~Usual disclaimers apply and yadda yadda yadda. I don't own the people nor
the song, just the situation. Ta! C.S.~
Clarice Starling was coming out of her panic. She'd come back to her senses, or rather, they had come back to her. She stood, motioning for Hannibal to follow her into the bathroom.
Delia looked up as she heard the foot steps.
"S'at you Clarice?"
"Yeah, it's me Delia." Clarice said from upstairs.
Delia began to walk up the steps. She had news, and she couldn't wait to tell Clarice.
"You'll never believe what happened tonight! Damn, where are you girl?" she said as she walked into Clarice's empty bedroom.
"I'm in here." Clarice said from the bathroom.
"Oh…" Delia walked to the bathroom, opening the door. Clarice was standing with soaking wet hair in a towel. A weird time to take a shower, Delia thought. The shower curtain was closed, and it didn't look wet.
"D'you take a shower?" asked Delia.
"Nah, I just washed my hair. I couldn't sleep again, so I decided to make myself useful. Oh, and I'm wearing a towel because I didn't wanna get my clothes wet."
"Oh, that explains it. Anyway, I wanted to tell you something."
"Yeah?" Clarice said, turning to look at her.
"It's about Lecter. One of our agents saw him a couple miles away from here, they want us to go search."
"Dr. Lecter." Clarice corrected.
Delia waved away the matter with her hands, "Whatever. So get ready ok?"
"No."
"What? Clarice what's up with-"
"I said…No."
"Clarice, the guy is a fucking cannibal, he deserves whatever the hell he gets."
Clarice made her best attempt not to punch Delia. She hated it when Delia slammed on Hannibal. It was really rude.
The curtain to the shower slid open, as well as the diameter of Delia's eyes.
"It's Doctor Lecter, Agent Mapp, and I think you ought to listen to Clarice. It's very rude, you know, and I hate rude people."
Delia cocked her pistol and drew the .45 from her belt, aiming it at his head.
Clarice threw the towel off, revealing her gray shirt and shorts, and a Harpy in her hand. She held it up at Delia.
"Clarice, what the fuck is wrong with you!"
"No one fucks with my happiness."
Delia didn't shake, she had the gun after all. What she didn't expect, or see coming, was Clarice's fist, directly to her face. The gun fell out of her hands, and she fell, grabbing her cheek. She landed with a hard crack on the floor. Damn, Clarice was stronger than she thought. Clarice grabbed the gun and handed the Harpy to Hannibal. He stepped out of the bathtub and stood beside Clarice.
"Check her." Said Clarice, aiming the gun sternly at her ex- best friend and roommate Delia.
Hannibal checked Delia for other weapons, or any wires she might be wearing. Then, he pulled her up harshly and held her, her back against his chest, the Harpy firmly at her neck.
"Now, " said Clarice, "A quick Quid Pro Quo session is in order."
Clarice was talking very differently from her normal Virginian don't-give-a- fuck attitude. She was actually defending a madman!
"A what?" Delia asked shakily.
"Question and answer, Agent Mapp." Said Hannibal in her ear, his metallic voice breaking down one of the many hardened bad ass barriers around the core of her courage.
"So tell me, did you know he was here?"
"What do you mean?"
"Answer the question."
"Yes…"
"How?"
Delia, foolishly, spit at Clarice. Oh how they run to the other side when a big paycheck and/or reward is in order, Clarice thought annoyed.
Hannibal pressed on the Harpy slightly, its sharp blade piercing her skin without any trouble, a small droplet of blood forming and running down her neck smoothly. She let out something that could pass for a squeal of fright.
"Ok! I saw him come in. And I heard him talking, through the walls."
"Did you tell anyone else about him being here?"
She hesitated. A sure sign of a liar.
"No…"
"Don't lie to me, or I'll know." Clarice said, her voice now the same low tone Hannibal's had once been down in the dungeon at Baltimore. He smiled inside, hearing her repeat the words he'd once said to her.
"Yes…"
"How long do we have?"
"About ten minutes…I called them right before I came over."
"Thank you, Delia. Thank you… You've been a very big help to us so far." Clarice said.
"Another alibi to write…" Delia said under her breath.
"Oh no, Delia. You see, when I start something, I finish it." Clarice said, her eyes cold, almost black, looking like lone tombstones in a dense, midnight graveyard. Delia was hit by the sudden realization that she wasn't getting out of this alive.
She saw Clarice motion something to Hannibal, and with that, Delia felt the blade slice through her skin. She heard the skin rip, felt the slash of pain, felt the blood flow from her neck. Her hands swung up to it as he pushed her down. She knew she would die, and she knew it would be somewhat slow and very painful. The acute, raging pain in her neck made her cry out several times as she lay on the floor. She couldn't breathe, she noticed. She tried, but failed horribly, only making raspy choking sounds, bubbles of blood forming at the corners of her mouth, making tiny streams down her chin to mix with the blood on her neck, the puddle now forming on the floor, and her shirt. Her vision was black now, she couldn't see although her eyes where open and fluttering hopelessly, and could barely hear a thing. But she made out one distinct sound. The sound of a gun going off, and the jab of pain in her back, right before she let go of her life, and gave it over to the darkness she knew she'd never come back from again.
Clarice lowered the gun as Hannibal wiped off the blade of the Harpy onto Delia's shirt. Clarice made her way to her room, in order to pack so they could leave as soon as possible. Hannibal grabbed her hand, his Harpy safely put away in his coat pocket.
"No. There isn't any time, Clarice, we have to leave as soon as we can. Which, in my opinion, is right now."
"But what about my clothes? I'll need them-"
"I'll get you more clothing once we're safely out of harm. Don't worry, Clarice."
She nodded and retrieved a metal box from her dresser. Inside where all the letters from Hannibal, all the tapes of their conversations, including his and Barney's, and her cigarettes and lighter. She'd added her perfume to it, and the ring box. She kept the ring on her finger. There was no way it would ever leave it.
"Now, I'm ready."
Hannibal smiled and, his hand in Clarice's, they somewhat jogged downstairs and out the front door. He'd made sure not to leave any fingerprints, obviously. They both climbed into his truck, him driving, and sped off into the night, only now hearing the very distant sound of sirens.
~There will only be one more chapter to this story. BUT, I can tell you all now, it's not the end. There will be a sequel posted on here after it. So, whatever mean things you'll think about me after the next chapter, DON'T. The story will live on. C.S.~
Clarice Starling was coming out of her panic. She'd come back to her senses, or rather, they had come back to her. She stood, motioning for Hannibal to follow her into the bathroom.
Delia looked up as she heard the foot steps.
"S'at you Clarice?"
"Yeah, it's me Delia." Clarice said from upstairs.
Delia began to walk up the steps. She had news, and she couldn't wait to tell Clarice.
"You'll never believe what happened tonight! Damn, where are you girl?" she said as she walked into Clarice's empty bedroom.
"I'm in here." Clarice said from the bathroom.
"Oh…" Delia walked to the bathroom, opening the door. Clarice was standing with soaking wet hair in a towel. A weird time to take a shower, Delia thought. The shower curtain was closed, and it didn't look wet.
"D'you take a shower?" asked Delia.
"Nah, I just washed my hair. I couldn't sleep again, so I decided to make myself useful. Oh, and I'm wearing a towel because I didn't wanna get my clothes wet."
"Oh, that explains it. Anyway, I wanted to tell you something."
"Yeah?" Clarice said, turning to look at her.
"It's about Lecter. One of our agents saw him a couple miles away from here, they want us to go search."
"Dr. Lecter." Clarice corrected.
Delia waved away the matter with her hands, "Whatever. So get ready ok?"
"No."
"What? Clarice what's up with-"
"I said…No."
"Clarice, the guy is a fucking cannibal, he deserves whatever the hell he gets."
Clarice made her best attempt not to punch Delia. She hated it when Delia slammed on Hannibal. It was really rude.
The curtain to the shower slid open, as well as the diameter of Delia's eyes.
"It's Doctor Lecter, Agent Mapp, and I think you ought to listen to Clarice. It's very rude, you know, and I hate rude people."
Delia cocked her pistol and drew the .45 from her belt, aiming it at his head.
Clarice threw the towel off, revealing her gray shirt and shorts, and a Harpy in her hand. She held it up at Delia.
"Clarice, what the fuck is wrong with you!"
"No one fucks with my happiness."
Delia didn't shake, she had the gun after all. What she didn't expect, or see coming, was Clarice's fist, directly to her face. The gun fell out of her hands, and she fell, grabbing her cheek. She landed with a hard crack on the floor. Damn, Clarice was stronger than she thought. Clarice grabbed the gun and handed the Harpy to Hannibal. He stepped out of the bathtub and stood beside Clarice.
"Check her." Said Clarice, aiming the gun sternly at her ex- best friend and roommate Delia.
Hannibal checked Delia for other weapons, or any wires she might be wearing. Then, he pulled her up harshly and held her, her back against his chest, the Harpy firmly at her neck.
"Now, " said Clarice, "A quick Quid Pro Quo session is in order."
Clarice was talking very differently from her normal Virginian don't-give-a- fuck attitude. She was actually defending a madman!
"A what?" Delia asked shakily.
"Question and answer, Agent Mapp." Said Hannibal in her ear, his metallic voice breaking down one of the many hardened bad ass barriers around the core of her courage.
"So tell me, did you know he was here?"
"What do you mean?"
"Answer the question."
"Yes…"
"How?"
Delia, foolishly, spit at Clarice. Oh how they run to the other side when a big paycheck and/or reward is in order, Clarice thought annoyed.
Hannibal pressed on the Harpy slightly, its sharp blade piercing her skin without any trouble, a small droplet of blood forming and running down her neck smoothly. She let out something that could pass for a squeal of fright.
"Ok! I saw him come in. And I heard him talking, through the walls."
"Did you tell anyone else about him being here?"
She hesitated. A sure sign of a liar.
"No…"
"Don't lie to me, or I'll know." Clarice said, her voice now the same low tone Hannibal's had once been down in the dungeon at Baltimore. He smiled inside, hearing her repeat the words he'd once said to her.
"Yes…"
"How long do we have?"
"About ten minutes…I called them right before I came over."
"Thank you, Delia. Thank you… You've been a very big help to us so far." Clarice said.
"Another alibi to write…" Delia said under her breath.
"Oh no, Delia. You see, when I start something, I finish it." Clarice said, her eyes cold, almost black, looking like lone tombstones in a dense, midnight graveyard. Delia was hit by the sudden realization that she wasn't getting out of this alive.
She saw Clarice motion something to Hannibal, and with that, Delia felt the blade slice through her skin. She heard the skin rip, felt the slash of pain, felt the blood flow from her neck. Her hands swung up to it as he pushed her down. She knew she would die, and she knew it would be somewhat slow and very painful. The acute, raging pain in her neck made her cry out several times as she lay on the floor. She couldn't breathe, she noticed. She tried, but failed horribly, only making raspy choking sounds, bubbles of blood forming at the corners of her mouth, making tiny streams down her chin to mix with the blood on her neck, the puddle now forming on the floor, and her shirt. Her vision was black now, she couldn't see although her eyes where open and fluttering hopelessly, and could barely hear a thing. But she made out one distinct sound. The sound of a gun going off, and the jab of pain in her back, right before she let go of her life, and gave it over to the darkness she knew she'd never come back from again.
Clarice lowered the gun as Hannibal wiped off the blade of the Harpy onto Delia's shirt. Clarice made her way to her room, in order to pack so they could leave as soon as possible. Hannibal grabbed her hand, his Harpy safely put away in his coat pocket.
"No. There isn't any time, Clarice, we have to leave as soon as we can. Which, in my opinion, is right now."
"But what about my clothes? I'll need them-"
"I'll get you more clothing once we're safely out of harm. Don't worry, Clarice."
She nodded and retrieved a metal box from her dresser. Inside where all the letters from Hannibal, all the tapes of their conversations, including his and Barney's, and her cigarettes and lighter. She'd added her perfume to it, and the ring box. She kept the ring on her finger. There was no way it would ever leave it.
"Now, I'm ready."
Hannibal smiled and, his hand in Clarice's, they somewhat jogged downstairs and out the front door. He'd made sure not to leave any fingerprints, obviously. They both climbed into his truck, him driving, and sped off into the night, only now hearing the very distant sound of sirens.
~There will only be one more chapter to this story. BUT, I can tell you all now, it's not the end. There will be a sequel posted on here after it. So, whatever mean things you'll think about me after the next chapter, DON'T. The story will live on. C.S.~