What About The Girl?
By Risty Maskell
Disclaimer: If you recognise it, I don't own it. If you don't recognise it, it's mine.
Summary: This little bunny is quite interesting and won't leave me alone. It's kinda hard to ignore a Hannibal the Cannibal bunny who is threatening to eat you if you don't write it's story...
Italics are used to show what is being said in a different language, such as French or Italian
1994
A month after Dr Lecter and Will Graham met down in the dungeon, the man known as "The Red Dragon" or as "The Tooth Fairy" was killed. Hannibal had very calmly communicated with The Tooth Fairy, also known as Francis Dolarhyde, through the personals column of the National Tattler. Through that entry, the good doctor had given Will's home address in Marathon, Florida. He had told Dolarhyde to 'Save himself, kill them all." For this, Dr Chilton had confiscated his books, drawings, toilet seat and matress for over a month. They had been given back to him by the time Juliette had come to visit on her twelfth birthday.
The day of Juliette's birthday dawned bright and cold. It was the 26th of November and just cold enough to wear a light jacket. Thomas drove her to see her father at nine am. She walked down the corridor with Thomas and Dr Chilton, though she had already suggested that the Administrator should stay in his office as they knew each other reasonably well. Thomas had laughed.
"She has a point, Dr Chilton." He said. Dr Chilton glared but went back upto his office. As usual routine followed, Juliette gave Barney her pen and the paper clip that held some papers togather. Barney pressed the button and the door opened. She walked quietly down the hall, seeing the chair put out for her.
"Mornin' Missy Juli." Sylvester Dryslum said, giving her a gappy grin. three of his teeth had been knocked out.
"Morning, Sly." She said, smiling at the prisoner. She walked on. Vincent Miggs moaned and groaned as she passed. He didn't say anything rude or derogatory, like he said to Chilton every time the Administrator came down to the Dungeon. Juliette sat on the chair and looked through the papers. Hannibal, who had been drawing, watched her for a minute before speaking.
"Tell me, Juliette, what are those papers you have today?" His violet eyes flashed and his trademark smile told Juliette that he was very curious.
"Good morning Juliette, happy birthday." She teased, raising her eyebrows at her father. He laughed.
"Good morning, Juliette. Have you had a happy birthday, so far?"
"Good, except Shea was being an arrogant boy." She said. "As usual." She grinned. "I beat him at a game of cards yesterday and he still hasn't lived it down."
"Ahh, good sports are hard to come by these days." He said, eyes twinkling with hidden amusement. "Yes, here is your present. I hope you like it." He winked, putting the rolled up drawing into the draw and pushing it through. Juliette got up and took it, looking at it.
"Oh Dad, it's beautiful." She said. The drawing was of Hannibal, Angela and Juliette drawn at twelve years of age, standing in front of 17 Chandler Square, looking very happy. "Wow, mum looks so lifelike. Maybe you should become a professional artist." She grinned. Hannibal smiled.
"You still haven't told me what hose papers are." He said, reminding her of the three sheets of paper she had put beside the chair. She looked up.
"Oh, right." She smiled. "Here." She pushed them through to him and he took them to look at. It was a letter and some information. "It's a letter to me from Aunt Katrina in Florence."
"Oh? And what does Aunt Katrina have to say?" Hannibal had become very curious about the letter from his sister in law.
Juliette read the letter out loud.
"Dear Juliette,
This letter is to wish you a very happy twelfth birthday! I hope that it finds you well. Your Uncle David and I are very well, as are your cousins, Alexandra, Renee and Timothy. They all wish you a happy birthday also.
This is also a letter to ask you a very important question. Since your father unable to take care of you," Hannibal chuckled. "We are offering you a home here, in Florence with us. If you would like to live with us, as part of the family, please write back." Juliette looked up at her father. He nodded.
"It sounds like an interesting proposal." He said,after some thought. "But the only thing is, if you go to live with them in Florence, we won't be able to see each other."
Juliette nodded. "I know. But I am allowed to write to you. Dr Chilton has only just let me in on that." She scowled. "And they can't check your mail, it's illegal."
"I know it is." Hannibal said, smiling. "I don't have any trouble with you going to Florence. You're mother loved it there. And your aunt has been living there for fifteen years. Ever since Alexandra was born."
"Tell me about you and Mum, again." Juliette said, folding the letter and putting it back in the envelope to slide through the drawer.
"Aren't you tired of that story, yet?" He chuckled, picking up the letter and reading it.
"No." She grinned.
"Oh, all right. Let's see." Hannibal thought for a minute. "I was living in Paris at the time, about five years before you were born. You mother was an American woman who was travelling France with her sister Katrina. I was sitting, enjoying a lovely dinner in Restaurant De Tour D'Eifle Restaurant of the Eifle Tower a nice glass of Quand Les Rêves Viennent Vrai When Dreams Come True when I saw you mother, Angela, sitting in the booth across from me. She didn't look very happy with her partner and I guessed that her sister had asked her on a double date, more likely forced her." He chuckled. "I got up from my table and tapped her on the shoulder, asking her to dance. She seemed rather grateful to be called away. As we danced, we began to talk. I had fallen in love with her by the end of the night." Juliette smiled, her chin leaning on her hand.
"And did you see her again?" She asked.
"Of course! But alas, she had to come back to America to her life. I had lived in here for quite a while before moving to Paris, I followed her back here and decided to ask her to marry me. She said yes and we stayed in Paris for two years." Hannibal smiled at the memory. "After two years of living in Paris, we decided to move to Florence, Italy. Angela liked it so much, she invited Katrina to visit. Katrina and her husband David came over for a holiday and decided to move there permernantly. Alexandra was born there. Two years later, you mother and I moved back to the United States to be closer to her mother and father. She was pregnant with you at the time. You were born here in America. We lived in New York for a while before moving to Baltimore. Then, while driving to work one day, your mother was involved in a serious car accident. You were about twelve months old. She died later at the hospital." Hannibal's eyes were dry, but his voce was shaking just a little. Juliette sighed sadly.
"I wish I knew her better." She said, looking at her fingernails. "It's not fair."
"Life isn't fair, Juliette. Never has been and never will." He looked toward the wall above his table. "You see that picture?" She nodded. "That is Florence, from the Belvadere."
"And memory is all you have instead of a view." She answered, nodding. "I know. You know I got an A- for my Italian speaking exam?" She said, smiling.
"Congratualtions!" Hannibal said, feeling the slight change in conversation was called for. "An A-? Rather an achievement, isn't it?"
"Well, I'm proud of myself." She said, smiling. "So if I do decide to go to Italy, I'll be able to speak the laguage." Hannibal chuckled.
"Let's see if you can carry on a conversation?" He asked, a gleam of amusement in his eye.
"All right then." Juliette laughed and Hannibal could see she was genuinely amused.
"Ciao, che cosa è il vostro nome? Hello, what is your name?" He asked suddenly. Juliette grinned.
"Juliette, che cosa è il vostro? Juliette, what is yours?" She answered expertedly. She had been taking extra courses in the language of Italian.
"Il mio nome è Hannibal. Quanto vecchi siete? My name is Hannibal. How old are you?" He asked, enjoying this game of talking in a language he hadn't spoken in for so long.
"Ho dodici anni. Che cosa è stasera per il pranzo? I am twelve years old. What is for lunch?" Her eyes twinkled. Hannibal laughed.
"Una festività misura per un re, la mia signora! A meal fit for a king, my lady!" He answered, glancing at his daughter. "Very good! You have learned quite a lot, haven't you?"
"Yes, dad." She said. "I've been taking extra courses in the Italian club after school. It's fun."
"Must be very interesting, Juliette. You know." He said, a thoughtful expression on his face. "If you talk to Thomas, I'm sure he will let you go to stay with Katrina. She is the only direct relative you have besides me."
"I know. I was going to talk to him about it tonight. But I wanted to see what you thought first. I promise I'll write to you every week!"
"Well you'd better!" He laughed. "I will miss our biannual chats!"
Juliette laughed. She spent the rest of the day chatting to him about what had been happening with school and her extra curricular activities, what she had gotten for her birthday and how living with the Bradley family was.
That night, Juliette went down to Thomas' study.
"Tom?" She asked, looking at the man who was poring over some evidence on a new case.
"Hmmm? Yes Juliette, what's wrong?"
"I wanted to ask you something really important."
"Shoot." He said, leaning back. "I need a break from this anyway." His hand waved over the case file.
"Well, this morning I got a letter from Aunt Katrina in Italy." She started. "And she invited me to go live with her, as she is family."
Thomas was silent for a moment. "Do you want to go?"
"Well, yes." Juliette said. "I don't mean to say that you guys haven't been great to me over the last eight years, but I haven't seen my aunt or cousins since I was four. I'd love to live with them and I remember the Judge saying that if any of my family was found, I had to be put into their care until I was eighteen."
"I remember that." Thomas said thoughtfully. "Well, since she is family. I don't see why not. We'll miss you around here, you know that, don't you?"
"Yes. Thank you Tom." She said, giving him a hug.
"Go and tell Fiona. She'll be sad that you want to go, I'm sure. But she'll understand."
Juliette wandered into the kitchen, looking for Fiona. She found her kneeding dough to make choclate chip cookies, like she did every birthday. "Fiona?"
She looked up, smiling. "Hey birthday girl, whats up?"
"I want to talk to you about something."
"Sure, go ahead."
"I got a letter from my Aunt katrina today..." She trailed off. Fiona knew what was coming next.
"And you want to go live with them, is that it?"
"Yes. I love you guys, really I do, but they are my family and the Judge said if my family contacted me I could go and live with them."
"Yeah, I know." Fiona smiled sadly. "If you do go, I'll miss you, you know that, right?"
"Yeah." Juliette smiled sadly. "So is it okay with you if I go and live with my aunt?"
"Its fine by me." Fiona said. "Where does she live?"
"Florence, Italy."
"A long way away."
"Yeah. I'll write to you every week."
"You'd better, Juliette." Fiona smiled and gave her a hug. "We'll all miss you."
"Hannibal? There's a young woman to see you. Says she's FBI, but she looks far to pretty if you ask me." Chilton said, leaning against the side of the cell. "I'll tell her you said no."
Hannibal looked up. "What is her name?"
"Clarice Starling."
Lecter stood up near the glass so he could see the figure coming toward him. "Good morning." He said politely.
"Dr Lecter, my name is Clarice Starling. Can I speak with you?" He voice had a distinct West Virginian twang to it.
He eyed her up and down. "You're one of Jack Crawford's, aren't you?" He asked, using the same unemotional tone he always used except when speaking to his daughter.
"I am, yes sir." She said, putting down her bag.
"May I see your credentials?" He asked. He already knew she was one of Crawford's, but he wanted to test her, just a bit.
"Certainly." She took out her ID and held it up for him to see, not going anywhere near the glass.
"Closer please." She stepped forward. "Closer." He glanced at the ID. "That expires in one week. You're not real FBI, are you?"
"I'm still training at the acadmey." She answered, trying not to be intimidated by him.
"Jack Crawford sent a trainee to me?" He almost laughed out loud.
"Yes, I'm a student, I'm here to learn from you. Maybe you can decide for yourself whether or not I'm qualified enough to do that." She answered, putting the ID away.
"Mmm... that was rather slippery of you Agent Starling. Sit. Please. Now then, what did Miggs say to you? Mulitple Miggs in the next cell. He hissed at you. What did he say?"
There was a pause. "He said 'I can smell your cunt'."
"I see. I myself, cannot." He raised his nose to the air holes in the glass. "You use Evyan skin cream, and you sometimes use L'Air du Temps. But not today."
Starling's eyes were drawn to many of Hannibal's drawings. "Did you do all these drawings, Dr Lecter?"
"Ah. That is the Duomo, seen from the Belvedere. You know Florence?" He asked, the discussion he had had with Juliette coming to mind.
"All that detail, just from memory, sir?" She asked, geuinely amazed.
"Memory, Agent Starling, is all I have instead of a view." He said, looking at the young woman.
"Then perhaps you could use your excellent view on ths questionaire, sir." Starling said, holding up the questionaire and looking straight at him.
"No, no, no, no, no.. You were doing fine, you had been courteous and receptive to courtesy, you had established trust with the embarrassing truth about Miggs, and now this ham-handed segue into your questionnaire. It won't do." He said, enjoying, once again his little game of cat and mouse.
"I'm only asking you to look at this, Doctor. Either you will or you won't." She said, trying not to let embarrassment flush her cheeks.
"Yeah.. Jack Crawford must be very busy indeed if he's recruiting help from the student body. Busy hunting that new one, Buffalo Bill... What a naughty boy he is! Do you know WHY he's called Buffallo Bill? Please tell me.. the newspapers won't say." Hannibal said, eyes scanning the newspaper that sat on the table.
"Well, it started as a bad joke in Kansas City Homicide. They said... this one likes to skin his humps." She said, pausing over the brashness of the words.
"Why do you think he removes their skins, Agent Starling? Thrill me with your acumen." Hannibal said sarcastically, watching her face.
"It excites him. Most serial killers keep some sort of trophies from their victims." Starling said, recalling one of the lines out of one of her many text books back at Quantico.
"I didn't." The answer was simple. He was still watching her face.
"No." She agreed. "You ate yours."
He was silent for a while and Starling wondered if she'd offended him. "You send that through, now." He said suddenly. She got up and pushed the file through in the drawer. He picked it up and leaned against the iron post. "Oh, Agent Starling... You think you can dissect me with this blunt little tool?" He mocked.
"No. I thought that your knowledge -" She never got to finish.
"You're so ambitious, aren't you? You know what you look like to me, with your good bag and your cheap shoes?" He said, looking her up and down again. " You look like a rube. A well-scrubbed, hustling rube with a little taste. Good nutrition's given you some length of bone, but you're not more than one generation from poor white trash, are you, Agent Starling?" His game of cat and mouse was fun. "And that accent you're trying so desperately to shed - pure West Virginia. What was your father, dear? Was he a coal miner? Did he stink of the lamp? You know how quickly the boys found you! All those tedious, sticky fumblings, in the back seats of cars, while you could only dream of getting out. Getting anywhere. Getting all the way - to the F...B...I." He drew the last three letters out with a hiss. Starling was silent for a minute.
"You see a lot, Doctor. But are you strong enough to point that high- powered perception at yourself? What about it? Why don't you look at yourself and write down what you see? Maybe you're afraid to."
His gaze did not waver. So, she was a tough one. He mentally smiled. At least Jack had decided to give him a challenge. "A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti... You fly back to school, little Starling. Fly, fly, fly. Fly, fly, fly."
Knowing she would not get anymore out of him, she got up, picking up her bag and taking the questionaire out of the drawer before walking toward the exit. Hannibal watched her go and heard Miggs moaning and groaning.
"I bit my wrist," Miggs hissed. "So I could die." He threw a handful of semen in Starling's face. "See the blood!" She gasped and began to walk more quickly. The other inmates were complaining about Miggs.
"Miggs, you stupid fuck!" Said Sylvester.
"I'm gonna kill him! I'm gonna kill him!" Said another.
"Agent Starling! Agent Starling!" Hannibal called. She turned and ran back to his cell, nearer to the glass than she'd been before. "I would not have had that happen to you. Discourtesy is unspeakably ugly to me."
"Then do this test for me!" She said loudly, over the rioting of the other prisoners.
"No. But I will make you happy." He said."I'll give you a chance for what you love most."
"What's that, Dr Lecter?"
"Advancement, of course. Look deep into yourself, Clarice Starling. Go seek Miss Mofet, an old patient of mine. M-O-F-E-T... Go now, I don't think Miggs could manage again quite so soon, even though he is crazy. Go, Now!" He watched her run out of the Dungeon and away. His mind switched to Miggs. His rage at the crazy man's rudeness showed on his face. By the next morning, Miggs would be dead.