Clarice spent a week in the hospital and Donald Clarke visited her every day.
Seeing him was the best part of her time at the hospital. By day two, Clarice had already grown tired of the routine. Breakfast, physio, television, lunch with Don, mental exercises, more physio… it was so monotonous. Clarice was the type of person to be the center of all the action, not looking in from the window.
"When can I go back to work?" Clarice looked to her fellow agent, taking a small spoonful of jello into her mouth.
"They wanted me to tell you so they wouldn't get their asses kicked. They're giving you a full month's paid leave." Donald made a face; Clarice would not be happy about that one.
"Why? I can do my job, I just can't remember everyone I work with. I'm fine. And I'm still going to kick their asses when I get back to work. Maybe I'll kick your ass for complying with them." Clarice huffed.
"Relax, slugger. I know you're fine. But you're practically getting a paid vacation, enjoy yourself for a bit and come back to work."
"And do what? Twiddle my thumbs? Watch the news and see all the criminals I can't catch? You can only watch so much daytime television before you've seen every episode of Jerry Springer, Don."
"You need to relax. You have three cracked ribs, you're bruised all over, and you literally can't remember anyone you've had close contact with in your life. Your body and your brain need to rest. "
"Don't tell me what I need. What I need is to kick ass and take some names." Clarice rolled her eyes.
"Alright, grumpy. In a month, you can do whatever you want. When do you get to go home?"
"Today, sometime before five." Clarice grumbled, still mulling over a whole month of doing nothing.
Donald hung around, helping her through her final round of mental exercises. Donald took liberty of packing all the stuff he brought to her into Clarice's bag, as well as all of her cards given to her by other Agents. Flinging her bag over his shoulder, he tossed the bouquets of bad flowers into the trash. He took the list of her instructions; a set of things to do over the next four weeks and all of her medications.
Donald knew Clarice's smiles and thank you's were genuine, but forced. He knew her well enough to know she despised being pushed around in a wheelchair, being treated as if she couldn't take care of herself. He wasn't sure how to cheer her up, so instead he stayed silent as he pushed Clarice out to his truck, helping her get in.
"So," Donald grinned ", do you remember before the raid? You said I could take you for a few drinks if we were done by five."
"I do not remember the raid. Nice try, but I don't think I can drink for a while." Clarice snorted, looking out the window, watching the hospital fall out of her view.
"No, not now. The last day of your leave, if you're feeling up to it and some of your memories have come back, let me take you out. Or sooner, if you're feeling up to it." He waved his hand, trying to seem casual. Little did Clarice know, his heart was beating out of his chest.
"Maybe," she smiled ", as long as you keep in touch with me. The rest of the old team stopped visiting me on day three… haven't heard anything from them since." She trailed off.
"I wouldn't do that to you."
"I know… at least, I think I know. I only know information about you that you've told me." She laughed. Donald laughed too, giving her thigh a pat.
"I'll be sure to call you if I have to go out of town for work. I won't abandon you."
They made small talk for the remainder of the drive. Donald told her things about himself and how they interacted with each other. He told her about the other members of the team again, about how he took his coffee. All of those little things her brain was grasping to remember.
He dropped her off at her little house, just outside of town. She had a few neighbours, but she appreciated the silence of being just outside the main city, the mall and grocery store a mere ten minute drive away. Donald stayed awhile, making sure she took her first round of meds and ate something. Clarice parked herself on the couch, the remote tightly in her hand.
"Alright, you've eaten and taken those pills. I'm heading out. I'll call you a little later and let you know about the assignments." He waved before leaving her home. Clarice was left alone with her thoughts and this horrible straight to television movie.
Unknown to her, someone had been watching.
xxx
Doctor Hannibal Lecter was a man who had mastered the art of patience. Even with the help of his beautiful mind and his memory palace, he could wait years for the right time to strike.
This was not like that.
No, Clarice Starling had an effect on him like no other. With her, he couldn't wait to long, or the window might just close with his fingers in the pane.
When he had heard of the assault, the talk of every newspaper across the world, he flew to Virginia immediately. He recognized how reckless it was of him, but he had to ensure she was alright. Doctor Lecter had full intentions of killing the man who harmed his dearest Clarice and presenting him as a gift, like a cat presenting a mouse to its owner. But as rumors emerged that Clarice had been rendered with little to no memories of people in her life, his game plan changed.
Really, how often is one graced with such an opportunity? The Clarice Starling with full knowledge of what he had done was out to lunch; a brand new Clarice Starling was waiting for him just beyond her front door.
What he hadn't expected was the strapping, blond young man who had driven her home. The way this man touched her shoulders, the way he smiled at his Clarice. He was jealous over her. The only time he ever felt truly jealous was when that little agent was involved. But he knew that, if he could be patient just a moment longer, his time to strike would come.
He watched the man, whose name he had yet to learn, leave with a skip in his step. From down the road, Doctor Lecter made sure he was long gone before pulling up to her home, making sure the bouquet of white roses he has purchased for her was still in perfect condition.
Parking his precious Jaguar, he stepped out of the car, flowers in hand.
For a brief moment, he wasn't proud of himself and what he was about to do. If he didn't know any better, he would have recognized it as remorse. But like the water off a ducks back, he was in motion, approaching her door. For the first time in countless years, he found himself a little nervous.
xxx
Clarice was surprised when she heard the doorbell. Other than Don, no one had cared to regularly visit her. Straightening out her clothing, she opened the door to meet an older man.
"Hello, Agent Starling. It's been forever and a day." He spoke, the slight accent in his voice making him more alluring.
"I'm really sorry, Sir. But-"
"I know, my dear. As soon as someone told me, I came over right away."
"Oh, so we know each other? You look really familiar… you sound really familiar. I'm really sorry, I just can't remember anything else." Clarice seemed too meek in that moment, standing in front of him. It broke his heart to see her shy behind the door, practically begging her brain for some sort of straw to grasp.
"If it helps, we worked together on the Buffalo Bill case; quite closely, may I add. Do you have any knowledge of that case?"
"Buffalo Bill… Buffalo Bill, Buffalo Bill…" She reamed off, looking at the man's feet. He remained patient, watching her search for something samiliar.
"Jame Gumb," Clarice whispered, looking up to the man ", that was the Jame Gumb case, right?"
"You're correct, my dear." He smiled and Clarice smiled back.
"That's the first time I've remembered anything on my own in a week. Come on in!" Her spirits were clearly lifted as she happily stepped aside. He nodded, tipping his hat to her before stepping inside.
"These," he held the roses to Clarice ", are for you."
"Oh, these are beautiful! Thank you… uhm, could I possibly get your name?" She laughed, embarrassed at herself.
"You spent most of our time working together calling me Doctor."
"Just Doctor?" She asked, obviously a little skeptical. She wasn't on full alert yet; Doctor Lecter knew he could evade her with ease.
"Doctor Lecter," he tossed without fixating on it ", but everyone has taken to calling me Doc."
"Alright Doctor, come on in. Want some coffee? Tea?" She smelled the roses as she walked away, clearly satisfied and unalarmed by his answer at all.
"Tea would be incredible, dear."
Doctor Lecter followed her into the recesses of her home, admiring each and every picture on the wall. He savored each sight, taking an inventory for his memory palace. He took a deep breath in, the smell of lavender and vanilla meeting his senses in an instant. It was like inhaling the pure essence of Clarice Starling.
"So, we met through work?" Clarice asked, grabbing a vase from the cupboard.
"Yes. When you were just a young trainee with stars in your eyes, you were sent to me to obtain a profile on Buffalo Bill. We didn't spend nearly enough time together, but we were always friendly." He promised himself before doing this that he would only tell the truth and told the truth he did.
"A co-worker was telling me that the Buffalo Bill case was my big break. We must've been a really good team if that happened." She tossed a happy smile his way, putting a full kettle on a hot burner.
"We were the best." Doctor Lecter smirked.
"Did we just work together the one time, or were there others" she leaned over the counter, a sudden look of worry falling over her face ", I'm sorry! Here you are, bringing me beautiful flowers and I've done nothing but assault you with questions." Clarice threw her hands up in the air, trying to laugh it off. Once again, she found herself being embarrassed by her disability.
"Don't fret, my dear. I'll always answer your questions. After Billy, you grew busy with your job and I traveled about. We met once more a handful of years later for an intimate dinner, to play catch up."
"Oh… well, I was probably unhappy that our time was fleeting, especially if we worked so well together," Clarice shrugged ", where did you travel?"
They spent the next two hours talking over tea. Doctor Lecter divulged all the little details about living in Florence. He told her of the time he spent as a curator, of the delicious specialty pastries. She responded to every little tidbit of information with growing enthusiasm, as if he was the most amazing man on Earth. After a cup or two of tea, Clarice huffed and puffed.
"I didn't mean to keep you so late, Doctor. It feels like it's been forever since someone actually has spoken to me like I'm a real person. Other than my one co-worker, no one else wants to stay and chat." Clarice walked him to the door.
"No, no! I have nowhere else to be, Clarice. I hope you wouldn't find it pushy of me if I ask to come back tomorrow. Perhaps we can spend some time on that memory of yours."
"Well, with an amazing therapist like you around, you probably know what to do!" Clarice shrugged. Honestly, she was thrilled the man wanted to come back. The Good Doctor has answered every single one of her questions without batting an eye, let alone rolling them. He was treating her seriously, unlike the majority of her team.
"I'll come around noon?"
"Perfect, I'll make lunch!"
Doctor Lecter was over the moon. Clarice Starling was enjoying his company, without the gimmick of being Hannibal the Cannibal.
"Perfect," Doctor Lecter smiled ", I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah, see you tomorrow." Clarice shut and locked the door behind him. She chalked today up as a win; she remembered someone's name, she caught up with an old colleague while getting to know them all over again. The best part; he wasn't so bored with her constant questions that he actually wanted to come back.
Clarice was happy, but exhausted. She collapsed on the couch, ready for a long nap.
It feels really choppy, to me anyway, but I think that's because I'm just setting the foundation for some sweet Clannibal stuff. I'm so ready.