Disclaimer: Me no own. Read and review. Apologising in advance for OOCness and DEFINITE fluffiness. There are not enough of those, there is a little angst/hurt/comfort and ROMANCE! : )

She was sure that he didn't remember her. Or, if he did, then he didn't think of her in the same way she thought of him. It wasn't feasible. Why would someone as handsome, as well read, as intelligent, as brilliantly insane as he love someone as her? For Clarice hardly ever looked in the mirror without feeling contempt. She saw herself as ugly, stupid, unworthy of her vocation as an FBI Special Agent.

At night, Clarice always fought with herself, tried to scare herself silly - and, when you're in the FBI, you become less likely to spook - and she failed every night. She had told Barney, six months prior, that Doctor Lecter was with her at least thirty seconds every day, that he was always with her. And she hadn't been lying. She thought of him, every second, of every day.

Given a choice, Clarice would choose someone else to fall in love with. Someone, who, - as amazing as he was - wasn't a cannibalistic serial killer.

You don't remember me but I remember youI lie awake and try so hard not to think of youbut who can decide what they dream?and dream I do...

She believed that he would make his way back to her. After their first kiss, how could he not? He had once said that he wouldn't go after her as he would consider that rude. Clarice knew that to mean going after her as a victim, but did that mean that he wouldn't see her again, face-to-face?

She didn't know why, but that made her slightly depressed. To only ever hear his voice on those illegally - recorded tapes from Chilton. To never see his slender form, to never feel his piercing eyes break through her carefully-put-in-place façade and get her to tell every menial thing that had ever been on her mind with one word.

I believe in youI'll give up everything just to find youI have to be with you to live to breatheyou're taking over me

Being with him all those nights in that prison cell corridor allowed her to feel alive, just seeing him made her feel whole again. She briefly remembered all those sleepless nights bent over papers and computer screens trying to find him, all those revisits of the Baltimore State Prison to see if there were any new leads.

Apart from the fact that Chilton was dead, there was nothing. Clarice had worked out, around the time of discovering that Chilton had died, that Doctor Lecter had eaten him once he had escaped. She felt no revulsion, only gratitude. Not for herself, but for him. Chilton had been horrible to the Doctor, not treating him as a human, but as an animal in captivity. Doctor Lecter is my most prized possession.

As terribly cliché as this sounded, Clarice needed to be near Doctor Lecter to feel like she was worth something. Something, as opposed to being cheap white trash.

have you forgotten all I knowand all we had?you saw me mourning my love for youand touched my handI knew you loved me then

It had been ten years since she had last seen him face to face… had he forgotten every memory, every conversation - length irrelevant - they had ever exchanged? With his brilliant mind, Clarice doubted it, but he had made no move to get into contact with her. Surely he knew that she wouldn't turn him in.

Back when Hannibal had escaped from the Baltimore State Prison and he'd been kept in a cage back in Memphis, he had said six words that had made her heart race: People will say we're in love, and then, just under an hour later, he had slipped his hand through the cage as she had struggled through the officer's hold, finally succeeding and sprinting up to him to grab the case file. As their fingers had touched, Clarice's heart rate went sky-high and Hannibal's exceeded 85 Beats Per Minute. In that moment, she knew that he knew her feelings. I'm in love with Hannibal Lecter.

I believe in you

I'll give up everything just to find youI have to be with you to live to breatheyou're taking over me

Every little part of her was being taken over by a little part of him. For example, she now said 'okey - dokey', and signed off e-mails 'ta-ta'. If Clarice was being honest with herself, she'd even go as far as to say that she'd been consuming a hell of a lot more meat since their last meeting. And, if she was being really honest, she'd even admit that she was a little curious as to the taste of human flesh. But, she'd have to be extraordinarily drunk before she would admit such a thing.

I look in the mirror and see your face

if I look deep enoughso many things inside that are just like you are taking over

On the rare occasions that she did look in the mirror, she would squint and, with her mind's eye, conjure up an image of him to replace her reflection. Thinking of him made her feel safe. The only person she had ever opened up to about this was Ardelia Mapp. She had been sympathetic, but Clarice knew, within her heart, that she didn't fully comprehend what Clarice was telling her. And why should she? Doctor Hannibal Lecter, M.D., wasn't the kind of person one should become infatuated with.

Just last week, Clarice had successfully transferred her memory of him smiling from her mind's eye into the mirror, and she had suddenly got angry at him for leaving her and had calmly poured a glass of water, before her face contorted in agony and she had hurled it at the mirror, the glass shattering everywhere.

She had collapsed to the ground, sobbing hysterically and calling his name softly over and over. Being away from him had broken her. In the worst way possible, Special Agent Clarice M. Starling had become needy of Doctor Hannibal Lecter, M.D., the world's most feared and sought for cannibalistic serial killer.

I believe in youI'll give up everything just to find youI have to be with you to live to breatheyou're taking over me

The feeling of being incomplete was forever with her. When she replayed the tapes of their conversations every night, she felt slightly happier and slightly more fulfilled. She'd go to bed feeling happy, dreaming of him, then wake up sad, depressed, and empty.

She needed to find him, no matter what. No matter the cost, she would find him. Little did she know that it would be he who found her. Nor did she know just how soon that would be.

I believe in youI'll give up everything just to find youI have to be with you to live to breatheyou're taking over me

One particular evening, while Clarice was running the FBI Assault Course in her grey tracksuit, there had been a slight disturbance in the air and a familiar figure had stepped out in front of her, causing her to skid to an abrupt stop before him.

"Well, hello, Clarice. Tell me, have the lambs stopped screaming?" He had then smiled at her, and she had, uncharacteristically though it may have been, collapsed at his feet, silent tears pouring down her face.

Shakily, she had reached out and touched the Gucci material of his trousers, just to make sure he was not an untimely apparition. Upon discovering that he was not, she had looked up at him looking down at her, confusion within his maroon irises.

"Oh my God… you…. You came… you came back… finally…" was all she had managed before collapsing into hysterics again. As realisation had dawned, he bent down to her level and had taken her face within his two large hands, shushing her.

"Yes, Clariice… I have returned. I never truly left you, my dear. I have always been here, watching to see if you were ever in need." He wiped her salty tears away, anguish pulling at his heartstrings. What is she thinking?

Hannibal shifted, pulling Clarice onto his lap and cradled her in his arms like one would a child over the age of six. "Sssh, my dear." He smiled as she tilted her head up and trailed kisses along his chin and down his throat, where she bit down gently, licked and sucked to form a small love bite. Leaning back, she admired her work.

"You're mine."

"Yes, Clarice, and you are mine." Clarice had giggled girlishly, before blushing at how immature that had made her sound.

"I like the sounds of that."

He again smiled. "What does the word 'forever' do for you?"

Clarice mulled over that thought. Clarice M. Lecter. Finally, she proclaimed: "I like that a lot… do you know where I live?" All he had done was raise an eyebrow. Right, this is Hannibal Lecter. Of course he knows. "Take me home, sir."

"As they say, your wish is my command, Clarice."

Their lives were, from that moment on, together. Neither were separated, and, even in death, the two were together, their souls haunting the people they had left behind.

Taking over meYou're taking over meTaking over meTaking over me

Note: I'm sorry, this was terrible. Especially the ending. Bleh. But it is the best I can do at this current moment in time. It was definitely out of character and fluffy, but there aren't enough of those around. Any and all reviews are appreciated, I even take flames.

I am currently in a dilemma. You see, I cannot decide whether Jodie Foster (the original) or Julianne Moore is better as Clarice Starling, and I know there are mixed opinions, which is why I didn't describe her reflection. Once I know, this may change, but, for now, I am content to just let you, the readers, decide what Clarice it is.