Disclaimer: Sadly, these characters do not belong to me although I wish they do. They belong to the talented Mr. Harris and the scenes are from my own messed up mind! Enjoy… P.S. I'm in the process of completing the next chapters. Ta-ta.

AquaPrincess88

Ex-Special Agent Clarice Starling. He would have like the ring to that. She could picture his expression and hear the accented words in his steely voice.* Afraid you'll upset your Daddy? The dead night watchman?* She shuddered. That voice would haunt her until the day she died. Clarice stood up from her soon-to-be vacant desk. Her various items of stationary and pictures filled up a Xerographic box. A hazy gray folder was thrown carelessly on top. At a closer look, we can see Hannibal Lecter's file. It is not as filled as it once was, but it has all of the necessities. She picked up the box and walked out past the curtain. She looked back one last time at the light box that held Dr. Lecter's hard expression in a photograph. She could hear him. * Hello Clarice*

She turned around out of habit preparing to see his maroon eyes meeting hers. Instead, she saw her old friend Paul Krendler. She sighed and pushed away. " Where ya going Starling? Being suspended doesn't mean you're off the force." He had it rub it in. "Suspended." He loved having power over Starling. Hell, it was all he had over her ever since she told him to go home to his wife.

"Well, Mr. Krendler, if you keep suspending me, and might I remind you this is the second time this year, I might come to the conclusion that I am off. Mr. Krendler, I am not to be toyed with. I have the opportunity to resign or to come back when you feel that you can reinstate me. What am I supposed to do in the meantime? You of all people know that I have no connection to Hannibal Lecter. Give it up Paul. I know when I am not wanted."

She shook her head and realized she was still staring at the photo. A daydream. Paul was dead. He suffered horribly and lets leave it at that. Poor Paul. No, not poor Paul. Paul was a bastard. She pitied the people who knew Paul. Poor people. Clarice juggled the box with one hand and turned off the light with the other. She wouldn't come back. The guy who took Paul's place was worse.

Thomas March felt he could crack the Lecter case on his own, him being such a big shot detective and all. He suspended her for the knowledge she had that could hurt the bureau. " We'll take you back," he said. " When we're sure its okay and you're not in danger. Probably when we're close to catching Lecter" She chuckled.

He didn't know who she was. He didn't know what her credentials were. He didn't know her relationship with Lecter. She wanted him to be caught, but he was civil to her and she respected that. She would have to leave the force. She could open her own business. Maybe become an investigator. She could look for Lecter on the side.

Clarice passed her old office in the Behavioral Science unit. She look in the well-lit but baron room. Jack Crawford had long since retired and she heard a rumor somewhere that he had passed away. She never kept up on the bureau news. She wanted to talk to him right now. She wanted to tell him what an asshole he had been when he secluded her at the morgue. She could remember the conversation. " It matters Mr. Crawford. They look at that. It matters." He took her away. He wouldn't let her in on the conversation. He briefed her instead of the guys who found the poor girl. Little did he know that it would set a precedent for the rest of Clarice's life. She would never be taken seriously. *Jackie-Boy*

She opened the door. No one bothered to lock it. Just old newspaper clippings. The headlines read various things. "BUFFALO BILL STRIKES AGAIN" was in the Times. "CLARICE STARLING CATCHES BILL WITH HELP FROM AN UNLIKELY SOURCE," read the Post. She took the paper clippings off the wall and put them in the box. She left the room and walked towards the exit.

Clarice punched in her security code to say goodnight to Ardelia Mapp. She still liked to keep in touch with her ever since Starling had gotten her own house. She opened the door to Criminology. Ardelia wasn't there. It looked like she had gone home for the day. Clarice took a piece of her note paper. It read, " From the Desk of Ardelia Mapp." She took a pen, crossed it out and changed it to," From the Desk of Clarice Starling." She wrote a small note and left. She shut the door and waited for it to click shut. Clarice left the Quantico building for what she thought would be the last time.

She arrived home a little after nine. She hauled her box from the car and into the house. She struggled with the screen door. When it finally opened, Clarice dropped the box and kicked it across the floor. It slammed into the wall. She heard something break and a few paint chips fell into the box. She looked away and poured herself a glass of wine. She sat milking it as the hours went by. When just a little was left, she imitated Lecter. She picked the wine glass up to her nose and swished it until the most wonderful aroma reached her nostrils. She put the glass down on the coffee table and went to get the her phone.

An automated voice came over the receiver. "Welcome to Travelocity. If you know your party's extension please dial it at this time." Starling didn't know. She held on and waited. " …..For tickets and destinations please press five." She pressed and listened. One….Three….Five. "You have booked tickets for Paris, France on May 3rd. Please enter your address, name and phone number. Your tickets should arrive in about three weeks. Thank You." She hung up and laid down on her couch, ready for a deep sleep.