Title: Back in Baltimore – Chapter 8
Author: Pseudo-Morals (Axl of LL and the Studiolo)
Genre: Silence of the Lambs/Hannibal
Category: Drama
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: stardustsavant@hotmail.com
Archive?: Sure.
Summary: Clarice Starling is sent to Baltimore, to work with the Homicide detectives in finding Dr. Lecter.
Author's Notes: Ten chapters planned, only eight up as of 3/10/04.
BACK IN BALTIMORE – CHAPTER EIGHT
It is only when Clarice Starling awakens to find sunlight streaming in golden shafts through the dusty shutters, that she realizes she has spent the night at Sergeant Howard's apartment.
It is a nice place, albeit small, with tasteful décor and an apparent knowledge of how to make the most of little space. The apartment seems to lack a guest room, so Starling had not been moved from the sofa, where she had curled up almost immediately upon her arrival.
There had been only minimal conversation between the two women before bed. Kay had not asked her friend who it was, that had disappointed her so. Starling, reflecting on it now, realizes that she is grateful the redhead had refrained, for reasons other than the obvious. Thinking back, she is unsure as to whether or not she would have been able to lie.
Neither of them eat breakfast, but Kay has a cup of fresh coffee awaiting Starling's arrival at the kitchen table. They sit together in companionable silence, sipping occasionally from their mugs. Starling has never examined her fingernails so closely before.
The shrill, high-pitched tone of a cell phone is heard, and both women fumble to check their hip pockets, but Starling abandons the search when the sergeant flips hers open.
"Howard."
Clarice does not intend to listen. Eavesdropping is a nasty habit, little as it may be, and even though she has been forced to use the tactic over her years in the service of the Bureau, she has never enjoyed it. However, the one-sided conversation she is faced with, sounds remarkably as though it has to do with her, and so she quickly overlooks her qualms, and tunes in.
"Yeah, she's here," Kay murmurs, seeming to deliberately avoid Starling's gaze. "No. Around ten or so, Mike, what's the big deal, huh?" The redhead's eyes widen slightly. "The apartment? Are you sure? Jesus, that's out of line… Not part of your job description, either, hon. Listen, I'll take it now, but don't pull that again, Mike. That'd get you pulled up in front of Gee faster than you can say Hannibal Lecter."
Starling's face is pale and drawn when Kay ends the call and looks over to her again. She shakes her head slightly. "What's the word, Sarge?"
"Kay," the redhead corrects gently. She is proud of her title, certainly, but doesn't see fit to enforce it with people she considers to be her friends. Howard clears her throat, heaves a sigh that seems unbelievably large for such a small woman, and continues. "That was Mike. Kellerman," she adds, for Starling's benefit. "He claims to have seen you, both entering and leaving, the searched apartment of one Dr. Hannibal Lecter. He took photographs, apparently."
"Really, now?" Clarice forces her voice to remain even, unworried, though her lips feel dully numb, as though she's just had a shot of Novocain.
"Is there any truth to that, Clarice?"
"Well," she manages, "I was there. I left my…my scarf, and I went back to get it, Kay. I figured it was safe enough, we'd already searched the place the day before."
"I see." Howard nods slightly. "That sounds reasonable. You didn't see anyone, did you? Anything unusual, as though someone had been there between the raid and your arrival?"
"No." Starling lies, and is almost surprised with just how easily she can do it.
"Good. Don't take it personally, Kellerman's always been quick to point the finger at anyone and everyone save for himself."
Clarice chuckles quietly, the response she believes is expected, and is relieved to see Kay doing the same. Tipping her head back, the redhead drains the rest of the coffee as if emptying a shotglass, the empty mug making a sharp, rapping noise when it hits the table again. Starling does not finish hers, and they stand together.
-x-
When the pair push their way through the glass doors and into the squad room, Starling is surprised to see an unsettling number of detectives huddled around a whiteboard, where a diagram much like a football play, is inked in red marker.
"What the hell's going on here?" This from the sergeant, who is apparently as shocked as her friend at the sight.
Kellerman smirks smugly over to them from his perch on a desk, and Starling is filled with the sudden urge to punch him in the teeth. She takes only half a second to wonder from where the violent thought had come.
"A meeting was called," he reports, "to investigate the photographs I took of the apartment building."
"And me, too, right?" Starling's temper flares and her hands ball into fists. She shoves them in the pocket of her coat, nearly putting a hole through her bottom lip in a fit of rage. "I was in some of those photographs, apparently, and don't you think it's right, it's just, to wait for me to show up before running your damn mouth?"
She cringes under Kay's hand as it clasps her shoulder, in an effort to calm her down. The touch is slightly comforting, but still she refuses to relax. In fact, she tenses further when the blond ignores her outburst and turns casually back to the circle.
"Here! Mike, I got it here…"
The two women turn abruptly to see Munch, striding briskly toward the mass of detectives, weaving around desks with expert knowledge of the room's layout. He clasps a computer printout between his thumb and forefinger, and looks triumphant.
"Good," nods Kellerman. Kay raises a brow and steps forward. Clarice is, as always, amazed by how much power the redhead seems to wield: even Tim Bayliss stops his side-conversation and turns to focus on Sergeant Howard.
"Hey, hey… listen here, huh? Gee's off seeing about the transfer of a new rookie to the unit, so I've got the reins here…and yet, no one saw fit to inform me about the advancement in the Lecter search, did they? That's a bit funny, isn't it, Mike?"
The young blond has the decency to look slightly ashamed.
"I've got the forwarding address of the alleged 'Dr. Fell'," reports Munch, turning a look of respect upon the petite sergeant. "It's entirely on the other side of the city from the apartment we already searched; I figure it's worth a shot."
"Agreed." Kay nods faintly, and turns to Clarice for confirmation.
Starling forces herself to give a stammered go-ahead. It is as though every vein in her body has been poisoned with ice; her heart slowly begins a sickening descent to the pit of her stomach. She clasps a hand over her abdomen discreetly, calling no attention to herself, although she thinks she very well may vomit again.
She does not. Instead, she clings with the other hand to a filing cabinet until the nausea moves on. All she can think of, is obtaining the address and going down to warn the doctor before they arrive.