For the Moment
Sacara
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Summary: Clarice misses Hannibal.
Timeline: This story takes place sometime after the book
Rating: PG-13
Copy: Part 1 of 1
Author’s
note: . Actually this fic deals within
only hours, well ..... see
for yourself! I hope you like it! Please excuse any
mistakes.
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Blue
eyes searching around – she was in an elevator.
It
was four foot square, a plush carpet, underneath elegant Gucci shoes, stained
and worn by hundreds of feet coming in from anywhere, trailing muddy suitcases
after them.
The
walls were covered in the ruddy soft carpet and a dim lamp was the only light
source in the tiny roof. One wall was mirrored. Why that – do they try to make
the place seem bigger? If so, they never succeeded.
A
soft creaking noise – the lift suddenly came to a standstill. Not again.
She
strained her ears to hear any sound of the elevator moving, but in vain. This
elevator was dead, as dead as her early childhood belief in an honest
government. Stuck again in a minute elevator in the back of her former place of
work, the FBI building.
Dizziness
seized her like a huge wave and in her head the recurring images of her past:
the cellar in Gumb’s house, all those disgusting moths – multiple Miggs
cracking up in his dark cell, then Ivelda falling again and again in slow motion
the baby pressed to her body after the deadly shot ...dizzy so dizzy ...
Krendler, with his brain uncovered gleaming in candlelight – then the most
painful piece of the jigsaw puzzle: Brigham, lying there on the street, dead.
Her ally, her friend. No, no please not again. She couldn’t go through that
all over again. ‘I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe in here! Please, please,
please, GET THIS DAMN ELEVATOR
RUNNING!’
She
bit her lower lip bloody, tasting the sweet tang of iron, the salt...
Her
nails dug deeper into the callused spots of her petite hands.
The
tiny room began to spin around. She was thrown against the four walls, her pale
horrified face flashing at her in the mirrored wall.
Faster
and faster. Terrible details of her eventful life swept into her abused mind....
stop, please stop....
With
a scream former Special Agent Clarice Starling, FBI, awoke from a nightmare, a
nightmare which has haunted her for a long time. It haunted her like the
unceasing screams of the lambs.
Clarice
sat upright in her bed. Darkness surrounded her. Her eyes adjusted to the
darkness, outlines of her bedroom becoming apparent by the minimal light of the
moon.
She
unclenched her fists the panic dissolved slowly. Clarice felt the sweat beads on
her forehead and wiped the now cool liquid off her face. Her nightgown also wet
from perspiration was stuck to the features of her slender body.
She
was so tired, tired of waking in the middle of the night, alone, waiting to fall
asleep again. This dream came to her out of the depth of her consciousness like
a dreadful monster that had crept out of the moor to frighten people.
Why
an elevator? Clarice couldn’t remember being afraid of confined spaces,
claustrophobia was never an issue. Then why this dream?
Clarice
shook her head with resignation. With both hands she rubbed her tired eyes.
Maybe she really should ask him, but she was afraid.
She
didn’t want him to see her as his patient. She had tried to tell him lots of
times and always backed out, because she wanted him as a man not a doctor - if
she needed treatment she could go to a psychiatrist. Clarice scoffed, that was a
lie of course, she would never in her life make an appointment.
Clarice
was certain that he would find a solution to her problem, but .... she sighed
deeply ... we’ll see!
A
quick glance over her right shoulder at the watch on her nightstand made her
realize that sunrise was due in more than three hours. It was no use trying to
sleep now. The last times she had awaked out of this nightmare it turned out to
be a tossing and turning while brooding about the most unconceivable things.
Clarice stood up thinking that she could reflect on the meaning of life another
night.
She
put on a dressing gown and went to the living room. She switched on the lights
to prevent from falling over one the boxes that were still scattered about the
room.
Warm
light filled the huge room. Its high ceilings and big windows increasing the
effect. The room looked like an antique shop, the most beautiful things were
distributed over the space.
Clarice
walked over to her favorite. It was the first precious gift she had received
from him. An antique bureau made from rosewood, she stroked the smooth varnish
of the piece. She just loved all the little drawers and secret spaces the bureau
provided.
She
turned slowly around the room smiling to herself, everything reminded her of
him.
Clarice
went into the kitchen to fetch herself a drink. She came back out with a campari
orange and sat down on the pompous maroon leather suite. Goosebumps covered her
delicate skin and she covered herself with a blanket, feeling chilly all of a
sudden.
She
slid down just a few inches to lean her head against the soft material. The
drink tasted wonderful and fresh and for a moment Clarice just closed her eyes.
Former
agent Starling thought about the serious changes in her life.
She
was free now. No longer did she have to tolerate the macho-like behavior of her
superiors that treated her like a nuisance from time to time. She was her own
boss now, what a satisfying feeling!
And
even if she hadn’t her best friend Ardelia anymore, who she missed sadly, the
mere thought of him set her in a state of euphoria. Him of course was Doctor
Hannibal Lecter, her ... well .. what exactly should she call him. She was with
him now for almost 16 months and that was all. Hannibal came and went whenever
he liked, not saying where he would go or where he had been, not even telling
her how long he intended to stay. He treated her with utmost generosity and of
course provided her with the most unimaginable gifts and all other needful
things, but there was not one single thing that he had revealed about himself.
When he was there, there was her apartment, or when they went on a trip together to
somewhere all over the world, they surely held never-ending thoroughly
intellectual discussions about anything, but they never really
talked. She had tried to but he wouldn’t give her an inch.
She
certainly loved him with all her heart, how else could she have stayed with him,
after what he had done, but she wanted more of him. She needed him, especially
in nights like tonight when she has waked up bathed in sweat.
Clarice
also knew that she feared to tell him about these thoughts, because she didn’t
know how he would react. He needed his newly gained freedom more than the air he
breathed and she was afraid that he needed it more than her. If she challenged
him to decide maybe he would leave her. And that she wouldn’t be able to bear.
Her
glass was empty but Clarice was too exhausted to get another drink. She put it
on the table in front of her and leaned back again.
“Where
are you now, Hannibal? Please if you can hear me, I need you tonight more than
ever!” all of a sudden she sensed that he would come tonight. She just said it
aloud to assure herself.
She
lay down on the broad couch and minutes later she fell asleep.
A
key was turned in the lock and the door to her apartment opened. Hannibal Lecter
entered the room. He smelled the air and smiled. It smelled like Clarice, his
Clarice.
It
was 6 days ago that he had done the same and he longed to hold her in his arms
again, touch her soft skin and breath in her unique scent.
Hannibal
put his elegant long dark coat on a hanger and into the closet, then walked
through the hall to the living room. He noticed the lights there, deep wrinkles
appeared on his forehead.
After
a quick look into the bedroom he noticed that she wasn’t in bed. He was
getting worried, why wasn’t she sound asleep in her warm bed at 2.30 a.m.?
Lecter
found her on the couch in the living room, sleeping. He propped himself on the
back rest and just admired the sleeping beauty. She lay there calmly, totally
relaxed. ‘She’s all mine’ he thought and still not quite believed it.
With
the very tips of her fingers he stroked her cheek, it wasn’t more than a
feathery touch, because he didn’t want to wake her. Despite his caution
Clarice woke and opened her eyes.
Their
eyes met and if was like a firework. Nothing had changed since the first time. A
broad smile appeared on her beautiful face and she held out both hands.
“Come
here Hannibal!” it wasn’t a
request.
Hannibal
went around the couch to lie down beside her. They just held each other, for a
while they enjoyed the company of one another, but after some time that wasn’t
enough. Hannibal threw away the blanket not caring where it landed. His hands
roamed over her slender body. Dozens of images for his memory palace, he
couldn’t get enough of those. His fingers and his mouth were everywhere.
Clarice had stopped thinking, she just enjoyed the things he did to her body,
one shiver after another ran down her spine.
Hannibal
longed to taste her - all of her, he pulled up her gown and tore the panties off
her body. He teased her with his lips and tongue his fingers sank deep into her
sweetness. Several times he brought her to the outer edge to hold back again,
then she finally climaxed with a scream that was hastily muffled with his mouth
on hers. In his kiss she tasted herself and Hannibal’s unique flavor.
Clarice
thought they would make love now, but he just pulled down the fabric of her gown
again and lied down beside her, one arm around her body.
She
didn’t know what to do. Should she ask him, but what if he got angry. She
didn’t want to disturb the atmosphere. How long will he stay, this time she
wondered.
Again
they enjoyed just being with one another. Hannibal dozed off feeling completely
safe in her arms. Only some forty minutes later he stirred and sat up.
“Hannibal
what is it?”
“I
have to go, my love!”
“But
you’ve just come home!” tears filled her lovely eyes.
“I
know, I’ll be back in two days, there’s some business I have to pursue!”
he stroked her cheeks and wiped away the tears.
Clarice
just shook her head sadly.
“I
can’t go on like this!” she said sulkily.
“I
know my little Clarice and things will change, believe me! The next time I am
home I’ll stay longer!”
“Said
that before!”
Lecter
stood up, his face a wooden mask. He looked at her for some time and eventually
smiled.
Clarice
smiled back. He turned and went into the hall. Then she heard the knocking of
the closet door, his coat, finally the entrance door was closed quietly with a
clicking sound.
It
wasn’t enough, not nearly, but it was enough for the moment...
Fin
Copyright 2001, Sacara