PERFECTION

The photo Clarice chose, along with the birth announcement and details of the companion documentary, was published in virtually every newspaper, periodical and news service with the exception of the Tattler, expressly denied permission. This appealed to Clarice's sense of fair play and Hannibal's provisionally tempered vengeance. The Tattler's editors endangered their family by offering the bounty for the photograph and as such there was no way either Hannibal or Clarice would see them benefit. Clarice would have died before she let that happen. Hannibal would have killed for less.

Hannibal, never an early riser, was struggling to adjust his sleep schedule as any new father would. The agreement had been made between the couple that because Clarice had chosen thus far not to pump her breast milk, making it impossible for Hannibal to feed their son, he would be responsible for taking the baby from his crib and bringing him to Clarice. Once the baby was brought to Clarice for the morning feeding the exhausted dad went to the kitchen to prepare the breakfast buffet for the crew.

He was not surprised that he was allowed to work quietly with minimal interaction or interruption from the production staff. After all, they were waiting for their meal and any disruptions would delay the repast.

While nothing was particularly out of place this morning seemed just a bit off, alerting Hannibal's rapacious suspicion. Most would not have noticed the very slight dissimilarity, the inconsequential variation in the behavior of the crew. Though it was all but imperceptible, the deviation screamed for Hannibal's attention.

There is a definite change in their scent and demeanor. Though they have been cautious in my presence, there is worry. Something has happened.

Not perceiving an obvious accelerant and responding as well to his lack of uninterrupted sleep he was unsettled by the shift. Hannibal's predatory gifts were now focused intently as he set about watching the movements and interactions surrounding him to determine what potential grounds might explain the variant.

All is well with Clarice and young Hannibal therefore, something else is amiss as they are concerned and seem to be awaiting a reaction. They are expecting negativity or I would perceive anticipation, rather than dread. The photo would have been published overnight; the coverage may be the key.

Realizing the paper would contain the family portrait Hannibal turned his attention to the possibility of deception or misdirection and therefore sought to expedite the food preparation. He quickly set up the chafing dishes, squeezed fresh orange juice and prepared the coffee.

Bile rising, Hannibal swallowed hard, choking back his body's reaction to his own exhaustion and the adverse sensory output so clearly emanating from those surrounding him.

With the scent of collective fear turning my stomach I am forced to wonder whether or not this level of communal anxiety reflects a pre-meditated breach of trust. If so, the person who made this decision will wish they had never been born.

After setting up the food, the disconcerted doctor walked toward the front door to retrieve the periodical he believed to be key to the disturbance.

Clarice remains on the second floor or I would sense her presence. What is causing her to delay?

There was a palpable sense of anxiety as well as a healthy dose of fear the moment everyone perceived he was retrieving the paper. He passed the producer and stopped, turning in his tracks to face her.

"My wife has not yet come down for breakfast. Do you know of any reason she might be delayed?"

The producer was tense, responding cautiously, "I don't really know, but I can find out for you, Doctor."

The woman mumbled into the microphone attached to her headset, paused and returned, "Your wife is in the baby's room being interviewed. They just started so she'll be a while."

Hannibal stood surprisingly still considering his inner tumult; the only evidence a slight clenching of his jaw. He pulled himself together and responded politely, "Thank you, if you'll excuse me, I'll see about the morning paper."

As Hannibal crossed the foyer his eyes shifted subtly. Measuring the staff in his periphery, he noticed their attentions pique as he moved toward the door.

I'm getting warmer I see. You are watching me as closely as I am watching you, my friends…to what end I wonder? No matter. By the sudden escalation of catecholamine I'm certain to find out momentarily. What will it be my friends, fight or flight?

The moment he placed his hand on the doorknob, there was a smattering of whispers and a scattering of workers.

Ah…Flight I see. I am getting warmer then? You are surveying my reaction to what? The news? No. The family photo, perhaps? What about a pre-approved image could cause such obvious stress? Unless the image has been altered in some manner. Such subversive behavior might elicit this level of anxiety. It might also provoke my immediate and equally opposing action. Well, that would explain the flight response.

Opening the door, he immediately drew in a sustained breath. The spring air was crisp. The damp soil musty, warming in the morning sun. Enjoying the brief respite he exhaled slowly, then bent to the newspaper tucked neatly within the door.

Okie-Dokie…let's see what all the fuss is about.

Unfolding the paper the image was blatant, taking up the entire front page aside from the headline: LOVING HANNIBAL!

The instant Hannibal saw the front page of the paper there was an emerging understanding. Seeing the image his heart skipped a beat, though on the exterior his demeanor remained unaltered. He quickly gathered his emotions as he straightened his body, tucking the paper under his arm careful not to damage the image.

Hannibal hadn't been told the photo had been changed and was unsure whether or not Clarice had approved the new image. This caused a flood of questions as his mind churned with scenarios weighing the potential responses he might have to each.

Are you aware of the change, Clarice, or has someone taken advantage of this situation? The decision must have been made quite late last evening as I slept.

Contemplating the possibility Clarice might have some knowledge of the situation as she had remained awake to feed the baby, Hannibal spun quickly and faced the producer now standing panic stricken in the foyer. The fiery particles of crimson flying from the center of his eyes flashed his displeasure, though Hannibal's expression remained unchanged.

Questioning the producer more to affirm his redress of the developments than his need of information Hannibal pursued, "My wife is in my son's room, you said?"

Choking on the breath she had no memory of taking, the terrified producer responded, "Yes, Doctor Lecter."

If you are unaware, Clarice, my ferocity will know no bounds.

Hannibal wouldn't disrespect Clarice by responding without first confirming with her the details of the amended choice. He had given her the expressed authority to make the decision and though he believed he had been clear about the photograph, he was sleeping when this decision had been made.

Before reacting, Hannibal needed more information so, with the paper forced tightly against his body he moved quickly up the stairs to find his wife. He caught her scent at the top of the stairs, confirming she remained in their son's room.

Devyni is not with you, Clarice? Better the child is asleep in the event your response begs my intervention.

Stepping into the room quietly he waited as Clarice was being interviewed. The moment the dialogue ceased, he stepped forward knowing by the conduct of those in the room the director had been forewarned.

Dismissing the presence of the director and the crew Hannibal addressed his wife.

"Clarice? May I see you for a moment?"

Clarice spotted the paper now in his hand. She spoke with barely contained enthusiasm, "Sure, H…We're done here. Is that today's paper?"

Hannibal slapped the folded paper against his palm as he offered, "Yes…yes it is. That is what I've come to discuss."

Excited to see her choice enlarged, Clarice unintentionally dismissed her husband's concern as she clamored, "Is the photo there? Have you seen it? Is it as gorgeous as it looked in the little monitor?"

Tightly bridled restraint barely containing his fury he indirectly alerted her to his concern as he revealed subtly, "That would depend. To which photograph are you referring?"

Clarice reached for the paper without acknowledging his question. She hadn't realized she neglected to tell him of the change and didn't understand his dismay.

"C'mon, stop teasing me, H. I really want to see that picture!"

Hannibal withdrew the newspaper and cautioned, "Clarice…"

Looking into his eyes and recognizing he was distressed she pulled back and regrouped, "Sorry, H, I don't mean to keep interrupting…you go ahead. Tell me what's wrong."

He sought clarification as he stated, "The image featured in today's paper isn't the photo I recall you approving."

Suddenly realizing she neglected to tell him of the change she immediately expressed her regret.

"No, it's not. I'm sorry H…that was taken late last night after you fell asleep and since you've been up and down so much with Little H, I didn't want to wake you. You said the choice was mine. Can I at least see it?"

Hannibal held the paper up to his wife as the crew looked on nervously.

Clarice smiled widely.

"To be honest, I was a little worried but I've gotta tell you seeing how awesome we look, I don't regret it at all."

Realizing Clarice was involved with the decision he confirmed as he tucked it back under his arm, "You were aware of and approved the change?"

"Yeah, when I saw that image…it's just…it's Us. Why? Are you mad at me for changing it?"

Hannibal's head angled just slightly he responded partially, "Not as such."

Clarice reached to her husband, gently brushing the arm tightly gripping the paper against him. She urged, "What the hell kind of answer is that? Not as such what, H?"

Obviously intensely uncomfortable in the presence of the cameras, Hannibal's voice lowered, his eyes darkening as he spoke the true origin of his unease, "In the photo, your breasts are exposed."

Incredulous, Clarice reached for the paper and attempted to tug it from beneath her husband's unrelenting arm.

"What? Come on, H…stop screwing around and let me see that."

Hannibal reached under his arm, unfurled the paper and held it, photo faced toward his wife careful to angle it away from the camera.

Clarice squinted as she leaned forward, looked at it and slapped him playfully.

"No it's not! You made me think I flashed a nipple or something. H…I'm breastfeeding our son for Christ's sake. What's a little side-boob anyway? The baby is latched on my right breast and your hand is partially covering the left. I'm feeding our baby and you're holding me…God, H…It's a gorgeous picture!"

Hannibal set the newspaper on the baby's changing table.

"I didn't say it wasn't attractive, Clarice and I made no judgment as to whether or not it was an accurate representation of our relationship as it is indeed both. I was simply inquiring whether or not you were aware of the change. As you approved the image, nothing more need be said."

Hannibal turned to leave the room and not knowing from his demeanor whether or not he was angry, Clarice grabbed his arm and tugged at him gently.

"H…please, H…Turn around. Look at me, H…"

Hannibal stopped, but didn't turn immediately. Instead, he stood deadly still, his head lowered.

"Hannibal…Don't do this. Don't turn away from me."

Hannibal...not H...

Hannibal released a long exhalation. Clarice wanted his attention. His shoulders lowered, though he stood his ground. The emotion she demanded was difficult enough for him to express in the most private situation. Here, publicly as the camera captured the moment, he was hesitant.

The director placed her hand on the forearm of the cameraperson and both took several steps back for the sake of their mutual self-preservation, clearly wary of his response.

The crew present held their collective breath believing from Hannibal's tense body language and past history of violence and volatility, an emotional explosion would soon occur. The more still Hannibal became the more terrified they were to be in the room.

Clarice, still holding her husband's arm, moved behind him and wrapped her arms around him. She rested her cheek between his shoulders. She could feel his body shudder, attempting to rein in his upset.

"You didn't answer me, H. I'll endure your anger but I won't be ignored. Are you mad at me for changing that photo?"

Was he really distressed by the change? Hannibal considered the question. How could he be upset or angry with his wife? After all he did give her full authority. He could hardly be angry with her for exercising that which he empowered. Not to mention, the photo was attractive. Exceedingly so, but it was also very intimate. The moment captured intensely personal, showing a vulnerability he was not certain he was comfortable illustrating. It said so much about them without a word. It spoke volumes of their love and their comfort with one another. He wasn't angry. He was troubled.

"Clarice…"

Clarice turned him into her arms as the camera rolled.

"It's okay, I understand. You didn't want to share me, did you, H?"

Still brooding, he hung his head and spoke softly, "No, my Love."

Hannibal pulled her close, his eyes shifting for a moment in the direction of the camera, stopping short of making contact with the lens. He tipped his head toward his wife and trailed his nose along her neck, inhaling her scent as he gently traced tiny figure-eights with his fingertips on the small of her back. In her arms, slowly he settled.

Clarice held him close, sensing his need and gently affirmed, "Don't worry H, you'll have me to yourself soon enough."

He brushed his cheek against hers and whispered in his wife's ear, his voice rich with want, "Not soon enough for me, my Love."

Clarice smiled and whispered in return, "Okay, Stud…Meet me in our bathroom in ten minutes. No cameras."

Hannibal kissed his wife on the cheek, "I'll be in the shower, should you need me, Clarice." He turned to the crew, "If anyone is interested, breakfast is served."

The moment Hannibal left the room the crew relaxed visibly, the director speaking first, "Oh my God, he has to be the single most intense man on the face of this earth. For a minute, I was terrified."

Clarice smiled, "He is intense but that's one of the things I love the most about him. There's not another man like him; he's absolutely without equal. Well, I'm going to check the baby and Hannibal's going to shower so we'll be out of commission for a while."

"Out of commission?"

Clarice smiled, "Yeah…" she removed the small microphone attached to her blouse and handed it to the director reiterating, "…out of commission...incommunicado so take my advice and stay off this floor for a while because he'll know it if you don't and unless you want my husband going homicidal, you'll give us a little privacy. Go downstairs, stay downstairs and enjoy your breakfast, ladies and gentleman. When the baby's awake and my husband is calm, we'll come downstairs."

The director agreed, "No worries, Clarice. We'll stay downstairs until you both come down. Enjoy some time with Hannibal."

When Clarice entered the bedroom, Hannibal was in the shower. She stood over the baby's bassinet and watched him sleep. It had been an hour, maybe a little longer since his last feeding. It wouldn't be long before he grew hungry again. Clarice, having showered earlier, locked the bedroom door and opened the bathroom door. Hannibal was stepping out of the shower. Not realizing the cameras were not in the bedroom, he quickly reached for his robe.

"Clarice, mind you close the door. We've shared enough with the general population thus far. I'd like to maintain an air of dignity if you don't mind."

Clarice laughed, "Relax, Big Man, I got rid of the cameras. Come on. We don't have long before the baby wakes up."

Clarice walked into the bedroom and sat on the bed. Hannibal stepped out of the bathroom and looked around their bedroom surprised the cameras were gone.

Careful to speak softly so as not to wake the baby, Hannibal whispered, "Clarice? I thought the bathrooms were the only spaces the cameras were banned."

"H…they're making a fortune from this. They'll do whatever we ask. You obviously needed some privacy."

Hannibal approached the bed and sat beside his wife, resting a hand on her knee.

Putting his arms around his wife, he began to kiss her neck, teasing tiny bites as he spoke. "I need…more than…privacy, Clarice. When…will this be…over?"

"Today's the last full day, H. All the equipment leaves tomorrow at noon, they'll be editing the footage the rest of the day, and we'll approve the final cut before it airs tomorrow night."

Hannibal smoothed his hands over his wife, opening her blouse as he continued to place kisses over her body. Reaching around her back beneath her shirt he unhooked her bra and began to kiss her breasts.

Clarice ran her hands through her husband's hair, sweeping the damp tresses from his forehead as his mouth closed over her.

Hannibal traced his tongue across the tightening flesh drawing her nipple into his mouth.

She whispered as he attended to her gently, "Don't worry, H, we'll get back to normal soon."

Hannibal released her breast for a moment, guiding her onto her back as he placed a pillow beneath her head. Taking his place beside her, Hannibal traced his hand across her cheek.

"Our child is born, Clarice. There will be a new normal, now."

Needing physical closeness, Hannibal pulled his wife against his body as she reached into his robe, caressing him. Concentrating on his breathing, he lowered his head resting his forehead on her shoulder, kissing her body.

"Clarice…"

"Relax, H…we don't have long the baby will wake up soon…just let it happen."

Gripping firmly she encouraged his body to respond. Hannibal moved his hands under her skirt, aggressively pushing the fabric up her thighs, gripping the muscles of her bottom as he pulled her close. Forgetting the baby, he groaned, "Mmmm, Clarice…Clarice…"

Whispering, she reminded him, "Shh…H…the baby…shh…quietly."

Seeking to enflame his passion, Clarice arched her back, baring her breasts to him.

Nostrils flaring to gather the scent, his mouth watered fueling his appetite for her body. Hannibal lunged, capturing her breast, teasing the peak with his tongue sucking gently, tasting her.

His tone lustful he growled, "How I've missed you, Clarice."

Teasing his ear with her teeth, sucking gently at the lobe she whispered, "I'm here, H...I'll always be here."

Exhilarated not only by the contact but the sound of her voice in his ear, he clutched at her shoulders teetering on the edges of his ecstasy. Encouraged, Clarice bowed low, closing her lips around his body.

Attempting to answer, Hannibal gasped, "I know…Clarice…oh, god…I…know…"

As the shudders of ecstasy slowly gripped Hannibal's body, his breathing altered.

Every muscle tensed as his breathing quickened. Hannibal's hips rolled slowly as the burning in his belly spread throughout his body. Muscles tightening, he doubled over cradling his wife gently, and whispered, "My Love…oh…my Love…"

Clarice held her husband very tenderly until the pulsing ceased and his breathing returned to normal. Now sated, Hannibal gathered her in his arms and held her close. Within moments, the baby began to stir. Hannibal kissed his wife.

"It would seem you have another man seeking your breast and starving for your attention, Clarice."

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

"Heaven forbid, my Love."

Hannibal stood, retrieved the baby and delivered the hungry baby into the arms of his mother. Clarice held her son to her breast and began to feed him. Hannibal cradled his wife once again in his arms. This time, instead of falling asleep, he watched mother lovingly nurse her child. Lifting her chin to him gently, he kissed his wife and spoke tenderly.

"Clarice?"

"H?"

"The photograph?"

"Yeah?"

"It is an ideal representation of our family, Clarice. It is all that our lives together will always be. Like you, my Love…it is perfection."

Clarice, pleased Hannibal agreed, settled against his body, content. Soon the cameras would be gone and their true lives together would begin. Life with Hannibal, their child safe in their arms was as close to perfection as Clarice could imagine.

Hannibal opened the door marked Family within his mind and reverently placed the memory of this moment within. No longer did family represent loss or death or revenge or rage. Family was now Hannibal, Clarice and Devyni and for Hannibal Lecter…that truly was Perfection.

Until the next chapter my friends!

LH