The cab ride back to Clarice's hotel was short and silent.  Lecter only spoke to tell the driver where to go, and then when they arrived to wait for him, while he got out.  Lecter got out and rounded the car quickly, not quickly enough to open the door for her, but enough to offer her his hand to help her step onto the sidewalk.  When she stepped up, they stood facing each other, but she would not look him in the eye.  He brought his other hand up to touch her cheek with his thumb and then guide her gaze from his shoes to his eyes.

            "I'm sorry this visit could not be longer, Clarice, but I will be leaving Florence immediately," he paused to kiss her knuckles softly.  "You can decide for yourself whether you want to inform the FBI of this."  Clarice said nothing in response to this and Lecter pressed on.  "Your hotel is through that alley," he nodded behind her.  "Enter through the door on the side and take the stairs, they probably won't notice you there."  He took a long look at her.  "We'll meet again soon, Clarice.  Maybe then you'll know what your answer is."  With that, he brushed his lips delicately against her cheek in a chaste kiss, and swiftly climbed back into the cab.

            Clarice stared after the car until it disappeared from her view, then she realized her peril, and flew down the alley, threw back the door, and bolted up the stairs to the fourth floor.  Down the hall she went quickly, looking to make sure no one saw her running.  Thank God for small favors, she thought as she fished the keycard out of her pocket, pushed through the door, and then slammed it behind her, leaning heavily on it.  She stood with alarm filling her as she took in her room.  All the lights were on.  Her drawers were pulled out and looked through and the mauve letters she had been reading on the floor now sat tossed on the bed.  Ah shit! She thought.  Will saw the letters.

            Of course he saw the letters, how else do you think he figured out you were at the Belvedere?  Honestly, woman, some days you don't think at all.

            She had to get rid of the letters.  She would deny their existence; say Will must have been dreaming it all, something.  She looked around frantically.  Then she thought of it.  I'll put them in the sink.  That way the ink will wash out.  And then… I'll flush them.  Clarice felt relaxed now that she knew what she would do, and she set about setting her plan into action.

            It took all of five minutes, really, and then there was nothing to do, but wait.  Wait until Will came and saw that she had managed to get back into bed somehow.  It would three long hours.  Sleep wouldn't come.  She ran over what Dr. Lecter had said over and over in her mind, replaying each syllable, each touch.  Tell me you're not a lovesick puppy, Starling, just go ahead and try it.

            I am not.  Those things might help me catch him.  She settled back to her thoughts, smiling smugly.

            Yeah, uh-huh, was the only reply.

            It was three thirty when Will came charging into the room to startle a finally asleep Clarice.  She looked up at him, genuinely astonished.

            "Will?" she asked, holding a hand over her eyes, to guard against the sudden light.  "What's going on?  What time is it?"

            Will just looked at her in amazement.  "Do you have any idea how dangerous your little stunt was?"

            "Stunt? What?  It's 3:30, Will.  Can't this wait until a civilized hour?"

            "No, it can't.  How did you get out, Clarice?"  Two Italian policemen and the hotel manager stood behind him.

            "I took the door like everyone else.  Look, if you're so clinging that you can't let me go for a simple jog alone, then I suggest it's time to pursue this investigation in our own separate ways."

            "Don't play stupid with me, Clarice.  I saw the letters.  I found your shoes.  I know you went to meet him at the Belvedere."

            "What is wrong with you, Will?  I don't ask you into my room and you assume I run off with a madman?  I hate to tell you this, Will, but there are plenty of available men in Florence who are not psychotic… or pathetic."  She stared pointedly at him.

            The officers behind Graham were looking apprehensive.  This was seeming more and more like a domestic dispute.  Will gritted his teeth just as his phone rang.  Remind me never to agree to a cell phone again.

            "Graham!" he practically screamed into the phone.  "Yeah… we found her, Jack… she was at the hotel… says she went out for a jog… what about… hold on." He turned to Clarice.  "Where are the letters Clarice?  You can't say I dreamed those up."

            "I guess I have to since I don't have any letters!"

            "Alright, that's it," Will said, grabbing Clarice none too gently by the arm.  "Out.  You officers, search the room.  You're looking for some pieces of mauve paper."  He all but threw Clarice into the wall across the hall, and she knew she'd have a bruise where he'd grabbed her arm.

            "Will, when I find out what this is all about, you're going to look pretty damn stupid," she said, but Will was back on the phone again.

            "Yeah, Jack, I'm here… she says there were no letters… what… okay…"  Without a word, Will threw the phone at Clarice.

            "Starling," she reported.

            "Clarice, what the hell is going on?!  First, Will leaves me hanging on a pay phone, then he says he sees you leave in a evening gown!  Then, he finds letters from Lecter in your hotel room, and has the police down at the Belvedere looking for you, only to find you back in the room sleeping, saying you went out for a jog, and that there's no letters!  Now, explain to me what the hell I'm supposed to believe here?"

            "Honestly, Jack.  I don't really care what you believe at this moment.  It's four o'clock in the morning here and I've just been thrown out of bed by some crazy bastard who thinks I ran off to meet a psychotic.  Maybe I'll be able to sort some of this out in the morning, but right now, I'm going to sleep."

            "You're right we're going to sort this out.  You're getting on the next plane back to the states.  Do you hear me?" he shouted.

            But Clarice had just left the phone in the hallway, still on and wandered into Will's room to pull back the covers, and slip into some much needed sleep.