pearls had been carefully draped over the hanger. Clarice smiled widely.

Still picking my clothing out for me, H? Not that I'm complaining. I love pearls.

Clarice noticed a small plastic bag attached to the hanger with lovely drop pearl earrings and a note inside. She dipped the tip of her nose within the bag, breathed and smiled. His cologne was still heavy on the letter. Clarice inhaled deeply, this time a look of disappointment crossed her face. She wished for Hannibal's gift. Not his gift of the dress or the pearls. She longed for his sense of smell that she might call to her not his cologne, but his personal scent: that which made him Hannibal.

I can only detect it when your flesh is on me. I miss your body, H. I miss your breath. I miss the smell of you, the weight of you…your voice whispering in my ear instead of echoing in my mind.

She forced herself away from the scent to remove the note. What do you have to say to me? What did you already know that I could never predict. That no one would have ever predicted.

Clarice unfolded the paper and began to read, her eyes welling slightly at the sight of his handwriting.

There was a time I longed for your letters, H. Now, they only mean that you're away from me…now, I have too many letters.

Clarice sat on the edge of the bed. Holding the letter firmly with both hands she trembled as she read:

Dear Clarice,

Forgive what you must perceive as another of my attempts to dress you. I realize that your taste is impeccable but as you will see, there is a method to my madness, so to speak.

There will no doubt be a meeting to discuss my case when my treatment is made public. Please indulge me and wear this to said meeting. On the shelf above, you will find matching shoes and a bag suitable to your needs.

The choices were not made to suggest you would need my assistance. Rather, it is my way of caring for you. Knowing this would be a stressful time and believing you would put my needs above your own, I wanted to ease your mind by providing these gifts. You are truly God's masterpiece, Clarice. It is my desire that you feel as lovely and confident on the outside as you truly are on the inside.

My Love, if you would be so kind as to please bring the garment bag in my closet along with you so that I may present myself to the public wearing something more dignified than the Department of Corrections can provide. I am attempting to take advantage of what I perceive will be a shift in my public persona. I will appear much less threatening in Armani than in prison blues.

This image combined with your presence by my side will present a unified appearance. It will be a visual representation of our love, dedication and commitment to one another.

Your strength in this matter has, I have no doubt, been impressive as always and I am certain that I remain in absolute awe of you. Know that when I am alone I contemplate our lives together and though I do not understand the reasons for your love, I am humbled by it and happy to accept that which I do not deserve.

I love you very much, Clarice and though these words of endearment are a poor substitute for my presence, we must both try to make due. This ordeal will soon be over and we will be a family once again. Until that time know that I remain,

Ever yours,

H

Clarice walked to her bureau, again breathed the scent of his cologne from the note and placed it in a drawer to put with her collection later. She then placed the dress on her bed and moved to Hannibal's closet.

Okay, let's see what you've got me dragging down to that god-awful prison.

She opened his closet and took out the garment bag prominently displayed among the neat row of suits and shirts. Placing the bag beside her own outfit she pulled down the zipper to reveal a deep black suit, crisp white shirt with French cuffs, platinum and pearl cuff links and a deep eggplant colored tie that exactly matched the hue of her dress. A single pearl on a platinum tack secured the tie and a paisley silk was tucked with a flourish into the breast pocket.

Clarice laughed aloud at Hannibal's habit of exactly matching their clothing, this time down to the jewelry, as a very personal and very distinct means of identifying them as a couple.

Forever marking your territory aren't you, H. That's okay. I want them to know you're mine as well.

The remainder of her time was spent dressing, fixing her makeup and her styling her hair. Hannibal had given a great deal of thought to the dress and all of the accessories. He went to a lot of trouble to make it very obvious they were a couple, so proud was he to have her by his side. Clarice understood that Hannibal wanted her to be equally proud to be in his company. She wanted to honor him as her husband and would be certain to look her best for him.

Pearsall arrived with the car an hour before the Bashandi's plane would land. He went to the door, waited for Clarice to set the alarm and escorted her to the limo.

"Thanks for picking me up, Clint."

Pearsall extended his hand and steadied Clarice as she entered the car. One hand was on the roof of the car and the other on the open door as he leaned in and spoke softly so as not to be overheard by the driver.

"I should be thanking you, Clarice. You're really saving my ass. The president is really embarrassed about this Bashandi situation. That idiot Bloom was only directed to test Hannibal and he was supposed to keep it quiet. This was never supposed to be about Chilton or personal vendettas or anything like that. Bloom has taken this to another level and his use of the court system hog-tied the administration. This turned into something no one expected."

"Hannibal expected it."

Pearsall held up a hand directing Clarice to hold her thought. He hurried around the car, waited for oncoming traffic to pass and entered quickly.

After so many years with the FBI Pearsall was not a trusting man. He again leaned in so as not to be overheard, "What do you mean?"

Clarice followed his lead and tilted her head toward him certain to keep her voice low, "Bloom has always been jealous of the attention Hannibal's received. He and Chilton treated H pretty badly when he was at Baltimore State Forensic."

"Bloom was never at Baltimore State."

"Not officially, but because the FBI used him as a consultant he conferred with Chilton and developed a lot of the treatment protocols and restraint procedures. A lot of the discomfort of Hannibal's incarceration he blames on Bloom.

"Do you think Hannibal killed Chilton?"

"Yes."

"Did he ever talk about it?"

"No."

"Why? He doesn't want you to remember what he's done?"

"Why would you say that?"

"I thought he might try to avoid reminding you…" Pearsall paused.

"Never forget what he is…

Clarice encouraged him to continue, wanting this all out in the open. "Let's just put it all out there, Clint. You thought he might try to avoid reminding me of what?"

"Maybe he might not want to remind you of the fact that he's a killer and a cannibal."

"Hey, I've killed plenty of people too, Clint. I just didn't eat them."

"Yeah that's true but you had a badge and they deserved it."

Clarice made certain make eye contact with Pearsall. She wanted to make herself perfectly understood.

"Hannibal believes the people he killed deserved it as well. Who the hell am I to judge him? What difference did that badge make to the people I killed? Dead is dead, Clint."

"You didn't eat them."

"So what if he did eat them? That doesn't offend me. I'm not that sentimental or delicate. We're all part of the food chain so once you're dead…you're just meat to something else. Hannibal's just the top of the chain. For me, he's agreed to restrict his diet. That's all I can ask of him."

Pearsall shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know…I just thought he might be ashamed of it, that's all. You know…remorseful."

Clarice clutched at the handbag her husband purchased to her chest and imagined she was holding him.

Her voice was not soft nor did it reflect any hint of shame or recrimination in her husband's actions.

"He's has no remorse for any of the things he's done. He feels perfectly justified or he would not have done them and if I wanted to talk to him about his crimes he would absolutely tell me every single detail. We have no secrets or hidden agendas. We love each other, Clint. I accept him for who he is and does the same for me. That's enough for us."

Shifting in his seat and angling his body to face Clarice, Pearsall became much more animated, "I tell you, Clarice, even I can see it. He's really different now. You've changed him."

She shook her head, "No I haven't…I couldn't. No one could. He's exactly the same man he was before he met me and I swear I'd slit my wrists before I would change him. I am just attempting to help him transition."

"Transition?"

"He's learning to live in a world where people know about him and are frightened of him. It's got to be pretty daunting at times."

"Well, he doesn't kill people anymore. That's different."

"He's killed recently. You know that."

"Yeah…well, Bloom's lucky Hannibal has you or that Harpy of his would have found a new jugular to slit."

"Yeah, Bloom's lucky all right."

Clarice smiled inwardly and wondered just how long it would be before Bloom's stupidity caught up to him. Not that she cared. Bloom was a threat to her family and there was no way Hannibal would allow anyone to threaten his family.

It was now almost noon. Bloom was on the way to the White House. The Bashandi's, Clarice and Pearsall were now in the car and heading for the prison and Hannibal, having directed each of the players to their positions and having set up all the rules of play, sat back fully entertained as Bloom's end game began.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Review and let me know what you think, then PM and say Hi!

Until the next chapter my friends!

LH