Okay, First Fan Fiction in an extremely long time. I add the usual disclaimers: Don't burn me at the stake please, I'm not making money from this… it's only a hobby and I need to go to uni' so don't arrestor prosecute me either. Please, I beg you to review; it's what keeps me going. I don't care if it's good or bad (If it's bad, please be constructive.) Anyways, hope you like it… if you do I'll continue. ;)

The soft autumn breeze caressed her skin and hair as she ran through central park and as the sun lethargically made its way over the horizon Clarice Starling felt her skin warm, the soft rays gently hitting her body as she ran. She had always been an early riser ever since she joined the F.B.I. Once you lived that lifestyle it was hard to change back into a normal rhythm, that and the fact that she was once again plagued by dreams.

Her breathing was starting to become labored and she slowed down to a jog before stopping completely and sitting on a small bench overlooking a little pond. She loved New York, ever since the incident at the Chesapeake a year and a half ago, her life seemed to be grasping a sense of normality and things had taken a turn for the better. Yes, she wasn't with the F.B.I. anymore and yes, she had gone into a state of depression for several months after she lost her job but eventually Ardelia had snapped her out of her depressive coma, then after a few more months she had managed to get a job at NYPD. It paid better than the F.B.I and there seemed to be less back stabbing and office politics. That's how she liked it. These days she had her own team, her own office and even her own department. She took a deep breath before leaning back and closing her eyes, immersing herself with her surroundings and feeling a sense of peace finally.

The peace was eventually broken, this time by the annoying beeping of her mobile. She gave an annoyed sigh before flipping it open.


"Hey, Starling, I know it's early but we've got a case." The voice on the other end of the line had a slight German-English accent and forever held an edge of cynicism and coldness. "I'm at Holy Trinity Church in Manhattan, 209 West 82nd Street. We need you here stat."

"Alright, Gladwin, I'll be there in a bit."

"Okay, but don't take too long and if I were you bring some Vicks." Starling laughs slightly before saying, "I'll keep that in mind." She hangs up and looks at her watch. 5:35 am. She sighs and starts the jog back to her apartment to shower and change before getting to work.

Hollie Gladwin had been standing outside Holy Trinity Church for over fifteen minutes before Staling arrived in her old Mustang. Gladwin had flowing blonde hair that ended at her jawline and cold grey-blue eyes. Clad in cream chinos, a white tee shirt, an old extremely authentic looking black military shirt and black canvas shoes, Gladwin looked nonchalant standing outside a murder scene having a cigarette. She shifted slightly and her shirt moved, revealing a dual underarm holster with a Walther P38 and a Steyr M1912. She never liked to be kept waiting but lived with it because there was nothing else she could do. Gladwin straightened up from leaning against the fresco of the church and walked towards Starling with the grace of a dancer.

"Hope you brought the Vicks, Starling, 'cause you're not going to like it in there." Starling tilted her head to the side in an all too Lecter-like fashion, silently questioning and trying to deduce the problem. Gladwin saw this and put out her cigarette before turning and walking with Starling into the church.

"The vicar found him this morning and called it in. If you want to talk to him he's out back…" She stopped as they started to enter the church and went over to the small metal basin filled with holy water, dipping her fingers in and crossing herself before entering the church.

"I never thought you were religious, Gladwin." Hollie smiled slightly before retorting with, "I'm not but I try to respect religion." They continued to walk down the aisle with Hollie continuing her brief on the crime scene. They came upon the alter and looking up Starling's breath caught as she spotted the hanging body of Bishop Briago, blood staining the purple silk of his robes even darker as the early morning light hits the body. His face was half decomposed and one could see his teeth on the right side of his face where the muscle had been eaten away at, his eyes bulged slightly from their sockets and blood slowly dripped down from them like tears and landed into the hands of the statue of Christ that stood beneath the hanging body.

"Jesus Christ" A small group of gossiping choir boys, a vicar and the organ player that had gathered on the far right of the room all stared in anger at Starling's blaspheming ways and had started mumbling about it amongst themselves. The odd muttering of sinner! And several other things could be heard from the group. The two detectives ignored it and looked at the body.

"He's probably been dead for about four days prior to being hung and the lack of a right cheek is most likely from an animal and nothing more, Starling." Hollie put a great emphasis on the last two words and hoped Clarice would get her meaning. She nodded and looked around the church.

"Where's the rest of the team?" Starling sounded slightly irritated because she had been called here urgently but the rest of the team wasn't even here yet but then she felt a slight pang of guilt for she never knew how long Gladwin had been here for.

"Well I did page them and phone them, so they should be here but…." Gladwin was interrupted by a light cough and three rowdy, rushed; rudely woken-up people stumbled into the room and both Hollie and Starling turned to face them, the heels of Hollie's shoes clicked together, Starling always found that to be a strange habit that Hollie could never stop. Clarice shook her head and sighed.

The one furthest to the left was Paul Sharpe, IT Tech, Forensic Investigator, scientist and gamer extraordinaire. Dressed clad in a grey XBOX tee with a dark blue shirt, unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up, some black chinos and those good shoes someone on the team brought him last Christmas. He was always fun to be around and never really had any problems with life. He was one of those people who took life as it come. He looked so innocent and had the face of a young boy; he looked like he didn't belong at a crime scene.

The person next to him was his good, long-time friend: James Newman. He was the more poetic of the team with a degree in Literature and Creative Writing, he was forever writing the cases they solved in his little red Moleskine notebook. James was the best forensic photographer and media expert one could hope for and best of all he had the patience of a saint, which is what you really need when working with Hollie Gladwin. He wore the usual Superdry Tee shirt, light blue skinny jeans and some white plimsolls.

The last person standing under Clarice's gaze was Potter, Maria Potter. An extremely hard working, caring but decisive person, Maria always got the job done and never let anything get in the way, well almost never. She hated the fact that Hollie would always carry those guns and thought it was completely unnecessary, what annoyed her most about it was when asked about them Hollie would never say anything or just give some inconceivable answer. Maria wore dark skinny jeans, a white Mickey Mouse tee, and her Muppets shoulder bag. She was the forensic analyst in the team and did a damn good job of it. As for Starling she was dressed casually in in stonewashed jeans, a black tee shirt and denim jacket. Her .45 strapped defensively to her side. She claps her hands together and says, "Alright, Y'all, we better get to work." Her West Virginian accent slipping out ever so slightly and she turns her back to the team. "Hollie?"


"Can you do something 'bout that body?" Hollie sighs and shoves her hands in her pockets.

"Nope, not until the coroner gets here anyways, it's against procedure for me to even touch the body before they're here."

Starling sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Did you phone them?" Gladwin almost looked hurt by the accusation in her voice.

"Of course I did, but apparently they don't start work 'til 8:30. So we're gonna have to work with a dead body hanging from the ceiling." Gladwin then mumbled something under her breath before working, Starling could have sworn it was something like, Just like old times except this time it's not me doing the hanging. But shook it off as her imagination and got to work. Still trying to ignore the stench of rotting flesh and the dead body hanging above her and she inwardly sighed. Just then her phone started to vibrate in her jean pockets.


"Hello, Clarice."

I want to thank Major and Taylor for their reviews and help with this. Okay, erm… that's it for now. If you review or P.M. me I'll write more I know it's a crap ending but wait 'n' see, Eh? Please make my day and press the magic review button, please…