Dr. Lecter, panties and pics

Dr. Lecter and Clarice laid beside each other on their king-sized bed, her head resting on his arm. Pale moonlight streamed through the windows, filtered by the bice blue curtains. The only artificial light source in the room was the digital clock on the bedside table, the numbers 330 and the colon between the 3's glowing in deep red color, piercing the semi-darkness. It was cold outside but their bodies were hot and sweaty, courtesy of the amorous activities they had been involved in throughout the night.

Clarice got up lazily and retrieved a modest robe from the armoire. Donning it gracefully, she asked, ''I'm going to get some water. You want anything, honey?''

Dr. Lecter rolled to his side and answered, ''Actually, yes. Would you be a dear and remove that robe? It is hindering the view I'd very much like to enjoy.''

Her cheeks flushed crimson as she shook her head and tied the robe, ignoring his request.

Dr. Lecter sighed. ''I never should have bought those Parisian robes for you. You have no need of them.''

''Oh really? You want me walking around in my underwear in the morning?''

His lips curled up, mischief dancing in his eyes as he replied, ''Now that I think about it, you have no need of under garments as well. Why don't you get rid of them?'' His voice was both soft and hoarse at the same time.

She looked down at the ripped negligee and lace brassiere lying on the carpet beside the bed, Dr. Lecter following her eyes. ''I don't have to. At this rate, I'll be running out of underwear very soon.''

His throaty laugh echoed off the walls of the room. She turned and walked out of the room toward the kitchen to quench her thirst.

When she came back, she saw Dr. Lecter sitting against the headboard, his fingers moving on his phone's screen. She settled herself beside him and asked, ''Checking your mail?''

He shook his head. ''I've got three new reviews for my story,'' he said, handing her the phone.

Clarice read the reviews. They weren't as bad as the flame he'd received the previous day but they weren't positive either.

''Not a single word of praise. I thought my story would create waves in the world of fanfiction. It's…disappointing.''

Seeing him so dejected dampened her mood as well. She'd predicted that something like this would happen but that hadn't prepared her for this. He was taking it far too seriously. She should have known better before extending the stupid challenge. She knew saying words of comfort wouldn't lift his spirits. He was a rational person. She decided to appeal to his logic.

Her voice was soothing as she said, ''Don't feel so bad, Hannibal. So what if some people didn't like your story? Since when does Hannibal Lecter care about what people think about him or what he does, huh?''

Looking at her he replied, ''I don't. It's just that this is the first time...this is the first time I've failed at something.''

"You haven't failed! You've hardly even tried. It was your first attempt. Give it another try."

"Oh, I don't know."

"Pleeeeeeeeeeease," she pleaded. "For me."

Dr. Lecter smiled. His Clarice wouldn't allow him to give up. "Okay, Clarice. I'll give it another try."

Her delight at his words was short-lived as he quickly added, "But only if you teach me first."

"What?"

"You heard me."

A small pause.

"Let me get this straight. You, Hannibal Lecter want me, Clarice Lecter to teach you how to write a fic."

He nodded.

"Well, I don't think that's a good idea, Hannibal."

Her reaction wasn't what he'd expected but he didn't show his disappointment. "May I ask why?"

"It's just that...I don't think...I have the...ability to...um...cope with your...talent."

The lie detector in his mind flashed red and he narrowed his eyes. "Out with the truth now!" he commanded in his dungeon voice, making her shudder.

"Fine. I think you'll be all arrogant and condescending and a giant pain in the ass as a student, and I don't want to deal with that," she uttered in a single breath.

They stared at each other for a long time before he muttered, "I understand" and lied down, facing away from her.

Clarice was stunned at his reaction. She'd expected a mocking comeback or at least a vehement denial of the accusatory words she'd used.

"You're okay with this?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"Yes," he replied, his voice devoid of emotions.

She lied down and pulled the comforter over them. Her last thought as she surrendered to sleep was "What's with the quite acceptance? It's not like him to give up so easily."

She was right. Dr. Lecter had a plan.


A heavenly odor woke her from her sleep and she recognized it instantly.

Mmm. Bacon.

Her nose led her to the kitchen where she found Dr. Lecter frying about ten strips of bacon in a cast iron pan.

"What are you doing?" she asked, stunned.

Looking up, he gave her a sly smile. "Cooking bacon."

"In the pan? You always use the oven. You never cook bacon in the pan! You say it's unhealthy."

He shrugged. "Meh. Exceptions can be made every now and then."

What's he up to? Think, Clarice, think. Ohhhh...

"Hannibal, I know what you're up to," she announced, satisfied with the conclusion she'd drawn.

"What am I up to, my dear?" he asked innocently while turning over the strips one by one with a tong.

The sight of perfect, crispy bacon strips in addition with the aroma wafting through the air made her mouth water. Diverting her eyes from the pan, she said, "You're trying to bribe me, aren't you? You want me to teach you how to write a fic and for that, you're using my favorite food against me."

"Is it working, Clarice?" he asked bluntly.

She swallowed mouthful of saliva before answering, "No, it isn't! You should be ashamed using..." Her voice died in her throat as she saw Dr. Lecter transfer the gorgeous red strips directly to a plate.

"Umm Hannibal, aren't you gonna use a paper towel to get rid of the excess grease?"

"And lessen the taste? Now why would I do that?"

Her eyes went wide as she blurted, "Who are you and what have you done to my husband?"

Dr. Lecter chuckled and picked up a crispy strip. But before he could bring it to his mouth, her voice interrupted, "What are you doing? I thought you made it for me."

"I did but since it's not working...," he trailed off as he made a show of taking a bite and chewing excruciatingly slowly, producing appreciating sounds deep in his throat.

"It is working, alright. You win. Now gimme my bacon!" she exclaimed and without further delay, snatched the plate from him.

Clarice was too busy devouring the greasy bacon to notice his smug smile.

That was too easy.


"I've two conditions. Number one, you will not be condescending to me during the whole endeavor and number two, you'll follow all my directions blindly. No argument will be entertained. The conditions are non-negotiable. Do you accept them?"

He nodded in approval but she could see that maroon glint in his eyes. That gleam which screamed, ''So you think you're smarter than me? We'll see about that.''

''I don't believe you.''

He sighed. "Clarice, I give you my word that I won't patronize you and I'll follow your directions blindly. Happy now?"

She wanted to believe him but doubt had crept into her mind and it wouldn't leave without tangible assurance. How could she obtain solid assurance from this man? She thought for a few moments…

Eureka.

She walked up to him, took his hand and led him to the bedroom. Once there, she asked him to sit on the bed while she opened a drawer in the armoire and retrieved something. She turned around to face him, her hands behind her back, hiding whatever she'd retrieved from his field of vision.

Looking into his eyes, she ordered, ''Strip.''

A smirk. ''Now who's insatiable?''

He stripped down to his boxers and stopped. She raised an eyebrow and gestured toward his boxers with her head.

''Very well, '' he said, slowly removing the last piece of clothing.

He lunged forward, attempting to grab a hold of her. She stopped his movement by placing a hand on his bare, well-muscled chest. ''Hold on tiger.'' Her voice was silky soft as she continued, ''Turn around and put these on.'' Her other hand carrying her pink silk lace panties came into view.

Before he could protest, she said in a soft voice, ''I'll get a real kick out of this.''

''I didn't know you were this kinky.'' He took the panties she offered and shrugged muttering, ''Whatever floats your boat.''

He turned around and donned the panties.

Whoa! Now that's a pleasant surprise. They are so comfortable! I can wear them all day long.

A camera shutter sound invaded his musings. He turned around and was blinded by a flash.

His hands flew to protect his eyes. ''Clarice! What are you doing?''

''Now I've something I can blackmail you with if things don't go my way. One condescending word and these photos will be all over the internet,'' she said holding the phone with the recently taken pics in front of his eyes. The pic showed his backside, pink fabric covering his ass. She swiped her finger across the screen and another pic appeared. This one showed a dazed and confused looking Dr. Lecter, eyes covered by hands, wearing nothing but silk lace panties.

He was dumbstruck at her cunning.

"Meet me in the study in an hour for the first lecture. And one more thing…" She brought her mouth to his ear and whispered, "Pink suits you." She slapped his buttocks and left the room with a big, satisfied smile.

Dr. Lecter growled and ripped the panties off.


Dr. Lecter was sitting on the couch in his study, a pen in his hand and a notebook open on his thighs, as he watched Clarice write 'Introduction' at the top of the whiteboard.

She turned around, in full 'professor' mode, beginning the lecture. "Before we dive into more complex issues and problems, let's get our basics right. Let us take a moment and ask ourselves what is fanfiction?"

"Fanfiction is the..."

"Students must raise their hands and wait for my acknowledgement before speaking," she said sternly.

The expression on his face was priceless.

"Clarice, heh, there's no other student. I'm the only..."

"Students must not talk back and address me as 'Mrs. Lecter' only as a symbol of their respect," she announced. She was having a hard time choking back a laugh.

This is so much fun.

Dr. Lecter stared at her for a long time before raising his hand slowly, his eyes boring into hers.

"Hannibal, would you like to answer the question?" she asked in a sing-song tone.

"Yes, Mrs. Lecter. Fanfiction is the most popular form of fan labor which fans of any original work use to express their thought processes in the form of a piece of writing involving the characters of the original..."

Her loud snoring interrupted him.

"Boooooooooooring. That's the crux of your problem, Hannibal. Your answer is technically correct but no one will read it till the end because it's boring. Boring with a capital B! Fanfiction readers don't care much about technicalities you see. That's the beauty of fanfiction. As long as you have an interesting story to tell, readers will forgive the grammatical errors and spelling mistakes and mind-boggling plot twists and turns and other technicalities. The key to writing a good fic is to be creative in your approach and engaging in your style."

His eyes were fixed on hers while his hands were busy taking notes.

"The bottom line is to be creative. Let me show you with an example. You must be familiar with Abraham Lincoln's definition of democracy. Would you say it aloud?"

"Democracy is the government of the people, for the people and by the people," he quoted Lincoln.

"Good. Now I'll use this original quote and give it a twist to define fanfiction."

She paused for effect before continuing, "Fanfiction is the fiction of the fans, for the fans and by the fans. See? That's what fanfiction is all about. Being creative."

Dr. Lecter was impressed. He remembered the fics he'd read on Wednesday night, and for the first time recognized the creativity of the writers.


A/N: Dr. Lecter in panties! I hope I didn't spoil him for anybody. On a more serious note, the next chapter will take at least a fortnight. I have a lot of tests coming up.