Chapter 17

Clarice stood where Dr. Lecter had left her and she watched as he opened the trunk to retrieve their bags. One strap slung across his chest and carried the other by the short handles. He closed the trunk then headed to a drop box across the parking lot and let the keys fall with a metal clank. Clarice was both relieved and discouraged by the sound. Gratefulness filled her, it meant she would no longer have to painfully recline in the bucket seat of the sports car. But it also cemented the realization that, once she boarded the boat, her path was set and there would be no going back.

No, she already understood that going back was not an option. She knew or at least could speculate what would or could happen to her and those options were something she did not see herself accepting. Still, she couldn't prevent a voice from spewing every concern that floated on the edges of her thoughts.

So, what? Get on a boat and go where? Italy, France, or somewhere in South America? Run and run and run? Watch not just your back but his too the whole time? How long will he need you as a "Body Guard"?

What will happen once he doesn't need you anymore, are you just gonna stroll out the front door and start a new life?

I'll cross those bridges when I come to them.

Hannibal headed back toward her and she watched his every step. They way he held himself was strong but balletic.

He won't let that happen... he isn't one let go easily. We might end up killing each other.

A sting in her chest. Clarice had to take a deep breath despite the contention in her ribs. Perhaps that would be the best solution.

Sacrificing yourself to him? Would I die trying to kill him just to save any potential future victims? Was she being altruistic or egotistical for martyrdom? Now that would be an interesting topic of conversation with Dr. Lecter. What about his actions? It has only been a few days since he plucked you from the wreckage and patched your physical wounds yet again. It can't simply have been a selfless act, there must be another reason.

The tension she felt between them told her exactly what it was but Clarice refused to give it roots in her mind.

So, is the uncharted path that lies ahead better than the predictable future you could possible have back at home?

Maybe. Maybe not better... no, definitely not better but...

Hannibal stopped in front of her. The unknown, lack of control scared the ever-prepared-for-anything Clarice. But with him ... it allured her.

Why does it allure you?

"Ready, Clarice?" His eyes anatomized her face, inquiring the thoughts that most likely caused the resolute expression she had.

Because, I need to face my fears and how best to do it than with the devil himself?

"Yes, I am." Clarice's shoulders squared with a sharp exhale. Hannibal gave a satisfied smile in return.

Their matched stride down the dock was not fast paced but not quite languid. The only ship that could have been their destination was a white and blue trawler built in the 1970's. It was roughly 130 feet long and docked half way down the pier. Robert reemerged from the wheelhouse when they reached the plank to board.

"Well, it's about time," Robert winked to Clarice, who was still disinterested in being cordial due to his crass gawk of her body earlier. "If I knew I was transporting newly weds I would have spruced the place up a bit." He pretended to polish the railing with his jacket sleeve.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken." Clarice's glare should have been warning enough for the conversation to be dropped. Hannibal swiftly ascended the plank and deposited the bags to the deck floor. Clarice got halfway before she grasped her side from a sharp pain. Dr. Lecter returned to aid her the rest of the way, his arm wrapped around her waist to help guide her.

"I know I'm a bit rusty with the dating scene but if the rules have changed so drastically to the point that what I saw is interpreted as chaste then sign me up!" Robert watched as they stepped aboard. Hannibal released Clarice before he dropped a knee and started to comb through his bag; letting the conversation take place without him.

"Sorry, I don't think they're taking applications at this time." Her eyes narrowed in on Robert.

Robert's eyes brows shot up with shock followed by a wide toothy grin. "Shame, I must have missed the deadline." he teased.

"Or you lack the basic requirements." her tone soured.

"You sound like an expert, Miss Starling. Please tell me then what are the basics considered these days? What is it that woman of this modern era look for?"

"For starters? Some humbleness and respect."

"Hmm ok ok," His fingers stroked the salt and pepper stubble on his chin in a mocking thoughtfulness, "Anything else?"

"Yeah, some civility and tact." She knew that he had baited her but she just couldn't let it go.

"I heard chivalry died ages ago. Are women such as yourself still looking for the proverbial knight in shining armor?"

"No, shining armor means the man has never had his mettle truly tested. Besides, only a superficial woman would seek out a shallow man whom would never attempt to see past her beauty and embrace her flaws." A satisfied smile flickered across Hannibal's face but he could hear the ever so slight tremble of Clarice's voice and knew her patience was withering. Hannibal rose to his feet with a manila envelope in hand as Robert threw his hands up as a sign of surrendering.

"Here we are." Hannibal extended the envelope toward Robert.

"Fantastic." Robert accepted it. He waved a hand to a secondary doorway, "Shall I show you to your Honeymoon Suite?" Robert chuckled when Clarice's jaw visibly tightened.

"Please, lead the way." Hannibal conceded, "Clarice, after you?" She trudged behind Robert to follow him down a set of stairs and into a narrow hallway.

"Here's the bathroom slash shower," he stopped at an accordion door on the right, "I have a fresh water tank on board. It holds about 6, 15 mins showers." He pulled the door open to reveal a short toilet and a shower head on the opposing wall. He continued forward down the hall. An open door frame on the left, "Here we have the kitchen and table."

The hallway turned and opened up into a room with four bunks, two stacked on opposite sides of the room. The two highest beds were crowded with boxes and clothes and tools. The two bottom ones were freshly made with seemingly clean bedding.

Robert stepped aside to for his guests. "Don't worry, I prefer to sleep up top in a hammock," he winks "the room's all yours."

"Your hospitality is appreciated, Robert." Hannibal set the bags down next to a bunk, while Clarice kept her attention on the room rather than Robert's goading.

"Not a problem, Lecter. We will be setting off shortly." Robert turned and left the two alone.

When she felt Robert was out of earshot she spoke up,"Is he always this frustrating?" Clarice settled down gently on the opposing bunk.

"Perhaps he likes you."

She tried to keep the groan from sounding adolescent "He's not my type."

"No of course not, my dear." Clarice didn't want to go down this track of this conversation and watched as Hannibal perused the inside of a bag.

"I think... I'd like to relax now."

"My sentiment exactly, I have something for you." He turned with a blister pill pack and an unopened bottle of water. "Two for now. Would you like something to eat with it, they have a tendency to upset empty stomachs."

Clarice popped two into her palm before chasing them down with the water. "No thank you, I don't have an appetite at the moment." She handed back the blister pack and settled down on the bed with the bottle beside her. It took her a good 15 mins to feel the effects of the percocet beginning and soon after she was able to sleep more comfortably.

Hannibal turned the light out when her breathing reflected her sleeping form then he himself found a comfortable position on his bunk. With one ear still tuned to his dormant Starling, the rest of him lingered at the scene of a frozen-in-mid-air Clarice, her fist balled up in preparation for a strike. It was relatively easy to recreate the scene even though the small glimpse he had was a reflection in the chrome on the phone and booth. A fleeting regret that he chose a location with no security cameras but better in the long run.

He studied her face for but a moment then closed his eyes and replayed the soundtrack of the scene. Bit by bit he removed all noise that was not her. Instinctively her, voice low in her chest, a growl; likely out of pain but also... if one were inclined to indulge a hope, a defensive battle cry of her protective nature.

I know its short, I'll try to extend the next chapter. -Grymm