Hannibal: The Golden Pen

Chapter 1

"I'm sorry Clarice…but we're going to have to dismiss you."

Clarice turned around her hands still up in the air, and then all of the agents lowered their guns. There was still one tear drop underneath her eye, it rolled silently down her cheek. All she did was nod at her former boss.

"Where's Paul?"

"Back in the house." She replied quietly.

She was lucky, and so was he, that Hannibal had made it out of the house and into the lake and out of sight before the FBI could spot him. Hiding underneath the steering wheel, that's where he was in that small boat.

"Where'd Dr. Lecter get off to?"

She didn't reply.

"Starling!"

She moved her glistening eyes to his. "I don't work for you anymore. I have the right to remain silent."

Her boss furrowed his brows at her in fury. "Very well then."

With a wave of his arm he turned and walked towards her home and the armed men turned to follow him. She was left alone with nothing but the sound of sirens and glows of helicopters flying above. Slowly she looked back out at the lake, and the boat was gone.

The FBI arranged for Clarice's house to be fixed up, and so a few days later her home was her home again. Of course now she had no job, but she didn't bother with jobs at the time, she mind was in a fog. She went to get the morning mail and sighed when she saw the familiar wax stamp on the back and the calligraphy 'Clarice' on the front. It was from Dr. Lecter, but why so soon? She quickly opened it up and unfolded it. She didn't care about finger prints now, she didn't care that this could be evidence.

Clarice,

I do hope you're happy with yourself, making me cut my own hand off like that, what a shame. I assume you've been cut from those despised FBI friends of yours, does that make you happy? Well, just the other on my plane a little boy took an interest in Paul's brain, hard to believe isn't it? He insisted on trying it, so of course I let him. He might make a fine cannibal someday. But that was not my reason for writing you, no Clarice. I wrote to you to tell you not to come looking for me. The world's big enough for the two of us. If I should ever want your company, I'll be sure to write again.

Ta, ta

"H"

P.S. You looked stunning in that dress I picked out for you.

Without thinking Clarice took her hands and placed them on the letter so that she could rip it apart. But strangely, she couldn't do it. She sighed and held it up to her face before walking down towards her basement and leaving the letter in there. She put a paper weight on top of it to keep it from blowing off the desk she picked for it. She let her fingers trace over it before leaving her basement and returning up to her home.

//-//-//-//-// One Year Later //-//-//-//-//

"Starling! Get your butt over here!"

Clarice looked up from her desk and computer screen. She walked to the source of the voice and then found her boss staring up at her.

"Starling you've gotten sloppier and sloppier on every assignment, and I'm not very happy."

Clarice had found a job making web pages, she only knew how because she'd taken courses in school. She didn't like the job very much, but it put bread on the table. But now it looked like she was about to get canned.

"Mr. Hensley, I promise I'll do better next time…"

"That's what you say Everytime Starling, and I've had enough of it. I think it's time you packed your things and skedaddled."

Not even wanting to try to keep her job, Clarice just nodded and returned to her office. Her computer screen showed an unfinished web page that she had been working with, and with a grin, she closed out of it and deleted it entirely from the system. She wouldn't let her replacement have it easy by finding an almost complete webpage when first turning on the computer. She picked up the box she'd had packed for months, or maybe she never finished unpacking it…never the matter. She picked it up and threw in the few possessions she had on her desk. It appeared as if she'd been trying to get fired all along. So quickly left the office and drove her car back home.

It was the same home she'd been in for eleven years, and she loved it, no matter how many dreadful things had happened inside. The fate of her old rival from the FBI named Paul was decided no sooner than the FBI broke in. They found him dead, dead for only seconds. She never let that bother her anymore though. She didn't like Paul, and even if she didn't like seeing his exposed brain and watching him eat it, she felt he deserved it. Sighing she shoved the box of her things underneath her bench beside the staircase. Finally she decided it was one of those times for a quick jog.

She changed into her sweat shirt and pants, found some headphones, and then left her house to jog the paved road that circled around her house and the lake. She couldn't remember the last time she'd actually run with headphones on, or even used the headphones, though she did only use them a year or so ago. She didn't know what she would hear when she flipped them on, and to her surprise it was a familiar voice.

"Do you feel eyes watching your body; I can't see how you couldn't. And do your eyes not seek out what they want?"

Before she could hear herself reply and turned the headphones off. That was hardly what she wanted to listen to while jogging. She'd been working so hard just to get that man out of her strained mind; it was only a matter of time before she was reminded again of him. She quietly continued her jog after that. She made a total of four laps around the entire length of the lake and her home, but of course not the whole lake, for it turned into a river flowing out to the ocean; there was a bridge where people walked over the place where the lake formed into the river. When she was finished she walked back into her home, sweat beading from her forehead. She quickly threw the headphones towards her couch and went up to her room to change out of the sweaty clothing. No sooner had she pulled a shirt over her head did the doorbell ring, signaling the mail. She pulled her hair into a pony tail, how she liked it, and then went back down the stairs, her sweats in hand to put in her washing machine. After doing that she finally went to her door and picked up the mail. A letter from her boss with her layaway pay, a few uninteresting magazines, a bill for electricity and…

She was sure she was just imaging it, but it was right in her hands. Before she could stop herself, her trembling hands dropped all of the letters. Biting her lip after a few seconds of hesitation and picked them back up and walked to her counter, setting all the letters except the one with a skull seal down. She pulled out a drawer where she had a letter opener and proceeded to open up the envelope. Indeed it was just like all the letters she'd ever received from Hannibal Lecter. She slowly pulled out the yellow tinted parchment to find a very, extremely uncharacteristic, short note.

In five minutes your phone will ring, Clarice. Answer it…and make sure the FBI isn't listening in.

"H"

How bizarre…it was like Hannibal had been in a rush. He was never in a rush, always calm and had everything under control. This made Clarice all the more nervous. She wasn't sure how she could make sure the FBI weren't listening to her phone calls. It was true that they told her that her phone would be monitored by them, but that was a year ago and they'd never listened in before. She quickly got to her computer and went to the FBI website where she used to work. It asked for her username and password, so she tried her old one, and to her frustration it didn't accept. How would she deal with this? All the while she was trying to access her old account, and her time ticked by.

Her cell phone rang. It wasn't the house phone, as she had expected, which was good. The FBI had never mentioned that they'd listen in on her cell phone. In fact they didn't even know she had a cell phone. She had gotten rid of her FBI cell phone and bought her own personal one as soon as being dismissed. So…how did Hannibal get a hold of her number? The ringer sounded for the third time, and she quickly grabbed her cell phone to answer.

"I figured you wouldn't be able to access your personal account, so I called your cell phone Clarice."

Clarice wasn't sure what to say.

"I see that you were fired again today, Clarice. The short little thing you called Mr. Hensley was all in your face. If you like I could teach a few things about being rude for you."

Clarice shook her head without answering.

"No? Alright then, you always were the one to see the clear line between right and wrong."

Clarice turned her head and looked out her window. She didn't see anyone, so she walked slowly through her house looking out all of her windows, but not seeing anyone.

"Clarice…you're not trying to locate me are you? Because if you are, I'm afraid you won't find me."

Finally Clarice spoke. "Dr. Hannibal, why did you call me?"

"Ah, curiosity killed the cat Clarice. But if you insist. It would seem I have a bit of a dilemma. Someone is a bit upset with me."

Clarice walked to her back door, the one facing the lake, and she looked through the glass. Her boat was back. "Now why would someone be upset with you?" She asked a bit sarcastically.

She heard a small chuckle on the other end of the phone. "I'm afraid that, if you want anymore details you'll have to find me in person. I'm pretty sure the FBI have your cell phone number…wouldn't want them to hear my privet business, now would we?"

Before Clarice could respond the cell phone went blank, Hannibal had hung up. Clarice quickly let it fall to the floor and walked out her back door, towards the boat that had been returned to her dock. She walked along the pier and made her way to the boat, but found it quite empty. Nevertheless it looked in perfect condition, much better than she'd ever had it before. She looked out in the lake, wondering silently where the Dr. would be. Slowly, with her gaze downward, she turned around. When she looked up she nearly jumped with fright.

"Hallo Clarice."

As always Dr. Hannibal had snuck up on her, for he was standing right in front of her now.

"Dr. Lecter…"

"Clarice, dear, I don't use such formalities with your name, perhaps you should not use them with mine."

Clarice saw how Lecter's appearance had changed over the year. He'd grown thinner, more fit, but his face would always be the same face with daunting ice blue eyes. His hair was slicked back as it always was, and his gaze was steady.

"Giving me the once-over, Clarice? Well then, you should have one too."

Hannibal quickly let his gaze move up and down Clarice's body and then he said, "Spin, slowly." And she did so. "Bravo Clarice, you should've been a model."

Hannibal began walked back towards her house, Clarice slowly trailing behind him. "Now, before I begin an engaging conversation with you, I'd appreciate it if you promised not to keep trying to whack me over the head or stab me with objects. That was quite displeasing during out last visit."

Clarice was silent, feeling slightly guilty. She never wanted to hurt Hannibal, but she had known he was dangerous, and he still was come to think of it, and her instincts had told her that the world would be safer with Hannibal behind bars. She faintly remembered him asking her if she'd deny him his life. She had said no in response. And his reply to that had "No, just my freedom." It was one of their most personal conversations.

"Clarice."

She looked up.

"Say 'I promise', Clarice."

"I promise."

"That's my girl."

They walked into her house, Hannibal shutting the door after Clarice walked in.

"You've rearranged the furniture!" Hannibal stated with a thin, silvery smile.

Clarice only nodded at him.

"I like it." Hannibal then sat down on her couch and made himself at home. "I could get used to it here, Clarice."

"I'm just about ready to leave it." Clarice responded, sitting in her chair. Of course she loved her home, but she was tired of working so closely to the FBI agents whom she'd used to work with. She was tired of living so close to the prison where Hannibal used to stay.

"Well that's convenient." Hannibal said, his gaze refocusing on her.

"Is it?" Clarice asked dully, letting her gaze meet Hannibal's. Whenever they spoke they'd always used direct eye contact. It was a silent agreement in a term, but Clarice was sure that if she didn't, for the most part, speak to Hannibal with her eyes as well as her voice he'd have some comment about it that would make her do it anyway.

"Yes, indeed it is. And it can be arranged as well Clarice."

A/N: That's the end of the first chapter everyone! Hope you enjoyed. XD