Yahoo!! I finished school, so now I can write all summer!!!

Add the usual "I borrowed them, don't hurt me!"

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Clarice stomped into her bedroom and slammed the door so hard it bounced open again. She ignored it and flopped down on her bed with a huff. It was all HIS fault! He had his fun, played his little games and then disappeared. Which left her to deal with the consequences. She risked her neck to get his sorry ass out of trouble and what does she get for her efforts? More shit! Not that his ass was that sorry. Actually when she thought about it, he had a pretty nice ass. She started to giggle. Here she was facing the loss of her career and perhaps criminal charges and what was she thinking about? Dr. Lecter's backside. She began to laugh in earnest.

You've had him rolling around in your head too long, she thought to herself. You've finally flipped! Her laughter calmed as she considered her probable insanity; nothing else could explain her recent actions. She'd rescued a sociopathic serial killer/cannibal from a horrible death at the hands of one of his victims. She watched him cut up her nemesis, and then kissed him after, in the kitchen. After loosing him in the forest, she'd fallen asleep with the man as he drove her home. Yup, insane, that was her story and she was sticking to it! Hey, it had worked for him. Maybe being crazy wasn't all that bad. He certainly seemed to have fun. She started to giggle again as she considered that driving herself nuts probably wasn't what he'd had in mind when he'd told her she needed to get more fun out of life.

She sighed and tried to make herself mad again, but she just couldn't. Despite the gravity of the situation she now found herself in, she didn't feel any significant sense of loss. She tried to think about the worst case scenario; she'd be fired and prosecuted as an accessory. As she considered that outcome she acknowledged that loosing her job was more than likely, but the FBI wouldn't want the press attention that a criminal trial would attract. She'd had more than her fair share of the spotlight over the years, and she doubted the disapproving higher-ups would want that harsh light shining on her and reflecting back on the FBI.

So, she was going to loose her job. She rolled over on her stomach as she flipped that idea around in her head. Again she felt no anger or sadness; if she was honest with herself, she felt resigned relief. It was like a bad marriage where the other spouse finally decided to call it quits. She hadn't wanted a divorce, but now that it was happening, she wasn't going to fight it. She'd fallen out of love with her work long ago. She groaned as she realized the origin of her analogy. He was always with her, through the good, the bad and the ugly. It drove her nuts, when she was conscious of her thoughts not being entirely her own, but it was also comforting. She remembered Crawford warning her that she didn't want him in her head. She didn't agree. Sometimes the only thing that kept her going during the day was the penetrating voice that made amusing and pointed remarks in the back of her head. If anyone else had been privy to some of the conversations she had with him in her head, her mental stability would have been called into question long ago. His comments about prospective boyfriends were always very funny, but they also kept her single. She wondered if she'd ever meet someone who measured up the doctor's impeccable standards. Now that she wasn't going to be an agent any longer, she briefly entertained thoughts of having a family, before pushing them away as irrelevant.

Dr. Lecter had gotten away again! Somehow, she wasn't entirely sorry. It troubled her that she'd fallen asleep in his presence, but not because it pointed to any lack in her training. It bothered her because it showed just how comfortable, even if only subconsciously, she was with the man. What that said about her personality she wasn't entirely sure. She snickered at the thought that his intangible presence in her head, for all these years, had let her be more comfortable with a serial killer than she was with any other person she knew.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flicker of motion. She whipped her head around to see the door slowly being pushed open. She rolled to her feet in one swift motion and dropped into a defensive crouch. Surely to God, he hadn't come back!

He wouldn't stick around when everyone was looking for him – or would he?

Oh God, oh God, was all she could think as the door inched open. It took her confused mind a minute to realize that there was no one in the hall.

What the devil?

Then she glanced down to see a sleek gray cat hesitantly sniffing the air just inside the threshold. Her sigh of relief was audible as she straightened up and returned the feline's green gaze.

"Where'd you come from hmmm?" she asked, as the cat padded over to her and rubbed up against her leg. "You gave me quite a scare," she said as she picked the cat up and sat back down on her bed. She scratched the tabby under the chin eliciting a soft purr. "I thought you were… oh, never mind," she shook her head with a chuckle. She was starting to spook herself. There was no way he was anywhere within a hundred mile of here by now.

"I'm glad you find the situation so amusing, Clarice," said a voice from the doorway.

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Hehe…yah for rule number four!!! Luna.