5
Clarice sat with her legs crossed, and her hands folded neatly in her lap as she listened to her superiors discussing her fate. Or, rather, trying not to listen. What they were saying had less to do with her than it did with themselves, so she allowed her mind to wander off into the past.
You fell in love with the Bureau, only to discover... it does not love you back
The man sitting on her left threw her a sharp look. "Are you cold, Agent Starling?" he asked, voice containing poorly concealed contempt.
She tilted her head to look at him, keeping her voice even despite the frustration hardening in the pit of her stomach. "No sir. Why do you ask?"
"You just shivered."
"No sir."
Do you know why they resent you, Clarice?… They resent you because you're not like them
She managed not to shiver again, with the doctor's silken tones running through her mind. The feeling was increasing with every moment, every memory - she was missing something. Something important. Something, perhaps, that would help them all immeasurably if she could just remember what it was. It was that infuriating feeling, too, of something being right there... just barely out of reach, buried in her memories.
"Do you understand, Agent Starling?" a deep voice cut through her thoughts.
"I'm sorry sir, I was thinking. What was that?" she replied, though she was loathe to let the torpid, inept, acerebral colleagues of hers know that she had not been paying attention.
The man who had spoken frowned at her for a moment, to try and express his disapproval of her, before repeating the decision that the group of them had made. "You, Agent Starling, will be put into protective custody, as well as Agent Mapp. Your home will be monitored for further contact from Lecter. Most importantly, you are not to pursue him or seek him out, regardless of our findings. As long as that is understood, we will keep you posted on the progress made by Agent Thorp."
Agent Thorp. A very skilled, talented Agent, Clarice knew that full well. But she had to protest, as she knew that Hannibal Lecter wouldn't care in the slightest whether or not the person they sent was a skilled, talented Agent. It wouldn't be her. "Sir, I'm the one that Dr. Lecter responds to. If you send someone else after him, you won't..."
"Agent Starling!" The man interrupted, slapping one hand on top of the table in anger that was not at all proportionate to whatever offense he seemed to think she was causing. "You are under the suspicion of having an affair with a known criminal, and perhaps aiding in his escape on multiple occasions. If we send you after him, you may as well kiss your job, your life, and your ass good-bye. Particularly if he got away again."
Starling's jaw clenched at that, but she gave a stiff nod to indicate her understanding, and agreement to these terms. The man raised his hand from the tabletop, and flicked his fingers at the person sitting on her right, who then rose and escorted her out the door, to a car waiting to take her, first home to get together a few things, and then to their decided safe house. Mapp was already inside.
Before climbing into the car Clarice turned for another look at the building that she had devoted so many years of her life to. It was heartbreaking to turn her back on it, climb into the car, and drive away with the knowledge that she had no hopes of rebuilding her career.
It's you I'm worried about... I'm fine, Dr. Lecter... No, you're most certainly not fine...
She could hear the doctor saying that, and this time she knew it to be true.
**********
Dr. Lecter watched, through the lenses of his high quality binoculars, as the unmarked car pulled smoothly away from the curb, bearing its special cargo to a supposedly safe destination... he could just barely see a hint of her flaming red hair through the window, at this distance.
"See you soon... Clarice," he murmured to himself, and leisurely started up his car, softly humming the Goldberg Variations.
**********
"Without a doubt, this is the most fucking ludicrous thing I've ever heard in my entire life," Ardelia stated, pleasant in her anger, as she tossed her knapsack into one of the dilapidated armchairs that graced their new home.
Clarice just sighed her agreement, and doubtfully went to open the fridge. "Ardy, I think you're going to have to retract that statement, once you hear what they've given us to eat," she said dryly, and momentarily reappeared in the living room with a beer in each hand. "But, they did supply us with plenty to drink."
Mapp just snorted as she reached out to accept her beverage. "Even if all they gave us was spam and Eggo waffles I don't think it could beat this."
"Well. They also gave us some frozen French fries," Clarice replied, solemn as she popped the top off her bottle, and took a long swallow.
"You and I are living the high life now, my friend!" Ardelia said, with her tone dripping with sarcasm. She was not at all pleased with being wrenched from her comfortable home, and comfortable life. No matter the danger. "Now, Clarice, since we're alone... I really need to have a serious discussion with you."
"'Bout what, Ardy?"
"About your taste in men, quite frankly. First that creep you told me about, from high school... Simon? Then Hannibal the Cannibal, then Greg-The- Snake. This isn't a good record, hon."
Clarice just glared at her for a moment, trying to show just how very not amusing she found that statement to be... yet she spoiled it with a flicker of a smile.
"Seriously, Starling, you keep falling for the ones that hurt you. I mean, falling for one asshole is bad enough, but..."
Clarice tuned her out at that point, thinking frantically. It had come to her, thanks to those words from her friend. 'The ones that hurt you.' 'Greg- The-Snake.'
Hey Clarice, how about I do it for you? Hurt them. The ones that have hurt you
"Damnit!" Clarice shouted, causing Ardelia to stop short with her eyes widened in surprise.
Clarice didn't hesitate for a minute, not even to stop her beer from spilling where she knocked it over, after jumping out of her chair. She went straight to the door that led to the room where their so-called 'bodyguard' was waiting for them. More like their jailor. "Agent Foster? Agent Foster, I need to make a phone call!"
A voice, sounding bored and completely uninterested in the source of her panic drifted back through the door. "No phone calls. Mr. Pledge gave me explicit instructions."
Ten minutes of coaxing, commanding, explaining and threatening got her nowhere.
All this time Mapp looked on with worry that her friend was, perhaps, going insane... and her anxiety was in no way lessened when she got no explanation. Clarice just went into her bedroom, and locked the door. It stayed that way all evening.
**********
Bzzzzz.
Bzzzzz.
Bzzzzz.
Clarice woke from her fitful slumber to that noise, buzzing somewhere in her room. For a few minutes she thought, perhaps, it was something out of her dream as it stopped once she was fully awake. But five minutes later it began again, the same even buzzing.
Bzzzzz.
Bzzzzz.
Bzzzzz.
A pause, then the cycle repeated itself, while Clarice began searching, her mind muddled from sleep and confusion. The buzzing stopped. Five minutes later it began again, the exact same way... but it was barely through the fourth buzz when she finally found the source.
Her bag. The clothes that she'd gathered together in such a rush. The slippers that she'd thrown in at the last minute. The cell phone tucked neatly away in the toe of the left slipper.
She knew. She didn't even have to wonder, she just knew, without a doubt, who it would be. She pressed the button, and raised the cell phone to her ear, steeled for the voice she knew would come over the line. "Hello?"
"Well hello, Clarice."
"Dr. Lecter, don't do it."
"My dear Clarice, whatever could you mean?"
"Gregory Smythe, that's what I mean."
"You're a clever girl, Clarice. No, I couldn't possibly do it. It's the middle of the night. I shall have to wait until tomorrow evening, for dinner. Care to join me?"
"I've a feeling you know I can't, Dr. Lecter."
"Ah yes," he murmured, amusement in his tone. "The protective custody. The F.B.I. has you, one of their own, imprisoned while I walk free the streets. Isn't it ironic?"
"I suppose it is. You wouldn't have called if there wasn't something you wanted. What is it?"
"Just the pleasure of your company, as I said."
Clarice froze. Those words, his voice... it hadn't come from the phone. She spun around, and there he was. Her first sight of him after a full year, in this little rat's hole of an apartment, him dressed in an elegant suit, perfect for the sort of elegant dinner that she knew he had in mind. She found herself speechless.
"It's too bad you're not wearing a dress, Clarice, like last time.... but your nightgown will serve well enough."
Clarice looked down at herself, having forgotten that she'd donned one of her few actual nightgowns. White, strappy, lacy. Elegant. She opened her mouth to call for Ardelia, and Dr. Lecter was in front of her in an instant, his finger held up to her lips.
"Hush, Clarice. You know better than that. If they knew I were here, they'd have to join our intimate dinner... and that wouldn't do at all, now would it?" he said, quietly.
She shut her mouth, jaw tight as her body tensed from his nearness. Already she was searching for something, anything, that could be used a weapon against him. She even considered biting the finger that he held before her... but somehow couldn't quite bring herself to do it. It felt like that would almost bring her to his level. To make her the same as he was.
Hannibal eyed her for a moment, with something close to fondness in his reddish-brown eyes, before he spoke again. "Now get your coat, Clarice. It's time to go. And remember... hush."
She raised her eyes to meet his, felt a pang of something unidentifiable in her stomach... then silently went to get her jacket. There was nothing else for her to do. Not if she hoped, at all, to save Gregory's life.
**********
Author's Note: It's coming along well, no? I hope so. I'm loving writing it! I'd like to thank Diana, StrawberryLecter, BlueRoses, ZechsMerquise, Nanci, and Nanci! I'm loving Nanci. Three cheers for Nanci! ^.-
Clarice sat with her legs crossed, and her hands folded neatly in her lap as she listened to her superiors discussing her fate. Or, rather, trying not to listen. What they were saying had less to do with her than it did with themselves, so she allowed her mind to wander off into the past.
You fell in love with the Bureau, only to discover... it does not love you back
The man sitting on her left threw her a sharp look. "Are you cold, Agent Starling?" he asked, voice containing poorly concealed contempt.
She tilted her head to look at him, keeping her voice even despite the frustration hardening in the pit of her stomach. "No sir. Why do you ask?"
"You just shivered."
"No sir."
Do you know why they resent you, Clarice?… They resent you because you're not like them
She managed not to shiver again, with the doctor's silken tones running through her mind. The feeling was increasing with every moment, every memory - she was missing something. Something important. Something, perhaps, that would help them all immeasurably if she could just remember what it was. It was that infuriating feeling, too, of something being right there... just barely out of reach, buried in her memories.
"Do you understand, Agent Starling?" a deep voice cut through her thoughts.
"I'm sorry sir, I was thinking. What was that?" she replied, though she was loathe to let the torpid, inept, acerebral colleagues of hers know that she had not been paying attention.
The man who had spoken frowned at her for a moment, to try and express his disapproval of her, before repeating the decision that the group of them had made. "You, Agent Starling, will be put into protective custody, as well as Agent Mapp. Your home will be monitored for further contact from Lecter. Most importantly, you are not to pursue him or seek him out, regardless of our findings. As long as that is understood, we will keep you posted on the progress made by Agent Thorp."
Agent Thorp. A very skilled, talented Agent, Clarice knew that full well. But she had to protest, as she knew that Hannibal Lecter wouldn't care in the slightest whether or not the person they sent was a skilled, talented Agent. It wouldn't be her. "Sir, I'm the one that Dr. Lecter responds to. If you send someone else after him, you won't..."
"Agent Starling!" The man interrupted, slapping one hand on top of the table in anger that was not at all proportionate to whatever offense he seemed to think she was causing. "You are under the suspicion of having an affair with a known criminal, and perhaps aiding in his escape on multiple occasions. If we send you after him, you may as well kiss your job, your life, and your ass good-bye. Particularly if he got away again."
Starling's jaw clenched at that, but she gave a stiff nod to indicate her understanding, and agreement to these terms. The man raised his hand from the tabletop, and flicked his fingers at the person sitting on her right, who then rose and escorted her out the door, to a car waiting to take her, first home to get together a few things, and then to their decided safe house. Mapp was already inside.
Before climbing into the car Clarice turned for another look at the building that she had devoted so many years of her life to. It was heartbreaking to turn her back on it, climb into the car, and drive away with the knowledge that she had no hopes of rebuilding her career.
It's you I'm worried about... I'm fine, Dr. Lecter... No, you're most certainly not fine...
She could hear the doctor saying that, and this time she knew it to be true.
**********
Dr. Lecter watched, through the lenses of his high quality binoculars, as the unmarked car pulled smoothly away from the curb, bearing its special cargo to a supposedly safe destination... he could just barely see a hint of her flaming red hair through the window, at this distance.
"See you soon... Clarice," he murmured to himself, and leisurely started up his car, softly humming the Goldberg Variations.
**********
"Without a doubt, this is the most fucking ludicrous thing I've ever heard in my entire life," Ardelia stated, pleasant in her anger, as she tossed her knapsack into one of the dilapidated armchairs that graced their new home.
Clarice just sighed her agreement, and doubtfully went to open the fridge. "Ardy, I think you're going to have to retract that statement, once you hear what they've given us to eat," she said dryly, and momentarily reappeared in the living room with a beer in each hand. "But, they did supply us with plenty to drink."
Mapp just snorted as she reached out to accept her beverage. "Even if all they gave us was spam and Eggo waffles I don't think it could beat this."
"Well. They also gave us some frozen French fries," Clarice replied, solemn as she popped the top off her bottle, and took a long swallow.
"You and I are living the high life now, my friend!" Ardelia said, with her tone dripping with sarcasm. She was not at all pleased with being wrenched from her comfortable home, and comfortable life. No matter the danger. "Now, Clarice, since we're alone... I really need to have a serious discussion with you."
"'Bout what, Ardy?"
"About your taste in men, quite frankly. First that creep you told me about, from high school... Simon? Then Hannibal the Cannibal, then Greg-The- Snake. This isn't a good record, hon."
Clarice just glared at her for a moment, trying to show just how very not amusing she found that statement to be... yet she spoiled it with a flicker of a smile.
"Seriously, Starling, you keep falling for the ones that hurt you. I mean, falling for one asshole is bad enough, but..."
Clarice tuned her out at that point, thinking frantically. It had come to her, thanks to those words from her friend. 'The ones that hurt you.' 'Greg- The-Snake.'
Hey Clarice, how about I do it for you? Hurt them. The ones that have hurt you
"Damnit!" Clarice shouted, causing Ardelia to stop short with her eyes widened in surprise.
Clarice didn't hesitate for a minute, not even to stop her beer from spilling where she knocked it over, after jumping out of her chair. She went straight to the door that led to the room where their so-called 'bodyguard' was waiting for them. More like their jailor. "Agent Foster? Agent Foster, I need to make a phone call!"
A voice, sounding bored and completely uninterested in the source of her panic drifted back through the door. "No phone calls. Mr. Pledge gave me explicit instructions."
Ten minutes of coaxing, commanding, explaining and threatening got her nowhere.
All this time Mapp looked on with worry that her friend was, perhaps, going insane... and her anxiety was in no way lessened when she got no explanation. Clarice just went into her bedroom, and locked the door. It stayed that way all evening.
**********
Bzzzzz.
Bzzzzz.
Bzzzzz.
Clarice woke from her fitful slumber to that noise, buzzing somewhere in her room. For a few minutes she thought, perhaps, it was something out of her dream as it stopped once she was fully awake. But five minutes later it began again, the same even buzzing.
Bzzzzz.
Bzzzzz.
Bzzzzz.
A pause, then the cycle repeated itself, while Clarice began searching, her mind muddled from sleep and confusion. The buzzing stopped. Five minutes later it began again, the exact same way... but it was barely through the fourth buzz when she finally found the source.
Her bag. The clothes that she'd gathered together in such a rush. The slippers that she'd thrown in at the last minute. The cell phone tucked neatly away in the toe of the left slipper.
She knew. She didn't even have to wonder, she just knew, without a doubt, who it would be. She pressed the button, and raised the cell phone to her ear, steeled for the voice she knew would come over the line. "Hello?"
"Well hello, Clarice."
"Dr. Lecter, don't do it."
"My dear Clarice, whatever could you mean?"
"Gregory Smythe, that's what I mean."
"You're a clever girl, Clarice. No, I couldn't possibly do it. It's the middle of the night. I shall have to wait until tomorrow evening, for dinner. Care to join me?"
"I've a feeling you know I can't, Dr. Lecter."
"Ah yes," he murmured, amusement in his tone. "The protective custody. The F.B.I. has you, one of their own, imprisoned while I walk free the streets. Isn't it ironic?"
"I suppose it is. You wouldn't have called if there wasn't something you wanted. What is it?"
"Just the pleasure of your company, as I said."
Clarice froze. Those words, his voice... it hadn't come from the phone. She spun around, and there he was. Her first sight of him after a full year, in this little rat's hole of an apartment, him dressed in an elegant suit, perfect for the sort of elegant dinner that she knew he had in mind. She found herself speechless.
"It's too bad you're not wearing a dress, Clarice, like last time.... but your nightgown will serve well enough."
Clarice looked down at herself, having forgotten that she'd donned one of her few actual nightgowns. White, strappy, lacy. Elegant. She opened her mouth to call for Ardelia, and Dr. Lecter was in front of her in an instant, his finger held up to her lips.
"Hush, Clarice. You know better than that. If they knew I were here, they'd have to join our intimate dinner... and that wouldn't do at all, now would it?" he said, quietly.
She shut her mouth, jaw tight as her body tensed from his nearness. Already she was searching for something, anything, that could be used a weapon against him. She even considered biting the finger that he held before her... but somehow couldn't quite bring herself to do it. It felt like that would almost bring her to his level. To make her the same as he was.
Hannibal eyed her for a moment, with something close to fondness in his reddish-brown eyes, before he spoke again. "Now get your coat, Clarice. It's time to go. And remember... hush."
She raised her eyes to meet his, felt a pang of something unidentifiable in her stomach... then silently went to get her jacket. There was nothing else for her to do. Not if she hoped, at all, to save Gregory's life.
**********
Author's Note: It's coming along well, no? I hope so. I'm loving writing it! I'd like to thank Diana, StrawberryLecter, BlueRoses, ZechsMerquise, Nanci, and Nanci! I'm loving Nanci. Three cheers for Nanci! ^.-
