Title: The Birth of Venus
Summary: Clarice Starling has been put on forced temporary leave by the Bureau. When she goes to Florence to track down Lecter, she's put on Il Monstro's hit list. What will happen when the good Doctor finds out?
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, the ownership is not mine of anything in this story but the plotline.
A/N: The dress exists. It's Nina Ricci and gorgeous. Also, I stole the whole whispering lines thing from Stephanie Meyer. I just had to put it in. I love that part.
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They arrived at the opera together.
Clarice smiled as the Doctor's acquaintances complimented her. She hadn't known him to be so social, but, she reflected, that was probably because her entire country had a search warrant out on him and a bounty on his head.
Hannibal had asked her to leave her hair down straight tonight, and she'd complied with his request. The way her hair caught the light pleased him, and her dress was perfect. It amused him especially because he knew exactly why she'd picked it out – the designer had been inspired by a bottle of L'Air de Temps to create it. The green complimented her skin and hair perfectly. He'd given her a pair of emerald cabochon earrings to wear tonight and they reflected the light in the same manner as her hair, delighting him.
When the lights dimmed for the show to begin, they both raptly payed attention to the singers. Clarice couldn't understand what they were saying, but the woman's expressions were enough to convey her message, and the Doctor whispering the words in her left ear in English made it quite possible to find the evening both pleasant musically and intensely seductive for her.
At the after party they split up, Clarice heading towards the bar to get their drinks, Hannibal to the same fence they'd met at their first night.
As Clarice took her champagne from the bartender, she heard a familiar voice behind her.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't Special Agent Starling. How are you, Starling?"
She slowly turned around to discover, with obvious disgust, Paul Krendler.
"What are you doing in Florence?" she asked, her voice full of contempt.
He shrugged. "I actually came for my time off – it's Easter vacation. You," he said, looking her up and down with undisguised lust, "are just an added bonus."
The phone in her green wristlet buzzed. She held up a hand. "Hold on."
There was a text message from someone, she didn't care who, but she was thankful for the opportunity it had provided her.
She quickly sent a text message and placed the tiny Nokia back in her bag. She looked calmly at the man in front of her. "If it's all the same to you, Paul, I'd rather not spend any time with you at all."
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Across the party, Hannibal waited patiently for Clarice to come over with their drinks.
His cell phone buzzed in his pocked. He took it out and scrolled down through the text message, a clearly hurried one from Clarice.
"pl krndlr here. ill take cr of hm. leve now."
He glanced at the bar and swiftly left.
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Paul leered at her. "And what makes you think I'll agree to that, Starling?" He reached out a hand and put it on her shoulder. "It's certainly not from your lack of trying, I assure you."
His hand smelled strongly of bad hotel soap.
She shoved his hand away. "I know. It's because you're too thick to get it in your head that I despise you, Paul."
He was startled by her sudden burst of confidence.
She sneered, her inbred twang becoming pronounced. "We're not in the office now, Paul. I don't have to worry about the Director getting snippy if I offend you, you pompous, selfish, subservient fuck."
All of a sudden his face changed from surprised to greedily pleased. He took a step towards her. "Well, Starling, if you feel you don't have to worry about office politics… then neither do I."
He pulled her into a long, wet kiss, his hands running up and down her body.
She gasped as his mouth moved down, skimming her breasts, her nostrils filling with the scent of his horrible cheap cologne.
She shoved him off with a look of pure, unadulterated loathing and horror in her eyes. "Fuck off."
She ran outside and hailed a taxi.
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A/N: If you look way back to the reviews of chapter 6, an anonymous person said that Hannibal wouldn't have gone to the opera without any good escape plans.
Clarice had that thought too. XD