I do not own any of the Dr. Hannibal Lecter series or movie collection.

Please do not expect more.

Chapter One

Zealous young agents pushed on strenuously behind her in the course. Warm asphalt crunched against her white shoes as she gained even more speed in the cooling evening air. Her eyes settled on the bouncing image of the academy and the tanned sand, flowing like a river on the outside of the sidewalks leading toward the building. She is aware she no longer needs to be here; she is not a trainee and hasn't been for some long while. She is no longer the childlike green agent, fresh out of the kitty-school. She tries to remember the feeling of pure, unadulterated, and naïve innocence from before her first case. She reflects on the lack of response from her own mind and does not enjoy the empty feeling.

She violently pushed the thoughts away as she focused on the movement around her. The slight wind brought the carnal stench of the city with a rustle of oak leaves. She could hear the heavy breaths of the agents pushing themselves for some great dream just beyond the surface.

You are so ambitious, aren't you?

Quick flashbacks to her blurring memories from childhood and the sweet smell of tangy oranges, with an underline of wet iron clinging in the air- She reached up and pulled on the headphones around her neck to her ears, before clicking the switch at her waist. The plastic was cold against her fingers as she pressed. A metallic male voice fluidly strummed into the headset and encompassed her mind quickly.

'-ou say you don't know why Crawford helps you- do you know why I did?'

'No. Tell me.' Concentration etched itself into her fine features as she slowed to a fast paced jog.

'Do you think it's because I like to look at you and think of eating you up- about how good you would taste, Clarice?'

'Is that it?'

'No. I want somethi-'

Tap. Tap.

Starling whipped her body around sharply as she pulled the headphone down about her neck. She faced a stout young man with an air of concentrated impatience.

"What do you need Johnson?" The young man shuffled clumsily on his feet.

"You have an urgent call in your office, ma'am." Clarice's heart sunk as the words were registered in the forefront of her mind. She quietly released a cleansing breath as the wind fluttered with a sense of dread.

If I do right, I'll survive. The head phones volume was to the point she could hear them even now as they were resting coolly on her collarbone. Pushing herself away from the concerning anger at herself, she focused on thanking the embarrassed boy.

He nodded absentmindedly and stepped back to give Starling ample room to move past him on the narrow track. Starling felt the wanton pull for the velvet voice again before she replaced the instruments. She entered her quiet office silently as she closed the door against the bustling hallway. She leaned against her door as she thought on what the possibility of a large fire wiping out Quantico was. She chuckled at the own thoughts before she swung down into her chair and picked up the sleek black phone on her desk. "Starling."

"Ms. Starling, there's someone in your house. Are you expecting anyone?"

Starling's hand stopped mid-motion reaching for the cold coffee as she comprehended the situation and its possibilities. "Male or female, Ms. Clarkins?"

A shuffle on the other side of the line. "Male and he looks... dangerous... something about him." A faint scraping sound and a metallic click. "He's wearing a suit. Do you want me to call the police?"

Clarice's heart skipped before settling into a quick tempo. She stood and grabbed her mustang keys. "No. No, Ms. Clarkins. Don't bother, I know who it is. Thank you for calling me."

Starling's cell phone vibrated within her pocket and against her leg as she gave her appreciation to her neighbor. Hanging up the device, she flipped open her other phone as she swiftly exited her office building. "Starling."

"Hello Special Agent Starling." Starling didn't stumble in her stride even as the good doctor's voice slid through the phone. "I hope you do not mind that I am calling on your personal line, but I couldn't very well call your office in that bland prison, now could I?"

"Hello Dr. Lecter." Her steps echoed in the enclosed stairway going up to the first floor from her basement office. She hooked the earphones quickly into her cell phone as she revealed her eagerness to continue speaking with him. "How have you been Doctor?"

"I am doing fine, Special Agent Starling, thank you for asking. I am healthy and happy to be back amongst the living again. Are you getting any happier Special Agent Starling?"

The constant reminder of her station was beginning to grate on her nerves as she passed the pristine white walls around her. "I've been the same as always, Doctor. Old dogs and all that." She grunted, pushing the door to the first floor open.

"Have you really? Oh no," he gave a slight pause before finishing reluctantly. "I shouldn't even think you have changed, Special Agent Starling." She pushed her body out of the entrance doorway. The clean breeze collected her hair swiftly, lavender sweeping into the air. Stepping into the parking lot, she located her mustang and unlocked it.

"May I ask why you are calling Dr. Lecter?" She stared the vehicle as leather and stale smoke wafted.

"Of course, Special Agent Starling." A few beats of silence while she drives before Starling rolls her eyes comically and turns the corner. He was going to be his usual game master then.

"Why Dr. Lecter?"

A deep cleansing breath on the other side of the line and Clarice closes her eyes briefly against the roads green scenery. " I wanted to hear your voice, Special Agent Starling." Another turn and her house is in sight. A black pickup truck innocently parked across the street. "Tell me, are you by any chance, driving?" She pulls into her neighbors driveway before turning off her car. "Clarice?"

"Not anymore Doctor." Stepping out she inhaled the smell of sweet honey suckle and smog. "Doctor Lecter, why didn't you leave Florence after sending me the evidence that would help me find you? Why'd you stay?"

Starling calmly walked over to her neighbors house and gave Ms. Clarkins a friendly wave before approaching her front room window. "Well, Special Agent Starling, I still had tickets to an opera I had a particular desire to see."

She stopped as she saw his figure. He was sitting on her couch, seemingly relaxed and at ease. A bird cawed in the distance. "Where are you Special A-"

"Please, stop that." She saw him sit forward with interest as he answered. She could just barely see his profile. Thankfully the street was quiet, minus that stupid bird.

"Stop what Spe-"

"That, stop that please." She let a small smile appear when he laughed joyfully, his whole body moving on her couch. "Why don't you call me by my name? You used to, before."

He stopped laughing and drummed his fingers on his chin ruefully. "Why don't you call me by mine?" She kept silent for several moments, just listening to his quiet breathing and drinking in his image. He picked up a glass of wine from her coffee table and breathed in its scent. The bird squawked loudly again and she saw his head go up before smelling the air around him deeply. He shook his head and she grinned victoriously. "Ah, as I was asking before; where are you, Special Agent Starling?"

"Turn around."

That look was priceless.

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Rewriting some of this. Though now Hannibal the tv series has me craving Mads instead of Anthony, but hey, I'd let either kill me, ya know?