A/N- Not dead, just busy. Really. Thanks to Kurt for helping me get the ball rolling again (I've been re-reading 'Daddy's Girl' and the Erin series. I still can;t believe that you killed off Paul!). Here we go, dear readers.

Chapter Five

Lindsey stood in the downpour of the shower for the second time that day. Normally she didn't give it much thought, but it always seemed she was trying to wash something away. She never seemed to be clean, and she didn't really ponder whether it was a mental or spiritual thing. At the moment, it was a physical clean she was seeking, seeing as she'd just taken the dog for a run and had broken more of a sweat than she had expected. Sammie had seemed to notice her unease, and had begun keening at her once they were back inside the house, attaching himself to her leg and following her until she had shut him out of the bathroom. Sammie now lay in the hall like a sentinel, head resting on long forelegs stretched out in front of him, watching, waiting. Lindsey shut off the water and shook her head, reaching around the shower curtain to grab a towel. As she stood before the fogged mirror a few moments later, she stared, looking for any definition in the hidden image before her. There was no avoiding it now, she told herself, leaving the towel in a heap and heading for the bedroom.

As she searched through her wardrobe she wondered how she had survived just over a year ago. She had managed to secure a decent job within months after leaving the FBI, working as a consultant for a security firm. Working fifty hour weeks, traveling to make presentations, fighting deadlines- all had been her life, and she never considered much that she wasn't enjoying herself. Then, she began to get involved with Gregory. Somewhere between the deadlines, missed lunches, late nights and jet lag, something began to blossom. Gregory was the first to point out what even Lindsey's closest friends had not- she was simply not happy. Gregory had extended an offer, to give her what she wanted most- her own happiness. Within months of the offer, given over dinner one lat winter night, Lindsey had left her consulting position, sold her two bedroom condominium, and moved from Denver to Boulder. So far, Gregory had held true to his end of the bargain- she had found happiness; but she often found herself wondering, as she did now, what her end of the bargain was supposed to be.

- - -

The Mustang barely made headway as Clarice fluttered her foot on the gas for the umpteenth time, just adding enough power to keep the muscle car from stalling on her. For what also seemed the umpteenth time, she cruised down one of the streets bordering the Pearl Street pedestrian mall. Finally, someone pulled out ahead of her from a parking space, sparing her another lap. Clarice dgunned the engine, maneuvering her car into the spot before anyone else could consider taking it. Watching traffic now, looking for a break, she slid from the Mustang, grabbing her purse and briefly wondering if she should take the gun she had in the glove compartment. No, she wasn't here to apprehend Lindsey, only to talk to her her. Clarice had nothing more to base her suspicions on other than her instinct. The early afternoon air had definitely taken on more of a chill than it had had yesterday. Shrugging the windbreaker a little closer around her shoulders Starling set off towards the mall. Now it was a game of cat and mouse to find Lindsey, but Clarice was unsure of which role she was stepping into.

- - -

Former Special Agent Singleton watched through the pane of glass at Chico's as Clarice passed by. She looked like a woman with a mission, and a little lost. Lindsey had deliberately failed to give her former partner a specific spot within the mall to meet, trying to give herself some slight edge on Clarice. Lindsey turned her attention back on the sales clerk who was handing her back her credit card and a receipt for her purchases. As she gathered her bag and headed for the door Lin sighed, trying to brace herself. It seemed as she stepped into the cooler afternoon that her troubled lack of sleep was catching up to her. Exhaustion sagged her shoulders, and she recalled the thoughts that had kept her from truly sleeping last night. Inconceivable, she told herself, and pushed the darkness from her thoughts. She just had to prove Clarice wrong.
.-.-.-.

Clarice was approaching her second lap around the mall, features tightening with each step. She sighed and turned her gaze heavenward, silently asking for some sort of intervention. It was only for a step, and her gaze was brought back down as she was jostled by a passing businessman in a wool overcoat. He muttered an apology that she barely caught, and her eyes followed him for a moment, glaring at his retreating back. Some people.

She was reaching in her purse for her cellphone when a familiar voice came from behind her. Clarice halted, looking for the voice. Coming form her right was Lindsey, all smiles and shopping bags. Jealousy was sour in Clarice's mouth. She had to work for a living, and Lindsey obviously did not any longer. Pushing the annoyance aside, Clarice plastered a smile on her face, heading over to meet the younger woman. They embraced awkwardly, due to Lindsey's bags. Lindsey led them off in the opposite direction Clarice had been heading, saying she needed to drop her bags at the car and then they'd get lunch at the Cheesecake Factory. Clarice followed docilely, kmaking light conversation about her flight in, her accommodation's, and the weather. AS the crowd moved around them, their voices were swallowed by ambient noise. A business man in a wool overcoat smiled to himself, watching the pair drift away from him.
.-.-.-.

The pair walked back from Lindsey's car to the Cheesecake Factory for a lat lunch. As both women shared updates on what was going on with their lives, Clarice decided that today was not the right time to confront Lindsey. Her decision was confirmed when Lindsey spoke up at the end of the meal, while looking over the check.

'Gregory would like me to invite you for dinner tonight.' Lindsey looked down long enough to scrawl her signature on the indicated line, long enough for Clarice to blink and clear the unease from her face.

'I'd love to, it would be good to meet Gregory, since he seems to have made such an impact on your life.' Clarice smiled sweetly, Lindsey flashed a toothy smile at her as she slid the signed slip back into the check cover.

'He has, hasn't he? We'll see you around six, then. Here...' she pulled a hardbound notepad form her bag and scribbled on it, then tore the page from the pad and handed it to Clarice. 'Directions. Just park on the street in front of the house.' Lindsey smiled and hoisted her purse strap onto her shoulder, beginning to slide from her seat. 'It was great to see you again, Clarice. I've got to pick some things up and swing by Gregory's office, but I'll see you tonight, okay?' and with that, she was off, ponytail bouncing as she made her way towards the restaurant's entrance. Starling lingered a few moments longer, then slipped from the table as well, the note stuffed into a pocket. There was no sign of Singleton when she exited, but a man in overcoat and fedora tipped his hat to her as he passed by. Clarice didn't look forward to tonight's meeting with much eagerness. She briefly wondered if bringing her gun would be appropriate. No, a bottle of wine would be better, she decided, setting off to her car.
.-.-.-.

Gregory was setting a pan on the stove when Lindsey appeared int eh entry to the kitchen, grocery bags in hand. He smiled as she pulled fresh bunches of herbs from the bag, setting them in a colander to wash. He stepped to her, and kissed her lightly on the cheek, nostrils flared. Remnants of the hug she'd shared with Clarice on Pearl Street. Lindsey had looked a bit uneasy there, playing hide and seek with the FBI agent. Obviously, Clarice's sudden arrival on holiday had her a bit on edge. The shopping bags he'd found in the bedroom was evidence enough of that, as shopping was her preferred method of therapy when she was off balance. Save it for later, he counseled himself, busying himself with the wrapped package on the counter.

Lindsey was washing the fresh rosemary and thyme under the faucet, looking up to him as she heard paper unwrapping. 'What are you making?' she shook the water off the herbs and set the aside, reaching for the faucet to shut it off. Gregory smiled pleasantly, 'Lamb chops.' Lindsey grimaced, and Gregory looked concerned. 'You don't like lamb, Lindsey?'

'No, its not... I like lamb just fine, Gregory, I just think Clarice may have a bit of an issue with it.' There was a patronizing sigh, and Lindsey blushed.

'Its too late now to go back and get something fresh, I suppose we could just do with what's in the freezer.' He began to rewrap the chops, when he felt Lindsey's hand on his wrist, stopping him.

'Don't. Lamb chops will be fine.
.-.-.-.

Clarice stared up at the house, which was well lit on the drive and the porch. The lawn was trim, and hemmed with borders of neatly unruly flowers. She clutched her bottle of wine, recommended to her by the friendly woman who had run the shop she'd stopped into. With a deep breath she approached. On the porch she stared at the door, looking from the gleaming brass knocker to the doorbell. Which one? Doorbell, since she never felt comfortable using knockers. The tone was muted, and she heard a dog's bark in response to it. They have a dog? The evening was already beginning to surprise her. Lindsey appeared a few moments later, dressed, but not overly so, for dinner. Clarice felt out of place, wearing the nicest pair of slacks and a blouse she had brought with her. Lindsey was all smiles as she ushered Clarice in, holding a large black greyhound back. The dog made a lunge at Clarice as soon as she was over the threshold and the door was closed.

'Sammie, down!' Lin commanded, steel in her voice. The dog immediately halted and sank to the floor, looking up at his mistress guiltily. 'Let me take your coat, Clarice.' She hung it in the nearby closet, then turned back to Clarice, smiling. Clarice thought she looked like a damned Stepford Wife, and she figured that description wasn't far off the mark.

"I brought this.' Clarice offered the bottle of wine, attempting to smile. Her hostess looked over the label and nodded. 'Thank you, Clarice.'

Sammie was on his feet at the sound of footsteps in the hall behind Lindsey. Clarice was wide eyed, looking past her old friend at the figure approaching. No taller than Lindsey and imperiously thin, his black hair gleamed like pelt in the lamplight. He smiled pleasantly as he approached, but Clarice could see the wicked humor in his eyes.

He's a cemetery mink.

In had turned, and smiled sweetly at him. 'Gregory, may I introduce Clarice Starling.'

Clarice extended her hand, slowly, and felt a shiver when Gregory took it. 'A pleasure, Special Agent Starling.' Clarice fought the impulse to jerk away, waiting for him to release her hand. 'If you ladies would follow me, I have cocktails waiting in the living room.' He winked at Clarice as Lindsey turned and he slid an arm around her waist. Starling prided herself on self-control, and tonight she was going to have to put all of it to use. She followed the couple, feeling off-balance and out of place.
.-.-.-.

Three hours later, Clarice was back int eh cold sanctuary of her Mustang, looking at the house in the rear view mirrors as she pulled away. He'd served lamb chops for dinner, and Clarice would've sworn he was smirking as he served them onto her plate. What did she expect, however? For him to serve her the sweetbreads of some symphony member he'd taken a dislike to? He'd directed most of the dinner conversation, inquiring as to what her job was like, encouraging Lindsey to tell of her charitable forays. It was not unlike dinner with any other well-off couple. Starling had to grudgingly admit that they looked completely happy, and that Lindsey had never looked happier or more relaxed.

It didn't matter, though. She was harboring, however unknowingly, a known and dangerous fugitive. What would happen to her when he lost interest in her and his whimsy turned? Clarice wouldn't let that happen. As long as Hannibal Lecter were free, Clarice would not be able to forget the lambs. And she wouldn't sacrifice Lindsey to the monster.
.-.-.-.