RATINGS GOLD

Hannibal cleared the crew's buffet, washed the dishes, stored all of the items in their respective places and though he had run out of ways to entertain himself, still, his wife had not come down. He understood Clarice needed to tend to the baby however being alone while the cameras rolled was proving to be not only irritating and claustrophobic but was giving Hannibal the feeling of being hemmed in. He wanted nothing more in the world than to be alone with Clarice and his baby; Hannibal longed for the compound in Argentina.

I fulfilled my promise to you Clarice; you have given birth among friends. Soon this chapter of our lives will come to an end and we will begin our lives anew without the watchful eyes of the world following our every move.

Pacing for a few moments in front of the large window in the kitchen, Hannibal's eyes shifted, taking in the surroundings. Catching his reflection it dawned that he might appear nervous, like an animal pacing before the bars of a cage. Seeking stillness, he sat at that breakfast island smoothing his hands over the cool stone surface as he waited for Clarice so they might enjoy their breakfast together.

The tactile sensations of the cool stone initiated memories within Hannibal prompting a brief visit to the Uffizi. He closed his eyes and listening to the activity surrounding, simultaneously strolled to the second floor seeking room forty-two, the Niobe Room. Captivated by the movements generated by the statues ringing the room Hannibal could feel his shoes striking the richly tiled floor as, within his memory palace, he surveyed the surroundings. He thought if Clarice were delayed further, he might view the work of Rubens…No. The work of Caravaggio was more to his taste this day. He moved to view The Sacrifice of Isaac. The father, Abraham was represented as a much older paternal figure much like Hannibal while nearby, a sacrificial ram beside the boy reminded him of Clarice's lamb. The iconography, now that he was a father, took on new meaning.

If it were the Almighty asked for the life of young Hannibal I would deny that ransom martyring myself in the boy's stead to fulfill God's bloodlust, but never my child…never my son. Abraham was a fool.

Aware of everything around him, especially within his own home, Hannibal considered the image as he listened to the conversation the producer and director were having one room over. He caught the scent of the boom operator and assessed the man's need to reapply his antiperspirant even as he smelled the aftershave of the camera operator assigned to film him, now standing just over the good doctor's left shoulder.

The proximity and angle of this particular man was troubling as he was just beyond Hannibal's periphery causing Lecter, by force of habit, to quickly assess the distance and his ability to strike out at the man if need be. Though he knew there was no need, for assurance, he reached within his cuff and felt for the Harpy, confirming its placement and ease of accessibility.

Six feet…one broad step, lunge…an extension of my arm to reach him and in a split second I could dispatch the tasteless oaf. One would think I was in the company of Will Graham. Do men not evolve beyond the tastes of their fathers? Rest assured, my son will exceed me.

Hannibal inhaled and winced at the sensory input.

What atrocious aftershave. Has a little ship on the bottle, does it not?

Lifting his head he searched the air allowing the corporeal input to shift. Suddenly, a flash of recognition and obvious joy illuminated within his unique eyes, the peaceful glow prominent and warm. Hannibal inhaled once more and purged the stench of the man's inexpensive and by Hannibal's standards, cut-rate cologne, replacing it with something far more to his taste...Tennessee lavender and fleece.

Clariiice…

Forgoing the Uffizi, Hannibal stood quickly, and stepped to the side resting his hand on the back of the deeply carved, richly upholstered bar stool circling his left thumb within the scroll of the chair's molding.

Seeing the purposeful movements but not understanding the impetus, the boom operator turned his head and raised his eyebrows at the cameraman.

What the hell? Why did he jump up?

Both men observed with silent surprise Hannibal's expectation. It was plain he stood for a purpose, waiting for something to happen that neither man perceived. The cameraman shook his head and shrugged his shoulders at the boom operator; both individuals obviously questioned the reason for Hannibal's sudden movements and blatant anticipation.

Perceiving their angst, Hannibal was amused. Cortisol levels rising. Are you stressed by my movement gentlemen?

The crewmembers were shocked when Clarice, without a sound to alert, arrived in the kitchen. The men had heard Hannibal could detect a person's whereabouts without benefit of sight or sound but were stunned by the clear demonstration of that prowess. He had obviously detected her approach and prepared for her arrival long before she joined him in the kitchen.

Hannibal was surprised as well. Not by her arrival but by his body's response to her approach. Placing his right hand on his chest he centered his palm to test the flutter as he allowed his body to involuntarily respond to the stimulus of his love's approach.

An increase in serum luteinizing hormones…corresponding decreases in cortisol and prolactin additionally with testosterone levels rising as well. My, Clarice, how the mere scent of you moves me.

The moment Clarice entered with camera and crew in tow she flipped on the baby monitor to link this room to the baby sleeping peacefully.

"Hey, H. Baby's asleep."

Gently settling his hands for a moment on the curve of her hips he kissed her briefly, and spoke, "You are a comfort to our son, and his father as well. Please, relax while you are able and allow me to serve our breakfast."

Drawing a stool back and assisting Clarice to sit, Hannibal then went to the oven and retrieved their meal, warming until her return. As he placed the plates on the stone surface of the island and placed the appropriate cutlery he bent to kiss his wife.

"Bacon included my Love, enjoy."

"Thanks H. It was sweet of you to wait for me."

"Not at all, Clarice. I would wait forever if need be that you not eat alone."

Taking his place beside his wife, sitting shoulder to shoulder the pair enjoyed their meal. Occasionally, Clarice would lean into her husband and rest her head on his shoulder. Occasionally, Hannibal would feed her a bite of food. The lovers, though surrounded with a flurry of activity as the crew moved around the couple about the business of filming, behaved as if they were alone in the room. Their exchanges were so intimate and loving with no hint of contrivance the producer and director exchanged smiles and nods recognizing the ratings gold evolving in front of their eyes.

When their meal was complete, Hannibal and Clarice carried their plates to the sink and as Hannibal washed the dishes, Clarice dried them.

The producer quietly approached when the last of the dishes were put away and without prior warning touched her hand to Hannibal's shoulder.

"Excuse me, Doctor Lecter."

Although he was not at all surprised by the contact, he had in fact caught the scent of the woman's perfume the moment she moved, Hannibal spun toward the pressure quickly. There was no aggression in his action but the woman's latent fears combined with the speed at which Hannibal's body turned toward her startled the woman.

Seeing the producer flinch and knowing full well Hannibal understood the affect he had on people, Clarice smiled.

You did that on purpose, didn't you, H? The things you'll do when you're bored! If they new how silly you are…

Equally amused and responding as if the reaction had been unintentional Hannibal held up a hand in apology. "Please excuse me, it was not my aim to alarm. You caught me off guard."

Clarice bumped her husband's hip with hers and caught his eye.

Off guard my ass. I'm calling bullshit on that one, H.

Knowing her thought, Hannibal winked.

You know me too well, my Love.

Positively breathless from the shock of the moment the woman's hands flew to her face. Having no paper bag to control her hyperventilation, she cupped her palms over her mouth and breathed deeply in an attempt to calm. She knew how foolish she must have appeared, flinching as if he brandished a weapon. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as with the remnants of panic remained on her face.

Holy shit…Holy shit…I look like an idiot for sure.

The woman's exaggerated though unintentional response made it appear as if she perceived Hannibal might attack leading her to apologize profusely, "It was my fault, Doctor. I should have alerted you in some way before I touched you. Please accept my apology."

Allowing a moment to drink in her fear he paused then responded with courtesy, "I assure you there is no apology necessary. Now that you have my undivided attention is there something I can do for you?"

Lowering her still trembling hands, she regrouped, "I'd like to interview you for the documentary, if you don't mind."

Hannibal pondered the possibilities this circumstance would present and measuring the outcome, made his decision.

"I am of course at your disposal but would prefer to share my time with Clarice if that is agreeable. I believe the viewers are most interested in our interaction as a married couple. Of course, her participation would in no way remove any questions from the table. You may ask whatever you wish."

"No topics off limits?"

"None."

Clarice slipped her hand around her husband's waist and hooked her thumb on his belt, watching Hannibal wrap the woman around his proverbial thumb.

"Absolutely. I'm sure the viewers would love to see you together and get a vision of your relationship."

Hannibal placed a hand on her back and massaging as he spoke, "You don't have a problem participating with me, do you Clarice? If so, I'll go it alone."

"No problem, H. I'll be happy to sit with you and put my two cents in."

The producer was thrilled and barely contained her excitement as she questioned, "Since you just put the baby down for a nap, maybe now is a good time to get this done if you don't have any problem with that. Do either of you need to prepare?"

Clarice looked at Hannibal and nudged him with her elbow as she teased, "Age before beauty, H…you got anything you need to prepare?"

"I am more than prepared, Clarice. If we were alone and your capacity were such, I would be more than happy to demonstrate."

"I'm talking about the interview. There will be cameras, Stud."

"I don't mind cameras, Clarice."

Clarice slapped him on the backside as she followed the director into the next room.

"In three weeks plus, I'll keep that in mind, Big Guy!"

Hannibal smiled shamelessly, "I'll provide the tripod, Clarice."

Stopping in her tracks and bent with laughter at the double entendre Clarice joked, "Oh my God, you kill me, H!"

Grabbing his wife by her hips from behind Hannibal pressed himself fully against her and hissed in her ear through a devilish smile, "Others perhaps, but never you, Clarice…never you."

He then wrapped his arms around his wife's waist from behind, playfully lifted her off the ground and began to kiss and bite at her neck as he carried her into the family room with her legs swinging like a pendulum in front of them.

Clarice laughed and squirmed, "Let me go… let me go, H!"

Hannibal carried Clarice all the while growling playfully in her ear, "I will never let you go, my Love!"

By the time they reached the family room, Clarice was kicking and laughing hysterically as Hannibal proceeded to drive his face into her neck, nibbling the tender skin just behind her right ear.

The steadicam operator ran alongside as the boom operator chased with the microphone swinging overhead, catching every moment of the playful exchange on camera. The producer watched the entire scene, secure in the success of the project.

Christ, this is ratings gold!

Upon entering the family room, Hannibal set his wife down and turned her body in his arms. Now face-to-face he gathered her to him and hung his head over her shoulder. They didn't kiss. They didn't speak. They simply held each other, cameras rolling.

After two or three minutes of loving embrace the pair separated, Hannibal brushing the back of his hand along her cheek as they parted. He then took her hand and, guided her to the loveseat, occupying the seat beside her.

The producer took her place, choosing to sit on the wing chair, Hannibal's wing chair, across from the loveseat, and cameras still rolling, began the interview.

Checking her notes quickly, the producer turned to the couple and spoke her first question to both Hannibal and Clarice, "So, it's obvious the two of you are very close?"

Clarice responded with a hint of sarcasm and a smile, "You think? What tipped you off?"

Hannibal lowered his head and smiled.

"You are magnificent, Clarice," he spoke softly as he traced tiny figure eights over his wife's thigh with his fingertips.

The producer smiled, obviously finding Clarice's comment entertaining. She turned and addressed Hannibal hoping for some of the same, "Well, I guess we now all know what Clarice's opinion is. Would you like to share your thoughts, Doctor Lecter?"

Hannibal continued to touch his wife, his eyes on his hand as his thumb re-traced the pattern. He considered the question while responding, "We are very close, yes. Probably more so than most newly married couples for we have endured much to be together. When you consider this first year of our marriage, we have been apart almost as much time as we have been together, all in an effort to earn the right to live openly as husband and wife."

The producer signaled for the camera to focus on the poignancy of Hannibal's hands tenderly stroking Clarice. As the lens turned drawing in the scene, the producer questioned, "Is there a significance to the pattern you trace over your wife's skin?"

"Infinity. To signify that I will love her always."

Ratings fucking gold!

The producer could barely contain her excitement, "Doctor Lecter, when did you first realize you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Clarice?"

The second camera zoomed in on Hannibal's face. Seeing the close-up and understanding the power of that question in the minds of viewers, Hannibal leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on his wife's lips. He then lowered his head for a moment like a bashful young boy as he paused for effect and spoke quietly.

"It wasn't something I considered consciously very often, though the heat of passion…the want of her simmered within me just beneath the surface. The love bloomed very slowly, blossoming over time. Although the concept that we might someday be together evolved very gradually, she had my attention from the first. I expect it was the same for Clarice."

Clarice leaned against Hannibal, her head tipping slightly onto his shoulder as she joined, "Yeah…He was always with me…"

She neglected to finish the thought…like a bad habit.

Accepting the affirmation by Clarice, the producer looked up from her notes and questioned Hannibal further, "So…by the end of the first meeting you were interested in Clarice?"

Straightening his already exceptional posture Hannibal corrected his body as he corrected the statement, asserting, "No, not from the first meeting. From the first moment."

An expression of incredulity reflecting that she didn't believe the comment, the producer responded frankly, "The first moment? You can't be serious."

Hannibal's eyes shifted to Clarice for support and she immediately affirmed, "If he said it, he means it. Hannibal doesn't lie."

The producer didn't take this comment seriously. "What do you mean he doesn't lie? Everyone lies at one time or another."

Shaking her head, Clarice repeated, "No. He doesn't lie…ever. Why do you think he didn't enter an insanity plea at his trial or claim innocence? He doesn't lie."

"That's an incredible statement. What do you have to say in response to your wife's claim, Doctor?"

Hannibal took his wife's hands in his, securing them on his lap.

"I make no claims. I did not enter a plea at my trial because I didn't feel any of the options offered presented the truth of the matter. I do not feel the need to lie because I don't do anything of which I am ashamed. If there is no shame, there is no reason for deceit."

"You're not ashamed of the lives you've taken?"

"No, I am not ashamed any more than my wife is ashamed of the lives she has taken."

"But she had a badge."

"That didn't make them any more or less dead, did it?"

"No…I guess not."

Clarice leaned forward and glared at the producer, "Are we going to re-try a pardoned man again. Isn't that a tad redundant considering that was the entirety of your last documentary? I think the whole Hannibal the Cannibal/ Beauty and the Beast angle has been beaten to fucking death, don't you?"

Though his chest swelled with pride as his lioness sharpened her claws, Hannibal did not draw attention to her defense of him, instead reprimanding gently, "My Love…Language."

Clarice was clearly disturbed, as she felt responsible. She handled the arrangements regarding this documentary and would not have Hannibal treated in this way.

"Fuck it! The baby's not here, H! I'm not watching you choke on this anymore!"

The producer could see by the look in Clarice's eyes not Hannibal's, that the documentary would not be served by additional queries on this topic and wisely regrouped.

"You're right. We did extensively cover that information. Getting back to the original thought, you said you were interested in Clarice from the first moment?"

Hannibal brought their clasped hands to his face and kissed the back of his wife's hand. "Yes, from the first moment I saw Clarice I knew she was special and every single moment I have spent in her company has reinforced that initial assessment."

"What about her led you to that conclusion?"

Hannibal faced his wife, looking into her eyes as he spoke his answer.

"There is divinity, a purity in her eyes that I have seen in no other. Clarice has an intelligence and an honesty I found and still find, exceedingly attractive."

"You were attracted to her beauty?"

Still fixated on his wife, he expounded, "She is Beauty, yes, but she is so much more than that. Goodness emanates from my wife. I speak of the light within her; that spark of soul that illuminates her being from within. She is irresistible. In girum imus nocte et consumimur igni"

Leaning forward over the clipboard secured atop her crossed legs the producer was intrigued, "That means what, Doctor?"

Breathing deeply he assessed the changes in his wife's scent. The post-partum period left her hormones in flux and her iron levels lowered. He determined her bleeding was still fairly significant. He was clearly distracted as he spoke, "We enter the circle at night and are consumed by fire."

"What is the significance of that quote, Doctor Lecter?"

The action of blinking once served the purpose of bringing Hannibal back to the topic at hand.

"It is indicative of risk verses reward representing the behavior of a moth as it is drawn to the danger of the flame. Though I believed Clarice was the only person alive who represented a true danger to me, I could not help but be enticed. She captivated me so completely that though I had little hope, I dared to approach and speak my love to her. I was fortunate to find my feelings were returned in equal measure, though in courage, she is unequalled."

"Courage?"

Hannibal leaned toward the producer as he questioned, "Do you not think it requires bravery to be my spouse and the mother of my child?"

Shifting uncomfortably in Hannibal's chair she responded, "Why would she need bravery? You wouldn't hurt her, would you? Do you think she's afraid of you? Do you want her to be afraid of you?"

Hannibal raised a suspicious eyebrow at the inference.

"Why would I want my wife to live in fear of me? What kind of a husband would that make me? No, my wife understands that she is perfectly safe in my arms and I am not speaking of doing her injury when I state bravery is required to be my spouse. As my wife alluded, I am, in certain circles, still referred to as Hannibal the Cannibal. Do you not believe courage is required to live as my wife with that burden to carry? Clarice gave birth to my son knowing what people think when they see me. You yourself flinched in my presence scant minutes earlier. Though I pose no threat, people fear me. Clarice never has."

"Never?" The producer turned to Clarice, "Is that true?

Clarice nodded, "Yeah, it's true."

"That seems unlikely."

"It's not unlikely at all. Based on his morals I knew he would never hurt me."

"Morals? An unusual word to attribute to a man who was once sentenced to nine consecutive life terms."

"He's the most moral man I have ever known."

Clarice almost dared a response.

The producer, seeing Hannibal as more cooperative, continued, Doctor Lecter, have you reformed?"

Hannibal laughed internally at the thought. Externally, he made a concerted effort to keep a straight face. He could see, by the hand raised to shield her amusement, Clarice was having similar difficulties controlling her reaction.

Hannibal, not wanting to seem trite, responded simply, "Reformed? That word carries with it the connotation that there was an improvement needed to my character as if I were in some way, defective. No. In the strictest definition of the word, I am not reformed though I have promised my wife I would not take another life unless in defense of my family or myself. I honor that promise as I honor the love I have for my wife. She is perfection, my Clarice."

The producer seemed horrified as she repeated, "Your Clarice?"

It was obvious to Hannibal, the producer took umbrage to his assertion of fully possessing his wife. He wasn't the least bit concerned by her interpretation or any offense she might take from the appellation he lovingly bestowed. He lowered his head, his eyes shining with laser-like intensity as he reasserted the nickname he used to refer to his beloved, "Yes. My Clarice."

Feminist sensibilities affronted, the producer pursued, "You say that as if you possess her. As if you own her, believing she belongs to you."

Hannibal did not shrink from that concept. Rather, he asserted simply, "Yes, precisely."

The producer shifted her eyes to Clarice obviously seeking some sign of displeasure at the misogynistic undertones she herself perceived, though in fact there was no such hint in Hannibal's tone. In fact, the tenor of his reflected not only honor but unbridled love and admiration.

Still the producer forced the point by questioning, "Do you have a problem being referred to as my Clarice?"

Clarice looked at the producer, assessing her intent.

"What are you getting at?" she asked defensively.

"My Clarice. When you consider semantics, there's an inference of ownership."

"The hell there is. Don't go inserting political correctness where it doesn't belong and fuck semantics. He says my Clarice because he wants everyone to know I'm his. If that offends your sensibilities that's just tough freaking luck. He's damned right I'm his, and guess what. He's mine."

Hannibal smiled as Clarice vehemently took to his defense, "Yes, my Love…all yours, mind, body and soul."

The producer regrouped, "I didn't mean to offend either of you."

Hannibal placed his arms around his wife, proud to have her by his side. He offered graciously to the producer, "No offense has been taken. Please, continue."

The producer, realizing Hannibal and Clarice were somewhat of a tag team, smiled.

"You'd defend him no matter what, wouldn't you?"

Clarice, in defending Hannibal, spoke her love to him in volumes. She was intensely passionate as she verbally protected, "He doesn't need me to defend him, but I won't let people treat him like some kind of a goddamned animal or try and put their own fears on his back by attributing motivations to him I know are bullshit! No, he doesn't need me to defend him, but I'll sure as hell stand by his side no matter what."

The producer turned to Hannibal and dared ask, "Would you kill for Clarice?"

Unafraid of the question he spoke plainly.

"If need be…"

Hannibal paused. Evolving was a distant, faraway look in his eyes.

"…But it's so much more than that…"

Confused, the producer paused, not knowing what to say.

Squeezing his wife's hand, Hannibal filled the silence.

"…I'd die for her."

Until the next chapter my friends!

LH