Don't ask. I have no idea where it came from either.

The usual applies; I own no one or nothing pertaining to this story.

Regrets

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As I sit here in my prison cell, I wonder what I could have done differently.  What I could have changed, what I would have changed if I'd only known.  The guards have come for me now.  In just a matter of minutes, it will all be over.

"Lets go Starling.  It's time."

~Sometime earlier~

Special Agent Starling had managed to un-wedge her hair from the refrigerator.  Scrambling out the back door, desperately seeking a glimpse of her adversary. 

That's where it all started. 

As she came around the corner of the house she saw a uniformed Officer leveling his weapon toward the woods. 

"Police, Freeze." She heard him say.  She looked in the direction that he was pointing his weapon and saw the object of her search.  They locked eyes for only a split second before her instincts took over.  "NOOOOOO" she screamed, as she began running straight at the Officer.  Not knowing who she was, just a crazy woman as far as he knew, the Officer turned to face the immediate threat.  "Stay out of this lady."  He yelled at her.  Clarice slowed down as he faced her, identifying herself,  "I'm Clarice Starling, F.B.I." 

After determining she was unarmed, where the hell would she put anything in that dress, the Officer turned back toward Dr. Lecter, who was still trying to make for the cover of the trees.  As he did, Clarice broke into a run once more, tackling the Officer mid torso just as he fired.  They wrestled for the gun for a moment, then it discharged again.

The next thing Agent Starling knew, she was being pulled off the Officer's body and handcuffed.  She didn't know if his first shot had hit its mark or not.  She hoped for the latter.

Clarice was all but dragged to the patrol car and roughly shoved in the back, head first.

On the way to the police station, while listening to the police radio, Clarice realized that the Officer, with whom she had fought, was in fact, dead.

Agent Starling had been sitting in her cell for close to four hours.  She hadn't said a word to anyone during the whole ordeal.  For all outward appearances she looked to be in shock.  Internally she was waging a great battle with herself.

'Why did I have to cuff him, he would have been gone, end of story.  But I couldn't let him get away.  I wanted to prove them all wrong.  I wanted to show them all.  I wanted to protect the sheep.  Oh God, I wanted to kiss him back.'

She didn't even have time to linger on that last thought when she heard the cell door open.  She looked up to see Clint Pearsall staring down at her.  After a few uncomfortable moments he said, "Why, Starling?  Why?"

"It was an accident."  She said quietly.  "An accident!  Tell me Starling what part of this catastrophe was an accident?  Going to Verger's Estate in direct violation of my orders? Being an accessory to the murder of a Federal Agent?  Aiding and abetting one of the Bureau's most wanted criminals?  Or the death of a rookie Police Officer with one week on the force?  I really want to know Starling.  Which was it?"

All she could hear herself say was "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Pearsall turned away from her, disgusted, calling for the guard to let him out.

He exited the cell and when the guard had closed the gate to her pen, as it were, Pearsall turned to her one last time and said, "You going down hard for this one Starling."

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Here we go again.