Work Text:
If there's something that people who are born a couple of days before Christmas know, it's that their birthdays are completely overlooked by the birthday of an other, more important person as it seems.
Clarice Starling however did not mind that nowadays most people would forget that her birthday was 2 days before Christmas. She had reached a point where she would either forget it as well or try to forget it with whiskey on the rocks.
The only person that gave a thought about her was her roommate and friend, Ardelia Mapp. Each and every year she would try to get her outside of their room and celebrate for everything that was worth of, Festive season and Birthdays. And each and every year, Clarice would purposely overwork herself so she could avoid it like the plague.
While Ardelia's gifts were the most expected, clothes and jewellery, a man with peculiar tastes had something more sophisticated in mind.
- - - -
Another day, another way of finding to learn how to fight the struggles
Clarice splashed her face with the cold water of the sink, washing away any remains of her turbulent sleep. She didn't bother to look herself in the mirror, there was not anything out of the ordinary or extraordinary to look out for, she knew how she looked it.
What water could not wash away from her mind was today's date. 23th of December. Most people would not pay attention to it, or simply note it as 2 days before Christmas. Not a date to anticipate for, nor for engraving it in your mind as a day on its own. Those last days before Christmas were not treated as days on their own, rather than annoying bystanders that should move away from the scene so the real star can enter.
Indeed, nothing to write home about has had ever happened
Except for her birthday.
In her eyes this date was a joke, or a way for life to remind her that she didn't always used to exist in this world and having to force smiles and formalities in front of cunts.
The less she paid attention to its significance, or to her years, the less stressed she felt. Of course her friend Ardelia would always try and make her do something to celebrate the date, but as if a deus ex machina from work would call and force her to spend the days at the office. Clarice would always internaly smile for that.
Her work uniform seemed in fine condition, but then again it was not that people paid attention to what she was wearing. She was spending most of her day behind a desk, talk about action.
She quickly checked herself at the mirror, noting if anything was out of place. It wasn't
it's just another day, Clarice
she thought and smiled to herself for that. At least she knew that in 2 days people would find a real reason to celebrate for
i do wonder how he is going to celebrate Christmas
she popped her head on the back a little and strongly blinked her eyes three times, like a secret spell for casting away the bad spirits.
"Where did that come from?" She asked herself out loud, almost with the tone they use at the interrogation rooms, hoping she could get an answer from her stranged out reflection
Even though it had been years since their last chat, Clarice seemed that she could not turn away Dr. Lecter's influence from her mind. Or even his voice at some points, either mocking her life choices or giving her advice on how to handle her social circles. Either way, it felt like something he would find great pleasure in.
he said he had no plans to call me
A sudden sting hit her heart and it was not for good, she felt in her bones. The few days spent together were not unimportant for her, they meant the world to her mind. He was the reason she opened her eyes to the place and reality she was living in, what genuinely was going on behind the curtains. He taught her how to think outside of the box and yet, he said he no plans to seeking out contact with her
Why should it bother me that much? The biggest problem is that he's free out there unsupervised!
She nodded with herself, as if she was at a meeting with her other colleagues.
Free, huh? If only I could say the same... does he even know it is my birthday today?
"Clarice, you need to pull yourself together" she half groaned it and rubbed her face with her hands, she indeed couldn't stop that train of thoughts once it started
Her FBI uniform was fine by her standards, clean and neat, nothing so she would stand out of the crowd. She checked her herself in the mirror, tidying up her appearance or anything that was sticking out.
focus on the work and it will pass, just like any other day
she smiled and hummed, no matter how hard she tried to pretend it didn't matter to her, her birthday was a day for her to reminisce the past.
That's what she hated the most about it, the essence of places and people that she will never meet back again
The smell of oranges, her father's hugs, the gifts under the Christmas tree
That lost essence of security
Why do i always do the complete opposite of what i am supposed to do?
She grabbed her bag and went to the door, her footsteps lighter than most people
Would he like to spend the day with me?
She immediately stopped, hand barely on the handle of the door
i truly do the complete opposite...
- - - - - - -
It seems that the Christmas spirit had managed to penetrate even in the headquarters of the FBI, for there were colourful foils and glittery texts in some of the offices. Even at the front lobby they decorated a sizable green Christmas tree.
Clarice's position of course was not in the front but at the back, her office was quite secluded from most of the others. She had come in terms with it, this was as far as she could get in the hierarchy of this institution and arranged her life according to that.
she got comfortable in her chair, legs loosely crossed and arms on the desk, while searching for today's reports.
What an excellent career upgrade, from special agent to a forgotten secretary...
she melancholicly thought with one hand propped on her face
She turned her view to the board opposite of her desk. On there she had pictures and clues about her ultimate case of Dr. Hannibal Lecter. Possible appearances at met Galas, receipts from the finest restaurants, reports from witnesses at high end clothe shops. Anything that would give away his whereabouts and possibly, if her instict in the end would be correct, where he's hiding.
Her gaze met with the little red dots of his eyes, almost pitch black from the quality of the photograph, with great interest -as if hoping he could take her away with one quick glance-.
Do I exist in your mind as you do in mine?
A turn of the hundle snapped her back in reality, tidying up whatever mess was going on.
Crawford's figure filled up the room with a different kind of anxiety than hers
"Good morning Starling" he weakly smiled, the tiredness in his face was prominent. He was holding something which clarice knew meant more work by her part
"Good morning, Sir. How can i help you?" She warmly tilted her head, eyes focused on him
He handed over three files that he was holding with his right hand
"These came in today. They are three cases of the same man we are looking for. All of his victims were found dropped near by rivers, stripped of their clothes and with their hair chopped off" He carefully explained while clarice was taking a look on the case files, her eyebrows furrowing
"Sir, with all due respect, my current position does not include this level of profiling. The nature of my position is of a more bureaucratic approach" she kept her composure still, this was her polite way of saying that ever since the buffalo bill case ended, they placed her behind some desk and forgot about her existence
"I know Starling but we're facing some issues with our resources at the moment" and this was Crawford's way of saying that more than half of the employees had taken paid leaves, so whoever was left behind they would have to work overtime
"Very well Sir. When are these due by?"
"The office wanted them ready on Christmas but I bought you some time and moved it on the 26th" He was aware of what he was asking for by Clarice, working on Christmas while she was one of the few employees who finished their tasks on time
Working on Christmas? Why did i hope for something different?
She forced her calmest and most focused look on him, pretending she wasn't seeing the unfairness taking place in front of her
"I will try my hardest for them to be ready on the 26th" she answered back with her usual professionalism
"Look Starling, i know how this looks like. Doing the work of the profiling department only because most of them are on their vacations and the few remaining ones are overworking themselves. Believe me when i say i didn't want you to spend Christmas like this"
Even though Crawford was telling the truth to Clarice, he hated being the messenger of bad news to the ones he held some sympathy, it didn't make a difference in Clarice's head
"It is fine, Sir. Most of these people have families back home. They need to spend the holidays with them" she organized the newer cases next to her typical work reports, having as little eye contact with him as visible
"Thank you for your understanding, Starling. I will try to get you a day off for the new year's eve. You deserve to have some fun as well for the holidays, be a little reckless even" He rubbed the back of his neck, he didn't know how to do this chit-chating with the younger agents
"I appreciate the thought, Sir" Clarice on the other hand could see how his wife's health had deteriorated by his physical appearance. He was slightly unshaved, dark circles under his eyes, and his suit was unironed.
If there was one person that should spend their holidays with their loved ones, she thought, it was him
"Have a good day, Starling" he nodded and with that he headed towards the door
"Is that all, Sir?" She curiously asked, while his hand was on the door handle "There's nothing else for you to tell me?"
He turned his head to her and forced a smile "Ah yes, Merry Christmas, Starling!" And with that, he exited the room
She was left speechless, staring the closed door
Merry Christmas my ass... you didn't even bother to wish me for my birthday
she loudly exhaled and casted her view to one of the many pictures of Hannibal. Surprisingly, his cold stare brought a disturbing serenity within her mind. Crawford had told her to never let him in her mind but, she found his presence within her to guide her better than anyone else
It seems we are going to work our asses off today, Dr. Lecter
She mused with the thought of using such vulgar language in front of him and returned back to her duty
- - - - - - - -
With one exhausted push, she closed the door of her apartment, and headed towards the kitchen to pour herself something to drink, whatever there was on the counter or wasnt expired.
Can't wait to get into bed already
she dropped her bag on the couch
Why did i expect anyone from the office to remember it? As if they bother to interact with me in the first place
she put her hair in a low bun, some pieces though left and right were free from the hair tie, and was already thinking about the whiskey they kept under the sink
At least i didn't spend the day like back at the orphanage, all praying and doing chores
She turned on the lights of the kitchen, even though she didn't need lights in order to find her favourite beverage or the whiskey glasses
With quick moves she poured herself a glass and thanked God they kept some ice cubes in the fridge.
She supported herself on the counter with one hand, and with the other she took sips of her drink. Even though her eyes were seemingly looking at the table, her mind was travelling at a different place, in situations and people she hadn't thought for a long time
Memories of the oranges of her father, peeling them with his pocket knife in the kitchen and giving her slices of it.
She could swear he would come out of the next room, with an orange ready for her
Those were one of the most cherished memories
The rest were causing an upheaval inside of her
She had spent most of her day amidst paperwork and doing the work for people that would not recognize her contribution. But at the very back of her buzzing inner world, there was a silent viewer, a person who was sitting on his elevated position and observed everything with great interest.
And she couldn't get her mind away from him, she didn't know how it was possible. Her feelings for him existed somewhere deep in the rooms of her own mind palace, as much as she denied it, but they never made themselves present at such degree in any other day
She concentrated on the reasons why she seemed so fixated with him today. What she managed to come up with was that, she wanted to capture him so the next birthdays of hers would have an essence of victory, a reason to celebrate the date.
Or perhaps, I hoped he would reach out for me
She sighed and went to sit on one of the table chairs, too much overthinking was making her legs feel weak
Moments later, she heard footsteps coming from Ardelia's bedroom. Clarice knew her shift was a short one today, so she had the time -and energy- to prepare for one of the many night outs with the other colleagues, this time to celebrate the holidays.
"Clarice! Happy birthday my girl!" Ardelia cheerfully exclaimed the moment she saw her resting on the chair
"Thanks a lot Delia" She knew she sounded a bit worn out but she welcomed her friend's hug with great pleasure
"Can't believe you are growing up so fast! Only you obviously, because I never age" She giggled with both her joke and with her friend's special day
She raised an eyebrow at her
"Oh come on, you know I meant it the good way" she waved it off with her hand "Say, I've been invited to a gathering with the rest of the office, or at least the ones who are still around. Are you up for joining us?" Ardelia knew her chances of convincing Clarice to come out were next to nothing but either way, she attempted it because she wanted her friend to smile with delight for once
"I would love to Delia but, I'm a wreck" she shrugged her shoulders as if trying to say it is what it is
She expected it, Clarice never wanted to celebrate her birthday for some reason, Ardelia thought it had to do with her missing her father. An attempt never harmed anyone, she thought
"You sure you don't want to come, Clarice?" Ardelia skeptically looked over the obviously exhausted Clarice, having practically collapsed on her chair
She opened the fridge and poured herself some water
"Yeah, told you they positioned me in that office position back at the headquarters. I've been sorting out one report after the other. All I want is to go to bed and sleep" With her head almost falling back, the corner of her eyes studied Ardelia's moves with great interest
She noticed the vividness coming off her friend, that smile dressing her entire face. She was wearing a ridiculously short red velvet skirt, a white velvet blouse with a sweetheart neckline, and red high heels with brown stockings.
"Still Clarice, it is your birthday! You turn-"
"Dont say it out loud!" She halted her talking
"And here I thought you had no problem telling your real age" she returned the bottle into the fridge, her amusement obvious by her tone of voice
"My age is not the problem. The problem is that with every birthday, I feel as if I've accomplished practically nothing" Usually she would not be so vocal with her inner thoughts around her roommate but as it seems, exhaustion was taking the best part of her
"Come on, you are doing yourself dirty! Who else could face off that fucking cannibal psyco? Or put up with krendler's bullcrap?" Ardelia used her most patronizing voice and attitude, placing her hand on clarice's shoulder
"Or let me borrow her t-shirts?" She gave her a quick hug from behind and a kiss on the cheek
"That's how we call "stealing" nowadays?" Clarice on the other hand, even though she was smiling, knew that half of her wardrobe was on the missing list because someone was taking advantage of her "kindness"
"I always return them when you ask me. Not my fault if you forget about them" she grinned with pride over her smart maneuver of the subject
"Still, I would suggest you come out of your shell from time to time. It's your birthday and Christmas in two days! Perfect excuse to buy stuff and get wasted! I bought myself a new camera, and for sure I will go get myself wasted" She left clarice to go find her jacket, otherwise she would be late
"I will keep it in mind" a bit of melancholy was visible in her voice, her eyes staring the ceiling, but it went unnoticed by Ardelia
The possibilities of opening up herself to people she had never met before was starting to fade away in her mind, she found it pointless when out there that worthy opponent existed -and she hoped that he would still be up for their old game-.
"Still, i will go out for now. My gift is on your bed next to some packages" she talked a bit louder so Clarice could hear
"Packages?" She turned her head towards Ardelia's direction
"Yeah, an envelope and a small package. They came this morning with the mail. It had no information about the sender, only that it is from Michigan. You have any relatives in there?" She sprayed herself some perfume and put on the jacket, going towards the exit door
"I have not kept contacts with any of them" and she indeed hadn't, which is why her tone was full of questions and her eyebrows furrowed in thinking, from whom it could be
Could it be?...
"Still, check it out. Perhaps one of them found out about you and want to contact you" she opened the door and gave one final wave to clarice before going out
"I will, don't worry" she said to herself, heading towards her room with determination to find out about this secret messenger
- - - - - -
Next to Ardelia's gifts, which Clarice could tell were t-shirts, there were two foreign items. A small package, no bigger than a
big book, and one envelope. Both of them seemed simple, no signs of its sender, only the town which it was sent from. Massachusetts, Michigan. And information about her like name and address.
She first grabbed the envelope, wanting to examine it. On the back there was something written.
"Open this first"
That handwriting
Her heart skipped a beat. She remained motionless for a moment. She couldn't believe that he would send her anything after his escape.
She was filled with indescribable joy, with the kind of gratitude an old time friend felt when they learnt news from a long lost companion
Her first thought was to call at the headquarters for DNA examination, to verify that it was him, or for any clues that would give away his current location.
But a second thought came in mind and made her bit her lips.
Would he be fool enough to reveal any clues about his whereabouts? She was sure that he would have left no tracks of his DNA as well.
Also, she was certain that no one would be willing to work on this two days before Christmas.
In the end, why try to give him in when all he did was to send her a present?
With a sigh, she casted those thoughts aside and carefully opened the envelope.
The paper was obviously of the best quality, not surprised in there, and the deep blue ink was nicely harmonized with the beige colour of the paper
She sat on the edge of the bed, legs tightly crossed, and focused on what the letter was saying
- - - -
Dear clarice
The morning sun has almost risen in my part of the world, its colour and appearance can touch even the most heartless men. In Washington DC it must be night by now, not that it would ever stop you from burning the candle at both ends.
Poor special FBI agent, it seems that not everyone around you shares your fervent adulation towards capturing the offenders of the law.
In the end, why should they? When they themselves are not the wiser?
I do wonder, has anyone recalled in their memory that today is your birthday? Did they even bother to force a façade of carrying about your person and wish you for your years spent on here? (With the exception of your dear roommate, Ms. Mapp)
The answer is obviously negative. Just like negative is your view on the subject, spending the day as if it was any other. Why is it always the ones who offer the most to others that deign to themselves so little?
That is why I took the liberty and sent you an indicator of my gratitude towards your spirit and mind.
I hope you are going to enjoy its artistic value as much as i did while creating it. A piece of my soul lies in there for you to hold dear.
Happy birthday again and Merry Christmas. May every wish you have wished upon a star to come true.
Ps. In the other envelope, I've provided you with an address in case your Christmas spirit strikes in and wishes to send me your kind of gratitude to me.
- - -
Her mouth fell agape while trying to process what was going on. Our of all the things she was expecting to read by him, this suspicious approach of kindness - by his standards - was the last one.
Not only he knew when her birthday was, which at second thought shouldn't surprise her in the least, but he went out of his way to send her a present
"Something that carries a piece of his soul" she thought out loud, covering her nose with the paper
Truth be told, she had never wondered if he had a soul -at least by the conventional standards-. She always imagined him as this unapproachable, calculated "creature", for the term monster never suited him in her eyes. He was an enigma she hoped she could crack, but as with every code, nothing went as smoothly as expected.
She casted her view on the ceiling once again. She hoped by doing that, a higher being would provide her with the answers she so desperately needed.
But alas, no response from any higher authority
Was this one of his old tricks?
She propped her head on her hands, he truly knew how to play this quid pro quo game pretty efficiently.
Even though he did not mention of the word, their old-fashioned game was always on. Especially in moments such as this.
"He said he gave a piece of his soul with this gift. What does he want in return from me?" She monologued sotto voce, her exhaling was a sign of her confusion
Still, she found the courage to take the small package into her hands and open it with the upmost attention.
What she came face to face with left her with a sudden admiration.
It was a carefully structured sketch of herself, he had managed to capture her face as if it was a photograph, with the rest of her body being naked.
Her breasts were bear, although a little bit different than her real ones, and some brown rags were covering her most intimate parts.
Fallen roses were on her feet and on the floor, while bindweed flowers were in her hair.
Far in the crimsoning cast she threw wide the shining golden doors of her rosefilled chambers.
It was placed inside a golden frame, for her perhaps to hang it in her room? She highly doubted
When she lifted the frame, under it there were one envelope and one small piece of paper.
The paper was giving her instructions about how to respond back to him, the steps she should follow in order to hide themselves from the very own institution she was working for.
She casted the frame and the paper aside, and she impatiently opened the other envelope
- - - -
Dear Clarice
If I had to describe your essence in a sentence, I would carefully consider the choice of "kindness can be alluring but also deadly".
Which is why I chose to base my portrait of you from "the gates of dawn" by Herbert James Draper. (What a wonderful painting, I witnessed its magnificence a couple of months ago in London).
The woman pictured there, Aurora, was the goddess of dawn. A thoughtful beauty, combined with self destructive tendencies. Simultaneously solicit and repel, desire and despise. Hunting for her next male victim, always voracious, never satisfied.
But the meaning of the painting could also be interpreted as hope for the next day. Indeed, she could be looking for her next victim but she could also be looking for the start a new, purified by the mistakes of yesterday, day.
That is how I view you Clarice, alluring and self destructive, erotic and ruthless.
Living in a painful reality that others have chosen for you, never giving you enough to stand on your own, never too little so dawn will fall upon you.
Inexhaustible passion and obsessive desires, your inner core wishes to prevail among them all, and I will provide anything under the sun to be a witness of this victory.
Indeed, what a disgrace to the world it is that you are not understood by the Philistines. How wicked it is the idea that any common man with no proper understanding of your inner mind would dare to think of touching you, of capturing you, let alone view you at your most intimate moments.
May this be the wake up call of the long slept goddess.
Ps. I hope this conversation of ours will work as an incentive for your inner beauty to come out, and perhaps deign me to be a witness of such event.
- - - - -
If she was left speechless before, now she was left thoughtless as well.
She lifted her head once at the sketch, and once at the last letter.
She got up and started walking around the house, hoping it would help with her buzzing head.
She knew he would never lie to her -challenge her and try to test her intelligence yes- the thought of him being dishonest with his feelings, if he had any, was not the case.
This sketch felt different, there were no screaming lambs or saint figures. It was only her and his admiration towards her person. A goddess, a person who had more depth than what most people saw at first.
And his words, she could sense he was not attempting to hide away what he was thinking. It was obvious by their last phonecall that he was interested in her but, in this way?
It sounded sick, twisted, immoral.
Something that would perfectly describe him.
What her next move was supposed to be, she didn't have any answer.
She did not know which direction her thoughts should follow. She was left with two letters expressing admiration and respect - in his own peculiar way - and a sketch that she could not show to anyone, both of them knew it.
Show him her inner beauty... let him indulge in the sight of her inner world. What was she supposed to write back? Which clever maneuver should she use in order to answer back to his meticulously written letters?
What did she have to answer back? To deny his accusations or how he perceives her? That would be like lying to him, and she was acutely aware of how much he detested dishonesty.
Suddenly, like a lightning bolt amidst the black sky, a preposterous thought came in her mind. It was something that went against logic and morals, the very opposite of what would be considered a wise decision.
An action done not only by her mind, but also from that place which seemed he had taken an interested in his person.
Something told her that this would be the answer to her questions. Either it could be the most reckless thing she had ever done, or the bravest.
"Ardelia said she got a new camera, huh?" She smirked while her mind was preparing her plan
- - - -
One of the many reasons Doctor Lecter was so much fond of South European countries, was because of the slow way of living. Everything was about cherishing the simple things in life. Some good food, a good-hearted friend, and a lovely female companion was all that mattered there.
Even the mundane things in life carried a certain amount of leisure energy which he found charming. One of them was waking up as early as possible, so he could enjoy the rising sun, alongside with it the people who slowly began their everyday routines.
Another reason for this sleeping schedule of his was that he could receive his letters from the mailman as soon as possible.
And this day his habits had paid him the most. He heard from his kitchen the leisure steps of the mailman, leaving what he had to leave and then continuing to the next person.
With the silent steps of a feline, he headed towards his door, to see if his opponent had decided to accept his challenge.
His head mused one thousand different scenarios when he saw his most desired envelope sent by her, he could sense it -and smell it-.
He decided he should open it in his study room, her words were too precious to be taken lightly, read by the door like an undesired guest who you can not wait until they step outside and close the door once and for all.
He sat on his chair and with a growing impatience, he opened the envelope.
Inside of it there was not any letter.
Only a picture
His breath stopped for a moment and his pupils dilated in delight. His mouth slightly cracked a smile in response to this lovely surprise.
It was his special agent Clarice Starling, dressed with only a white sheet. The sheet was covering her most intimate parts and her legs. Her hands were provocatively placed on her breasts, two fingers leisurely covering her nipples, barely if someone asked him.
Her head was turned on the left, her facial expressions were somewhere between oblivion and ecstasy. He could recognize those two blue eyes anywhere, the same passion still were in them.
She wore a golden cross too, it landed between her breasts, almost mockingly trying to swift the focus of his attention from her semi nude state.
He close his eyes and let himself drown in the aromas of her, her skin, her perfume, her hand cream. All of these were in the picture, he knew she knew it. She wanted to provoke him, to make him feel what it is like to take up a challenge by her.
To think that his little agent would be bold enough to answer him with the bravery of a free mind and heart, excited him like no other.
Behind the picture, she had written a short text with red ink
- - - - - -
Dear Dr. Lecter
Your gift moved my heart, and your skills were immaculate as always.
But you missed a few spots.
May this picture work as a reference for any future projects of yours.