Dedicated To Lou92, who finally gave me a reason to post something
Disclaimer: I don't claim to own any character's, they all belong to the genius that is Thomas Harris
It had only been 3 months since Hannibal Lecter's departure, fortunately with both hands still intact, yet Clarice found it impossible to go a day without wondering what could have been. In fact, she didn't even need to wonder, she knew her life would be vastly improved if she had only had the courage to tell the Doctor how she really felt when his lips had come down on hers in Paul Krendler's kitchen.
The very memory of being kissed by Hannibal 'the cannibal' Lecter, in the kitchen of a man she loathed, in front of that very man, whose scalp had been cleanly removed - giving her indisputable evidence that this man actually had a brain; was so preposterous that she could easily have shrugged it off as a very bizarre dream. That is, if the feel of his kiss was not so stubbornly imbedded within her, and the small scar on her shoulder could hardly go unnoticed. It was then that she realized that she didn't want to forget, even if she was able to.
Her feelings for the doctor were something she was yet to come to terms with, but she no longer denied them. He was constantly on her mind and had been ever since their first meeting all those years ago.
It was autumn now, the trees surrounding her house let leaves of orange and yellow rain down onto the path in front of her as she jogged up to her back door. It was still early and the sun was yet to finish making its way over the tall pine branches. Today was the day; she was going to start anew. Once inside her half of the duplex, Clarice makes her way to the shower, weaving in and out the boxes containing the few things she has decided on taking with her. Today was the day; she was going to quite the FBI.
Inside the bathroom now, she pulls her sweats off, leaving them in a pile. She can sort them out later. Stepping into the shower she turns the water on full blast, wincing as the icy droplets hit her skin before the heater has time to take effect. Leaning back against the wall, letting the water pour over her; washing away remnants of her workout and any doubt that may have been lingering in the back of her mind. She finishes her shower without giving much thought to what she is doing; her mind is elsewhere, reliving her past encounters with the good Doctor. Having rinsed her hair thoroughly she steps out from the confines of the shower curtain and wraps herself in a large towel, grabbing another to run over her hair. Little over one hour before she was to leave this place forever, she had spent a large part of her life here yet she felt no remorse at the thought of her departure. The time for grief, regret and denial had past, she told herself now not to think about the future until she had reached her destination. A small tear trickled down her cheek, pent up emotion leaking for a second only before it is brushed away. "Damn it Clarice, get a hold of yourself."
Pulling on her worn out boots over her black trousers she looks at herself in the mirror, her bright hair glowing against her dark attire. There will be no need for her FBI uniform today, or ever again for that matter. Glancing over her room once more, checking she was not leaving anything of use behind, she turns to leave, picking up an envelope on her way out.