Disclaimer: I am just a lowly fanfic writer who probably will never publish an origional work. So Mr. Harris can just lord his wonderful characters, I'm only borrowing them.
Note: This is set about a three months after SotL the book, in which Lecter writes Starling a letter just at the end.
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Clarice Starling woke in a cold sweat again. The lambs. But tonight, and for a while now, Jame Gumb's voice asking her How does it feel... To be so beautiful, she mentally finished. But, in her dream, he wasn't asking her, he was asking them. The poor, stupid, smelly lambs. She rose from her bed in the new small apartment. Ardelia was asleep in the other bedroom. Starling walked to her desk and pulled from the top drawer a sheet of paper and a pen. The paper had the FBI logo on it, of which she was recently an official employee. She picked up the pen.
Dr. Lecter,
I did managed to read your letter before they filed it away in some storage bin. Ardelia found it picking up the mail two months ago. It scared her so badly. Maybe you should ask her about nightmares now. All hell broke loose over that. The Tattler has been asking me for your address. And Krendler had my head on a platter, pardon the expression. I almost wiish I knew, to see if I would say.You saw Orion, in your letter. Me too. Only, which one of us is the hunter now? Were you warning me? Or inviting me? I would talk to you again. The lambs don't scream alone now. Jame Gumb, Buffalo Bill, Billy Rubin, who ever else he was , doesn't scream exactly. He whispers. You whispered to my face and screamed to my soul. But you did understand me a little bit. But I'd like to believe you didn't see everything. Or atleast tell. Who do you talk to now, Doctor, that you can take your pick?
She takes the letter and blows on the ink carefully to dry it. She opens the drawer again, to remove a folder. She places the letter, unsigned, unaddressed, on top of a stack of others like it and closes the drawer.
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so *looks around nervously* what did you guys think?