by: my friend, Peking Prawn...
she's still trying to remember her password so i'm posting it up here for her!
as usual, reviews would be nice!
*~*~*~*
It was dark when the silver jaguar XJL pulled up outside the hotel. A heavily pregnant woman got out and tipped the driver, she opened one of the back doors and got out a large bag. The woman struggled with the bag before giving up, she left it on the path as she walked up to the front entrance as fast as she could in her present state. When she arrived at the door, a bellboy was waiting to collect her luggage, she gestured breathlessly to the bag sitting on the curb.
"It's back there." She puffed.
As the bellboy went to get the bag, she walked into the hotel. After checking in, she went into the bar and ordered an orange juice. As she sat down a tall, broad man in an off white coloured suit, with a blue silk shirt and matching fedora sat beside her.
"Well, well, well, this is truly a surprise, EX-Special Agent Starling." he murmured in her ear. then he ordered a brandy.
"What are you doing here, Doctor Lecter?" She hissed at him, then thanked and tipped the waiter when her orange juice and his brandy arrived.
"Now, now, little Starling, you wouldn't be trying to blow my cover now, would you?" He said, another mind game set.
"Look," she snapped at him, "it's over, Hannibal, face it." She stood, "Expect to hear about maintenance from my lawyer." And with that, she walked off, a triumphant look about her.
Hannibal watched as she left the bar. He blinked a couple of times and downed the rest of his brandy, it had an odd taste to it now Clarice was mad at him. He decided to leave the bar too, it was getting stuffy and too hot, he was beginning to sweat. He most certainly did not want to blow his cover... would Clarice do such a thing?
*~*~*~*
Clarice was in the shower. The hot water felt good on her aching back. She thought about Hannibal and then the new baby. She thought about their wedding in "the city of romance," Paris. After all, it wasn't safe for them to go to Florence,
~getting arrested on your honeymoon would certainly be a memory, wouldn't it?~
Clarice thought to herself, and then chuckled at the picture she had in her head of her husband protesting that he was not Dr Hannibal 'the cannibal' Lecter and he was on his honeymoon... that WAS an entertaining thought.
Sighing, she turned off the water and looked around for a bath robe. Finding one, she put it on and went into the bedroom. At $750 a night, the bed had to be comfortable. Her auburn hair hung damp around her shoulders, clarice tugged at a knot. She picked up the phone and dialed room service.
"Yeah, hi, umm... can i get a dish of pickles, a box of doughnuts and a bottle of Jack Daniel's, please?" after all, she was getting depressive, time to drown her sorrows. "SHIT! no, alcohol, bollocks!"
When her food (and drink) arrived, Clarice seized the tray and shoved a generous tip into the waiters hands and slammed the door shut. Ripping open the cardboard container, she noticed a piece of expensive stationary, folded neatly with her name written on it in a fine copperplate script, sitting atop the doughnuts. Dropping the thoroughly iced doughnut back into the box, Starling took the note out of the box.
~do i really want to read this?~ she asked herself...
*~*~*~*
Should Prawn write more? tell me in your reviews...
she's still trying to remember her password so i'm posting it up here for her!
as usual, reviews would be nice!
*~*~*~*
It was dark when the silver jaguar XJL pulled up outside the hotel. A heavily pregnant woman got out and tipped the driver, she opened one of the back doors and got out a large bag. The woman struggled with the bag before giving up, she left it on the path as she walked up to the front entrance as fast as she could in her present state. When she arrived at the door, a bellboy was waiting to collect her luggage, she gestured breathlessly to the bag sitting on the curb.
"It's back there." She puffed.
As the bellboy went to get the bag, she walked into the hotel. After checking in, she went into the bar and ordered an orange juice. As she sat down a tall, broad man in an off white coloured suit, with a blue silk shirt and matching fedora sat beside her.
"Well, well, well, this is truly a surprise, EX-Special Agent Starling." he murmured in her ear. then he ordered a brandy.
"What are you doing here, Doctor Lecter?" She hissed at him, then thanked and tipped the waiter when her orange juice and his brandy arrived.
"Now, now, little Starling, you wouldn't be trying to blow my cover now, would you?" He said, another mind game set.
"Look," she snapped at him, "it's over, Hannibal, face it." She stood, "Expect to hear about maintenance from my lawyer." And with that, she walked off, a triumphant look about her.
Hannibal watched as she left the bar. He blinked a couple of times and downed the rest of his brandy, it had an odd taste to it now Clarice was mad at him. He decided to leave the bar too, it was getting stuffy and too hot, he was beginning to sweat. He most certainly did not want to blow his cover... would Clarice do such a thing?
*~*~*~*
Clarice was in the shower. The hot water felt good on her aching back. She thought about Hannibal and then the new baby. She thought about their wedding in "the city of romance," Paris. After all, it wasn't safe for them to go to Florence,
~getting arrested on your honeymoon would certainly be a memory, wouldn't it?~
Clarice thought to herself, and then chuckled at the picture she had in her head of her husband protesting that he was not Dr Hannibal 'the cannibal' Lecter and he was on his honeymoon... that WAS an entertaining thought.
Sighing, she turned off the water and looked around for a bath robe. Finding one, she put it on and went into the bedroom. At $750 a night, the bed had to be comfortable. Her auburn hair hung damp around her shoulders, clarice tugged at a knot. She picked up the phone and dialed room service.
"Yeah, hi, umm... can i get a dish of pickles, a box of doughnuts and a bottle of Jack Daniel's, please?" after all, she was getting depressive, time to drown her sorrows. "SHIT! no, alcohol, bollocks!"
When her food (and drink) arrived, Clarice seized the tray and shoved a generous tip into the waiters hands and slammed the door shut. Ripping open the cardboard container, she noticed a piece of expensive stationary, folded neatly with her name written on it in a fine copperplate script, sitting atop the doughnuts. Dropping the thoroughly iced doughnut back into the box, Starling took the note out of the box.
~do i really want to read this?~ she asked herself...
*~*~*~*
Should Prawn write more? tell me in your reviews...