DISCLAIMER: I don't own any characters in this story which belong to Thomas
Harris. I'm just writing fan fiction and I don't get any pay to do this so
please don't sue!
WRITER'S NOTE: Ok, this is my first attempt at a Hannibal fan fiction so I would really like to know what you think of it. Please review it and I'll write more soon. Don't be put off by the ordinary beginning of this piece, it will heat up a bit later on.(not in an R-rated way though! he he!)
The End of the Beginning
By Jane S.
Chapter 1: Decisions
Formal furnishings and lighting decorated the large office. Important FBI personal occupied all the seats, leaving only one for someone yet to come. A heavy looking man glanced at his watch, before sighing impatiently. The door opened to give way to a shapely pair of feet, in elegant yet practical shoes. She had a suit that neatly enveloped her and her hair was tied back. Special Agent Clarice Starling took her seat at the end of the table. She knew that this time there was nobody to get her out of the mess she was in.
The air was quiet as tense seconds passed by. All eyes were glued to her and it wasn't in admiration. Finally an important looking figure at the other end of the table took a breath, looking down at his papers and began to speak: "Agent Starling," he paused, "You are aware that you were on a leave of absence at the time…" He waited for her to answer.
"Yes," she replied shortly, knowing it would have the same outcome.
"And yet you still went on a pursuit for Hannibal Lecter, isn't that true?" he taunted her slightly.
"Yes," she said again. Even though she knew it was pointless, she couldn't stop herself from speaking out, "I believed that Mr. Verger had captured…"
"Ms Starling," Vander Creston interrupted, "It's simple: we ask the questions, you answer them. You give a comment when we ask for it."
Starling felt patronised and tried very hard not to say everything she was thinking out loud.
"A good agent, Mr. Krendler, is now mentally and physically disabled. You were in the same room when it happened and yet you did nothing to stop it…"
"I did everything I could," she protested standing up, "I was in a situation…"
"Sit down," Creston interrupted again, this time anger seeping through his voice. "5 men have been killed out there… one left disabled. You were responsible for shooting 4 of these to save Hannibal Lecter so that he can kill more people. How do you account for that?" His voice was raised to a dangerous level.
The air became heavier in the room and but Clarice kept herself from looking down under the weight of the stares. "I might have not been permitted on duty, but everything I did or could do back there was the best I could do. I took an oath. I believe in it. That's what I follow every second of every day." A few heads went down as if ignoring her, but she went on, knowing she might not get another chance to speak, "The oath you gave to me, not the other way 'round. And now you're accusing me of doing something wrong?"
"Ms Starling please calm down," Creston said his best not to burst out at her.
"I'll calm down," she raised her voice, "when someone takes notice of what I'm saying. I was put in a difficult situation with difficult decisions to make. I made them the best I could. And if that's not good enough for you…"
"Please, Ms Starling," This time Creston raised his voice also standing up, "don't say anything that may make it impossible for you to work in the law ever again…" he warned.
Unsatisfied, already knowing her fate, she sat back down. "I don't believe we will require your assistance any longer Ms Starling, we will contact you by phone on the decision we make concerning the future of your career…" She knew the same old routine, done so that she can't rebel against them over the phone. It made her helpless to their decision. Starling wanted to scowl at them in some way or at least let them see the contempt she possessed for the likes of them, but instead she got up and left with a plain face. As she closed the door, she heard them packing up, knowing that they had already made a decision about her. She sighed leaning against the nearest wall, as if to let out all those burdens they bestowed on her, but it only added more weight. There was nothing to be done about it now. Nothing at all. Slowly she walked down the half-empty corridor on her way to the exit.
I'll be extra generous and put up the next part today:) – Jane S.
WRITER'S NOTE: Ok, this is my first attempt at a Hannibal fan fiction so I would really like to know what you think of it. Please review it and I'll write more soon. Don't be put off by the ordinary beginning of this piece, it will heat up a bit later on.(not in an R-rated way though! he he!)
The End of the Beginning
By Jane S.
Chapter 1: Decisions
Formal furnishings and lighting decorated the large office. Important FBI personal occupied all the seats, leaving only one for someone yet to come. A heavy looking man glanced at his watch, before sighing impatiently. The door opened to give way to a shapely pair of feet, in elegant yet practical shoes. She had a suit that neatly enveloped her and her hair was tied back. Special Agent Clarice Starling took her seat at the end of the table. She knew that this time there was nobody to get her out of the mess she was in.
The air was quiet as tense seconds passed by. All eyes were glued to her and it wasn't in admiration. Finally an important looking figure at the other end of the table took a breath, looking down at his papers and began to speak: "Agent Starling," he paused, "You are aware that you were on a leave of absence at the time…" He waited for her to answer.
"Yes," she replied shortly, knowing it would have the same outcome.
"And yet you still went on a pursuit for Hannibal Lecter, isn't that true?" he taunted her slightly.
"Yes," she said again. Even though she knew it was pointless, she couldn't stop herself from speaking out, "I believed that Mr. Verger had captured…"
"Ms Starling," Vander Creston interrupted, "It's simple: we ask the questions, you answer them. You give a comment when we ask for it."
Starling felt patronised and tried very hard not to say everything she was thinking out loud.
"A good agent, Mr. Krendler, is now mentally and physically disabled. You were in the same room when it happened and yet you did nothing to stop it…"
"I did everything I could," she protested standing up, "I was in a situation…"
"Sit down," Creston interrupted again, this time anger seeping through his voice. "5 men have been killed out there… one left disabled. You were responsible for shooting 4 of these to save Hannibal Lecter so that he can kill more people. How do you account for that?" His voice was raised to a dangerous level.
The air became heavier in the room and but Clarice kept herself from looking down under the weight of the stares. "I might have not been permitted on duty, but everything I did or could do back there was the best I could do. I took an oath. I believe in it. That's what I follow every second of every day." A few heads went down as if ignoring her, but she went on, knowing she might not get another chance to speak, "The oath you gave to me, not the other way 'round. And now you're accusing me of doing something wrong?"
"Ms Starling please calm down," Creston said his best not to burst out at her.
"I'll calm down," she raised her voice, "when someone takes notice of what I'm saying. I was put in a difficult situation with difficult decisions to make. I made them the best I could. And if that's not good enough for you…"
"Please, Ms Starling," This time Creston raised his voice also standing up, "don't say anything that may make it impossible for you to work in the law ever again…" he warned.
Unsatisfied, already knowing her fate, she sat back down. "I don't believe we will require your assistance any longer Ms Starling, we will contact you by phone on the decision we make concerning the future of your career…" She knew the same old routine, done so that she can't rebel against them over the phone. It made her helpless to their decision. Starling wanted to scowl at them in some way or at least let them see the contempt she possessed for the likes of them, but instead she got up and left with a plain face. As she closed the door, she heard them packing up, knowing that they had already made a decision about her. She sighed leaning against the nearest wall, as if to let out all those burdens they bestowed on her, but it only added more weight. There was nothing to be done about it now. Nothing at all. Slowly she walked down the half-empty corridor on her way to the exit.
I'll be extra generous and put up the next part today:) – Jane S.