Disclaimer: The characters belong to Thomas Harris. Last time I checked, I wasn't him. Original material is mine, though J

A/N: This is set about three years after the movie, but I'm not sticking specifically to either movie or book canon. Just so you know . . .

Kismet

By Melanie-Anne

one

Bolts of lightning split the sky, accompanied by a cacophony of thunder. Seconds later, rain and hail began pelting from the sky. Clarice Starling lifted her foot from the accelerator, and pressed down gently on the brake. The car slowed immediately. She turned to her companion and smiled ruefully.

"You wanna call Dwayne to tell him you're gonna be a little late?"

Ardelia Mapp shook her head. "Not just yet."

She had met Dwayne Ritter a year ago when she'd consulted him about a case. It wasn't love at first sight – it wasn't even like at first sight – but when he'd run into her at Starbucks and seen her sitting in a corner, hiding her tears behind a newspaper, he couldn't ignore her. She'd been working on busting a child prostitution ring and on that particular morning she had come from telling a family that their six-year-old little boy had been found. She had seen the kid's body . . . He wouldn't be playing with his new puppy ever again. Dwayne was a pastor at a small Baptist church and it was in him that Ardelia confided. Six months later the case had been successfully closed. Ardelia had told the little boy's family in person.

Dwayne had proposed a month ago and Ardelia would be meeting his parents for the first time at dinner that night. Clarice was genuinely happy for her friend. Her own loneliness didn't bother her.

"You sure? He's gonna worry."

"Relax. He knows I'm with you. I called this morning and said you'd drop me. Stupid damn car, I don't know why it would pick today of all days to die on me . . ."

"Suit yourself." Clarice turned up the volume and continued humming along to the tune on the radio.

It was purely by chance that the two women happened to be on that particular stretch of road at that particular moment in time. No one could have predicted that the truck traveling in the opposite direction would jackknife on the wet road and come careening towards them. Clarice slammed her foot down on the break and the car skidded, still traveling forwards. Ardelia braced her hands against the dashboard and looked at Clarice, her face a mask of terror. The body of the truck barreled closer and closer. The steering wheel was locked; Clarice couldn't swerve out of the way. She shut her eyes in the moment of impact . . .

. . . And then she knew no more.

* * *

Everything hurt. Clarice tried to open her eyes, but it was too much of an effort. She whimpered softly and the nurse gently jabbed a syringe into her shoulder. Moments later, the pain subsided and Clarice drifted back to sleep. The drug mercifully kept her from dreaming.

The next time she drifted into consciousness, she could hear a deep voice murmuring in the background. Someone was praying. She opened her eyes and tried to turn her head. The movement sent a jolt of pain straight down her spine. She moaned, and the speaking stopped.

"Clarice? You awake?"

She tried to say, "Dwayne?" but couldn't manage more than a garbled moan.

"Clare, relax. There's a tube in your throat; don't try to speak."

She blinked slowly as her brain struggled to process what had happened. Where's Ardelia?

"I'm just going to fetch a nurse."

While he was gone, Clarice took stock of what hurt. Her neck and back, her legs, her right hand . . . but if she could feel the pain, the damage couldn't be too bad, right? She would have reason to be concerned if there was no feeling at all.

But where's Ardelia? Why was Dwayne with me and not her?

You're a smart girl, Clarice. Figure it out. It was Hannibal Lecter's voice. She shut her eyes, willing him away.

"Miss Starling, I'm glad you're awake. How are you feeling?"

The nurse was plump and blonde and far too cheerful for Clarice's liking. She narrowed her eyes. How do you think I feel?

"I'm going to take this tube out. It won't hurt a bit. Exhale on my count. One. Two. Three."

She had obviously never been intubated before. Clarice's throat felt raw. She glared at the nurse, who left oblivious to any ill feeling in the room.

"Do you know what happened to you?"

"Accident," Clarice rasped. Great, her voice was hoarse too. She hated being injured.

"Yeah." Dwayne sighed and sank back into the hospital chair.

"'Delia?"

He closed his eyes and held his head in his hands. Clarice knew what had happened without him having to say a word. Clarice wept. Silent tears rolled down her face. She couldn't breathe. Another person she loved was gone from her life. Her best friend . . . the person who'd rejoiced with her when she'd rescued Catherine Martin, the person she'd ranted to when Krendler had propositioned her, the one person who'd been truly supportive during the whole Drumgo fiasco and its aftermath . . . her one true friend.

Ardelia had screamed when the truck had hit them. It was a sound Clarice had heard before, and a sound she knew would always stay with her: the sound of a screaming lamb.

"It was a terrible accident," Dwayne said. "I guess it was her time. God called her home."

"Don't talk to me about God!" Clarice didn't care about the strain on her already tender throat. She was too far-gone in her grief to care about anything. "Ardelia was the most decent person I knew. It shouldn't have happened. I don't have time for a God who would just snatch her away without giving a damn about those left behind. How can you still believe-?"

"Clarice-"

"She was so excited to be getting married. In all the time I knew her, she'd never been so happy. And you're one of His servants . . . why would He do this to you?"

"I don't know! I don't know why this happened. I wish it hadn't. I wish she was still here . . . But she's not, Clarice. And I have to make sense of that in any way I can." Dwayne wiped his eyes but it was too late; Clarice had seen his tears. She didn't say anything as he left the room.

to be continued