Many people to bealive , with the rather large abundance spy and crime movies availible in America today , that when you are a large-scale figutive you live in luxury. Villas in Italy , huge palaces in India , and an overlooking flat by the Seine in Paris. If this were true , there would be much more crime in the world today , but unfortunately , it is not. And that was apparent to Calandra Knott.
She was laying in the short motel room bath tub now , the cheap rust stains on the bottom and repulsive stains on the wall not scaring her away. It had been a very long , very stressful day for her and, by god , if she wanted to take a bubble bath she would take a bubble bath!
Her green tea oil shampoo had been the only thing that she had bothered to take from the home , simply for luxury purposes later on , and it was a soothing scent as she lay practically curled up in the too-hot water. Calandra's head was tipped back against the wall and her eyes closed , she was trying to both forget this morning and remember at the same time. But the task was harder than said , apparently , as a few occasional tears crept down the side of her face and she wiped them away with an already wet hand ,masking the sight.
"Damn..." Calandra muttered to herself about nothing inparticular , and sighed deeply.
Truth was , she was now believing that that had been the stupidest thing she'd ever done. Not only had she killed her only alias , but her mother and confidant as well. She was angry , sad , and very , very , annoyed for herself , and it appeared it wouldn't go away for quite some time.
Opening her eyes to hard reality ,Calandra looked to the small clock in the even smaller bathroom , and sighed , rinsing her hair hurriedly and rising from the tub. She wrapped the bathrobe about her form tightly and padded over to the mirror outside of the bathroom.
"Why do I always cause so much trouble? Why did I even start this in the first place?" Calandra questioned the woman in the mirror , toweling at her face to dry it off and reaching for the hairdryer.
'Because you needed the perfect companion for the job...you obviously couldn't live that life alone , Calandra. You needed to kill. And you needed a companion. Why better , than Hannibal Lecter? He will come , you'll see...' The woman responded
She frowned at the mirror , enraged by her mind's view. "And what if he is angry with me for copying some of his work?"
The woman smiled at her , ready to respond with some snappy comment or another , but Calandra was quicker. She grabbed for the hair dryer and flipped it on high as it went , turning from her rogue reflection and working on her hair rather obsessively. She knew what she needed to feel better tonight , a kill. Just one.
Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling ,both proffessionally and unproffessionally , were about as different as you couldget. You had the F.B.I. and the serial killer , and then you had the deep , daring psychiatrist , and the moral induced warrior. Yes , logic would say that both would probably be hacking at each others throat right about now , but since when is logic a part of anything?
Typically then , it had been with great reluctance as Clarice had packed her clothing that next morning. Hannibal had stood watch over her , making occasional suggestions and refections about her packing , and she had followed them silently ,not speaking an entire sentence this whole morning. The only problems that they had run into involved one call from the F.B.I. regarding the fact she was five minutes late into the office. Clarice had coughed , and sputtered , and made quite a scene until they were finally convinced she had caught some tropical disease or another , and called off the hounds.
"Are we leaving now , Hannibal?" She asked him later around nine a.m. , pulling her suit case from her bedroom and into the living room.
Doctor Lecter sat on the couch watching theighbourhood out of her window. He had dressed this morning like any other man out there , finishing off the windbreaker and slacks with a black baseball cap and sunglasses. Lecter turned his head to her and rose from his seat with his small smile , moving forward to take her suit case and pick it up with ease. Clarice had insisted she bring her own things , and he hadn't protested much to the idea.
"Yes , Clarice , do you have everything?"
She nodded solemly. "Yes , Or at least I should. If I don't , too late now."
Hannibal smiled pleasantly , "Good girl."
He turned to the door and inclined his head towards it. Immediately , Clarice stepped in front of him and strode up to her front door , opening it and stepping outside to hold the screen open for him. Hannibal then proceeded through with her suitcase , side stepping around her , and picked up his pace down the front stairs while she shut and locked the doors.
Clarice turned back around , dropping her keys back into purse , and watched Hannibal load the suit case into the trunk of her car. She stood there for a moment and reflected. They were taking her car now , as he had said that it would be too dangerous to use his own. Last night he had explained everything to her , and Hannibal had then explained they were staying in New York City , where he did not say , to track down this killer further. Doctor Lecter had told her late last night , that he already had some ideas where tolok , but this was all he said. Yes , and late last night...She smiled on herself inside , let's just not talk about that...
"Clarice? Are you coming?" Hannibal called from the street , looking up at her humrously.
She then realized the had been staring , and blushed lightly ,but it soon subsided as she remembered who she was in reference to.Clarice did not reply , but stepped swiftly down the stairs and side walk , making her way over to the car. Hannibal , head inclined downwards , opened the door and Clarice ducked inside. Shelooked up to him as he shut the door ,and through the tinted glass Hannibal Lecter smiled at her.
Clarice suppressed the small shudder that threatened to give way , and watches him walk around the car. The world seemed to move in a daze now , and her head was spinning. To run away with Hannibal Lecter...But she froze there. Was she running away from the FBI? Clarice looked over to Lecter , head tilted a bit in question while he climbed into the car next to her. Was she truthfully running away with Hannibal The Cannibal Lecter? Well , what had she thought. Lie to the FBI to catch a crook on her own with a serial killer , and then go back to her job as if nothing had happenned? She frowned , the lines of appearing age on her face exagerated deeply...
"Is something wrong , Clarice?" A melodic voice at her side soothed into her thoughts , and Clarice turned her gaze back onto the man driving the car. She hadn't even realized that the car had began moving...
"No, I'm fine." she recited as they moved slowly down the neighbourhood's lane , stopping momentarily for a child as it dashed across the road maybe 6 metres in front of them.
"No , Clarice," Hannibal's voice was back in her head , guiding her , as it was at her side right now. The small car turned a right corner , and he began again. "We've been through this before."
She sighed very lightly , and could almost hear his mocking comments as she did so. "Please , not now?"
"Clarice , We have all the time in the world , I must admit , but none like so. Please , continue."
She fell silent there , leaning back in her seat , and Hannibal spared her a simple glance full of curiosity and concern for his little starling in the passenger seat. He turned back to the road , and unease fell over their veichle.
Much , much later , Clarice was dissapointed as they walked the sidewalk of a small motor hotel. It was painted a foul light blue , with plastic chairs sitting outside of all of the rooms , and as they climbed the concrete stairs to the next outdoor level , she tipped over a bottle of beer laying across the step. It tipped , and shattered , the amber liquid creeping down the stairs. Clarice paused to watch it's descent , and frowned as she watched most of the bottle's contents creep over Hannibal's italian leather shoes.
She looked up to Lecter , who had paused to watch as well , and he looked up to her as well , look unreadable. Clarice shuddered and turned back to the task at hand , jogging up the stairs and onto the second level , across the shabby balcony.
"Which room did you say...Hannibal?"
He paused for a moment , and then she heard "b7" called out to her. Clarice stopped abruptly , backingup a step , and they were in front of their motel room.
"Hopefully it isn't as bad as the rest of this place." She muttered to herself , nudging the keys into the door and was sure than she felt Hannibal Lecter smile at her side.
"Indeed , Clarice."
As she opened the door , feeling over the wall for a light switch , another door down the way opened , and a figure stepped out. Hannibal turned his eyes to it as light flooded their room and Clarice stepped inside , raising his eyebrows. The figure turned towards them , and his curiosity was sparked even more. A middlesized woman , as if appeared , probably young , Hannibal reasoned. She was dressed in a long brown coat and dark colours , her head bent to the ground as she brushed past him. He frowned deeply at her , recognizing her as a typical rude or off balance...But he didn't quite think so.
Hannibal sighed to himself , looking back to the bedroom and stepped inside , toting Clarice's luggage.
"Oh , Hannibal , you should see this bathtub...terrible!" her voice called from the bathroom.
A.N.- Bwahahaha...And the plot thickens!!! Confused? Don't really get it at all? Think about it , and it'll be cleared up next chapter...
She was laying in the short motel room bath tub now , the cheap rust stains on the bottom and repulsive stains on the wall not scaring her away. It had been a very long , very stressful day for her and, by god , if she wanted to take a bubble bath she would take a bubble bath!
Her green tea oil shampoo had been the only thing that she had bothered to take from the home , simply for luxury purposes later on , and it was a soothing scent as she lay practically curled up in the too-hot water. Calandra's head was tipped back against the wall and her eyes closed , she was trying to both forget this morning and remember at the same time. But the task was harder than said , apparently , as a few occasional tears crept down the side of her face and she wiped them away with an already wet hand ,masking the sight.
"Damn..." Calandra muttered to herself about nothing inparticular , and sighed deeply.
Truth was , she was now believing that that had been the stupidest thing she'd ever done. Not only had she killed her only alias , but her mother and confidant as well. She was angry , sad , and very , very , annoyed for herself , and it appeared it wouldn't go away for quite some time.
Opening her eyes to hard reality ,Calandra looked to the small clock in the even smaller bathroom , and sighed , rinsing her hair hurriedly and rising from the tub. She wrapped the bathrobe about her form tightly and padded over to the mirror outside of the bathroom.
"Why do I always cause so much trouble? Why did I even start this in the first place?" Calandra questioned the woman in the mirror , toweling at her face to dry it off and reaching for the hairdryer.
'Because you needed the perfect companion for the job...you obviously couldn't live that life alone , Calandra. You needed to kill. And you needed a companion. Why better , than Hannibal Lecter? He will come , you'll see...' The woman responded
She frowned at the mirror , enraged by her mind's view. "And what if he is angry with me for copying some of his work?"
The woman smiled at her , ready to respond with some snappy comment or another , but Calandra was quicker. She grabbed for the hair dryer and flipped it on high as it went , turning from her rogue reflection and working on her hair rather obsessively. She knew what she needed to feel better tonight , a kill. Just one.
Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling ,both proffessionally and unproffessionally , were about as different as you couldget. You had the F.B.I. and the serial killer , and then you had the deep , daring psychiatrist , and the moral induced warrior. Yes , logic would say that both would probably be hacking at each others throat right about now , but since when is logic a part of anything?
Typically then , it had been with great reluctance as Clarice had packed her clothing that next morning. Hannibal had stood watch over her , making occasional suggestions and refections about her packing , and she had followed them silently ,not speaking an entire sentence this whole morning. The only problems that they had run into involved one call from the F.B.I. regarding the fact she was five minutes late into the office. Clarice had coughed , and sputtered , and made quite a scene until they were finally convinced she had caught some tropical disease or another , and called off the hounds.
"Are we leaving now , Hannibal?" She asked him later around nine a.m. , pulling her suit case from her bedroom and into the living room.
Doctor Lecter sat on the couch watching theighbourhood out of her window. He had dressed this morning like any other man out there , finishing off the windbreaker and slacks with a black baseball cap and sunglasses. Lecter turned his head to her and rose from his seat with his small smile , moving forward to take her suit case and pick it up with ease. Clarice had insisted she bring her own things , and he hadn't protested much to the idea.
"Yes , Clarice , do you have everything?"
She nodded solemly. "Yes , Or at least I should. If I don't , too late now."
Hannibal smiled pleasantly , "Good girl."
He turned to the door and inclined his head towards it. Immediately , Clarice stepped in front of him and strode up to her front door , opening it and stepping outside to hold the screen open for him. Hannibal then proceeded through with her suitcase , side stepping around her , and picked up his pace down the front stairs while she shut and locked the doors.
Clarice turned back around , dropping her keys back into purse , and watched Hannibal load the suit case into the trunk of her car. She stood there for a moment and reflected. They were taking her car now , as he had said that it would be too dangerous to use his own. Last night he had explained everything to her , and Hannibal had then explained they were staying in New York City , where he did not say , to track down this killer further. Doctor Lecter had told her late last night , that he already had some ideas where tolok , but this was all he said. Yes , and late last night...She smiled on herself inside , let's just not talk about that...
"Clarice? Are you coming?" Hannibal called from the street , looking up at her humrously.
She then realized the had been staring , and blushed lightly ,but it soon subsided as she remembered who she was in reference to.Clarice did not reply , but stepped swiftly down the stairs and side walk , making her way over to the car. Hannibal , head inclined downwards , opened the door and Clarice ducked inside. Shelooked up to him as he shut the door ,and through the tinted glass Hannibal Lecter smiled at her.
Clarice suppressed the small shudder that threatened to give way , and watches him walk around the car. The world seemed to move in a daze now , and her head was spinning. To run away with Hannibal Lecter...But she froze there. Was she running away from the FBI? Clarice looked over to Lecter , head tilted a bit in question while he climbed into the car next to her. Was she truthfully running away with Hannibal The Cannibal Lecter? Well , what had she thought. Lie to the FBI to catch a crook on her own with a serial killer , and then go back to her job as if nothing had happenned? She frowned , the lines of appearing age on her face exagerated deeply...
"Is something wrong , Clarice?" A melodic voice at her side soothed into her thoughts , and Clarice turned her gaze back onto the man driving the car. She hadn't even realized that the car had began moving...
"No, I'm fine." she recited as they moved slowly down the neighbourhood's lane , stopping momentarily for a child as it dashed across the road maybe 6 metres in front of them.
"No , Clarice," Hannibal's voice was back in her head , guiding her , as it was at her side right now. The small car turned a right corner , and he began again. "We've been through this before."
She sighed very lightly , and could almost hear his mocking comments as she did so. "Please , not now?"
"Clarice , We have all the time in the world , I must admit , but none like so. Please , continue."
She fell silent there , leaning back in her seat , and Hannibal spared her a simple glance full of curiosity and concern for his little starling in the passenger seat. He turned back to the road , and unease fell over their veichle.
Much , much later , Clarice was dissapointed as they walked the sidewalk of a small motor hotel. It was painted a foul light blue , with plastic chairs sitting outside of all of the rooms , and as they climbed the concrete stairs to the next outdoor level , she tipped over a bottle of beer laying across the step. It tipped , and shattered , the amber liquid creeping down the stairs. Clarice paused to watch it's descent , and frowned as she watched most of the bottle's contents creep over Hannibal's italian leather shoes.
She looked up to Lecter , who had paused to watch as well , and he looked up to her as well , look unreadable. Clarice shuddered and turned back to the task at hand , jogging up the stairs and onto the second level , across the shabby balcony.
"Which room did you say...Hannibal?"
He paused for a moment , and then she heard "b7" called out to her. Clarice stopped abruptly , backingup a step , and they were in front of their motel room.
"Hopefully it isn't as bad as the rest of this place." She muttered to herself , nudging the keys into the door and was sure than she felt Hannibal Lecter smile at her side.
"Indeed , Clarice."
As she opened the door , feeling over the wall for a light switch , another door down the way opened , and a figure stepped out. Hannibal turned his eyes to it as light flooded their room and Clarice stepped inside , raising his eyebrows. The figure turned towards them , and his curiosity was sparked even more. A middlesized woman , as if appeared , probably young , Hannibal reasoned. She was dressed in a long brown coat and dark colours , her head bent to the ground as she brushed past him. He frowned deeply at her , recognizing her as a typical rude or off balance...But he didn't quite think so.
Hannibal sighed to himself , looking back to the bedroom and stepped inside , toting Clarice's luggage.
"Oh , Hannibal , you should see this bathtub...terrible!" her voice called from the bathroom.
A.N.- Bwahahaha...And the plot thickens!!! Confused? Don't really get it at all? Think about it , and it'll be cleared up next chapter...
