Hi! Hope you like this so far! Let me know if I should continue!
By the way, I changed my name due to a computer glitch. I assure you that this is my story. And as usual, the disclaimer still applies.
It was still early when Clarice woke. No matter, her flight was in a few hours anyway. She could get ready and drown her sorrows in the airport bar. She had the perfect excuse. She was being stalked. Yeah, right. "I deserve," she thought. "I became too involved. I should have let it go. No, I shouldn't have."
Her cab came just as she had finished drying her hair. The cabby helped to put her things in the trunk but Clarice did most of the work. She ran back into the house and grabbed her fanciest coat, her wallet, keys and John Brigham's badge. She put the badge on her belt. She shut the door and locked it. Double bolted. Clarice got into the cab and just as just as the sun started to rise, drove away.
At the airport, Clarice learned that her flight was delayed. She began to wait in the waiting room, but it was not exciting. Instead, she followed her previous plans and moved to the bar. She ordered a whiskey and sat watching the clock tick by. No one asked her what was wrong. She thought, " Why should they? I'm just another lonely face in the crowd with problems. Although, these are no ordinary problems. No one else deals with a crazy psychiatrist who eats his patients. No, no one else has my problems." She ordered another drink and moved to the far left side of the bar where she could she the flight schedules.
An old familiar face watched from the opposite side of the bar. He had a glass of Chardonnay in his hand and was enjoying it. He would have preferred a Chianti, but such fine Italian wine is rare and certainly not in grungy airport bars. " Clarice, why do you do these things to yourself? When will you advance yourself from the roller pigeon that you are? Why Clarice? Are the lambs the cause? Do they still wake you? Do you scram with them? Can I help?" He finished his drink and arose from his chair. He walked towards Clarice, his tailcoat swishing back and forth. As he neared, he sniffed the air. It awoke buried, but not dormant memories. The dungeon he knew not so long ago. " You use Evian skin cream and sometimes you wear L'air de Temps. But not today.
He moved closer and closer, nearing the unaware Clarice. At just a fingertip's touch away, he struck. His extended hand ran through her flawless long red hair. He withdrew and walked briskly away. Clarice turned in the opposite direction. "Dr. Lecter? Where are you?" there was no sign of Lecter. Just a young waiter hustling for a tip. She turned around. A dark figure was leaving, but it was impossible to make out who it was in the poorly lit room. " Damn, I should have checked the corner. I should know that by now."
She contemplated for a minute why she didn't look in the obvious direction. Maybe she knew it was Lecter. Maybe she wanted him to get away. Maybe she loved their Cat-and-Mouse game.