"Reesey!" Alice Pierpont said gleefully, and clapped her hands. "It's great to see you."

Clarice was not so happy to see Alice. She lolled in a chair, still dizzy from the chloroform. Its stink dwelled in her nostrils and the back of her throat. Her hands were cuffed behind her back. Slowly, her eyes slitted and then opened.

She was in a small room. It didn't seem to be much more than a closet. With her chair and the madwoman in front of her, there was little room. One wall held a large mirror that showed her a duplicate of Alice leaning down in front of her.

Alice was dressed oddly. She wore what looked like a costume to Clarice. Black maryjanes with tap heels that Alice clearly enjoyed tapping. Click, clack, click , clack, clickclackclickclackclickclack. Well, that was what happened when you gave an insane woman tap shoes. Blue socks and black fishnets under them. Spangly short-shorts and an equally spangly bustier. Over that, she wore a sweatshirt that didn't seem to be part of the costume. Her hair was drawn back in a tight ponytail and her hair gleamed like ebony.

Clarice groaned and stared at the madwoman.

"What...the hell? What do you people want with me?" she asked. She was handcuffed in a room with Alice Pierpont. This wasn't good.

"You and Joshie," Alice corrected. "He's in the next dressing room. He is soooo cute. Looking at him just brings it all back, I must say... Speaking of which, do you like your dressing room, Reesey?"

They had Josh too. Shit. So far Alice's obsession with Josh had not awakened. Or maybe Clarice had been out for a little while.

She looked around the room. There wasn't much she could do or use. Maybe she could talk to Alice. In her captor's eyes she saw maniacal glee. Okay. She's up. That sucks; she's more likely to listen when she's down.

"It's all right," she said casually, struggling to buy time. "What...just what is it you want to do to me, Alice?"

"You and Josh are going to be in the next movie!" Alice said, and clapped her hands again. "Isn't that great? It'll be fun. I promise! Even though Teek can be a tough director."

Clarice let out breath slowly and watched Alice carefully. She seemed to be somewhat lucid. Sure, she was manic, but she seemed to be in contact with reality. Although if she thought Clarice was going to cooperate, she had another thing coming.

"Alice," Clarice said calmly, "I don't...I don't want to be in a movie." Particularly one of yours, she added mentally.

Alice sighed. "But it'll be fun, Reesey. Come on, live a little."

Clarice swallowed and tried to remember that her captor did, in some insane way, want Clarice to like her. Maybe that was a way in. "I don't want to be in your movie," she repeated firmly but gently.

"Somehow I knew you would say that," Alice said, and appeared resigned. "Hold on a moment, will you?"

She left the room. Clarice watched her for a moment and then tried to take stock of this new development. Her wrists were handcuffed. She could feel them. Any key in her pocket or waistband? She couldn't reach; they must have tied the handcuffs to the back of the chair or something. Trying to feel around her waist for cell phone or gun or anything was hard. There was nothing there. They'd stripped her of equipment but good. Dammit.

Her time alone was brief. A few minutes later, Alice came back into the room with a young woman in tow. The hostage was also bound. Alice expertly forced the young woman to kneel and grabbed a handful of hair in her left hand, forcing her prisoner's head back. In the other, Alice produced a long Tanto knife, similar to those she had used before.

"Reesey, this is Caitlyn," Alice said formally. "Caitlyn, this is Reesey."

Caitlyn's eyes were wide with panic as the blade approached her face. She stared at Clarice in desperate hope and terror. Alice controlled her hostage easily with one hand. The other piloted the wicked edge of the knife against the woman's cheek, just below the eye. Clarice bit her lip.

"We've done this before, haven't we, Reesey?" Alice asked. "Now look. I know you don't want to be in our movie. And you're really going to hate your costume. I know that for a fact. But the thing is, Teek gets all grumpy and out of sorts when she doesn't get her way, and it's enough to drive everyone else crazy, and I don't want to put up with it. So I'll tell you what. Caitlyn here is my hostage to your good behavior. If you're a good little actress and do what you're told, she will be juuuuust fine. If you don't cooperate, then I'm going to cut Caitlyn's throat right here in front of you. You'll see it, and you'll know that it happened because you wouldn't cooperate."

Clarice hissed out air from between her teeth. This was the maddening thing about Alice: she remembered Clarice's weakness for helpless victims. Would she follow through on it? Clarice didn't want to find out. When Alice got angry, restraint tended to go out the window.

"All right," Clarice said slowly.

Alice smiled brightly. "There," she said chirpily. "See? Was that so bad?" She departed the room for another few minutes and returned without her hostage. All the same, the threat remained. An innocent life hung in the balance.

"I'm going to give you your costume," Alice explained. "Then once you've changed, I'm going to come back and get you. Colin will have our little insurance policy. So cooperate and everything's fine. Otherwise her blood is on your hands."

For a long moment Clarice wondered how it was that Alice could be at one time a likable if disturbed woman and yet could discuss murdering an innocent hostage so calmly. It was a stark reminder of how dangerous she was.

Calmly, Alice dropped a bundle in front of her and then unlocked her handcuffs. Getting those off felt good, and Clarice stretched. Alice eyed her calmly from those not-quite-stable maroon eyes.

"OK, Reesey," Alice said. "Now you get changed, and then I'm going to take you down to the set. Don't put up a fuss." She smiled coolly. "Caitlyn is counting on it."

She left, closing the door behind her so that Clarice could change in privacy. A glance around the room indicated that it had been emptied of anything she could use as a weapon. Dammit. Alice was just outside the door, waiting for her to finish. Clarice could hear her clacking her heels as she waited.

She felt constrained and constricted. Even if she overpowered Alice – which wasn't likely – there was an innocent life at risk. Alice would have no compunction about carrying out her threat to kill the girl. Clarice knew that all too well.

For now, she'd have to play along and hope for a better chance to get away. Might as well have a look at this costume. She prodded at it and was not happy with what she saw: a white dress that buttoned in the front. For her legs a pair of pantyhose were provided, along with a pair of white maryjanes to finish the ensemble.

"Ewwwww," Clarice muttered.

"Ree-sey," Alice yelled from beyond the door, "quit complaining and get changed."

Clarice cast an angry glance at the door. Well, there wasn't any way out of this, so she swallowed her feelings and did it. The dress was a thing of horror: the hem exposed a lot more thigh than she would've ever willingly chosen. Then after a moment, she realized she had been wrong. It wasn't a dress, it was a lab coat. Still, it was too short for her liking. She didn't think so much of her legs had been on public display since she had been a toddler in diapers. How the hell could her entire bottom half itch and be exposed at the same time?

It annoyed the fuck out of her, to put it bluntly, and so she was off guard when Alice re-entered the room and cuffed her hands in front of her again. Calmly, Alice studied her up and down. Surprisingly, she beamed.

"You look great, Reesey!" Alice trilled. Clickclackclickclackclickclack. "Now we have to get you down to the set. For makeup. Then Teek will go over your part with you."

Clarice sighed. Makeup. Another indignity. How much of this was she going to have to put up with? There had to be some way to escape. Something she hadn't thought of. On the other hand, once she got down to the set – whatever that meant – she was going to be supervised by three psychopaths, not just the one now.

All the same, she didn't think Alice would kill her. Dr. Lecter's troubled daughter had the opportunity – several times – and had not. Even when this whole lunacy had begun, when Alice had escaped the asylum, she had asked her colleagues not to kill Clarice.

Would that hold? Would Chatiqua Miller feel the same way? Clarice had her doubts. But she was handcuffed anyway, so the most sensible thing to to was play along. Alice's hand was firm but not cruel on her upper arm. She'd led plenty of prisoners around that way, and she knew very well that you could express your displeasure with a simple squeeze. But Alice didn't.

"Alice," Clarice said calmly but firmly, "have you ever thought about what it is you're doing? You're going to get caught one of these days."

Alice shrugged. "Not before we get to Hollywood," she said cheerfully.

Clarice wet her lips. "You don't know that," she added. "If you gave yourself up, it would go easier on you."

Alice put her free hand on her chin in a burlesque gesture of thinking. "Hmmm. Give myself up and go back to the loony bin or face murder charges. On the other hand, I can keep on making movies with Teek and having fun and being free. Let me ponder that for a little bit, Reesey. I'll get back to you, okay?"

She hauled Clarice into a large, circular room. It was white with garish red trim. The smell of paint hung heavy in the air: they must've painted it for their movie. Whatever it was supposed to be. One half of the room sloped up gently.

The worst part of being handcuffed was being unable to scratch. She felt exposed and uncomfortable and wished with all her might for a pair of pants. The room was full of people.

Perhaps ten hostages, all dressed in black, sat on the upper slope. Each of them was bound. They looked at Clarice with some fear, thinking her to be one of their tormentors. Josh Graham stood next to Colin. Josh was also handcuffed, and he was wearing only a lab coat as well. A pair of brown glasses sat on his face. He gave Clarice a nervous look.

Colin Barksdale wore a leather vest, jeans, and cowboy boots. His hair was slicked back in an exaggerated pompadour. Alice chuckled when she saw him, but eyed Josh with a hunger Clarice didn't care for. For that matter, she didn't care for the way Colin's eyes traced up and down her own nyloned legs.

Chatiqua Miller stood over on the corner – well, the edge – of the room. She, too, was dressed oddly: she wore a green dress, fishnets, and extremely high heels. She also had more eye makeup on than Clarice had ever seen outside of a circus. A frizzy black wig sat on her head. She was fussing with a camera, but abandoned it to come over and eye Clarice calmly.

"Teek is going to be acting in this movie, too, instead of just directing," Alice said perkily. She abandoned her grip on Clarice's arm to lazily drape her arms around Josh's neck. "Oooooh," she said dreamily. "Seeing you again just brings it all back, Joshie."

Chatiqua's light brown eyes seemed feral as they touched Clarice's. A chill ran down her spine. Despite the ridiculous clothing, despite Alice's manic antics, despite it all, there was something extremely creepy about the black woman. She'd been wrong. Alice wasn't the leader of the pack here: Chatiqua was.

"Hello, Clarice," Chatiqua said calmly, just as calmly as when they had last met, when Chatiqua had cold-bloodedly shot her and left her in the parking lot. "I look forward to working with you."

It took rather more will than Clarice thought not to spit in her face. "Let me go," she said briskly.

Chatiqua chuckled and shook her head. "Why would I do that? This is a lot of fun. You'll see. You might even survive this go-round. Alice likes you, you know. Now look. The dancer's scenes have already been filmed...except the finale. I thought it would be better to do it before you were brought out of your dressing room."

Clarice shook her head. "The FBI will know we're missing. I'm not doing anything you want, you psychopath." Her hard blue eyes were unflinching.

Chatiqua shrugged. "Alice, girl, could you interrupt grinding your hip into his groin there? Do me a favor and go bring Caitlyn out here. Agent Starling seems to have forgotten our understanding."

Clarice took a deep breath, sighed, and hung her head.

Chatiqua patted her cheek. "That's a good girl," she quipped. "By now I'm sure you've figured out your role. If not, don't worry, just follow your marks taped on the floor there." Then she clapped her hands.

"Places, everyone! Scene one, take one!"