Look for story information in part 1.
Erik and Charles sat in the large double bed in Charles' bedroom,
dressed for the night, reading a paper each.
They were quiet with their attention focused on what they read.
Erik was reading New York Times. Charles Xavier read a psychiatric
Doctor Lecter had asked to borrow something to read earlier the
same evening. Charles had lent him some of his own books, plus some
elder copies of the same magazine he was reading now.
It had been a pure mark of courtesy. Charles did not know if
Hannibal Lecter read the same things as he did himself, but he had
gladly accepted the books and magazines.
All Charles wanted was to keep Lecter in a good mood.
The time was approaching midnight. Suddenly Erik put his newspaper
away. He leaned closer to Charles and gently placed his hand on his
- It is getting late, darling, he said quietly. Shouldn't you put
that away soon?
Charles sighed, but then he glanced at the wall clock himself.
- Yes. I suppose you're right, he admitted shortly. It is late.
Maybe I should try to sleep.
He put the magazine away and then reached for the switch to his
night lamp to turn it off.
Erik moved closer to him, and put his arm around his shoulders.
- Charles, you seem tensed, he said softly and rubbed Charles'
back. Maybe you should try to relax a bit, huh...
He started placing little, light kisses on the side of Charles'
neck, and slowly his hand began to search its way in under Xavier's
pyjama shirt. He found a nipple and started rubbing it with his
- Stop it! Charles hisses almost instantly and threw Erik's hand
- I... I thought we could make love... Erik murmured, both
surprised and confused at the other's reaction.
Charles inhaled deeply and then said calmly, but with clears signs
- Do you actually think that I can relax enough to have sex when a
psychotic serial killer is running around in my house, among my
- You seem tensed. I thought sex might make you relax... and think
of other things than...-
- Relax? I won't be able to do that as long as Lecter stays in the
house. Buy anyway, I am not in the mood for that now. Leave me alone.
- And then you're mad at me, Erik stated.
- Yes, that too, Charles admitted. I believe you have been
thoughtless and irresponsible.
- By bringing doctor Lecter? Erik asked.
- Why? He needed help. I thought you would like to help him. Why
don't you want to? It is only for a couple of days.
- Why I don't want to? I'll tell you that. He is a killer, Erik. A
criminal. A psychotic lunatic, and I do not consider it our thing to
help him. I don't even feel he deserves our help. He should be
imprisoned. The man is dangerous.
- And what do you mean by that? exclaimed Erik, who also started to
fly into a rage. What right have you to judge him? What do you *know*
about him, really? What right have you to call him a psychotic
- Erik, he is a murderer...
- Yes, but do you even know why? He might have good reasons.
Charles Xavier sighed again. - My dear Erik, he has turned your
head! Hannibal Lecter is a very manipulative person. Really, what has
he told you? That he is not a killer? That he acted in self-defence?
And you took it all in, I see.
- He never said anything like that! Erik snapped. And I can think
on my own, he hasn't turned my head! But you're right, I do not
believe in all the terrible things that media screams about him. I
don't think he is a cold-blooded killer. He could actually have
killed me, but he didn't.
- And now you have to thank him for it, you mean? Because he had
mercy on you? Charles asked.
- You don't understand! Or then you don't want to. What is the
matter with you, Charles? You are not usually like this. What do you
have against doctor Lecter? Why don't you want to help him?
- I have tried to tell you why...-
- Is it because of his background? Because he has killed? That
doesn't usually stop you from giving help. Logan, for example. He
cannot remember his past, but everything indicates that he used to be
a soldier, a killer machine for the government. I bet he has killed,
Charles. He might not remember it, but that does not make it undone.
He might have tortured people. Women and children...
- Erik, stop! You cannot compare Logan to Hannibal Lecter!
- Why can't I? Erik said coldly. Logan has not hurt anyone here.
Except for me that time, but we can overlook that. Doctor Lecter gave
you his word not to hurt your students. Isn't that enough?
- But that is a completely different ...-
- And what about me, Charles? Magneto continued. Almost all of the
American people see me as a terrorist. I see myself as a mutant
rights activist, but the "normies" see a terrorist.
- Erik, you are not evil. You did it for your people, even though
- And what do you mean those who blew up World Trade Centre last
year did? Erik said acidly.
- That was crude, Erik.
- Crude? Why? It is true. They believed they did the right thing,
that they were helping their people. That they were heroes.
- What exactly is your point?
- I think that you should give doctor Lecter a chance. That is all.
- I *have* given him a chance, Charles said. I wonder now if that
was a good idea, because it might already be too late if he hurts
- Have you read his mind? Erik asked and his eyes narrowed.
Xavier shook his head. - No, not at all.
- Then *how* do you know he will hurt someone?
- Because he is a---
- ...killer? Erik finished with a scornful smile. Yes. Right. Of
course. That tells it all, doesn't it? He is a killer. I didn't
believe this about you, Charles. I thought you were more open minded
and tolerant. But you are not. How could you fool me throughout all
Charles said nothing. He only looked at his lover with pleading,
overcome eyes, and wondered what had made the argument go this far.
He loved Erik, and despite that this Lecter-thing went on his nerves,
he did not want to fall out with Charles.
- Well, well, Magneto began again. If you do not want a serial
killer in your house, you surely don't want a terrorist in your bed.
I actually think I am going to lie down on the sofa over there.
After having finished the sentence, and before Charles could
object, Erik jumped out of bed, and started collecting his pillows,
quilts and sheets, to do as he said and move to the sofa.
For a moment Charles was so dumbfounded that he couldn't even make
a sound. Then he collected himself again and managed to lean out and
grab Erik by the wrist.
- Don't be foolish, Erik, he said in a strained voice. Don't be
silly. Come here and lie down now.
But Erik tore loose instead of lying down again, and gave Charles a
bitter and angry look from his eyes.
- I think this is best, Charles, he said in a dull voice and then
walked right across the room to lie down on the sofa. Charles looked
after him, but didn't make any further objections. When Erik was in
this kind of mood, it would not do any good.
The best thing was to let him do as he pleased.
He watched as his lover and formed bedmate made himself a bed on
the sofa, and then laid down there, without either looking at Charles
or saying anything.
Charles turned off Erik's night lamp at last, and closed his eyes.
He thought a little about perhaps creating a telepathic contact to
Erik, but he didn't go through with the idea. Not even that would
help. Erik would only accuse him of "sneaking around in his head".
Charles Xavier felt all but good when he finally managed to go to
sleep, 0:50 A.M.
The last thing he thought of before he dozed off to sleep was if
Erik was asleep yet.
Hannibal Lecter lay in the bed inside the room which had been
assigned to him at the Xavier-institute. He lay absolutely still and
quiet, but he wasn't sleeping.
The room was dark. All lights were turned off and the curtains were
The doctor lay on his back in the bed, listening. One could have
believed he was listening to sweet music, or perhaps something from
his past which he stored in his excellent memory palace, but that was
not the case. He was listening to a conversation.
The conversation went on between two men - Erik Lehnsherr and
Charles Xavier. They were arguing. They raised their voices and
sounded very upset at times.
The sounds which doctor Lecter heard travelled through the
ventilation systems, and were unusually clear. And as he, despite his
extremely sharp hearing, maybe not grasped every single word, he had
more than well managed to comprehend the subject of the argument.
They argued about him. Hannibal wasn't too surprised. He knew as
soon as he arrived that he really wasn't welcome here. Charles Xavier
did not want him here, and yet he had allowed him to stay.
Erik Lehnsherr had been right about something; Xavier was a kind-
hearted and just man, and although doctor Lecter didn't exactly like
him, he respected him, and was going to keep the promise he gave him,
if only it was possible to keep.
The argument went on for another while. Hannibal could hear Erik
shout. Yes, he shouted. His usual calm voice burst and he finally
sounded like a crowing cockerel.
Doctor Lecter smiled to himself in the bed. Who could have believed
the scrawny old man had such spirits? Maybe he had misjudged Erik
Lehnsherr. The shy and timid attitude which he showed at the
university, was maybe just a disguise? Erik seemed to make his voice
heard when needed.
Right now he was defending Hannibal. Charles Xavier called him a
killer. Erik Lehnsherr contradicted.
When Erik finally became so angry that he decided to go and lie
down on the sofa, Hannibal had to fight back laughter.
The two men acted like two little kids. He hoped that his choked
laughter did not sound back to Charles and Erik.
After some time the voices in air regulator quietened. The argument
had obviously ceased. The doctor wondered if Erik had really lain
down on the sofa.
Hannibal decided not to think about that anymore. Instead he
started thinking about someone else he'd met here today.
Ororo Munroe, the woman with the flowing white hair. Immediately he
felt better. He liked thinking about her. He liked to watch her move
before his eyes, and to follow her with his gaze.
Usually he thought about Clarice Starling when he was bored, but
the images of Ororo were fresher, and Clarice had to yield for this
She was really stunningly beautiful. Almost perfect. And her hair
*was* genuine, he was sure of that now.
Hannibal Lecter did not often observe a woman's beauty like that.
Surely he saw beautiful women everywhere, every day, but rarely
anyone who was as remarkable as Ororo Munroe.
Do I like her? thought doctor Lecter. No. Or yes, maybe. It would
be interesting getting to know her.
She was actually one of the reasons why he chose to stay at the
Xavier-institute. But he didn't want to admit that. Yet.