Clarice held her glass of champagne. She didn’t drink. Only held the glass in line with the V-shaped neckline of her dress. Still and stiff as she nodded along to the conversation which faded into the hum of Christmas songs that emanated around the hall from Crawford’s vinyl player. She was grateful when Ardelia joined them, she could entertain their suited co-worker with anecdotes of a normal life and judgements on holiday pay and time-off while Clarice could not recall his name. It wasn’t that she wanted to be rude and it wasn’t that she liked to be the hermit of the office but.. she gave a small laugh as she felt Ardelia’s elbow jut into her ribs. The champagne threatened to spill and she took a sip before downing it. The dull rush of the alcohol distracted her and she enjoyed the momentary numbness, she closed her eyes hoping that when she opened them she’d be waking up in her room to an early sunrise. In the summer she rose with the dawn but now in the depth of winter she usually awoke in the pitch black, craving the light of the white, winter sun. Her eyes shot open however when she heard that name.
‘Lecter?’ she asked softly, furrowing her eyebrows at the young analyst in the poorly ironed suit.
‘Apologies Ms Starling’ he looked taken aback ‘I was just saying that it’ll be interesting to see if there are any further developments in the Hannibal Lecter case now that you're leading the investigation. I’m sure there will be.’
‘Oh thank you, I appreciate it and I hope so’ She bowed her head at him with a weary smile.
‘You could have told Crawford no to the job you know’ Ardelia joked but from their past conversations Clarice knew she was serious. Ardelia was right to be worried about her, she’d had a good job, she had been happy and content and successful. She’d even been in one or two semi-serious relationships. She always knew her trauma from Gumb and Lecter would never fully fade but until she’d started picking at the scab (thanks to her new job hunting Lecter) she hadn’t realised how much of it time had actually healed. For the first time in five years she felt the sting of those memories like a fresh wound, she couldn’t stop digging in her fingers and infecting it. Tarnishing her past and present all at once. In early November Crawford had received a letter from Lecter, ‘wishing you well’ and proclaiming that he was just ‘dying to visit’. Since then she’d felt his presence everywhere, his voice in the metallic whir of machinery, his figure in the shadows of dark hallways and his cold, electric touch in the night air. She looked at Ardelia to try to tune into the story she was telling to the small crowd that had gathered to listen. Her eyes drifted from the warm and vital expressions of her friend’s face to the window behind her as she noticed flecks of snow falling. It fell thicker and thicker until the white of the flakes equaled the black abyss of the night sky. Maybe she needed to go to bed, or maybe she was already dreaming but she could swear there was a small,wiry figure beyond the window pane, just beyond the flakes of snow.
‘Excuse me’ She pardonded herself from the conversation and headed out of the hall. She walked past the phone where she’d last spoken to Lecter, five years ago. Until recently she’d been resigned to the fact that they would never talk again, perhaps she’d even been thankful of it. Now though her pace quickened at the thought of it. Her heels click, clicked faster and faster until she was outside and she realised what a fool she was. Her dress was already soaked and she could scarcely see for the snow in her hair and eyelashes and the darkness of the night. She stepped back inside and brushed herself down shamefully, two puddles formed as the water from her hair soaked into her dress and sent shivers down her spine. She saw a figure in her peripheral.
She looked up to see Ardelia spot lit in warm light from the open door to the hall. She began marching towards her causing Clarice to stand up straight.
‘Why the hell did you go out there?’ She exclaimed.
‘I just-’ She searched for an excuse.
‘Clarice I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you shouldn’t do this case if it’s going to affect you like this’ Ardelia was close to her now, holding her wrists earnestly in her gentle hands.
‘It’s not affecting me’ Clarice scoffed quietly but images of Jame Gumb’s writhing body and Kimberley’s still one resurfaced painfully.
Ardelia’s expression was twisted and exasperated, of course she knew the truth.
‘I’m serious, I think I just need to sleep’ She wasn’t lying about this part, she’d been trembling from sleep deprivation all night.
‘Ok let’s go’ Ardelia held her arm and guided her like she was a sleep-walker. Clarice wanted to protest and tell her friend to enjoy the Christmas party but she knew there was no use and she also knew how much Ardelia hated entertaining boring men.
here’s a little prelude to the one shot I’m writing for @whoeveniswren (who has some AMAZING clannibal ideas)
Sorry if the time line confuses anyone, I wrote it as an alternative time line with Jodie Foster’s Clarice set five years after SOTL
sorry I’ve been procrastinating it for so long, I’m working on the main part right now so if you like this hang in there ;)
