Clarice's Scenario: Endgame

The fourth chapter of Clarice's Scenario, the end of my HANNIBAL & CLARICE trilogy The Tattoo, The Shirt, and The Scenario. Rated NC-17.

Disclaimer: As with all previous stories, the characters of Dr. Hannibal Lecter, Clarice Starling, et. al., are the exclusive property of Thomas Harris.

In one afternoon, seven years of dreaming and yearning exploded into real, glorious passion.

Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling were, at last, free to tap the unquenchable, undeniable attraction that had begun at the Baltimore Hospital for the Criminally Insane...while she was moving toward the law-enforcement career she would someday forsake...while he had been incarcerated. Their first meetings, both in Baltimore and Memphis, had seen them hiding behind masks---he, behind the veneer of aristocratic, unfeeling evil...she, behind the facade of justice, ambition, and above all, sanity.

His comment that "people will say we're in love" had been meant in jest, but even then his feelings for her were obvious. And as she laid bare her nightmares over the slaughter of the lambs, laid bare the beginnings of her rage over the murder of her father, she wasn't fooling him, either.

Granted, Hannibal and Clarice had feared their growing love for one another, even after he had escaped. After all, she was a Federal agent, while he was a convicted murderer who had cannibalized his victims. Common sense had told them to keep their distance, to just bear the respect that had already blossomed between them.

All being apart for seven years had done was intensify their feelings. What else could explain the shared erotic dreams they had been having. What else could explain why their dreams dominated every waking moment of their lives? There was nothing left for them to do but to explore their feelings, to surrender themselves completely to each other.

That was exactly what they did.

Hannibal and Clarice spent endless moments on the sofa, every blistering kiss, every soft caress, inflaming their desires. His lips felt every bit as sensual and soft as in her dreams...no, softer, sliding erotically over her face and neck before seeking her lips once more. His mouth tasted like sweet muscadine grapes, his tongue seeking hers as they lay there, their bodies gently crushed together.

Clarice tugged the tail of his white cotton shirt out of his pants, slipping her hand underneath. She was happily surprised to find bare skin underneath, and began unbuttoning his shirt immediately. They stopped kissing long enough for her to do so.

Once his shirt was completely open, Clarice peeled it back. Her Hannibal's chest was as beautiful tan, taut and muscled as in her dreams, the slight dust of hair over the pecs and abs only adding to his beauty. He rose up and slowly peeled it off, revealing broad shoulders and nicely muscled arms.

She was surprised, and pleased, to find something on his left arm that he would never have gotten before they met...a tattoo. It was a perfect reproduction of his original sketch of her, holding the baby lamb and wearing a flowing gown, from several years ago. Her name was just under the portrait, inside a legend ribbon and in beautiful Celtic script. The portrait was absolutely breathtaking.

"How long ago did you get this?" she now asked, awed and flattered by this expression of love.

"A young man in Florence did it for me last year," he smiled, softly stroking her legs. This motion caused the right leg of her slacks to be pushed up, revealing the tiny, bright-blue-and-black Monarch butterfly tattoo that resided on her ankle. "Who did your butterfly, Clarice?"

"Guy Aitchinson, up in Chicago," she replied, her hands stroking up and down his chest, her fingers gently pinching his nipples. "I got it right after I sent Jame Gumb to Hell for breakfast...think it's tacky?"

Hannibal's smile deepened. "Absolutely not," he whispered, swooping down for another lustful kiss.

After enjoying their clothed foreplay, he stood up, then took her hand and helped her off the sofa. Then, the two of them kissing and cuddling along the way, he led her to his bedroom door. He had also shut off the portable CD player in the living room and brought the CDs. "Wait here a second, Clarice," he sweetly instructed. "I have a few surprises for you."

Clarice grinned, barely able to contain herself. "Hurry, babe, please," she whispered as he went inside.

In his bedroom, Hannibal retrieved the boxes of candles from his closet, then got out the body oil warmer and "carafe" full of vanilla-amber oil from the drawer in his nightstand. He set the warmer on top of the nightstand, lit the tea light in the warming chamber, then set the oil over it. Then he arranged the varying sizes of pillar, votive, and taper candles all over the room before lighting them, as well.

Next he drew back the covers on his bed, fluffing the pillows and peeling back the silk cobalt sheets to make the bed look inviting. Next, he went to his 6-disc CD player and popped in music he deemed appropriate for this blissful first time: Madonna's Erotica, the Sade, Stevie Ray Vaughan and Melissa Etheridge CDs he'd retrieved from her Mustang, and the Pure Moods CDs. I can listen to Bach anytime, he reasoned as he started with the Sade CD. Not tonight...

Finally, taking a soft silk scarf from his chest of drawers, he went back for Clarice, who immediately grabbed him and kissed him. He was surprised by the urgency of her kiss, but was enjoying it too much to care. As they kissed, he began teasing her with the scarf, sliding it gently over her face and neck.

"Ever been blindfolded while making love?" he now asked.

"No," she admitted. "What happens?"

"Your sensations are heightened to degrees you've never experienced, Clarice...everything will feel so deliciously intense, so powerfully orgasmic, that every nerve, every muscle, every pore in your body will be screaming..."

"Mmmmmm, I like the sound of that...go ahead and blind me."

As Clarice closed her eyes, Hannibal tenderly wrapped the scarf around her, securing it in back so it wouldn't slip off. After doing this, he slowly and lightly traced his fingertips over her face and lips. "Ooooohhh," she sighed, leaning into his caress. Then he took her hands and led her into the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

Hannibal walked her to the bed, ravishing her with tender kisses, his hands sliding under her sweater and over her back. Under the blindfold, she felt her nerves crackle with new electricity from his touch, his soft hands and hot mouth causing her to soar already.

Now he lay her on the bed, removing her slippers, slacks and panties and setting them on the floor before sitting her up. Then he lifted the loose cashmere sweater off of her, tossing it aside as well before he undressed fully himself...then he began the slow, aching crawl up her body.

The heat of his naked flesh against hers was a sensation she had long dreamed about, a delicious experience she had always hoped for. That it was now happening went far beyond her wildest dreams...not to mention his. They kissed again, his right thigh now rubbing against her cunt...already she could feel him becoming erect. He paused a moment, then took her hand and placed it on his penis. "Feel that, Clarice?" he whispered, using his hand to rub hers against his aching erection. "Feel how hard you've made me, how big it is?"

"Mmmmmm, yes," she sighed, barely able to wrap her hand around the 8" phallus as she continued touching him, moving up to his glans. She could tell he was circumsized...just like in her dreams.

"Imagine how my cock will feel inside you," he sighed, wetting his index and middle fingers with his own saliva before gently thrusting them into her throbbing, wet opening, "like my fingers are now. Do you like it?"

"Mmmmmmmmm..." She enjoyed the feel of his fingers inside her, massaging her Grafenberg spot for but a moment before he withdrew them. Then he brought his cunt-slick fingers to her lips, encouraging her to lick them.

"See how sweet you taste?" he whispered, leaning down to taste her sweetness as she tasted herself on his fingers. "How good you smell?"

"Ooooohhh, yes."

Again their lips met, then, for but a moment, he stopped his caresses. "Hannibal, don't stop," she pleaded, hoping for more.

"Be patient, my love," he replied gently. "I have some more surprises for you...don't go away..."

"Oh, babe, you're killin' me!"

"I won't be long, I promise."

He now left the room to retrieve some added delights for their lovemaking...a bowlful of fresh fruit, some of her birthday Chateau d'Yquem in a bucket of ice, two wine glasses, a can of whipped cream, and a bottle of chocolate syrup. He placed the items on a bar tray, then wheeled them into the bedroom. He set the wine and ice on the other nightstand, the glasses beside it, the cream and syrup between the oil and candles on the first nightstand, and the bowl of fruit on the bed.

Clarice caught a whiff of the fruit right away. There were sliced mangoes, kiwi, peaches, and some strawberries Hannibal had trimmed and left whole. "Mmmmm, what're you doing with the fruit salad?" she teased.

In reply, he took a sweet, ripe slice of mango and began sliding it over and between her bare breasts. As he did this, his soft tongue lapped up the juice it left behind. He brought the mango slice to her lips, letting her take a bite before placing it in her hand and guiding it to his lips. Their mango-scented fingers now brushed over their lips, and simultaneously they licked and sucked the sweetness from them.

Next he took a large, red strawberry from the bowl and held it to her lips. He let her finish the strawberry, then guided her hand to the bowl. She took a slice of peach, sliding it over his chest before it reached his lips. He sensuously sucked the peach from her hand, then licked and nibbled her peach-sticky fingers before leaning down for more passionate kisses, the fruit salad of their mouths further fueling their passion.

Done with the fruit for now, Hannibal placed the bowl next to the wine bucket. Then he reached for an ice cube.

The ice felt hot on Clarice's aroused flesh. Hannibal started at her chin, slowly sliding it down her neck and shoulderblades, causing her to gasp with this delicious new sensation. "Babe, what is that?" she sighed breathlessly, the ice cube now sliding between her breasts. He rolled the ice over her sternum and slid it over her breasts, her nipples, causing them to become hard...causing the blissful ache between her thighs to grow more and more intense.

"Would you like me to go further, Clarice?"

"Ohhhh, God..."

Taking that as a yes, Hannibal slid the ice cube down her stomach...down to her mound. "Ohhh," she gasped when the ice cube touched her labia, causing spasms deep inside. When he touched the ice cube to her clitoris, she screamed. "Babe, fuck me!" she wailed, her fingertips parting her labia now.

He took the ice-cube away, letting her come back down to Earth...then he took her hands away. "Not yet, my love," he whispered, moving back on top of her. He lay between her spread legs, and began kissing his way down her body, the tongue bath slow and sensual. As in the dreams, he avoided her anus without even asking, sensing that she would not like that. He certainly didn't, not after hearing Benjamin Raspail's vivid descriptions of sex with his boyfriends. His fascination with "eating ass" and "taking dicks up the ass" had often made Hannibal physically sick...but that was just a passing though as he caressed his beautiful Clarice.

Tickling and licking the small butterfly on her ankle gave her a particular thrill...it was as though the tattoo needle had made the area much more sensitive to touch. Of course, the blindfold made Clarice that much more responsive. "Baby, please," she pleaded, her need building into a frenzy now. Ever teasing, he kept her teetering on the edge a little longer.

He now kissed back up her body, up her torso, his tongue trailing languidly and lusciously up her stomach. "Oh, God," she sighed.

His tongue proceeded further up, tickling and licking her sternum. She still tasted like mango, the sweet sticky juice mingling with her woman-scent and her perfume, driving him wild with lust. After licking the mango from her breasts, he savored her aching, hypersensitive nipples, which became harder with every nipping, nuzzling kiss. She could feel his lips, tongue and teeth on them, electrical currents coursing through to the quick of her body and soul. Without her clitoris being stimulated, without his fingers, or his cock, inside her, she could feel the beginnings of orgasm already.

"Ohhhhh," she rasped, hungry for more.

Hannibal now kissed further up, flicking and licking her shoulders, her neck, further building up her arousal. Upon reaching her neck, he clamped his lips down and nuzzled harder, his love bite leaving its' mark, the pain overruled by the pleasure of their lovemaking. "Mmmhh," she sighed, holding his head to her neck, enjoying the hickey being bitten in. His lips left her neck, his tongue and lips nuzzling her chin, her ears, prolonging her ever-growing sensations. Finally, he removed the blindfold, sensing that the buildup was more than she could stand. His eyes held her briefly as their lips and bodies crushed back together. During this exchange of tongues and saliva, her hips rocked against his for release.

Now she saw the ocean of candles in the room, the sensual glow they imparted while she and Hannibal were making love. She also saw the bowl of fruit, the wine, the massage oil...and the chocolate syrup and whipped cream. Now seized by cunnilingual desire, Hannibal once again retrieved the bowl of fruit. Clarice grinned as he covered her nipples with kiwi slices, then began an alternating trail of mango and peach from her sternum to her mound. "Ooohh," she purred when he slipped a strawberry in her opening, between her labia, "somebody's making a sundae." Hannibal grinned back.

"You know me well, my love," he purred as he reached for the chocolate syrup. "You don't mind, do you?" he now asked as he drizzled the syrup over her breasts and stomach, then a little over her cunt. "I've always fantasized about going down on a woman like this..."

"That's okay," she replied. "I've always wanted a guy to eat my pussy like this..."

Hannibal now squirted whipped cream on her breasts, a little on her stomach, then a squirt just above her clitoris. "Then we'll both get what we've always wanted," he sighed as he put the fruit, syrup and cream away. Then, hovering over her, he began eating the fruit and licking the cream and syrup off her trembling body, not minding that some of it was getting on him.

Clarice trusted him completely, knowing he was never putting her in danger as he ate the "sundae" he had just built on her. "Oh, yes," she sighed, her nipples becoming more and more raw, her cunt throbbing a mile a minute. He took his sweet time, prolonging her pleasure, throwing himself into this worshipful act of love...finally, he had kissed down to her cunt, sucking the strawberry from her labia. She reached down and parted her labia once more, and this time he did not back away.

"Oh, God!" she screamed when his tongue finally touched her cunt, swirling and probing her with passionate precision. He started at her outer labia, licking and nibbling the syrup and cream off before inhaling the natural sweetness...then drinking it. His mouth now formed a seal around her cunt, his lips sucking her clitoris as his tongue probed between her inner labia, then thrust into her opening. And Hannibal Lecter had a very long tongue...

Finally, his fingers reentered her, massaging her G-spot as his tongue attacked her clitoris, her hips now grinding to his face...even bouncing off the bed. Finally, she could hold back no longer.

"Aaaaaaaaauuuuuuhhhhhh!!! Aaaaaauuuuhhhh!!! Ohhhhhh!!!" she wailed, tears of delight pouring from her eyes, the raging chain of orgasms attacking her now. "Ohhhhhhh, Hannibal!!! Oh, God, Hannibal, YES!!! YES!!! Aaaaauuuuuhhhh...aaaaaauuuuuuhhhhhhh!!! AAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

Clarice could not believe how intense the orgasms really were. Sure, she'd come after rubbing her clitoris, but never with this much force. She hadn't even known she'd had a G-spot until Hannibal found it...causing her to come so hard that his face was now drenched with her juices.

He drank from her cup some more, then kissed his way back up her body. "Oh, God, babe, that was so good," she wept as he kissed her tears away. When he kissed her lips once more, she once again tasted herself, her sweet female honey acting as an aphrodisiac...reviving her for more.

Now he let her relax, reaching for the warm massage oil. She smelled the vanilla-amber scent as he dribbled some onto her stomach. Then, kneeling between her spread legs, he began massaging the oil into her flesh.

Clarice closed her eyes and submitted herself to the massage, enjoying his soft hands kneading and rubbing until the oil absorbed into her skin."

"Mmmmmmm, yes," she sighed, relaxing completely. She looked up at him and smiled when he massaged her legs, one at a time, his tongue darting over her calves and ankles as he worked the oil in. When he massaged each leg, he held them against his chest, the soft chest hair tickling her. His still-erect penis lay on top of her juicy mound, his balls rubbed up against her labia and clitoris. She now saw the full size of his penis, realizing that he really was so well-endowed, and reached toward him. He stopped massaging her legs when she began stroking him.

Now it was time for something else.

Hannibal lay on his back, pulling Clarice on top of him so she could return the pleasure she had just experienced. She began with the hot oil massage, working the oil into his every muscle before giving him his tongue bath. As in the dreams, his nipples ached as she ravished his lightly hairy chest with hungry, hot kisses, burying her face in his chest hair to drink in his scent. She then ran her tongue over his ribcage and washboard stomach, her fingers pinching his nipples as she licked and flicked her tongue over and into his navel. Then, kissing back up, she reached over for the chocolate syrup, drizzling it over his chest and stomach, then onto the head of his penis before resuming the erotic tongue bath.

After prolonging his pleasure, after licking the syrup from his chest and stomach, she finally reached his cock. Slowly, languidly, she licked the syrup off the glans, then began to slowly lick up and down the long shaft, building up his own fire. Finally, sliding between his legs, she engulfed him with her mouth. Just as he had suspected, Clarice was a marvelous fellatrix. Just like in his dreams, she knew how to press his every button. She stopped sucking him awhile, her oiled right hand still stroking him as she kissed and licked his smooth balls. The sensations were even better than his dreams, and didn't die when she paused to wet her thumb.

The next thing he felt was her thumb on his prostate, massaging the tiny patch of skin between his balls and anus with a sensual, circular motion. This sent him into orbit. "Mmmmmmmmmmm, Clarice," he gasped, holding his cock back to her lips as she rubbed the sensitive patch. She didn't have to be asked twice, taking him back into her mouth. This was better than any dream, his entire body surrendering to her, his hips now bouncing off the bed in sobbing release. "Ohhhhhhh, Clarice," he wailed, unable to hold himself in, "mmmmmmhhhh...oooohhh, yes! Yes!!!"

Finally..."Aaaaaaaauuuuuuhhhhhh!!!" he screamed, his orgasm burning his balls and penis, even the quick of his body. "Aaaaaauuuuuuhhhh!!! Aaaaaaauuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhh, CLARIIIIIIIIIIIICCCCCCCCCCCCCEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

His come blasted into her mouth, onto her face, with every scream, and Clarice drank every drop. She enjoyed the sweet-salty taste and the sticky heat that accompanied it, enjoying his pleasure as he had hers. When he finished ejaculating, he was still so aroused that he was able to maintain his erection. Also, he was only momentarily satiated...already he wanted more.

After a brief rest, Hannibal rose up long enough to open the drawer of his nightstand once again. He produced a bottle of Astroglide lubricant, then closed the drawer before moving back between her legs. He gave her the bottle, the she dribbled some of the lubricant onto his hard cock, rubbing him slippery before placing the bottle onto the nightstand.

She lay back down, pulling him on top as their lips met once more. "Babe, I love you," she sighed between kisses.

"Oh, Clarice, I love you, too," he replied huskily, guiding his penis to her warm, wet cunt. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Slowly, joyously, Hannibal thrust forward, filling her with all eight inches. Without asking, he knew from their shared dreams that she preferred to be fucked raw, to feel skin rubbing with skin as they made love. He did not disappoint her.

Hannibal and Clarice tried every position imaginable, making love all afternoon and all night, neither of them sleeping a wink. They didn't just limit their lovemaking to the bedroom, either.

In the "drop-catch" position, he carried her throughout the house, his penis jabbing her G-spot with every step he took, causing her to howl with delight. First they went to the bathroom, where he sat her on the wide, shelved sink, crossing her legs together and propping them against his chest as he thrust deeply, holding her by her hips and fucking her to one sweet release after another. Then they went to the hall, where they leaned against the wall a few moments before going to the living room. He then sat on the sofa, propping her legs over his shoulders and holding her in his lap as he continued filling and fucking her. They next stood against the harpsichord, where he entered her doggy-style before picking her back up in the "drop-catch" and took her back to bed.

They finished off in the missionary, their screams and cries of passion filling the house, his hot seed blasting inside her. Just as in their dreams, his cries matched hers in ferocity and volume, their shared orgasms burning through their souls...the joining of their bodies, at long last, as beautiful and blissful as they had hoped.

Hannibal and Clarice fell asleep not long afterward, side by side on the large oak four-poster bed. Their first time making love had been everything they had dreamed of...and much, much more. As they lay under the silken sheets, the candles blown out, arms and legs wrapped around one another, the glow of their love encouraged a most blissful, dreamless sleep.

Memories of Mischa would not interrupt his rest; nightmares of her father would not disturb hers.

At Buzzard's Point, Paul Krendler made every effort to cover up Clarice's disappearance. He claimed that, officially, "Dr Lecter and former Agent Starling have, apparently, left the country. Where they are at, nobody knows at this time. We'll keep you posted."

Jack Crawford, still in ICU after his heart attack, didn't buy it. Nor did Ardelia Mapp, who conducted her own investigation. Questioning Barney Jackson had brought no answers, so she decided to put pressure on Margot Verger and her girlfriend, Judy.

Remembering her role in her brother Mason's death, Margot was no help to Ardelia whatsoever. "I'm sorry, Ms. Mapp," she said. "I wasn't anywhere near Muskrat Farm when Dr. Lecter was here. I sure as shit didn't know about your friend, Ms. Starling, coming here after him...not until after I found my brother dead." Judy corroborated Margot's story, and Ardelia realized she was just wasting her time. She left Muskrat Farm, never to return.

Where could Clarice have gone to? Ardelia began thinking. What would Lecter have done with her? When she got home, she went into the files on Hannibal. On the FBI site, as well as Interpol, she got into the records of his stay in Italy. She soon received the shock of her life.

One of his frequent purchases was a cologne spray, Vetivera di Amoro, that was unavailable in the United States. Among the ingredients were bitter orange, musk, leather essence, vetiver, and sandalwood. She then remembered Clarice's "unisex musk," and realized that she had detected similar notes. Going on her hunch, Ardelia went to the website of the Italian company that produced it, then ordered a bottle from the Internet with her Visa card. When it arrived two days later, she went to the New Age shop.

Under questioning, the owner of the shop admitted that Clarice's "unisex musk" was, in fact, a homemade recreation of Hannibal's Vetivera di Amoro. She even made a bottle for Ardelia to compare with the bottle from Italy. They smelled exactly the same.

Ardelia's mind reeled with even more questions as she returned to the duplex. If Lecter contacted her before this, why would she lie to me? This isn't like her...

Curious, she went into Clarice's bedroom. Before leaving for Muskrat Farm, never to return, Clarice had taken all of the cologne and oil bottles, and all evidence of her last letter from Hannibal, with her...but the scent of the Vetivera di Amoro still lingered on her bedsheets. Ardelia thought she saw something underneath the covers, and threw them back.

The cologne hit Ardelia's nostrils with full force, but there was nothing under the covers...then Ardelia found some dried spots on the fitted sheet. They were recent, and hadn't been dry for very long. Several nights earlier, she had wondered if Clarice's screams were caused by returning nightmares.

Clarice had actually begun masturbating, something she had never done before.

"Is Lecter turning her on, or something?" she asked herself now. Ardelia went into the hall, grabbed the stepladder, and explored her closet. Again, the Vetivera di Amoro. Ardelia couldn't believe it...nor could she believe what had secretly happened to her best friend.

"That BITCH!!! That FUCKING BITCH!!!"

Now, against her better judgement, Ardelia Mapp had begun to realize why Paul Krendler hated Clarice so much...and why, now, she was beginning to hate her as well. Ardelia picked up the phone and placed a call to Krendler's office.

Krendler answered, and was surprised to hear Ardelia on the other line. "Ms. Mapp, I thought you were looking for your friend," Krendler asked, his venom toward Clarice still at fever pitch.

"She's no friend of mine, Mr. Krendler," Ardelia now said. "Not anymore...I think you'd better listen to what I'm about to say, and by God, I hope your ass is in the nearest chair." With those words, Ardelia began selling Clarice out.

Back at the beach house, Clarice and Hannibal made breakfast. He now wore black silk boxer-briefs, while she had on only her ice-blue gown, and to his great delight she was as good a cook as he.

"Hey, I'm used to doing that," he cooed, nuzzling her neck and embracing her from behind as she gently scrambled their eggs with a good bit of butter. "Those eggs smell wonderful..."

"I'm not the best cook in the world," she admitted, "but you've done so much for me, I figured I owed you one..."

"All you owe me is the chance to love you. And I've always loved you, Clarice..."

"Mmm, Hannibal, I love you, too. It just took me a long time to realize how much."

"All is forgiven."

Over their scrambled eggs, cappucino, orange juice, buttered English muffins and fruit they discussed what to do about Krendler. "It won't be easy nailin' his ass to the cross, Hannibal," she now said.

"Nothing ever is, babe," he purred, calling her by the sweet nickname she had given him in the last few days. "But won't it feel good to, once and for all, wipe him out of our lives, Clarice? Especially yours?"

Clarice smiled at that thought. "Yes, it will. You have no idea what that sonofabitch has put me through the last few years..."

"Well, you did tell him to go back to his wife when he tried to fuck you. That was most admirable...it's a pity he used that to make your life such Hell."

"Tell me about it. Not a day went by that he didn't come up with new ways to insult me, new ways to fuck up my records."

"Common country cunt, for one?"

"Ditto. There was also cornpone pussy and his all-time favorite...Goddamn egotistical bitch. He had a million of them, babe."

Just then, Hannibal came up with an idea. "Clarice," he began, rising from the table to retrieve the bar cart, "let's take our breakfast into the den. Feel like watching the morning news?"

"Sure," she replied, helping him put their breakfast and drinks on the cart. "Why?"

Hannibal leaned over and softly kissed her lips. "Call it a hunch, but I think your buddy's going to be on. Let's hear what he has to say."

After setting their breakfast on the coffee table in front of the sofa, Hannibal picked up the clicker and turned the TV to CNN. Then he and Clarice cuddled close together on the sofa, awaiting the latest word from Krendler's office...

TO BE CONTINUED...

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