A plot bunny. Canon is book (SotL, with some background bits pulled from Hannibal and RD), then it deviates into its own little AU. Clarice, Hannibal, and Pilch are not my characters, I am merely borrowing them for a bit. I always wondered what might have happened after Clarice's night with Pilch up on the Chesapeake. Also making an appearance is Clarice's mother. Liberties were taken concerning her because SotL isn't exactly clear when/if she passed away. For this, she's alive for at least Clarice's first years in the FBI. Enjoy!

Stronger Than Eve

Genesis

The long lasting Indian Summer was waning, casting the last days of warmth and carelessness in a more nostalgic light. Children sat in the late evening sun on the corner, selling lemonade and Kool-aid. Parents and neighbors walked dogs and chatted amiably, some sipping lemonade. A few smiled and waved as the mint green Taurus turned onto the street. The driver waved back and continued up to the quiet col-de-sac a block up ahead. A garage door opened to admit the Taurus, which is parked to an older, but no less cared for, Toyota Celica. The garage door closes.

Clarice M. Starling, two years out of the FBI Academy and making her living by working as a tech agent, steps into a small laundry room. As she closes the door behind her she is greeted by a quartet of dogs, all shoving and short brown hair, trying to get her attention. Her purse and makeshift briefcase are left on the washer lid as she pushes her way through. The house is quiet save for the sound of a local NPR station on the stereo. She follows the sound, winding her way down the hall, dogs following in her wake. The living room is found, and she collapses onto the sofa, releasing a sigh she's carried all day and taking her first relaxed breath since she awoke twelve hours prior.

Two dogs piled onto the couch with her, two others at her feet, paws on feet and heads on paws. One dog on the couch laid his front paws on her lap, staring up at her with doleful brown eyes, head settling onto paws asher hand dropped to pat the large ear, massaging the floppy ears. Clarice had grown up with hound dogs, and they seemed to be the only thing of her past life that she had held onto. Her eyes close, and she remembers the days when her father shared Sno-Balls and oranges with her in the kitchen. Funny, she could always retrieve the memories of her father in happier times, but she could only see her mother suffering.

On the mantel of the fireplace was an array of pictures. Pictures of starling graduating college, graduating the FBI Academy. Pictures of the dogs, who were the stand-ins for children not often talked about, but surely to come. More graduation pictures, these not her owns. A man, black haired and lean, receiving his doctoral hood. And in the center of it all, something Clarice had never believed she'd see- herself in a wedding gown, smiling on the arm of the man from the other pictures. A smaller picture sat just in front of the wedding portrait, Clarice in her wedding dress, and her mother beaming next to her. Starling's only clear and happy memory of her mother.

She only wished her father had been there.
.-.-.-.

Starling stared into her reflection i the full length mirror, trying to connect with the woman she saw there. Ardelia was there, over her shoulder, hand squeezing Clarice's.

'You'll do fine.' she told her friend. Clarice looked back and smiled. She turned away from her reflection and hugged Delia.

'Thanks.'

Delia grinned. 'Always. Now, we've got a wedding to get you to. Johnny's waiting in the hall.'

It made Starling a little sad to think of John Brigham at times. He'd asked her something once, and she'd told him she couldn't. He asked if they could be friends, and meant it. She'd said yes, and meant it. Now he would walk her down the aisle on her wedding day since her father wouldn't be there. That made Starling sad to think about as well.

In the hall with Brigham stood a grey haired woman, whose strong cheekbones and hazel eyes belied her relation to Starling. Clarice hugger her, smiling and looking deep into those eyes, seeing her ancestors looking back. 'Momma, don't cry. Today's a happy day.'

'I am happy, Clarice, I am.' She smiled at her daughter, the first of the family to go to college and to be more than a back country washer-woman. 'If only Daddy could've seen you, bless him.' As Brigham patted Rita Mae Starling's shoulders, he caught Clarice Starling's eyes.

'Bless you, too, Starling.' he said, and it sounded as strange as ever on his tongue. Starling smiled and reached over to give his arm a squeeze.

'Thank you, Johnny.'

Delia made the importance of time known and ushered the small group down the hallway. Clarice took a deep breath before the sanctuary doors opened. From here on out, nothing would ever be the same.
.-.-.-.

The reception was up on the Chesapeake, up at Crawford's brother's house. It was small, mostly her new husband's family. Children and dogs wove their way, barking and laughing, through the legs of the grown ups. Clarice was smiles and brightness, on the arm on of her husband. Johnny was a good man and was dancing with Rita Mae on the dance floor, and it pleased Clarice to see the brightness in her mother as well. Her enjoyment of the champagne was getting to her, and Clarice whispered up to her husband that she was going to step away for a moment. He grinned at her and gave her a quick kiss before sending her on her way. Crawford stopped her on the way up to the house to share his congratulations with her again. Clarice accepted and continued up the slope of the lawn.

The house was large and quiet, and Clarice wound her ways down hallways, eventually finding the bathroom. She listened to her own footsteps on old hardwood as she came back out. She stopped just inside the kitchen, looking out the large windows that overlooked the yard and the bay. Something in the trees outside the window to her right caught her eye. She turned, moving towards the windows. Through the old glass she saw a man, in the thick hedge. Something tripped in Clarice's memory, and she went for the door. Around the corner of the porch, across the side yard. The hedges were empty. Around the hedge, a man walking calmly away, back towards her.

Clarice made it to the street, heels hitting the asphalt and halting there, eyes wide. 'Wait!' The man continued two steps then stopped. Clarice hadn't expected that, and stood silent, waiting. Her heart was in her throat for a reason she could not pinpoint. Smoothly, the stranger turned to face her direction, eyes shaded behind dark lenses. He smiled, something familiar rising the hair on Clarice's neck. She didn't breath as he spoke, simply.

'Congratulations, Clarice.'

And he walked away.

Clarice M. Starling, FBI agent and newlywed, had no idea how long sh stood there. She felt a hand on her arm, and it broke her fascination. She looked up into her husband's face, relief flooding her features.

'What's wrong, Clarice? You look like you've seen a ghost.'

'Or something like that.' she shook her head. 'I... I'm sorry.'

He smiled, and she smiled, she couldn't help it. 'Its okay. They want to cut the cake, so I guess they need us.' he shrugged and she laughed. She took his hand and allowed him to lead her down across the lawn. The happy couple.
.-.-.-.

'Hey, Clarice.' even before opening her eyes, Starling felt the dogs' attention shift. Tails thumped against the couch, and Clarice's lips curved into a smile. Opening her eyes she found a pair of witchy black eyes watching hers. He smiled, and leaned forward to give her a kiss. She accepted, and laughed pleasurably as the dogs jostled, trying to get in on the action.

She shoved aside the dog half in her lap, reaching out a hand to get some help off the couch. 'Really, you'd think they didn't have you around half the day, Pilch.' she teased. Her husband grinned.

'Yeah, I abuse them so much.'

Clarice grinned. "I'm sure.' she laughed. Starling had spent just over a year as Mrs. Dr. Noble Pilcher. She was happier and more content than she had been in a very long time, and she didn't regret for a minute her decision. Noble led her to the kitchen, the couple trailing dogs, as they began to exchange notes about the day. Neither knew that from this day on, nothing would ever be the same.
.-.-.-.