Title: Expecting
Prompt Number: 7
Requested By: Anonymous
Description: clarice discovers some news that will change her and lecter's lives forever; how will she go about telling him?
Rating: T
Characters Mentioned: Clarice Starling; Hannibal Lecter; Ardelia Mapp
Word Count: 1300+

-the sound of a mustang's engine growing ever-silent filled the air as fbi agent clarice starling pulled up in front of the home of renowned psychiatrist hannibal lecter. her hands, trembling with her nervousness, were gripping the steering wheel as she sat there. what was she going to say? the truth, no doubt. however, this could be quite a sensitive subject if not approached correctly, cautiously. she was undoubtedly brave, but no amount of bravery can help prepare oneself to tell someone else one's pregnant. eyes shut tight, she blindly let one hand relinquish the wheel before going to pull the keys from the ignition; only to drop them. "god fuckin' damn it!" she exclaimed in her anger, directed more towards herself than anyone else. there was no one else to foist it onto, not that she ever even would. get your fuckin' shit together, starling.

-once she grabbed the keys, she managed to make it out of the vehicle. her pale face, even more ashen than usual, was lit by the moon and streetlights. for a moment, she stood alongside her car, looking up at the home in which the pregnancy was conceived. she remembered the event as if it was merely yesterday, and not nine weeks ago. their relationship had been one rumored about in the fbi's gossiping circle, amongst the secretaries more so than the agents. otherwise, their affair had been truthfully none by next to no one. biting firmly on her bottom lip, she forced her legs to carry her to the sidewalk. after a moment, she could taste blood she had drawn with her teeth. she ignored it, however. most likely, she had grown used to this. besides, she had far more pressing matters at hand. gradually, she meandered towards the door—the path to it seeming a lot farther than she remembered. starling sighed before letting a solitary digit go to the doorbell, ringing it a couple times before the entrance opened, revealing hannibal. she felt herself becoming a bit nauseous, but she buried that—as she did a lot of things.

-"well, hello clarice. this is certainly a pleasant surprise." his remark, genuine in its accentuation, led her to smile—even if she was not the happiest of people that evening. she touches her jean pocket, where the ultrasound photos were. the test, she had hoped, would have been a false positive. however, that afternoon proved her to be quite wrong. their relationship, as it had been so far, was based on two simple things—trust and honesty. she was not about to break that sacredness then. she was going to tell him, and be honest in telling him. she just did not know how to go about it, not quite yet. when he kisses her cheek, where the gunpowder mark sat as a reminder of her courage, she cannot help but to feel herself melt, the nerves seeming to go along with her if only just for a moment. "what brings you over this evening, my dear? do i even need to ask?"

-she knew all too well what he meant; they had made it a bit of a habit to have clarice over at night; quite frequently actually. unfortunately, with clarice living in a duplex with her valued friend ardelia mapp, hannibal could not do the same. she thought it for the best, though. especially considering the fact that she was not the neatest of people, and she did not think he would like it all too well. "yeee… actually, i'm not here 'bout that, as nice as that'd be." starling managed to choke out, her accent ringing out into the night air. hues of gentle blue dart down to look at both of their shoes, noting that hundred-dollar difference in them. when she looked back up to his face, the door was opened much wider. "please, do come in. no need for you to be standing outside."

-for the briefest of moments, the corners of her mouth twitch upward in a faint smile. a gracious nod as a sign of her acceptance, she steps across the threshold. she does not know why, but the act seems to solidify the situation. she does not quite know it this is a good thing or bad. she does not dwell on it much. as she walks into the home further, she looks around and recalls every little act between the two of them. the couch in her sights, she recalls the somewhat drunken conversations they would share, which would lead to innocent touches, then less innocent kisses, and even less innocent embraces. inwardly, she shook her head as if to snap herself out of the reverie. focus, damn it; fucking focus. if she allows herself to get too lost in the past, she won't be attentive to the present and the future. she can feel hannibal's eyes on her, as if they're boring into her—drilling holes of fixation in the back of her form. turning around to face him, she swallows hard, takes a deep breath—speaking only when she feels the confidence she needs. "we need to talk. it's… it's important."

-a slight tilt of his head follows a curious expression which forms across features she had grown more than familiar with. a contemplative hum falls from his lips as they part, only to come together again after he licked them slowly. starling observes him closely as he advances towards her, his steps slow, sure, and slightly horrific. it's almost terrifying to watch him walk like this, she notes, but there's also an unmistakable beauty about it that she cannot shake. he was a man capable of bringing horror to anyone, and yet she was not nearly as afraid as most might warn her to be. "tell me, clarice… what is so urgent?" there's barely a foot of distance between them now, and starling can feel the words bubbling up to the surface, jammed in her throat and ready to come out—not out of any form of eagerness, though; more out of necessity. she had to be careful, though. she knew that all too well. "maybe you, er, should be sittin' down…" she started, gesturing towards the furniture surrounding them in the den. "please…" she added, avoiding eye contact for just a moment.

-obliging her, he moved towards a chair. as he sat, he adjusted his suit jacket and crossed one leg over the other in an almost majestic manner. his hands perch interlaced upon his knee, watching her closely just as she is him. she can tell he's taking stock of her then, most likely noticing how much paler she is now than she was a while ago. he's probably noticed other changes about her, too. but, regardless of whether or not he had, he would soon have an explanation for it all—just as soon as she managed to get the words out. instead of telling him outright, she began pacing slightly, hands wringing with anxiety she was not accustomed to. all the possibilities filled her head then. would he be angry? would he be happy? would he insist she terminate the pregnancy? would he want to end their relationship? she did not know; could not know. "okay…" she spoke shakily, breathing deeply afterwards. "what i've got t' tell you ain't somethin' i'm even remotely used to tellin' people, so just… uh, bear with me, okay?" she pauses, looking at him. he nods, understanding as best as he can. the cannibal is concerned, she can tell. "well, um… okay… you remember 'bout two months ago or so? when we…" her voice drifts off, brows rising slightly in implication. the memories come flooding back—the couch, his bed, the shower—the kisses, the caresses, the grunts and poetry of their love. "yes, i recall that occasion quite well, clarice." so does she. does he remember the condom that broke? does he remember how little they cared in that moment? he does not seem to, but with lecter it's hard to tell. "well… i'm pregnant."