Unforseen Chapter 3

Dr Lecter smoothly pulled out of the hospital parking area and merged with the late afternoon traffic. There was silence between them, but it was a comfortable silence. Occasionally Dr Lecter would point out important landmarks, and chat a bit about its history.

"How long have you been in Florence?" Clarice asks when there was a natural break in the conversation. She wasn't quite sure if he would answer.

Dr Lecter kept his eyes on the road, but Clarice had no doubt that he was watching her in his peripheral vision.

"About two years. I travelled around Europe a bit after my escape. I found I needed to stretch my legs a bit. My mother was Italian, and this city has ever pulled me like a moth to a flame"

Clarice was surprised, he had never been this candid with her before. She was intimately familiar with his file, and the fact that his mother was Italian was a definite surprise to her. She felt honoured to be trusted with this information.

There was a flight of stairs to reach Dr Lecter's apartment, and Clarice was a bit dismayed how tiring she found them. Dr Lecter supported her elbow without making her feel crowded. It was a gorgeous old building with a living area having large windows that opened onto a piazza outside. Dr Lecter showed her to a beautiful room also facing the piazza.

"I assume you'd want to take a shower?"

"Definitely. First thing"

"I expected as much. You can remove the hospital bandages and cover your wounds with these water-resistant plasters" he said handing her a paper bag "Then re-bandage once you are finished. I will fix us something to eat"

Clarice eyed her suitcase where Dr Lecter had put in on a low dresser so that it would be easy for her to access.

"You're not expecting me to dress for dinner or anything, are you? I really don't have anything fancier than this in there" she said, indicating her suitcase. Her shabby old second-hand case was looking decidedly out of place in the rich surroundings

"Well, for tonight I think we may forgo such formalities" There was a smile in his voice. "But if you'll allow me" he said, opening a wardrobe.

It was more than half full of brand-new women's clothing, and Clarice was willing to bet her bottom dollar that it would all be in her size.

She eyed him a tad suspiciously

"When did you buy this"

"Yesterday afternoon, after I left you. There are no expectations or obligations attached to the clothes. You can use them or not as you choose"

He had correctly read her uneasiness and tried to mollify.

Clarice took a small step forward and touched some of the dresses hanging there.

"You didn't have to do that"

"I know. But I wanted to"

Clarice didn't really know what to say to that

Dr Lecter leaned past her to switch on the light for the on-suite bathroom.

"Keep the water lukewarm to tepid. A very hot shower may make you feel a bit faint. Join me when you are ready"

Clarice though he was going to move past her, and was astonished when he dropped a kiss to her forehead. It was over before she could react, she stood dumbly watching as he turned and closed the door behind him.

Clarice decided to follow Dr Lecter's – was it a suggestion or an order? – to shower lukewarm. Figuring it would be stupid to ignore good advice when given. The water-resistant bandages had kept her wounds nice and dry, but she struggled a bit to re-apply the bandages after her shower. There was no way she was asking for help to do so. She was a bit unsure what to wear, she had told him she wasn't going to dress up, and so she decided on wearing the FBI t-shirt and shorts that she had been sleeping in. It was the most comfortable thing in her suitcase and she was feeling very drained. It had not been 48 hours since her second surgery and she was feeling it.

Clarice hesitated when she opened her bedroom door, not having been shown the rest of the apartment yet, but thought that following the smell coming from a room at the end of the hall to be a good move. She entered the kitchen and saw Dr Lecter busy at the stove. He had replaced his suit jacket with a white apron and had rolled-up his shirt-sleeves to just below his elbows. Clarice swallowed hard and dropped her gaze.

"Perfect timing my dear" Dr Lecter said as a soft melodious bell sounded next to the oven. Donning a pair of oven mits, Dr Lecter removed a fresh pizza with the air of a conjurer. It smelled delicious.

"Pizza alla Bufala. I thought I would provide you with one of your main food groups"

Placing the pizza on the waiting plate on the kitchen table, Dr Lecter moved to the side and seated her. Her mouth was watering and she smiled at his small quip. The kitchen felt cozy and intimate and Dr Lecter had set a table to be welcoming, not overwhelming.

"Did you make this from scratch or did you use a pre-made base?" Clarice asked as he stared cutting the pizza.

The look of absolute horror on Dr Lecter's face pulled a laugh from her that had her clutching her side in pain.

"I most certainly did not. I made the dough last night and kept it in the fridge"

Clarice was struck by the amount of effort he had gone to on her behalf. He had been exhausted when he had left her the previous afternoon, and not only had he gone shopping on her behalf, he had decided to make her fresh pizza dough. Just because she had mentioned she liked pizza. This was truly a remarkable man. He seemed to notice the change in her demeanour, and sat quietly watching her.

"I was serious when I said I want you to stay with me Clarice"

Clarice nodded, and looked down at her pizza. The first bite had her moaning in appreciation. Dr Lecter's eyes burned. He had long held the fantasy of cooking for Clarice, and her reaction was everything he had hoped for. He hoped that he would have the chance to cook a bit more lavishly for her, but for now the aim was to provide comfort, not inspire awe.

"This is without a doubt the best pizza I had ever tasted" she told him.

"Thank you very much" he told her honestly and poured them both a glass of fresh cool mineral water.

There was a companionable silence between them, but Dr Lecter noticed how she was holding herself more stiffly as the meal progressed. He knew she was due the next pain and antibiotic tablets, but those should not be taken on empty stomach. He was gratified to note that she had finished her half of the pizza. Her appetite was much better that it had been in the hospital, and he started mentally cataloguing what she may or may not like. Once the food was finished, Clarice reached for his plate to help clear the table, but he gently took her hand in his.

"For now, allow me hmm?"

Clarice was of a mind to argue, but she was tired and sore and so allowed him to clear the few dishes they had used and put them in the sink. He sat down again and held out some pills in his hand for her to take. Again, she was reminded that it probably wasn't a good idea to take pills from a known serial killer, but she was quite confident that he didn't mean her harm. After only a slight hesitation, she took the pills. Dr Lecter smiled at this small sign of trust.

Dr Lecter stood and washed the dished after Clarice had retired to her room. The pain medication will make her drowsy and he hoped that she would sleep restfully. He reflected how easy it had felt to allow her into his space. Like she belonged there.

They were sitting on a bench in the Piazzale Michelangelo the next morning. As it was still early, very few tourists were about. The view over the city was breathtaking, but Dr Lecter found his gaze drawn to the woman beside him. They had been chatting about the history of Florence, Dr Lecter being pleasantly surprised how much Clarice knew and had now fallen into companionable silence. She was wearing some of the clothes he had bought for her, and the light charcoal sundress she wore, fitted her perfectly. He knew her selection was partially due to the fact that she only bought one dress, and that a dress put less pressure on her healing abdomen than pants would, but he was encouraged that she chose to wear it nonetheless. From his periphery, Dr Lecter watched a young man jogging along the path and eyeing Clarice, slowed his jog. He stretched his arm around the back of seat to rest his arm a bit possessively on the backrest. The young man seemed to get the message as he sped up again and was soon out of view.

Dr Lecter kept them out for most of the morning, but always with places for them to sit and rest. She knew he was doing it for her comfort. She wasn't used to someone taking care of her, it was usually the other way round, or she was just reliant on herself.

"Are you feeling tired my dear?" he asked as he got into the car after seating her first.

"No, I feel fine"

"Good. Then it's a good time to head home I think"

Home, when last did she really have a home, instead of just someplace to sleep?

"I'm not tired. You don't have to change your plans on my behalf. I don't exactly intent to lounge around till I'm healed. You don't have to coddle me"

"No coddling, I assure you. But while I will gladly bow to your superior knowledge and experience in maintaining one's running fitness, I expect you to yield to my knowledge of wound healing"

Clarice did not like yielding anything to anyone, but Dr Lecter had only acted in her best interest since their meeting here in Florence.

"OK, well just so you know, this won't be a permanent arrangement"

Dr Lecter bowed his head. He hoped she referred to the fact that she had to follow his orders as a medical doctor, and not to the possibility of her staying with him long term. Clarice was managing the stairs better than she was yesterday. He thought he would ask her to let him inspect her wounds tomorrow, but for now saw no reason for him to be concerned. He had deposited Clarice on the living room couch, leaving to get them both an espresso and something to eat. When he returned, he could see from the way she was holding herself that she was again experiencing pain. He hoped that one day soon she would tell him herself when that was the case. Dr Lecter handed Clarice a plate with a croissant filled with figs, honey and a dash of sea salt. Her smile was more of a grimace as she took the plate from him. He put the glass of water next to her plate with her pain medication. She could have those once she's eaten. When he returned with his own plate, he was gratified that she hadn't started eating yet.

"I just thought I'd wait for you".

Her gaze, though laced with pain, was clear and unabashed. His heart gave a lurch as he sat down next to her. They ate in companionable silence.

Clarice had known that he was basically a gormet chef, but found herself surprised just how well he could actually cook. The food he had been providing for them had been absolutely delicious. She finished her croissant and picked up the pain pills. They always made her extremely woozy and drowsy right after taking them which she didn't care for one bit.

"Bottom's up" she joked as he ironically lifted her glass of water to him and he playfully taped his own glass to hers. She put the drained glass down and leaned back into the couch. She thought she should move to her room before she got too drowsy, but she was so comfortable where she was, she was rue to do so. She was just about to get up when she felt Dr Lecter pass his arm around her shoulders and gently pull her to his side. She thought about resisting, but her body made the decision for her, and she gently sank against his shoulder. Dr Lecter quietly celebrated this small act of further trust and settled her more comfortably against him.

When Clarice woke almost an hour later, it was with her head resting in his lap, a light wool blanket covered her and his thumb idly, almost absentmindedly, rubbing her shoulder. She settled a bit more comfortably and he squeezed her shoulder before starting to read to her in Italian, She had no idea what he was reading, or what the words meant, but his voice soothed her seamlessly back to sleep.

"Will you let me inspect the wounds, Clarice?" He asked her the next day over breakfast. She nearly swallowed her spoon with her scrambled eggs at the question.

"They seem fine" she told him. She was becoming more and more aware of her body the more time she spent near him.

"Good. The surgeon did release you into my care, so I'd be remiss in my duties if I didn't make sure the healing was progressing as we want it to"

Dr Lecter led her back to her room, and encouraging her to lie down, lifted the edge of her blouse, exposing the bandaged wounds and nothing more. He gently removed the bandages and smiled at what he saw. He ran a gentle finger over the sutures and the goosebumps erupting on her skin wasn't lost on him. He wanted to linger, but comported himself as the consummate professional, carefully re-applying the bandages.

The days seemed to bleed into each other. It was over breakfast that Dr Lecter broached a subject he had been reluctant to voice.

"Today is day five after your surgery Clarice. Do you have an idea what you would like? Shall I arrange for your return ticket to Washington?"

He kept his face perfectly blank, but Clarice sensed the tension in him. He wasn't pressuring her one way or the other, she was going to have to make a decision herself.

"No, I you'll have me, I think I'd stay a bit longer"
Clarice blushed when she ran the sentence in her head again, but he gave her an genuine smile and didn't draw attention to her Freudian slip. He got up and placed a plate of pancakes in front of her, before lighting it with a flourish

"Crepe Suzette Flambé"

Clarice laughed as she regarded her flaming plate and watched as the flames quickly disappeared

"I've heard of it but have never had some myself. Was that dependent on my answer?" she asked as she picked up her knife and fork.

"No" Dr Lecter replied, lighting his own plate "but this does seem more fitting given your answer don't you think? I normally pair these with Demi-sec Champagne, but since you are still on a cocktail of medication, that will have to wait"

Dr Lecter would make a quick but thorough inspection of her wounds every day and removed the sutures ten days after her surgery. She was again laying on her bed and he was using a small tweezer and scissor to snip and remove the ugly sutures from her belly. There would be an uncomfortable, almost painful tug as each one was removed, and though she made no noise, she did grimace a bit. She watched his eye twitched every time she flinched. She was quick to pull her blouse down once the sutures were gone, feeling a bit self-conscious about the ugly red scars left behind.

It was as she laid in bed the one night, that she realised that she intended to stay. That she felt happy and content to be here with him. There was a lightness in her heart that she wasn't accustomed to. She realised that she was happy. She penned a letter of resignation the next day, and Dr Lecter went with her when she posted it. He held her hand in his all the way back. She had been staying with him for more than a month at that point.

Clarice was standing in the kitchen the next morning, leaning against the doorpost, as she watched Dr Lecter cook something for breakfast. She had offered to help a few times, but he seemed to derive great pleasure in cooking for her, and then watching her eat it. She had started insisting on helping with the dishes, and they would normally stand side by side, hips or shoulders brushing as one would wash and the other would dry. He seemed to feel her gaze on him, as he turned and smiled, then lifted his brow in silent question. She must have been looking rather serious. She crossed to him, and took him by surprise when she combed back some of the hair from his forehead, before cupping his cheek in her hand.

"I'm staying" she told him softly.

He turned his head to kiss her palm, and her heart skipped a beat. She was never sure afterwards if she moved to kiss him, of if he moved to kiss her. She supposed it didn't really matter.

"Are you sure Clarice? You need to be sure" he said, pulling back to look into her eyes.

"Yes, Dr Lecter. I'm sure" she said with a smile.

"Say my name"

She looked deep into his marron eyes

"Hannibal"

He scooped her into his arms and carried her to his room. Breakfast be dammed.

It had been the best sex she had ever had. Bar none. She was laying on her back and Dr Lecter was laying on his side, facing her. There was a warm glow and lethargy in all of her limbs and a comfortable silence lay between them. She was aware of a slight discomfort in her side, but he had been gentle and kind in his touches and she was easily able to ignore it.

He was tracing idle patterns on her tummy, raising goosebumps, but when he traced the outlines of her new scars, she made a sound in the back of her throat of dissent and moving his hand away from her abdomen, made to draw the bed linen back over herself.

"No" he said softly "don't hide. Not from me. These scars show your fortitude and strength. Don't try to hide them from me"

She was moved by what he said, and let go of his hand. He immediately went back to her new wounds, gently covering them with his hand. She had a few scars, incurred in the service of the FBI, and she had always felt a bit self-conscious of them. Now there were even more.

"Furthermore, they remind me of my own folly"

She tilted her head in a silent question as he resumed tracing the raised scars on her abdomen

"I had always planned to contact you again. I knew you needed time to find your feet, to come into your own and to become disillusioned with your life and the FBI. I had thought perhaps in a year or so. This is a stark reminder of the inherent flaw in my plan; I had not fully appreciated the inherent dangers of your chosen profession"

It was a statement of such openness and vulnerability, Clarice gently moved some of the hair from his forehead to comfort them both. Openness and vulnerability weren't an easy thing for either of them, and she accepted it as the gift that it was.

He turned his head, and kissed her palm, before playfully biting the meat of it, eliciting a gasp from her. She had no idea she would find it so erotic.

"I don't think I would have been receptive till now".

She would honour his honesty with honesty of her own. He didn't reply but made a grunt from the back of his throat as he continued to kiss her hand and trace her fingers with his mouth.

She could feel him stirring against her thigh again.

"Again? You are impressive for a man your age"

He gave a playful growl as he loomed over her.

"I'll have you eat those words my dear. I do believe I require compensation for that"

Clarice laughed as she draped her arms over his neck.

"Well, I wasn't going to tell you this, seeing as your ego is already so inflated. But I'll offer this piece of information to make it up to you; I have never climaxed with a partner before. Ever. I always have to take care of myself in the shower afterwards"

"Is that so?" he answered mouthing the muscles of her neck. The information does swell his pride, but also tugs at his heart. "Yes, I do believe that can be considered adequate payment. After all, as you've seen, that does not appear to be a problem for me. As I showed you. Numerous times"

Clarice couldn't help but laugh once more. She seemed to have been laughing a lot the last few weeks. Talk about an unforeseen consequence of being suspended.

"Yes, numerous times. I may just regret telling you that"

He ran his hand between their bodies and gently palpated her abdomen around the bullet wound. "Are you sore here?"

His voice and demeanour had turned more serious than it was a moment ago.

There was a bit of discomfort, but nothing too severe

"A bit"

He moved his hand to gently palpate the surgical scar

"And here?"

"A bit"

He moved is hand again and gently cupped her intimately "And here" he asked softly against her lips.

"A bit. It's been a while"

"Hmmm, I could tell. You were extremely tight"

"What treatment would you recommend Doctor?"

She gasps as he moves his fingers.

"Oh, the only thing that will help is daily stretches, I'm afraid"

"Daily, huh?"

"Perhaps even more frequently. Over an extended period. Years perhaps"

"Well, I suppose there is no option but to follow Doctor's orders"

"Indeed"

And so, they did.