Hello there readers!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own anyone or anything from the making of this, nor do I make any profit from it.

I bet no one was expecting to see this pairing EVER but I am going to be the first (Possibly) to write about Jame Gumb and Clarice and how I think they would have interacted with each other if they had the chance to in the movie. No one will be out of character, on purpose, and I am great at keeping the characters totally in character so there won't be much of a problem there, but the issue I can see happening with this pairing is that they didn't interact much at all in the movie and with Clarice's strong inner and outer femininity she won't be that easy to 'pin' down but with Jame Gumb's mental instability and creepiness I can totally see Clarice getting knocked down a couple good notches. Sooo hopefully my rambling won't scare you off and I really HOPE this pairing makes a decent debut ;)

PS: I am totally in love with Clarice and Doctor Hannibal Lecter as a definite couple but I have read soooo many stories featuring them as the couple and that's the only man I read her with. I have been very curious to see how she would turn out with the insane and awkward Jame Gumb :) This isn't going to be a very long story, just a few chapters or so. Well then, now that that is all said and done, please read and I hope you enjoy!

PSS: This isn't my first SOTL fanfiction story but I haven't created one in over maybe 5 or 7 years so please, if you are going to judge, don't be so harsh. Thank you!

...

She swallows carefully and steps over the scuffed threshold of the doorway, after being invited into the house formerly owned by the late Mrs. Lippmann. The two strangers share a few little words and Mr. Gordon closes the door behind her. All she can hear is the rusted hinges of the said door as it's closed shut. She takes a look over to her right and notices the lovely well kept wooden staircase and returns her attention back onto Mr. Gordon who is currently searching through a pile of miscellaneous papers.

While he's rummaging, he brings up Starling's current case; he asks if they have captured anyone yet. His question raises sudden suspicion in the young FBI in training but she doesn't think that long and hard about it. Clarice gives Mr. Gordon a simple answer in return and she continues to look around her new surroundings, asking him a couple questions herself.

The home has a very beautiful interior as well as exterior but the clutter all over the floor leading up to where Mr. Gordon is standing makes her wonder a bit more about this 'Jack Gordon'. The man is fairly quick to answer the agent and she listens carefully to what he has to say.

Clarice swallows the returned bundle of nerves at the back of her throat a second time and continues to make her way slowly toward Mr. Gordon, watching him pick through random cards he still has in his hands. They continue to get information from each other and while doing so, Clarice catches a glimpse from the corner of her eye of a moth. She licks her chapped lips once and keeps her eyes on the insect long enough to watch it land. Watching the insect, Clarice is quick to realize that the moth is not just any kind of moth, it's a Death's head Hawk moth. Jack Gordon is not who he has made himself out to be at all. She unlocks her weapon at her hip and stares at the man.

The man's voice breaks the silence and he hands out the card hoping she'd take it. Clarice knows all too well who he is now.

"Very good Mr. Gordon, may I use your phone please?" she asks, cocking her head very slightly to the left, licking her lips once again, making sure to keep good eye contact. Jack Gordon's anxiety is more than obvious to Clarice now and she can't believe she has been in front of him this whole time. She's intelligent enough to put together the clues but why now, now that she could possibly take a surprise bullet to the knee?

Anger and nerves begin to boil up quickly in the pit of her stomach as she watches the man let out a nervous chuckle at her question. "Yep, hm, you can use my phone," just the man's reaction alone to her question got her to piece it all together. Her palms are already hot with sweat and she pulls out her pistol and aims it at the unarmed man.

"Freeze!" the young FBI in training demands, not aware of how shaky her hands had become. Jack raises his hands nonchalantly with an amused smile on his lips. The cards fall freely from between his fingers and he turns as he's told but before Clarice could catch his next move, Jack makes a run for it around the corner in the kitchen. Her heart is in a crazy race with her mind at the moment and the only thing she can do is follows in the man's footsteps. She has to try to take this man down on her own. There is no time now to call for back up.

..

After finding Catherine deep in Buffalo Bill's makeshift well, she does her best to reassure the young girl, keeping her weapon very secure in her sweaty grip. Clarice has no idea what she is in for but she has to save this girl and make sure Bill doesn't get the chance to kill again. The young FBI agent can feel the start of a headache building up slowly in the back of her skull and she can feel the tickling sensation of sweat beads roll down the side of her face. It's hot down here and her nerves aren't cooperating with her right now.

Catherine continues to cry and curse and the dog barks. She has to find this man.

Clarice's breathing has become suddenly loud and hard. She fears the worst when she looks at the dirty faces of the closed doors. Cob webs hang very low and on her way further into the basement, she jumps at the sudden contact of the sticky webs winding around her neck.

She can still hear the screams of Catherine and barks of the dog but they are faint now. The room she enters first must be where Buffalo Bill raises his moths; they are beautiful insects but not being born in the hands of a serial killer, although he's very good at keeping them alive and well. Clarice notices a lot of strange and unusual things on her journey but she doesn't linger around too long. The next room she walks into is one she will not soon forget. The smell is downright awful but the sight is much, much worse. Her heart picks up the pace quite quickly and she lowers her pistol and turns to leave the dingy bathroom, where she believes to be the place where Mrs. Lippmann had been placed after being murdered.

A few tears burn at the corners of her eyes but she doesn't let them get too heavy. She can't let him get away. A minute before she exits the bathroom, the lights go out and an unwanted shriek explodes from her mouth. Clarice can only think of the worst but she doesn't grow weak. She moves carefully through the darkness with a rational mind. She needs to keep a good head on her shoulders about this, she can't just go wild and shoot up the place, as much as she really wants to.

She can only feel her surroundings; warm brick wall and low hanging cob webs. Her hands are very sweaty and her breathing is very loud and harder than before. There isn't a part of her that wants to close her mouth just to hear the killer's soft breathing. If she tried, she would most likely not be able to win this fight.

The air grows hotter the further she moves into the basement. She can feel more sweat drip from her chin but she doesn't bother to mess with it; there is some kind of screeching coming from ahead of her and she jerks her head at the contact of something the size of a grown beetle smacking into the side of her face. Clarice thinks about the moths from earlier and continues to move against the wall. She had no clue that these bugs made any kind of noise

Her breathing is very loud at this point now. Who knows if the killer is in this very room with her or not and the thought of that terrifies the hell out of her. She squeezes the handle of her pistol with a shaking hand and stops moving for a second to collect her thoughts. Clarice doesn't stay motionless for long. She turns into another room and nearly trips over what feels like a cardboard box but she catches herself on the edge of a mattress and continues on. She can't feel him, she can't hear him breathe, she can't even feel his presence.

A warm sweat bead falls over her right eye and she uses the back of her hand to wipe it away from her eyebrow; the feeling of it tickled her; with her same old breathing, Clarice keeps her hand tight on the pistol and her legs begin to grow a little tired.

She trips again over something with more weight than a cardboard box and this time falls to the carpet covered ground; something had touched her; her pistol is now gone. Surprisingly the gun didn't go off but being unarmed and defenseless in the pitch darkness with a killer on the loose made her mind go different places. She thought about grabbing her walkie but thinking about it, she recalls how she left it in her car simply because she had no idea that the new owner to Mrs. Lippmann's house was going to be the notorious Buffalo Bill.

She does the only thing she can. "Please Mr. Gumb, I'm unarmed, we can talk about this, the whole thing," she says out loud, swallows and stands up slowly, leaning her back into a wall. Her breathing has become regular again but her fears continue to grow.

She doesn't get a response. The only kind of reaction Clarice gets is a palm running down the back of her hair very softly. The contact causes her to freeze almost immediately. He is here, behind her, brushing his filthy fingers through her hair. She has nothing to say;

Clarice can now hear his soft breathing and it causes her to shut her eyes and remain still. "You have very beautiful hair, of-officer," his deep, gravelly voice gives her awful chills. She can feel her skin become overpowered by goosebumps, even though there is a familiar sweat continuing to run down her, molding her clothes to her body. His voice sounds anxious like before and so does the way his hand moves down her hair.

Clarice swallows loud enough for Gumb to hear and she opens up her eyes. "Free Catherine Mr. Gumb, free her and-Clarice thinks about her choice of words before willingly giving them to him, licking her chapped lips,-and you can have me, please just let her go," the young FBI agent pleads silently, trying her best to keep her composure. The man's fingers stop combing through Clarice's hair and she's left with silence again.

..